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Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Notes: Ok, I just got a chance to send this and I haven't
read any mail yet, I just feel I'm missing something. Anyway this was extremely
fun and I hope everyone likes it. I had to get a tad smarmy, but I'll get
over it.
feedback welcome! PenKatt@aol.com
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Chris felt an icy rage wash over him, as he listened silently to Mary Travis telling him what had happened.
He waited until she was finished, and asked simply. "Nathan's?"
Mary nodded, and Chris strode angrily out of the saloon.
The four grim faced men waiting below Nathan's clinic, stepped aside
to let their leader pass. The expression on his face, warned them
all not to get in his way.
As Chris made his way inside the clinic, Nathan took one look at his angry face and held up a warning hand. He jerked his head, indicating outside.
"How bad is it? Chris demanded, once they were on the landing of the clinic's stairs.
"It ain't good. They hurt him Chris. They hurt him real bad. Fact is, he's gonna hurt a lot more 'fore it's over. What he needs most, is peace and quiet and rest. He just ain't up to handlin' none of your moods right now." Nathan told the gunslinger sternly.
Chris started to say something in reply, but Nathan cut him off harshly. "I mean it Chris. You say one word in there, that ain't fit for Sunday mornin' meetin', and I'll put you out."
Chris' angry eyes met Nathan's fiercely protective eyes, and any thought he'd given to arguing ended. He nodded meekly, and followed the healer back into the clinic.
The four men waiting at the foot of the stairs, exchanged impressed glances. Very few people stood up to Chris Larabee, and even fewer had cowed the gunslinger so completely.
*******
Chris saw his oldest friend laying on his stomach, his face turned toward the door and blood seeping through the bandage covering his temple.
"Broke his leg in three places too," Nathan said quietly.
"How…?" Chris tried to finish the question, but choked on his words.
"Nearest I can figure they dragged behind a horse. From the looks of that leg and the cuts and bruises all over…" Nathan's voice trailed, but Chris picked up a trace of fury.
Chris sat down easily on the cot, careful not to wake Buck. The gunslinger carefully put a hand on his friend's battered back, careful to avoid the scrapes and yellowish/purple contusions that seemed to be everywhere. He looked helplessly at Nathan, his eyes asking the question his voice could not.
"I don't know, Chris. He ain't woke up yet and it's been two hours since Vin and Ezra found him. No tellin' how long he was left out there."
"How's J.D. takin' it?" Chris asked, his gaze returning to Buck's still form.
"How do you think? I ain't gotten up the nerve to let him come in yet. Figured that'd be something you could help him through."
Chris said nothing, just hung his head and got up off the bed and went back outside.
"Chris…" Nathan called, following him onto the landing, but stopped his sentence short because of the other four standing by the door, waiting.
Chris saw the anxious faces looking to him, all worried, all wanting an explanation, but his eyes fell on J.D.
The youth stepped in front of his idol and Chris wondered what he could say to wipe the stricken look off the kid's face. But he didn't have time to think about it, because J.D. drew back and punched the larger man square in the nose.
Chris staggered backwards, stunned and bleeding. Josiah quickly grabbed the kid's arms and pulled him aside, preventing him from hitting Chris again, but most likely to keep Chris from killing him.
"There were eight of 'em, Chris!" J.D. yelled, struggling hard against the preacher's grip. "You sent him into a blasted ambush!" The kid tried to hold it together, but he couldn't stop his voice from cracking.
"Quit it," Nathan interjected, staring at J.D. "You ain't gonna do Buck any good fightin' each other!"
"I didn't know, J.D.," Chris said sincerely, wiping his bloody nose. "I'm sorry, kid."
Josiah cautiously released J.D. and the boy stepped forward, staring a hole through Chris. Chris noticed he was shaking, whether from anger or fear he couldn't tell, but he understood the pain reflected in those big, soulful eyes. The weary gunslinger put his hand on the kid's neck and pulled him to his chest and held on to him for dear life.
"God knows I never meant for anything to happen to him," Chris whispered. "But what matters is that you know."
The mask of defiance and bravery J.D. had tried so valiantly to keep in place, slipped and he began to cry.
"I shoulda went with him," he sobbed. "He wanted me to ride out there with him, but I told him I had better things to do!"
"Not your fault," Chris said quietly. "I know Buck's glad you didn't go, J.D.," he said, holding the boy's head in his hands and forcing him to look at him. Chris glanced at the other men around him. "We all are."
Chris held on to him a moment longer, giving the kid time to compose himself before facing his friends. "Come on, let's go see Buck."
J.D. nodded and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Chris."
"It's ok, J.D. Just don't ever try that again," he added with enough venom in his voice to make his point, before placing a supportive hand on the kid's back and leading him to their mutual bestfriend's bedside.
J.D. blanched at the sight on the bed and it took all the courage he could muster to keep from turning around and running back out. Instead he knelt on one knee and brushed Buck's hair back out of his face.
"Oh, God, Chris," he gasped as he saw the blood soaked bandage underneath. J.D. quickly tried to pull himself together, 'hell, Buck had never abandoned him and he'd be damned if he let him down either.'
"It's not as bad as it looks, kid," a tired, raspy voice spoke, causing J.D. to jump.
"Buck!" J.D. exclaimed, a little louder than Buck was ready for.
"Geez, boy," Buck said as J.D. grabbed his hand. "Try not to finish me off, will ya?"
"You look terrible," he teased.
"Ok, I guess I'm not up to my usual standards," Buck said, stopping to catch his breath. "But I can still put you in your place, boy."
"Good to see you're still full of crap, Buck," Chris spoke up, a small smile spreading across his lips.
"Can't even beat it out of me," he groaned and closed his eyes.
J.D. looked up at Chris, both sets of eyes still moist and threatening to overflow, but with hope this time. J.D. pulled a chair next to Buck's cot and plopped himself down, ready to stay for as long as it took. It was the least he could do.
^..^
