*Disclaimer:All recognizable aspects copyright Bonanza Ventures, David Dortort, et all. This story is written for enjoyment, not for profit.

Back to Good
(a WHN for "The Lawmaker")
by Gaerwn

Hoss was doing the paperwork. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, but an agreement was an agreement and he'd rather get it done than sit and stare and bemoan his fate. Adam had taken refuge in, of all places, the cell furthest from the big double doors behind the desk. As long as no one locks it, he'd said and half-collapsed on the bunk, hat pulled down over his eyes.

A month gone and he still struggled with the occasional headache and bout of dizziness. At least that was better than the irritability that had plagued him - and his brothers and father in the process - for the first couple weeks. After Moran's death and despite some very real reservations from both the Cartwrights and some members of town, Hoss and Joe had taken the mantle of temporary sheriff upon themselves, until such a time as either Roy Coffee or Ed Prentiss came back. Neither brother called himself the sheriff; as far as they were concerned, they were both deputies acting in the stead of an absent sheriff and very present judge.

The judge took it upon himself to check in at least twice a day and heaven help them if both Joe and Hoss were out somewhere when the judge came by. Ben and Adam, when they were in town, stopped in or otherwise tracked them down, just to check in. All the hovering was beginning to even wear on Hoss, so it was no wonder that Joe had finally cracked a little and gone off on an extended patrol - even though it was the middle of the day and it was technically his turn to deal with the more mundane aspects of the job. Adam had, more than once, just taken care of the paperwork when he was in town. In fact, he'd been doing this batch before light and sound became problematic.

When Adam had first been injured, Hoss hadn't thought it was too bad. They'd all taken a knock on the head here and again and Adam had been aware and responsive the day they'd taken him from the jail. Maybe it had just been wishful thinking; Paul's repeated admonitions to keep things quiet for days on end somehow hadn't sunk in. It wasn't until three days after Adam had come home (and six days after he'd first been attacked) that Hoss had realized how close they'd come to losing him.

Adam had been strapping on his gunbelt at the door, intent on going out to work despite doctor's - and father's - orders. Hoss had been standing next to him, hand on his own belt on the credenza, and had been close enough to see something that scared a good ten years off his life. Adam had reached for his hat hanging on the peg by the door, paused, blinked twice, and collapsed without a sound. Hoss had caught him and, upon feeling the muscles twitching under his hands, thought Adam was trying to regain his feet. Horror had filled him when he'd realized Adam was out cold. The convulsion had only lasted for a few seconds - half a minute at the most - but Hoss was absolutely certain that time had slowed to a crawl. The most frightening part was that, when Adam came back to himself, his eyes had been blank for a long moment. He'd looked through Hoss before he'd seen him.

And so Hoss had learned how close he'd come to losing his older brother. All that medical jargon couldn't nearly sum up the belated horror. Adam would just have to excuse him if he hovered a little as the headaches gradually came less often.

The door opened. Hoss looked up and upon seeing it was Joe, chucked his thumb over his shoulder and shook his head. Joe nodded and caught the door to close it gently. There were no questions asked over Adam's state; if he was laying down in a cell, then he probably didn't feel all that great. "Stage is in town," Joe said quietly. He eyed the open double doors. "Maybe we should close 'em."

Hoss shook his head. "Nope." Call him paranoid. Call him a dadburned mother hen, but those doors were staying open.

Joe shrugged one shoulder, not questioning it. "Roy was on the stage."

"He's early, ain't he?" Hoss set the stack of wanted poster aside and gave Joe a confused look.

Joe, for his part, just looked uncomfortable. "Seems someone sent him a wire about all this. He's coming straight here. Doc Martin's practically jogging beside him."

"Well..." A good many words ran through Hoss' mind, none of them fit to say in polite company. The last thing he wanted to do was be around when Roy decided to have his say about this mess. There'd be a fit of temper, to be sure; Roy Coffee made no bones about this town being his to protect and his to love. Given the look on Joe's face, he understood full well what Hoss was thinking. "How much time we got?"

In answer, the door opened again and loud voices heralded the return of Virginia City's sheriff. "Get yer hands off me. I can walk just fine. Ben, that's hovering and I'll have no more of it."

"Now, Roy..."

