Notes: I basically wrote this because Lee, my favorite of the Seven, deserved so much better than the fate he received. And that's why fix-it fics like this were invented. Also the character of the doctor is totally meant to have been played by David McCallum.

The last thing Lee had recalled was a searing pain blossoming from his shoulder as he slumped against the wall. He had accepted that he had, at last, met the bullet that had been faster than him.

And though the darkness descended upon him, the pain in his shoulder did not fade. He could hear the fighting still going on around him—the shouts and shots that reminded him so much of the war he had desperately fled from. The sounds did not quiet. The release did not arrive.

This was not what he had been expecting. Death was taking its own sweet time with him.

As time went on and the shouting and shooting subsided, fatigue and blood loss were soon beginning to drag him deeper into the darkness. And that was when they started appearing before him—one by one, the dead enemies of his past, emerging from the darkness, glaring at him, just as they did in his nightmares.

No… No, not this! he mentally screamed. Not again! I thought I was going to be free from this…!

Only the dead are without fear… Wasn't that what the villagers had said?

A fresh wave of fear gripped at him as the specter of Calvera himself now pushed past the others, sneering at him.

"What will you do?" the vision taunted. "Join us? Or return to your miserable existence, full of fear, always looking over your shoulder?"

Lee's heart pounded faster, and, somewhere in the waking world, he heard Chico yelling—

"He's still alive! Lee's alive!"

And in his vision, Lee stumbled backwards from the crowd of spirits, still staring him down.

"Your fears will still haunt your waking hours," Calvera taunted. "You will return to an existence as lonely as before, always running from those who will want your title as a master gunfighter. Surrender your title now, to my man who shot you, and join us. Three of your comrades already did."

Behind Calvera and the crowd of enemies, he saw footprints in what seemed to be shadowy sand, heading in the direction of a doorway of light off in the distance. Following the direction of the prints, he could see Britt walking away, with Harry discernable further off in the distance; as Lee stared, he saw Britt turn back and meet his gaze. Britt didn't say a word; he just shook his head, turned around again, and continued toward the doorway as Harry vanished through it.

"What will you do?" Calvera asked again. Only this time, it sounded less like a taunt and more like a piercing question—one that Lee knew he would have to answer before the decision was made for him.

From somewhere else, he could hear Chris's voice.

"Lee!" he barked. "Lee, wake up!"

Lee stumbled backwards some more from Calvela and the ghost crowd, wincing as the pain in his shoulder grew with each step. Chris's voice was getting louder, as well—still ordering him to wake up. Though the specters all hissed and jeered at him, daring him to stay, Chris was tenacious, refusing to accept his silence.

Though it seemed to be a Herculean effort, Lee opened his eyes, suppressing a whimper as a fire continued to spread in his shoulder wound. He let his gaze wander, taking in the faces of concerned villagers looking back at him, with one of them pressing a cloth to his wound to stop the bleeding. To his right, Chris was there; Lee attempted to say something, but Chris raised a hand to quiet him.

"Conserve your strength," Chris ordered. "There is a doctor who travels around the area, giving medical aid to the villagers whenever he is here; Vin and Chico have gone to look for him. It may take some time, but they will do their best to bring him here to treat you and the other wounded."

Lee exhaled slightly and gave Chris a questioning look.

"You, Lee, will do everything in your power to stay alive," Chris added. He indicated the villagers. "You were willing to give your life for them; now they will look after you until the doctor gets here."

If he'd had the strength, Lee would have likely commented on how that was a first; such kindness and concern were foreign to him—fear and revulsion were what he usually faced. And fear was, usually, what he felt. This… was a very pleasant change.

Lee shut his eyes again, though still awake, silently ordering himself not to get used to it—someone like him simply couldn't afford to.

There wasn't really much Lee could do other than rest and accept the care of the villagers. He quickly lost track of time, and was unsure as to how long he had been lying there, slipping in and out of consciousness. While awake, he could hear Chris and the villagers checking up on him; some of them applied herbs to his wound. But, while asleep, the same vision flickered in and out of his mind—Calvera and his other dead enemies, blocking the way to that strange doorway of light. But as time drew on and Lee felt his strength draining further, it was as though the doorway was moving closer.

"Give up!" Calvera hissed. "What do you think you will prove, continuing your miserable existence? Always running, always fearing an attack? Living in barns and shacks for outrageous prices because no one wants anything to do with you and the trouble that will always follow you?"

The crowd of specters now formed a circle around him, and the familiar sensation of ice-cold fear prickled down Lee's spine.

No… Stay back…

They paid him no heed, instead closing in around him further.

"We are doing you a favor," Calvera smirked. "Seize him! He will join us now!"

No! Please-!

Their ghostly hands reached out from all directions. Lee's eyes shot open as a cry of fear left his lips; he had felt hands grasping at him, and could feel them now, even in the waking world.

"It's alright…" a voice said. "You're safe now."

Lee glanced up to see a young, blond man he didn't know, but the man was holding a roll of linen bandages—the doctor that Chris had mentioned, no doubt. Villagers were standing close by, concerned by his shout.

The blond gently tied off the bandages around Lee's chest.

"I am Dr. Muscovy," he said. "They tell me that your name is Lee?"

Lee managed a weak nod.

"Well, Lee, you are a very lucky man; you've been given a second chance," Dr. Muscovy said. "You spent a day and a half with that bullet in your shoulder. I've managed to get it out, and the wound will fully heal, thanks in part to the herbs these men and women treated you with—prevented the wound from getting septic. I recommend that you rest; you will find that it will heal more quickly. I shall return after looking after my other patients."

