A/N: This was originally posted in two parts because I was having so much trouble with it. Back then, stories were posted in their entirety and coded by the list owner. I was struggling with the story and posted the first part to force me to finish. As it happens, by the time the first part posted the second part was about done. I left it that way for Auld Lange Syne, and because I don't think the subtitles ever got posted quite the way I envisioned.

You're in luck, drmweaver - Adam will eventually get rest, but he'll be suffering for some time to come!

The Rubicon

Part II: The Crossing

By Lissa B.

January 2000

Paul Martin finished his examination and straightened, trying to relieve the crick in his back. He fished through his bag and pulled out two bottles before turning to face the young man standing sentinel in the doorway.

"It's not good news, is it?" Adam asked abruptly.

Paul chose his words carefully. "It's not bad news. It's worse, certainly, but that is how the disease runs its course. When did the cough start?"

"This morning. Though I thought his breathing sounded labored last night."

"That's from the membrane over the throat. It will go away eventually, as long as the toxins don't build up in his system. That's what causes the membrane to thicken and – "

Adam shifted. "And?"

"In some cases it can suffocate the patient." He saw Adam's face and continued firmly, "It's usually brought about by poor care or late diagnosis. That's not the case here, Adam."

Adam gestured to the two bottles. "And that will take care of it?"

"It will help, yes." Paul reached over and felt under Adam's chin.

Adam squirmed away. "I'm fine."

Undaunted, Paul felt his forehead. "You don't look fine."

Adam gave him a ghost of a smile. "Well, you don't look so good yourself."

Paul laughed. "I'm sure."

"How are things in town?"

Paul hesitated. "I need to talk to you about that. Any other signs of illness among the men?"

Adam shook his head. "No. We scrubbed down the bunkhouse and I checked everybody's throats."

The mental image made Paul smile, but he hid it from Adam. "Well, Smokey is doing well – looks like a light case so far. Deever's a little worse off, but I don't see why he shouldn't recover with proper care. Why don't we have some of Hop Sing's coffee and I'll explain to you how to use what's in these bottles."

Adam flushed. "Sorry. My manners are off today. Breakfast should be ready – why don't you eat with us?" He let Paul proceed him down the stairs and frowned at the sight of the empty dining room chairs. "Joe must still be asleep. Why don't you sit down? I'd better wake him up or he'll be late for school."

"Adam – " Paul reached out a hand to stop him. Well, there would be no easing into this. "Joe won't be going to school today."

"Not going to school. Is he - ?"

"No, no – " Paul interjected hastily, cursing himself for handling this badly. He must be tired – his bedside manner was in rags. "I haven't even seen Joe today. The fact is, we've closed the school and are using the building as another hospital. As of last night, nearly twenty percent of the population is down with diphtheria. Virginia City and the environs are officially under quarantine."

"Twenty percent," Adam repeated slowly, trying to imagine what that meant in terms of friends and neighbors.

"That's right. I would like everyone who can to stay out of town for the time being. How are you fixed for supplies?"

"Fine." Adam was still reeling a little. "We're fine. I'm just not sure how to keep Joe occupied – thank God Hoss will be back tonight."

Paul peered at him with some concern. "Adam. Hoss will not be back tonight."

Adam looked at him with quick alarm. "He – ? Is he all right? What did you hear from Carson City?"

"Adam." Paul gave his arm a gentle shake. "Hoss is fine. We're under quarantine, remember? That doesn't just mean nobody goes out – it means nobody comes in, either."

Adam stared at him for so long that Paul became alarmed and gave him another shake. "Adam?"

Adam blinked. "I didn't think - " he laughed mirthlessly. "I can't believe I didn't think of that."

"Well, you've got a lot on your mind." Adam nodded wordlessly. "Have you thought of sending Joe to the Devlins until the worst is over?"

Adam glanced at him, then shook his head. "He'd never forgive me."

"Could be in his best interests, though. As long as they stay clear of illness. So far, so good."

Adam looked torn.

Paul patted his arm. "Well, you think about it. I'll let you know if all is still well there when I check back."

"Thanks - Hoss'll be worried when he hears about the quarantine. If I write out a telegram could you drop it off when you get to town?"

"Certainly. Why don't we have some breakfast and let Joe sleep a little longer."

Hop Sing was placing platters of eggs and ham and potatoes on the table as they sat down. Paul thought he looked about as dragged out as Adam did - or, as Adam had pointed out - he did himself.

Adam glanced up at the cook. "Maybe you'd better have a seat, Hop Sing. Dr. Martin's going to tell us how to administer the medicine he brought."

Hop Sing put down the coffeepot but declined to sit.

Paul talked them through the correct dosages for the medicine that would be placed in boiling water to help with the cough and breathing, then the one that would be taken internally.

Hop Sing took the bottles. "Hop Sing give now?"

"Good idea, Hop Sing, once you've prepared the kettles."

"Here, I'll give you a hand." Adam started to rise.

Hop Sing protested in Cantonese. "You eat. Breakfast get cold. Where Little Joe?"

