Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

Not mine…

General Info:

Rated T

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions. As always, thank you for taking time to read my story.

To those who have reviewed:

I'm glad you have enjoyed the story thus far and that my characters have been so well received. I think many of you will be happy with this chapter. I did my best to make it original… So without further ado, bring on Cain :)

Chapter 4

"The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next." – Mignon McLaughlin

Before they left the small clearing where they touched down Del insisted on scavenging for supplies in the remains of the truck. It was probably the best suggestion anyone could have made. While there was not much left, what little they did find would come in handy.

Three 16 oz bottles of water were at least better than nothing, and they could be refilled when they crossed paths with a stream. As far as food went, two candy bars and a bag of Doritos were extracted from the glove box. It would make a measly meal.

Inside the box screwed into place in the bed of the truck, Fran removed a small sleeping bag, flashlight and three flares, gifts from Robbie's uncle who insisted they be kept in his car. Having endured a breakdown in the middle of nowhere, he didn't want his nephew to be without the necessities. DG made a mental note to send a thank you card for his foresight.

The last items to be extracted from the box were the true prize, a shotgun and box of ammo. Robbie was a small game hunter on occasion. A gun never looked so good to DG.

Once the foraging was complete DG watched Fran empty the contents of her overlarge purse onto the ground. Wallet, lipsticks, checkbook, pens, and a compact scattered over the dirt. As Fran placed the important items, the flashlight, flares, food and water, inside DG bent down to pick up the compact. Fumbling with the clasp she opened the lid wide, raising it to eye level and letting out an audible gasp at what was reflected back in her direction.

Dirt covered her face, the skin a sickly white where exposed. The light green fabric that used to be a shirt was stained darkly along the entire length of the right side of her head. The dark hair beneath was matted, sticking up awkwardly above the cloth and knotted at the base of her neck where it was tied back. Even her lips were pale.

With a soft click the compact closed in her hands. Silently she set it back on the ground as Fran stood, placing the long strap of the purse through her right arm and over her head to rest on her left shoulder. The sleeping bag swung slowly from where it was tied to the strap.

As soon as they started their journey, Robbie took up position behind the group, shotgun cocked, eyes scanning the area for any danger. In the time since they first arrived in the OZ he was reminding her more and more of Cain. He was on constant alert, ever the protector.

The left arm securely wrapped around her waist belonged to Del, his other arm hanging in the sling, completely useless. He was helping her walk through her dizzy spells and the pain radiating from her right hip. Even though she tried not to let her weight sag onto his proffered limb, it was hard to stop. And she was amazed at his strength given his current condition.

Fran was off to the left and a little ahead of the group. Whenever her left foot hit the ground she grimaced, the bruised calf giving off instant discomfort. Her right hand was clamped down on the purse to keep it from swinging, the sleeping bag swaying in time with her cadence. Not once did she voice the pain she felt from her injuries or irritation at having to carry all their gear. Instead, she put on a front, head held high in determination.

DG's mouth was dry, voice hoarse from the explanations she gave to her three companions. They were curious to learn more, continually chiming in with questions and observations. Del even expressed his opinion about the OZ defying the laws of physics having two suns, though he seemed to forget about her ability to do magic. There was no stopping the snicker when she remembered how much he used to struggle in school.

They trekked south for about two hours before they were clear of the orchard having never seen, or heard, any papay. Now that many of the trees were blooming again, fruit visible, DG hoped the menacing looking creatures had changed their ways.

It was not long after exiting the fields of the papay they came to a small village. There were between ten and fifteen buildings, some bigger than others. Stealthily Robbie moved to the front of the group and signaled for them to crouch behind some brush.

Fran took the opportunity to take one of the water bottles out of her bag, handing it to Del. He opened the proffered bottle and bringing it to his lips took a long swig before handing it off. Once the bottle returned to Fran she secured the cap on the now nearly empty container, stuffing it back into the bag.

"Del, D...er…Emily," he stuttered before correcting himself. "You two say here. Fran and I'll check things out." DG hated being left behind but knew the reason for it. Both of them were injured and it would be best if they kept out of view until it was determined the village was safe.

Robbie locked eyes with Del, both exchanging meaningful looks, before Robbie handed over the shotgun. No matter what loyalties this village had, walking into it with a cocked shotgun would not go over well. A moment later, Robbie turned around to make his way into town.

