By: Phantom babe
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the members of the Magnificent seven (dramatic sigh). I also don't own any of the horses they are riding (accept Chris', because I couldn't remember it's name) : )
Rating: PG-13 for some language and violence.
Comments: If anyone can remember any of the seven's horses' names, please tell me. I only remember Ezra's horses' name. Also please excuse anything in this story that may be inaccurate. If you happen to notice anything, please let me know and I will try and fix it. (maybe) : )
All Too Familiar
He couldn't move no matter how much he fought the four men forcing him to lie flat on his stomach and one man was forcing him to keep his head straight toward his burning house.
"NOOOO! SARAH!" He tried to move, but it was hopeless trying to fight the four larger men who were now laughing at his inane attempts. "MY WIFE AND CHILD ARE IN THERE!" He yelled to the man who appeared to be in charge, who began walking toward him and seemed to be enjoying the fact that he was pinned under four of his best men.
"Oh but Mr. Larabee… we know. Now you will know what it is like to loose someone you love more than anything." "For the thousandth time I didn't shoot your brother in cold blood!" Chris Larabee yelled, his face soaking wet with sweat and tears that were uncontrollably streaming down his face.
"Don't lie to me Larabee!" The larger man's once calm features became full of anger and hate. "Who else could have done it!" "He was going to kill me and my mother! I wasn't going to stand by and let that happen!" "Exactly! You did it! And now you pay the price!" The man yelled as the roof of the burning house collapsed. As Chris was punched unconscious he heard a ear piercing scream of pain that could have only come from one person…. Sarah.
Before Chris lost consciousness he managed to scream Sarah's name one last time.
Ezra Standish was woken up by a scream in the room just opposite of his in the hotel.
Chris!
Ezra jumped out of the bed, realizing that once again he fell asleep in his clothes.
He ran to the room next to his and tried the handle. But it was locked. He rammed his shoulder into the door with all of his strength. He wasted no time in getting from the door to Chris' side. "Mr. Larabee!" Chris Larabee bolted awake just barely missing the gamblers head. He was shaking and dripping in sweat. Once Chris had gotten his bearings he looked over to his right side where he saw an Ezra Standish with a very worried look on his face.
"Just a nightmare." Chris said calmly hoping that the gambler would leave it at that… no such luck.
"This is the third time this week Mr. Larabee." "I'm fine. I just need to go for a walk." With that Chris got up, got dressed and walked out the door without even a glance toward the now dumbfounded gambler. (This was probably the first time in history, that Ezra Standish was speechless)
"I swear, that man will never tell anyone what is going on in that diminutive (tiny) head of his. He just walks off like he's carrying the whole world on his shoulders." With that, the gambler went back to his room and laid back down to go to sleep again forgetting to change his clothes.
Chris Larabee was a quiet man. Usually kept to himself and hated to be pitied. Whenever any one asked him if there was something wrong he would just shrug and say he just needed sleep. But in fact Chris Larabee was anything but ok. Ezra was right-this was the third time this week he had dreamt of the one night, he had been spending his whole life trying to forget.
What the hell is going on with me? It's been six years since I've had that nightmare. Why is it back?
Chris had been walking around town, just letting his feet take him wherever they wanted. It turned out, they took him back to the saloon. He pushed the swinging doors apart as if they weren't even there. Knowing there was no one else around, he reached over the counter and grabbed a drink from behind the bar. He would pay for it later… if he was sober enough to remember.
He walked over to one of the tables in the back of the room so that if anyone did come in, he would hopefully go unnoticed, and slowly drank away into oblivion.
Buck was usually the first one into the saloon in the mornings. The early bird gets the girls. He thought to himself, unable to keep a small grin off his face. He was about to reach over the counter and grab himself a beer when a black figure hunched over one of the tables in the corner caught his eye.
What the hell?
As he walked over. Then when he was just about to check for a pulse, he was suddenly met with two clouded over blue eyes and a gun pointed at his manhood.
"Well good morning' to you too." Buck said sarcastically inching away from the weapon.
"You were the last person I was hoping to see this early in the morning." The handsome, slightly smaller man said with a noticeable slur in his voice.
Buck looked from the eight empty bottles of vodka back to Chris- well what was left of Chris.
"Alright buddy, I think you've had about enough to drink for at least a week." "Go away." The very drunken man said dropping his head back onto the table as if it weighed 100 pounds.
Ignoring Chris, Buck began to take the bottles back over to the bar. When he returned he reached over to help the ex-gunslinger to his feet, but soon as he got him to his feet Chris turned a threw a sloppy punch aimed at Bucks head. But Buck ducked and Chris fell unconscious over his shoulder. As Buck stood to leave, with an unconscious Chris slumped over his shoulder, he was met with a worried look from Nathan, who had apparently just entered the room.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Casually asked the healer, ready to offer his expertise if it were needed.
"Aww, Chris just had a rough night. Found him over in the corner there with eight empty bottles of booze.
"EIGHT BOTTLES!" Exclaimed the suddenly worried healer. "Yeah so?" Said an obviously confused Buck.
"That's four times too much alcohol for any man." "Take him up to his room and I'll bring him some coffee." Said Nathan. But with one more glance at their leader said "Some very strong coffee." With that Buck carried Chris up the stairs and to his room which he found unlocked.
He must have really left in a hurry last night. Buck thought as he placed Chris' unconscious form onto the bed.
Nathan came into the room carrying four cups of coffee.
"Oh thank you Nathan. You didn't have to bring me anything." "It's not for you." The man said as he walked over to the bedside.
"Buck hold him up while I pour some coffee into him." Buck walked over to Chris and placed one hand on his back and gently pushed his surprisingly light upper body into a sitting position and used his other hand to steady him. Then Nathan began pouring the scorching hot liquid into the mans mouth, most of it spilling onto his favorite black shirt.
"Man is he going to be pissed when he wakes up." Buck said looking at the stains already forming on the shirt.
"Probably." Nathan said only halfway listening to him.
Once they got to the second cup of coffee, Chris started to come to.
"What the hell?" Was the first thing he said. Then all of a sudden he leaned back onto the pillow, with Buck no longer supporting him and grabbed his head saying "Oh God I'm gonna be sick!" "That'll teach you to go through enough vodka to kill a horse." Said Nathan as he helped Chris to a chair and handed him another cup of coffee.
"I'll go get some more coffee for Buck and I. I'll be right back." Said Nathan heading out the door.
"What time is it?" Asked a more sober Chris, than what Buck had stumbled upon earlier this morning.
"It's about 7:30 or so. You've been out for about two hours." Buck paused for a moment and then gathered the courage to finally ask the question that had been eating at him the entire morning.
"There back aren't they?" Chris was caught off guard. He looked at Buck and decided he trusted Buck enough to tell him the truth. Besides, Buck got him out of this mess before, maybe he could do it again.
"There back." He said flatly.
"How long?" "Since Wednesday." "Man, why didn't you say anything?" Buck asked.
"I didn't want to be a burden to anyone. They need to be focused on the stage coming in this afternoon." "I understand but if you keep this hidden for too long you won't be any help to us." Buck said with a worried glance to, who he considered his friend.
"I know. I keep getting the feeling that these dreams are trying to tell me something. I just don't know what yet."
So. What do you think so far? So far, this is my favorite Magnificent Seven fic. Anyway, review and tell me what you think. If you don't, I might just leave you hanging... or maybe not, it all depends on you. XOXO to all my fans. Luv you bunches.