"Asleep. He can't go to school today - we're in quarantine. I don't know how we're going to keep him busy - think he could help you a little?"

Hop Sing nodded. "Little Joe be big help to Hop Sing."

Adam knew it was a dead-on lie and that Hop Sing was just trying to alleviate his worries, but he accepted gratefully.

Paul watched Adam push eggs around his plate until he finally said gently, "You know, you really need to eat those and stay well. Your family is counting on you."

Adam nodded, glancing toward the stairs. "When will we know something one way or the other?"

"Disease runs its course in a week or so, generally followed by some recuperative time."

"Have you had any - " there was no other way to say it. "fatalities?"

Paul was silent.

Adam swallowed slowly. "I see," he said heavily. "Can you tell me how many?"

Paul added cream to his coffee, stalling for time. Finally he said, "Adam, I know you like the facts, but in this case you'll only use them to torture yourself. Why don't you just deal with the cases under your care right now?"

Adam smiled his half smile. "Doc, that's just the kind of talk that makes my imagination run away with itself. So why don't you just tell me?"

Paul sipped at his coffee. "Seven so far. Including the drifter."

Adam paled a little, glancing again toward the stairs. "So fast."

"It's like that. Which is why I think you should really consider sending Joe away. For his protection and your peace of mind. You have enough here to contend with."

"I won't go!"

They both jumped at the sound of the shrill voice suddenly at the top of the stairs.

Adam threw down his napkin and stood up. "Joe - "

"I won't!" Joe thundered down the stairs as Adam strode toward him, shoving his older brother with all his slight weight. "You sent Hoss away and you won't let me see Pa and now you want to send me away too! I hate you! I hate you and I wish you'd never come home!"

"Joe!" Adam held him by the arms, kneeling so he could look into his face. "Joe, I want you to calm down and listen to me."

"I don't have to listen to you!" Joe struggled against his brother's grip, but Adam was much stronger. "I don't have to do anything you say! I'm gonna do whatever I want and I'm gonna see my Pa!"

"Joe!" This time Adam gave him a shake. "You need to listen to me. You will NOT go in Pa's room - do you hear me? You will NOT, or I WILL have to send you to Devlins. Not forever - just until it's safe for you to be here! Do you understand me at all? Do you understand how important this is? Look at me, Joe!" Adam's voice had risen to match Joe's volume.

Joe raised his eyes reluctantly to meet Adam's, his lower lip trembling suspiciously.

Adam's fingers were digging into Joe's upper arms. He loosened his grip and tried to calm his voice. "All right, I don't want to scare you, but you need to understand - people can die from this. Now I want you to promise me that you will stay out of Pa's room. I want you to give me your word - or I will send you to Devlins, Joe - right now, this very minute. Do you understand me?"

Joe's eyes filled with tears. After a long moment, he nodded.

Adam relaxed his grip a little more. "Then I have your word?"

Joe nodded again. Adam let out his breath in a gust of relief. "Thanks." He gave him a quick hug, but Joe remained rigid.

Adam released him, searching his expression anxiously. "Sit down and eat breakfast. You don't have any school today, but there are a lot of things you can do to help out. I'd better check on Pa and Smokey and Deever - with all that yelling they probably think we're under Indian attack. I'll be back in just a minute." He watched to be sure Joe had seated himself and Hop Sing was on hand before heading toward the stairs.

Paul finished his eggs and rose to his feet. "I'll go with you - one last look before I start out." With a quick glance at Joe, he followed Adam up the stairs. Once they were out of earshot he said quietly, "I still think it's a good idea."

Adam looked at him and looked away. "I'll think about it."

"All right then. I'll let you know if the Devlins are still free of illness." He pushed open Ben's door. "Oh, and Adam - " Adam raised a questioning brow. "Try and get some sleep."

Adam squinted at him with the faintest of smiles. "Right, Doc. Just as soon as you do."

000

"Moved that 150 head down to the east pasture, Mr. Cartwright. Clyde and Frank are just scouring up there fer stragglers. Lem and Paint oughter have a chance ta replace that section o' fence tomorra."

Adam glanced up from the fence he was examining to Curly and nodded. "There's a group scattered over the western range that'll need to be collected, too. Tomorrow. "

"Yes, sir."

Adam glanced up at him again. This sudden politeness was almost as unnerving as the past insolence had been - he was actually stiff from holding himself ready, waiting for the next sneak attack - but none had come, not one all day. He half wished they'd just do it and get it over with.

"Anythin' else, sir?"

Adam shook his head. Sir. It was close to being comical. Well, maybe without their leader the fun had gone out of the game. "Have somebody double-check on supplies, though. With the quarantine we can't go into to town to collect any unless we're hard up and someone will have to volunteer if we need them. Hopefully we won't. Hard to know who handled what and what would be safe anyway. Guess we're better off than the town residents." He realized that he was rambling, thinking out loud, and stopped abruptly. His mind wasn't really here and he probably wasn't fooling anyone. "Anybody else show signs of being sick?" he asked.

"Not yet." The "yet" hung in the air, vaguely alarming.

