"and I won't die alone"

~/~/~/~/~

By the time the third gunshot faded away into gaping silence, Candy instinctively knew he was too late to help the one in trouble. It was his gut instinct that had saved him the most over the years and it was what he trusted in the most in these unknown situations. His gut screamed that what waited in the glade he galloped towards was tragedy.

He was too late.

Smoke was drifting lazily among the grove of trees he rode through, the smell of spent gunpowder heavy, and it wasn't long before the aging foreman of the Ponderosa stumbled across his first carcass. A rough, grizzled man dressed in tattered clothes lay dead in a puddle of his own life's blood, the dry summer ground soaking it up like a sponge. His horse lay stiffening some ten yards away, one leg broken and its brains splattered everywhere. His heart beating a tattoo in his throat, Candy carefully dismounted and drew out his rifle from its holster, warily watching for any signs of movement. This was quiet country—in all of his years here he had rarely seen others on the nearest road.

He found the second and third bodies beneath an outcropping of boulders, one with his eye shot out and the other clutching his spilling entrails even in death. Convicts, Candy mused, his careful eye making sense of the shabbiness of the men's clothes and untrimmed beards. Their guns lay in the dirt beside them.

Something in his gut was still screaming that something wasn't right. Who had these men been shooting at? Then a horse's forlorn nicker caught his ear, and looking up Candy's mouth fell open in silent dismay.

"Oh, Lord," he breathed.

Looking back at him with white-rimmed eyes and laid-back ears, Cochise stood twenty yards away; beneath his hooves Candy spied a familiar dusty green jacket and a tousled head of grey curls.

"Joe!"

For once Candy prayed that his instinct would be wrong and he wouldn't have to face a tragedy he wasn't sure he could actually handle, but he had never been wrong before. As he sprinted to his friend's side, he was horrified to find he wasn't now, either.

He wasn't dead yet but he soon would be—the colorless pallor of his skin was the clearest indication. Joe's ripped and splattered clothes were soaked with scarlet blood from three separate bullet holes to his chest and stomach. Cochise had realized how badly hurt his master was and was protectively standing over him, but the horse moved when Candy pulled him away. The sound of his name roused Joe, his head turning weakly to look up. Dull green eyes, glazed with exhaustion and agony, cleared briefly with recognition. He coughed as he tried to breathe in. "Candy," he choked out, wincing as he felt something tear deep inside him. Relief seeing the foreman softened some of the pain.

Swallowing down panic, Candy kneeled beside the dying man, reaching out a hand to wipe away the blood that ran down Joe's chin. "God," he groaned. "What the hell happened?" It was meant as a rhetorical question but he still had to stop Joe from answering.

"A-Ambush…"

"No, don't- don't talk, alright? Just lay still, we'll get you a doctor. You're gonna be okay."

But Joe shook his head, stalling anymore of Candy's fervent words. "Don't lie," he whispered. "It's mortal, isn't it?" It was difficult to speak, and with every syllable he could feel something tear inside him just a little more.

Candy had to swallow down a sudden wave of tears; he knew that breaking down now would alarm Joe more than it would alarm himself. He was tempted to downplay the injuries but he had never lied to any of the Cartwrights before, and Joe didn't deserve lies now. "It is," he confirmed in a voice that didn't sound like himself.

Joe's eyes fell closed hearing that, trying to swallow. He could taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth and coating his throat. It was hard to breathe and the pain of his body was steadily numbing, but he was still coherent enough to know he was dying. "H=Hope I can shower," he said shakily; "might be too dirty right now to be allowed in Heaven."

Candy smiled despite himself, marveling at how even at the end Joe could still find something to joke about. He couldn't assure Joe of survival, he knew, but he could at least promise one thing. "You won't be alone," he said aloud. "Not now."

But Joe had no fear for himself; he had long ago made his peace with God and was unafraid of death. His only concern now was for those left behind. With shocking strength he managed to grasp his friend's hand in both of his, leaving blood smeared on Candy's clothes. "Pa," he rasped out. "Tell him-… please. D-Don't let him mourn long. He'll be okay. Tell him."

Candy nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "Yeah, I'll tell him, Joe. I'll watch him and Jaime both. We'll be okay." Joe's grip was loosening on his arm, limp with relief and the knowledge that Candy would help him one last time.

"Thank you," he breathed, and even as he spoke he heard familiar footsteps approaching on his opposite side. Heavy footsteps holding a large weight. Cochise snorted uneasily but Candy didn't react at all, unable to hear or see the man approaching.

"Well, lookee here, little brother," Hoss's warm voice boomed out cheerfully, "even now yer aimin' ta lay 'round bein' lazy."

Joe smiled, not needing to open his eyes to know his beloved older brother, dead these past ten years, was beside him once again. "Hoss."

"C'mon, Little Joe. Everyone's waitin' ta see ya 'gain. Your ma, Alice, your daughter. You and me's gotta catch up on a whole lot together."

Candy saw the smile and he heard Joe utter his older brother's name, and he knew the end was close. He grasped his friend's hand in his own tighter—his skin was icy but Joe had long since stopped shivering. There was one last thing he could do for his old friend. "Go ahead, Joe," he whispered shakily. "Go on with Hoss. I'll help your pa and Jaime. Let go."

Joe opened his eyes briefly one last time. "Thank you," he said again. Candy's face was getting harder to focus on, but he caught sight of his older brother smiling that gap-toothed grin at him, his bright blue eyes sparkling. Yes—Candy would help Pa and Jaime and he didn't have to worry anymore.

He could let go.

"C'mon and help me up, Hoss."