Before he had gone two steps DG's hand shot out, seizing his wrist effectively stopping his movements. "Don't mention hospitals, or doctors," she had to give him some last bits of advice before he put himself out on a limb. "They're called healers."

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. Grabbing Fran's hand they walked out onto the main street, which was eerily empty. All was quiet as their two friends disappeared around a corner.

The snap of twig behind them forced DG's spine straight, her heart jumping into her throat.

"Drop the weapon," the gravelly voice commanded.

Del grumbled beside her but obeyed. When she peered out of the corner of her eye she could see the irritation on his face at his own inattentiveness.

"Arms up," they both did as they were told. "Stand," again they complied. "Now turn slowly."

As she turned around her eyes fixed on a well defined jaw, dirty blonde curls and expressive eyes. She'd know that face anywhere. Jeb Cain.

Dang it!

Life, it seemed, was not without a sense of irony. Out of all the people in this vast world, she had to run into someone she knew. However, from the looks he was giving them he had yet to place her face. After all, they only saw each other a few times and from what she saw in the mirror of the compact she looked like hell. Maybe the Gods were still on her side.

"Names," he commanded.

DG tried to talk, even opened her mouth a few times but words failed her. It was one of her worst traits. When she got nervous her vocal cords froze. Luckily her friend didn't have that problem.

"The name's Del," he said gruffly, anger in his tone at having a gun pointed at them. "This here is Emily." She sighed inwardly. He remembered to use her false name and she wasn't sure how she felt about it, happy or agitated.

Jeb's eyes trailed from Del's face to her own, up to her scalp and over to Del's mangled arm which was raised high regardless of the pain. Slowly Jeb lowered the gun, holstering it at his side, and signaled for them to lower their hands.

Even before her arms had returned to her sides she felt Del's arm wrap once more around her waist, pulling her protectively against his hip.

"Sorry about that," Jeb said, "You can never be too careful." He smiled slightly but neither she nor Del returned the gesture. They were both too concerned over Fran and Robbie to placate their captor.

As if sensing their thoughts, "You're friends are fine," he stated confidently. "They're being questioned by my father."

Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn.

The Gods hated her, what other explanation could there be for this horrible set of circumstances. Wyatt Cain was there, in the first gosh-darn village to cross their path. Talk about cliché. And to top it all there was no doubt Cain would recognize her instantly. That is, if he saw her.

Even though she yearned for his presence just a few hours earlier, she found herself wishing to evade the man. There was still a chance she could get out of town without having to see him. One could hope, no matter how small the odds.

This astonishing twist of fate made her swoon, causing Del to pull her tighter into his side to keep her upright.

"Emily needs help," she heard Del say.

Great! Just what she needed, Cain to see her as a damsel in distress all over again.

Jeb nodded saying a curt "Follow me," as he gathered up the discarded shotgun.

"No," she heard her own voice declare only to have two sets of eyes swing around to focus on her face. "I think we should leave." There was a tremor in the words she prayed they overlooked. She would suffer through the pain until they reached the next town, it had to be better then facing him.

"Listen," Jeb began as he looked from one to the other. "I'm sorry I pulled my gun on you, but you need to see the healer." No, she would manage. "So does your friend."

Damn it all to hell.

He played the one card she would fall for easily. Del needed medical attention in a bad way. If his arm went untreated it could become horribly infected.

Muttering a staccato, "Fine," she watched Jeb nod politely before turning around to make his way into town.

Del held her up as they trailed after, not saying a word about her wish to move on, both of them occupying their time by taking in their surroundings. The buildings looked rather new, clean and sturdy, made of wood and metal. All windows and doors were only on the side of each structure, facing the main street. There were no back entrances, ones visible to the naked eye anyway, probably done as a security measure. The road was of hard, compact dirt with hoof prints scattered about.

As they moved down the street she saw him. Face stoic as ever, he was listening to Robbie who resembled Del at the moment with his arm holding Fran firmly about the waist. Other than the group of people surrounding her friends, five large men and two women, not another soul could be seen. There was not one other person on the road or looking out the windows of the homes flanking them.