Lee gave another nod and closed his eyes again as the doctor left and the villagers began to tend to him again.

Heal quickly… and then what? Lee silently asked. Calvera was right; everything will go back to the way it was before—running solo, sleepless nights, and nightmares on those rare occasions I do sleep. I may have survived this, but there'll be another bullet faster than me out there, waiting for me. Some second chance.

"Lee?"

Lee opened his eyes to see Chris by his side again.

"Vin and I will be moving on," Chris informed him. "But if you wish to travel with us, we will be willing to wait until you are able to leave."

Lee shook his head.

"Don't let me keep you," he mumbled. He gave a rueful smile. "Besides… I'm a bit of a hazard…."

"That was never a concern of ours," Chris insisted. "But if you wish to travel your own path, then far be it from me to stop you." He extended a hand, and Lee weakly took it. "Farewell, Lee. Perhaps our paths will cross again one day."

Lee nodded once more and Chris took his leave, with some of the villagers going to see him off; Vin stopped by a few minutes later to say goodbye, as well, and after they had left, Chico returned, announcing to Lee that he would be staying in the village—and that Lee would certainly be welcome to do so, as well.

But Lee had already decided that he couldn't stay; after all, he had come here to protect the villagers, and his presence would draw other dangerous folk here. And every moment he stayed here was an opportunity to be tracked down.

His old life would catch up to him soon, he knew. Rest, though recommended by the doctor, was not a luxury he could afford.

It was after a few nights that Lee decided to take his leave—no announcement, no fanfare, just a chance to ride off into the night and use the cover of dark to find his next refuge. He'd left a letter for Chico—unsigned, but it would be clear to him who it was from.

He clutched at his shoulder as he limped to where he had left his horse; he had just been undoing the reins when a voice behind him startled him—

"I thought I told you to rest!"

"Dr. Muscovy…!"

"Well, as long as you're up and about, come to my wagon—I want to see how that wound has been healing," the young doctor said, ignoring Lee's protests.

Lee soon found himself reclined on the small bed in the back of the doctor's wagon as Muscovy tutted under his breath while he examined the young gunfighter.

"Well, it's healing," the doctor agreed. "But I still think your departure is premature."

"I don't have much of a choice," Lee said, flatly. "Look, Doc, I appreciate your concern, but I'm not the kind of man who can afford to stay too long in any one place."

"Very well," the doctor said. "I am about to leave, as well, so there is little for me to do than tell you to look after yourself."

Lee nodded, and he then picked up his shirt and went through the pockets, trying to scrounge up whatever coins he could find, having already used his $20 to pay his previous room and board.

"Look, this is all I have—take it as payment for… this. If you tell me where you'll be, I'll try to send you more, when I get it."

"…Did I ever ask for your money?" Dr. Muscovy asked, half amused. "My services in these rural villages are purely charitable! Those who can do so give me food—that's usually all I need to get me along my route back to the beginning. I also have some savings, and funds given to me by wealthier travelers I've helped along the road. So, even without pay, I can get by enough to help them."

"…Why?" Lee wondered.

"I could ask you why you fought to defend these people."

"It was something I had to do."

"And my answer is the same. I took an oath," the young doctor said, simply. "And I realized that my services would be of most use here—places where there are no other medical practitioners." He paused. "I still recommend you stay and rest, but if you are determined to leave, I can't stop you. Are you headed anywhere in particular?"

Lee shook his head.

"I'll probably find some places to lay low until this shoulder fully heals, and then I'll be off to wherever the money is." Lee paused. "I suppose you're returning back?"

"No, my route takes me past the hills, further south," the doctor said.

"The hills?" Lee repeated. "Doc, you can't! The survivors of Calvera's men will be there—and they'll be hungry and desperate enough to attack you!"

"Nevertheless, there are people past those hills—farmers and the like—who will need my aid. My route is regular; it's how these villagers knew that I was coming. Others will be expecting me."

"What are you going to do if you're attacked? Are you armed?"

Dr. Muscovy shook his head.

"No; I'll just bank on being able to outrun them," he said, simply.

"You can't…!" Lee protested, trying to find the words. "You can't risk going alone and unprotected!"

"…Is this you volunteering your services to me?" Dr. Muscovy asked, almost amused. "I can't pay you, but I can offer you meals. …And it would allow me to supervise your shoulder personally for much longer."

Lee gave him a hollow laugh.

"I'm the last person you want for that," he informed him. "You'd just be trading one problem for another."

"I'm quite familiar with the lives of gunfighters, having treated many like you," the young doctor said. "And I am aware of the risks involved. That being said, my invitation still stands."

Lee exhaled. First Chris, the villagers, and now Dr. Muscovy—perhaps Calvera and the others were wrong… Perhaps he wouldn't be returning to the exact same thing as before…

He had been given a second chance. Perhaps this was why?

"Look, ah…" Lee said, at last. "How 'bout I help you get past those bandits first and we'll see from there?"

"Yes, I think that's a good place to start," the doctor agreed. "Hitch your horse to the wagon, and we'll be off. I suggest you continue to rest in case there is a need for your aid. Hopefully, our journey shall be uneventful."

Lee was about to do so, but then paused.

"There's one thing I should do first. Can you wait for just a few minutes?"

"Certainly," Dr. Muscovy said. "But be careful—don't overexert yourself!"

Lee nodded, slowly heading back into the village. He would say goodbye properly, he decided—give a farewell to Chico and thank the villagers who tended to him. And then he would head out with Dr. Muscovy—past the hills, and, perhaps… wherever else the road took them.

Perhaps he could get used to this, after all.