"Well, that's something anyway. I'd better go see about the ones who are then. Good night, Curly." Adam started toward Sport.

"Mr. Cartwright?"

Adam turned questioningly.

Curly hesitated, then reddened uncomfortably.

"Well?" asked Adam after a puzzled minute.

"Um…well…we'll see to that western range tomorra."

Adam raised his brows. "Okay. Good. That all?"

Cury's face deepened to scarlet. "Yes, sir."

Adam nodded, mystified, then mounted Sport and wheeled him in the direction of the ranch.

The ranch house was quiet when he arrived, so he went directly to the kitchen seeking Hop Sing. He found him straining broth into a large kettle, looking frazzled.

Adam watched for a moment. "That for the patients?"

Hop Sing grunted assent.

"How are they doing?"

"Sick," answered Hop Sing shortly.

"How's Joe?"

"Him sulk."

Adam winced. "Where is he?"

"Room."

"Not all day?"

"No," Hop Sing admitted. "Him cut wood. Help in kitchen."

"Good." He looked at the tray Hop Sing was preparing. "Who's that for?"

"Missa Smokey. Nobody else eat. Throats too sore."

Adam reached to take it from him. "Let me take care of that. I'll look in on Pa, too. You look like you could use a break."

Hop Sing glared. "You out working all day."

"Well, you've been in here working all day and you've had Joe on your hands. That counts as double duty. Keep this up and you'll be sick too."

Hop Sing's face scrunched into a frown, mortally offended. "Hop Sing never sick," he said indignantly.

"There's a first time for everything. Let's not tempt fate."

Adam managed to wrest the tray from Hop Sing who grumbled something and turned his attention to supper.

The upstairs seemed even quieter than the downstairs had. Adam balanced the tray on one arm and knocked lightly before entering. The light was dim and the fire low and he waited for a minute for his eyes to adjust, grimacing a little at the hoarse growl of Deever's breathing. When he could see clearly he made his way to Smokey's bedside and rested the tray on the night table. Smokey's eyes had been closed but he opened them and scowled as Adam felt his forehead.

"How you feeling?"

Smokey shrugged indifferently. "Good enough."

"Yeah, I'll bet." Adam felt the lumps under Smokey's chin and the cowhand jerked back. "That's what I thought." He pulled the cork out of the medicine bottle on the night table and measured some liquid into a spoon. "Here. Doc swears by it."

Smokey swallowed carefully, still looking disgruntled.

"Hop Sing thought you were ready to eat something."

"Reckon." Smokey choked on the word, swallowing uncomfortably.

Adam eyed him. "Better reheat your towel. Deever's too - I don't like the way he sounds at all. Think you can feed yourself, or you want help?"

"Myself."

Adam's throat hurt just listening to him try to talk. "Okay. " He helped Smokey sit up and settled the tray on his lap, removing the towel and taking it to the kettle over the fire to reheat. He added Deever's towel, pausing to check his temperature. Deever sounded bad. He should probably get some medicine down him too. He glanced up to see how Smokey was managing his broth and caught him staring at him. He raised his eyebrows. "Something you need?"

Smokey shook his head.

"That going down all right?"

Smokey shrugged.

Adam turned away resignedly. He had heard of people who developed saintly demeanors when ill - clearly Smokey wasn't one of them. He fished out the two towels, wringing them out with a wooden dowel and letting them cool a bit before returning one to Deever and the other to Smokey.

Deever didn't open his eyes but he seemed to relax a little. Smokey looked cranky, but accepted it.

"Anything else I can get you?" It looked as though he'd made a dent in the broth anyway.

Smokey shook his head.

"All right. Hop Sing or I will be back to check on you and take the tray." He washed his hands and headed down the hall to look in on his father.

Ben didn't seem much better either. He was restless and groggy and Adam spent some time trying to get some water, then the medicine, down him. Ben gagged repeatedly, as though he had something stuck in his throat, but after a while managed to swallow the medicine. Adam was pretty sure he wasn't even aware he was there. He sat with him only briefly, since Hop Sing was probably timing him to be sure he didn't linger too long.

It unsettled him to see his father sick and helpless - he couldn't remember the last time he'd been bedridden - somehow in his mind he had always seemed invulnerable.

"Missa Adam!" Hop Sing's voice wasn't loud, but it carried down the hall.

He had been right. Timing him.

Adam stepped into the hall to see Hop Sing at the top of the stairs.

"Suppa. Bring Little Joe." Hop Sing disappeared back down the staircase.

Adam paused to refresh his father's towel and feel his forehead again before washing his hands and rapping on the nearest door.

"Joe?"

No answer.

He tried a little louder. "Joe? Supper's ready."

There was prolonged silence. Joe silent was about as unsettling as his father ill. Adam was just about to turn the knob when the door opened abruptly. Joe brushed past him without a glance or word and headed for the stairs.

Adam blew out his breath slowly. Well, evidently he hadn't been forgiven for that little scene this morning. Just when he'd thought he was making some progress, too.

Swallowing his disappointment, he pushed himself away from the door and started slowly down the stairs after him.

TBC