The door was shoved open; Hoss and Joe winced as it banged loudly on the wall before bouncing back - only to be shoved again. Joe practically leaped to catch it before it hit the wall again. Roy, cast on his leg, thumped into the office, went straight to the desk with Ben Cartwright and Paul Martin trailing behind him, and slammed a piece of paper down on the desk in front of Hoss. "Someone go about explainin' this to me."

Behind Roy, Joe was trying to silently tell Ben about Adam, but the frantic shushing gestures were lost on the man and Hoss nearly laughed aloud at the befuddled look gracing his father's face. The wary and angry confusion in Roy's posture, though, kept him quiet. He picked up the paper and sighed at the very short wire that had somehow missed the point entirely.

ASA MORAN DEAD. STOP.

Hoss turned the paper over, as if the rest of the message would be on the back. That's all it said? No wonder Roy was fit to be tied. He looked past Roy to Ben and Paul and raised his eyebrows. "You didn't tell him?"

"He didn't let us," Ben groused, while still staring at Joe. "What?" he finally thundered.

Joe opened and closed his mouth for a moment before lamely answering. "Quiet, please."

"Too late," came the bleary voice from behind Hoss. Adam leaned on the doorjamb, arms crossed and hat pulled low. "Appreciate the thought, though." He reached over Hoss' shoulder and took the paper. He squinted at it, tilted it to the side, and finally grunted in disbelief and annoyance. "Couldn't even tell the whole story."

Roy's hand slammed down on the desk. Everyone, save for Adam, jumped at the sound. Adam laid his hand over his eyes and tried not to groan. "I'm still here. Still waitin'."

"Roy, sit down, would you?" Paul gestured to the chair Hoss hastily vacated. It was with muttered grumping that Roy did as asked. He stared while Hoss and Ben took it upon themselves to walk Adam to the bench.

Adam, for his part, shook off their help, slumped onto the bench, and looked back at Roy with one eye open. "It's just a headache," he said.

"Yeah? And how dizzy are you this time?"

"Joe." Ben cut in before Hoss could ask after any convulsions. "Let him be."

By now, it was obvious that something was very wrong. Roy pointed to the paper still in Adam's hand. "Explain."

Ben did.

Somewhere along the way, Paul stopped fussing over both Roy and Adam. Hoss sat down on the bench and Adam leaned lightly against his bigger brother's shoulder. Joe stood in a corner, arms crossed and anger at a dead man evident.

And Roy? Roy sat silently, his hands clasped in front of him. Knuckles white on the desk, he said nothing even after Ben had stopped speaking. "Three dead," he intoned and, damn it all, he counted Asa among them. "Two injured." Narrowed eyes settled on Adam, who made an valiant attempt to sit straight and keep Roy's gaze. "Both of 'em off the Ponderosa."

"Roy." Ben's voice was sharp enough that Adam winced. "Enough. Nobody could have predicted this."

Roy's silence was eloquent. He didn't believe a word of what Ben was saying. It wasn't absolution he sought; maybe he just wanted one of them to condemn him - and he looked straight at Adam for it.

Adam leaned forward and pushed his hat back with one finger. Light still bothered him and Lord knew every raised voice from earlier had sent a dagger straight through his mind. But his eyes were clear and his expression open. There was only honesty there.

And he simply waited for Roy to speak.

"Sorry, boy." Two words and almost flippant, but the undercurrent of real regret was apparent to all in the room.

"You and me both," Adam answered. He stretched his legs in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and lazily settled back into his spot leaning on Hoss' shoulder. Slowly, he pulled his hat back down over his eyes and closed the world out.

Hoss noticed that his hand wasn't shaking. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Roy grunted and, in the silence that followed, picked up the stack of wanted posters Hoss had set aside. Lines of tension in his shoulders gradually eased and Hoss realized that whatever had passed in the exchange between Roy and Adam had been enough. He hardly noticed when Ben and Paul left, barely realized it when Joe quietly asked for direction and got it. But he did know the moment that Adam fell asleep; his posture relaxed and breathing deepened.

Roy looked up as Hoss craned his neck to check on his brother. "Don't you let him fall asleep in the cells anymore," he said gruffly.

Hoss grinned. "No, sir."

Silence settled in the office and, though the air had been rife with tension not long ago, Hoss relaxed. Felt good to get back to normal.

-The End-