Blackfell

By: Ruby

Vin could feel the rope biting into the tender flesh on his neck. His throat was on fire. His vision swam and bright spots flickered in front of his eyes. He could hear something, soft and faint. It sounded like a voice.

"vin..."

He was choking, gagging. His wrists turned in their tight bonds; sending blood cascading down his hands and dripping off his fingertips. His ears were ringing. The room swam in and out of focus; he squeezed his eyes shut. He heard the voice again, louder this time.

"Vin! GOD DAMMIT!!"

It was Chris Larabee's voice. A sob cracked the usually stern sounding voice and caught his attention.

What's happening?

Oh yeah, his knees. He was supposed to keep his knees locked. He pushed his knees back into place, straightening his legs out and pulling himself up to his full height. Sudden air filled his lungs, the force of it causing more bright spots to flash before his eyes.

A bout of dizziness made him nauseous and he swayed. The rope caught, tight around his throat once more, and he instantly righted himself. He sure didn't want to go through that again. He used every ounce of concentration he possessed to keep his knees locked and himself upright.

Finally he opened his eyes. Chris Larabee sat on his knees, his feet towards the wall. He was staring at him, his eyes full of naked horror. His mouth was still open from his last scream. Blood and tears mixed together and streaked down his face. His arms snaked around his back.

Vin suddenly remembered.

They'd tied the gunslinger's feet and hands together, too tight from the grimace on his face. That was after they'd beat both of them and tied the noose around his own neck.

A noose. There was a fuckin' noose around his neck.

That bastard, Joe Blackfell, had kidnapped him, shot Chris and now had them both in this cabin. He could still remember the man going on and on about Chris hanging his brother years ago and now he was gonna make Chris watch *his* little brother die.

He'd thought they were brothers. Him and Chris.

Two of Blackfell's men had beat Chris, paying *special* attention to the bullet wound in his left shoulder. They tied his hands behind his back, tied his hands to his feet then tied him to the wall.

Vin couldn't do anything to help Chris, his own hands were tied behind his back and Blackfell held a Colt tucked in between two of his ribs. When they started to bring that rope around his neck, he'd fought them the best he could. But they'd already beaten him good and he couldn't fight for long. He tried to quell the panic that enveloped him when he felt the rough hemp touch his throat. Chris was screaming obscenities at Blackfell. Vin figured he'd only have a few seconds before he hung. But he didn't hang. Blackfell tightened the rope so that it had about a half inch of slack while he was standing and backed away from him, an evil glint in his eye.

Vin knew what was going on. He'd lived with the Indians. He knew a lot of different ways to kill a man. A lot of ways to kill their spirit first.

It was going to be hard to stand up straight for long. Either exhaustion would take him or the lack of food. One way or another he was going to drop and when he did...he would hang. Vin knew that he could last quite a while. He was strong. He'd have a lot of time to think about it before it happened.

Blackfell and his two men backed to the door. Vin cursed and spat, screaming at the older man. But, Blackfell just smiled congenially and turned towards Chris. "Have a lovely couple of days Larabee. Hell, I figure you'll last that long. We bandaged up that wound pretty good. But," he glanced towards Vin then back to Chris, "I just don't think your young brother here is gonna last that long. I doubt any of those men you ride with are gonna find you way out here. Not in time, any way. Not before you have to watch your brother hang to death. Just like I had to watch mine." The three men turned and walked out of the door.

Suddenly Blackfell stopped and cocked his head to the side, like he'd forgotten something. With vicious calm he turned, pulled out his pistol, pointed it towards Vin's leg and fired.

Vin's world erupted in white hot fire as the bullet hit his thigh. His body was knocked backwards, he lost his balance and fell. The rope caught and he started to strangle.

Vin shook his head and glanced down at his leg. Blood was streaming down his tan pants. All he could do was try to stand still and hope that someone came for them. He didn't know how long he'd stood there in the middle of the room, before blood loss and exhaustion took their toll. He felt himself slump towards the ground, but just didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He was lucky Chris's voice finally pulled him from his death. He was still swaying. He looked over and saw Chris watching him, terror and relief vying for control over his features.

*****

Chris watched as Vin's body slowly lost its long battle. It had been hours since Blackfell had shot Vin and left them in the cabin to die. Chris had done everything he could think of, from talking to Vin about his past to berating him for not being strong enough to keep on his feet. So far it had worked. Vin had kept his knees locked and himself upright and had avoided hanging. But now, now it looked like it was too late. Vin's eyes fluttered closed. Hid body swayed, righted itself then dropped. Vin instantly started gagging. Chris screamed, fought at his bonds and screamed some more. His best friend was strangling to death, right before his eyes.

Chris fought with everything he had, but couldn't break free of his bonds. He could feel the tears, wet on his face. Suddenly something he'd said must have broken through. Vin's legs straightened, his knees locked again and he stopped hanging from the end of the rope.

Chris's heart stopped for a second. Vin was breathing. He whispered encouragement to his best friend and watched as his blue eyes fluttered open.

"-r-ss?"

"Vin. You're ok, just keep them legs straight and it won't happen again."

"Ti-," he swallowed and wet his lips, "tired."

"I know, cowboy, but you have to stay awake. Ok? You have to stay standing."

Vin stood still for a long time. He didn't make a sound except for the ragged breaths he gasped in. Finally he seemed to regain his composure. He looked up and Chris knew his friend was going to stay with him a while when his blue eyes took on a mischievous glint. Vin looked around, looked back at him and in a feathery light, raspy voice asked, "We in Tas-cosa?"

Chris laughed. He couldn't help it. Leave it to Vin to get a morbid laugh out of all of this. Vin chuckled and moved his good leg a bit. Chris figured that he had to hurt like hell and needed to find a more comfortable position. "Well, pard. Let's hope that one of the boys misses us and comes lookin'."

"Hell, what's the chances of that?"

Chris's eyes twinkled, "Where's Ez when you need him?"

Vin laughed then screwed his face up to imitate the southerners. "Mr. Larabee, I seem to be in a pre-dikerment here. Would you be so kind as to-," Vin started laughing and Chris joined him. Finally Vin looked down at his leg, then back up to Chris.

"It's bleedin' pretty good, pard."

Chris watched as the wound, that had stopped bleeding while Vin was staying still, started sending rivulets of crimson flowing down the tracker's leg again.

"I know." Chris locked eyes with his best friend. Vin knew that he wasn't gonna make it. Chris knew too.

"If someone doesn't find us soon..." Vin's voice trailed off.

"I know." Chris glanced at the door, willing one of the other men to show up. "I bet they're on their way right now."

Vin grinned at him. "That's good to know. Wish they would hurry up."