Cain looked exactly the same, right down to his duster and fedora. Even his expression was identical to the one plaguing her dreams, haunting her while awake. It was the way he looked at her before he left her behind. Her heart twinged painfully in her chest at the sight and she cursed her body's response. Without warning, while she stared at his prominent profile, she realized that no matter how much time passed she would never be free of her desire to hold him close.

When his eyes lifted toward the new people entering town DG began to panic. The last thing she needed was for him to come barreling over thinking she was there to see him, thinking she was still pining away. Instinctively DG buried her face in Del's side, confident her bandaged head would keep her identity a secret for a few more moments especially at such a distance.

Soon they were climbing stairs and entering one of the buildings. The room was small, seven empty cots along the wall under the windows with two large cabinets encompassing the opposite one. A single desk sat at the end of the row where a young woman was seated.

"This is our infirmary," Jeb stated as the young woman rose, quickly making her way over to the trio. "Patty, these two need treatment." DG was convinced their appearance already made that quite clear.

Patty said nothing but ushered them down the aisle to the last cot. "Sweety, you lie down here," she said to DG who simply looked up at Del. "We have to set his arm but he'll be in the bed right next to you," she continued and DG locked eyes with the woman who was close to her own age. "I promise he won't go anywhere."

DG just nodded in response. Del helped her to sit on the bed, then shuffling a bit she was finally laying on her back. She released a long, drawn out sigh of contentment.

Grasping her hand in his good one, he sat down on the cot to her right. He smiled and she smiled back. She knew he would be dealing with a tremendous amount of pain in a few moments when they set his arm and she hated herself for taking some of his strength as her own. But she was desperate. Any instant she would hear his distinctive gait coming down the aisle to berate his former charge.

"Jeb, go get your father, Jasper and More," Patty was instructing. "We'll need all of you to get this arm back in place." DG winced. She heard footsteps retreating out of the building, a few moments later more footsteps entered.

Still holding Del's hand she turned toward the wall so he wouldn't see her face. She felt cowardly. Del tried to release her hand but she held on tighter.

Suddenly Patty was giving instructions. Telling Jasper to hold his shoulders down, More to do the same to his legs. Jeb was told to rest his weight on his chest and hips to keep them from twisting. Cain had to hold onto Del's arm on either side of his elbow while Patty would grasp below the break in order to snap the bone back in place.

DG felt Del squeeze her hand and while it was excruciating she did not flinch or draw her hand back, instead she squeezed just as hard.

She wanted to turn around, wanted to comfort him. And with only one last thought toward keeping her identity hidden she sat up, quickly leaning over the small space between their beds. Poking her head between Jeb and Jasper she took in his appearance. He didn't seem to be breathing. Wiping her free hand over his sweaty brow she placed a chaste kiss on his temple.

Leaning down she whispered in his ear, "Just keep your eyes on me."

If she could keep his attention on her and not what was going to happen… Well, hopefully it would lessen his current torment. She kept her hand on his forehead, trailing her fingers over his hairline, focusing all her energy on letting her light flow into him and was relieved to see him begin to breathe again.

A moment later a sickening crack echoed through the small space followed by the most horrific yell imaginable. His palm became sweaty and his grip slackened. She could feel the trembling of his body through their clasped hands. His eyes fluttered, fighting to remain conscious. "DG…" he began and she knew there was no hiding the truth now.

There was no flinching at the use of her real name. He wasn't to blame, and what good would it do to make him feel responsible for outing her, so to speak.

"I'm here," she responded, giving him another kiss on the temple. When his eyes closed she released a long, heavy sigh.

The two men on either side of her backed away and she was pretty sure she knew the reason. She was once face to face with an angry Tin Man, the same angry Tin Man, and it would make even the bravest person want to recoil.

DG did not dare raise her eyes. From her position she could clearly see the dark green duster of the man she was trying to avoid on the other side of the bed, his body stock still. Keeping her attention on her friend whose color was gradually returning to normal, she pretended he wasn't there, pretended he didn't recognize her.

All too soon her dream world was shattered as he bolted around the cot, grabbing her forcefully by the shoulders to drag her to her feet.

Anger was evident in the blue eyes that went almost black while she watched, powerless to extract herself from his grasp. Losing its traditional stoic quality, Cain's face now held concern in its features, even fear.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

AN: I'm a bit under the weather... send me a note to make me feel better!!