To Be Whole Again

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work and I unfortunately don't own them. No copyright infringement is intended.

CHAPTER 1

The creaking of the large windmill's blades could be heard as the night breeze tried to coax them into movement, but the wind was still too weak. It next sought out the man standing beside the machine. It caressed his wheat colored locks like a baby's sigh and began drying the fine hairs on his neck that had been dampened by the misting of sweat that now covered his body. Though the air around him had cooled; his body temperature had risen invoking the desperate need to be rid of the smothering coat he wore. He reached up to remove it but found that it was already hanging over one of the windmill's leg braces. He didn't remember removing it but he had been distracted by the cabin standing beautiful and solid before him. He didn't understand why seeing the cabin in this state made his heart ache and his arms yearn to be filled by his wife and child. He felt as if he was trapped where he was; the pain in his heart suddenly filled his consciousness and as he concentrated on it the pain it moved around his side to settle in his lower back. He tried to rub at the uncomfortable spot but it was as if his arms were being held by invisible hands and he felt the heat within grow hotter. The overwhelming urge to get to the cabin increased and whatever had held him still released him and he was finally able to move.

He was standing at the base of the stairs and could not remember crossing the open area between them and the windmill. The leaden feeling had returned and he stepped up slowly onto the first tread. His boots made a hollow sound on the stairs as he ascended to the porch. The night sounds seemed to be magnified; the crickets were almost deafening and an occasional croak could be heard from a bullfrog out near the well. As he neared the door he could hear his spurs ring out with each step; he was certain that whoever was inside would be able to hear him approaching the door. There was a comforting glow coming from the windows that were closed against the cold though he was by now burning up. He grasped the handle on the door and tried to enter but the door was locked. Why would she lock the door when she knew he was just outside? He checked through each pocket and even as he did he knew it wouldn't be there. The key was safely in his room in Four Corners stored away with other mementos of the past. As his thoughts ground to a halt and he questioned why he would know such an odd fact the pain in his back exploded almost dropping him to his knees. His skin turned clammy and he struggled to pull a breath. "Sarah! Please help me!" he cried out but she couldn't help him because his beautiful, vivacious Sarah could not hear him. She was inside with their son, Adam and he was locked outside the cabin. He was forbidden from entering that cabin and joining them all because he had left the stupid key in Four Corners.

He was able to take a shuddering breath and the pain retreated to some distant corner of his mind. He would change his tactics and bring Sarah to him; she could open the door. He knocked on the door but there was no acknowledgment even though he heard their laughter coming from within. He sighed in frustration and moved along the front of the cabin to look in through the window. Looking inside he could see his family playing some game that Sarah had made up for she and Adam. They were laughing, smiling and blessedly alive and whole. His thoughts stopped again and he wondered why he would think such a thing. "Larabee you're off your rocker. They are right there where they should be. Sarah would never leave you." As he reached up to rap on the window, the window went dark preventing him from seeing inside and the glass unexpectedly shattered; the wood sills and walls turned to ash and blew away on the wind.

The smell of burnt wood and charred flesh filled his nose and he choked on the fetid smoke. He looked across what had once been a home full of promise and love, to see to two figures burnt beyond recognition. One was much smaller than the other and was lying beneath the slightly larger one. He tried to move to them but his feet suddenly felt chained and he was impossibly hot and growing hotter by the moment. He heard a roaring sound come from behind him and a hot wind slapped him in the back. He turned to look over his shoulder and his burning, watering eyes watched as the wooded area caught fire, the flames dropping from the limbs like rain; catching the grass on fire. As the fire grew closed he grew hotter, so hot he could barely stand to be in his own skin. He tried to back away but his feet were rooted to the ground and no matter how hard he tried to pull his feet free they remained firmly planted. He knew he couldn't save himself; he hadn't been able to save Sarah and Adam all those years ago. He hadn't even known that they needed help and if he had known he couldn't have gotten to them in time. He'd been with Buck and had chosen to stay one more night away after successfully selling their horses. He'd let his family down, failing them when he was needed the most. A lowly growl caused him to suddenly look up and there it was; the fire was right before him. He screamed in frustration and pain as the fire jumped forward and consumed him.

"Jesus Vin!" Nathan snapped as he cut deeper into the wound, "hold 'em down. I can't see from all the blood. He's bleeding so much. I've got to get the bullet out!" Nathan pulled the knife from the wound so he could use his arm to wipe away the sweat that was running into his eyes.

"Please tell me you've almost got it" Buck begged from where he was lying across Chris's legs trying to use his body weight to hold his friend still. It was like trying to control a bucking stallion; it was amazing how much fight Chris still had in him.

Vin and J.D. were not having an easy time of it either. It was taking both of them to hold down his shoulders as he screamed and tried thrash against the instruments that would penetrate the gory, bloody hole in his lower back in search of the elusive bit of lead. The door bouncing off the wall drew their attention as Tiny and Josiah came through the opening carrying two buckets of water each. "Over by the stove." Nathan grunted out as he again probed the injury for the bullet. Chris let out another inhuman scream that caused the hair on the backs of everyone's neck to stand on end.

Tiny quickly filled their rapidly dwindling supply of boiling water with some of what he had just brought in and said, "If I'm no longer needed I'm going to go take care of Mr. Larabee's horse and clean his saddle." When Nathan told him that he could go Tiny lit out of the clinic like his hair was on fire. Tiny had been the person who had found the gunslinger when Pony had wandered back into town. Chris had been slumped over Pony's back, barely conscious and with no strength to help himself. The saddle and the horse's side had been saturated with his lifeblood which had continued to drip onto the arid ground. Tiny had pulled the slack body into his arms and had taken him up the stairs to the clinic, where Nathan now pulled on every skill he had to save the man he called friend.