Nettie carried a basket of food up to the clinic. She found Vin on his hands and knees, reaching to pull something out from under the bed. "Ha! Got it!" he proclaimed, coming up with a crumpled piece of paper.

"Vin Tanner - what are you doin'?"

"It's my will - Chris helped me write it yesterday - day before maybe..." the days still ran together. "Ain't done yet though...I ain't thought what to leave you..." He pushed himself off the floor and sat on the bed to smooth the paper out on his knee.

"Honey, you don't have to leave me a thing. With all that you've done for me, you don't owe me anything." She set the basket on the table and stood before him.

"Wouldn't y'want somethin' to remember me?" Vin asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

"Of course I would honey. I didn't mean it to sound that way. " She sat on the bed next to him, but didn't touch him. "Just don't want you thinkin' you have to..." She wondered why the paper had been wadded up.

"You'd take the money, wouldn't you Nettie? If I was to tell you - ask you to take me back to Tascosa for the reward if I was dead, you'd do it, wouldn't you?"

Nettie gave him a level look.

"Well now Vin, I can't say as that would be something it would cheer me especially to do."

. Vin made a noise of exasperation. "Never knew s'many people'd throw away five hundred dollars. I'd be dead, what'd it matter whether I'se laid out in Tascosa or this town. Dead's dead, don't' y'all understand that?"

"No boy, dead ain't dead." The way he was belittling himself made her angry. "It matters to a lotta folks where their loved ones lie. I'm glad I got my man nearby, means something to me..." Nettie glanced at the partially open door and decided to try another tack. "Would you bring any a'your friends back for the bounty?"

"Bounty huntin's what I used to do." he reminded her bitterly.

"That don't answer my question Vin. If Chris was wanted, and he died, would you swap him for five hundred dollars?" she asked. Vin took awhile to answer, thought about lying, but finally shook his head. "And why not?"

"...'cause...he should be buried with his family..."

"That the only reason?"

"No...he deserves better than that..." the words slowly dragged out of Vin.

"That's right. Deserves better than to be hauled hundreds of miles on the back of a pack horse, swelling and rotting in the hot sun, for nothin' more'n a handful of money..."

Nettie's words brought Vin's visions back, the buffalo dead and rotting, blood clinging to his hands, swallowing him into the sand. He stood abruptly to be away from her, afraid he was going to be sick, and a new vision erupted in his mind - a body, nothing more than the rotted trunk of a man, half-buried in sand, chest cavity stuffed full of paper money. His hands gripped the edge of the table to keep steady and upright and he closed his eyes and tried to summon that unknown thing at the edge of his mind that would chase the swarm of pain and guilt away.

But it didn't come.

"It's a lotta money." he tried one more time. He spoke each word separately. "Folks could use that money. Town could use it. If I'm dead, what difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference Vin. .." the low gravel of Larabee's voice from the doorway spun Vin where he stood. How long had he been there? "You think I'd want to profit from your death?"

Vin didn't know where to turn his eyes. He could stare down Larabee's anger, but compassion and concern undid him. He stared at the floor.

"I think I'd want some good to come outta my dying. Ain't been worth much to folks while I'se alive, let me be worth something when I'm dead."

"Ain't been worth much?" Nettie said, surprised. "All you done for folks in this town...how can you think you ain't worth much?" But Vin couldn't answer her. What she was saying only proved that it was his gun and deadly accuracy that people valued. Not him.

Chris had an idea that this conversation would go in circles if he let it.

"Nettie -" he said lightly. She turned to him, and he silently motioned with his head, asking her for some time with Vin alone. She nodded and stood up, and left the clinic without a word. Chris shut the door behind her.

"She don't understand..." Vin said. He hadn't lifted his eyes from the floor.

"No, she doesn't." Chris agreed, thinking that Vin didn't understand either. What had he been thinking earlier? That Vin didn't need his monsters chased away? Well, maybe he'd been wrong about that. He took an apple out of the basket of food on the table next to Vin, and set himself in the familiar chair. "Guess I don't understand either Vin. " Chris looked the apple over, but didn't take a bite out of it. "Maybe you'd explain it to me."

"Explain what?"

Chris took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Ever since you seen them orphans with the O'Briens, it's like something has been carving pieces out of your soul Vin. I know you don't hate them kids, I know you know you're worth more than the bounty on your head. You been sick, and dreaming of being a kid again and getting beaten by your stepparents. You were gettin' better till I took you out overnight, then that wall closed you right up again and you were hollerin' at your Ma. Now you're arguin' with Nettie because she won't agree that all you're worth is five hundred dollars." He stopped speaking until Vin raised his eyes to look at him. "Help me understand where we're headed with all of this..."

It took a long minute of neither of them speaking, then Vin pulled the other chair another foot away from Chris and sat down in it.

"I don't know."

Well, Chris had been expecting that. He knew Vin probably didn't have a clue where they were headed, but he wanted to force him to look at all that had been going on, and choose for himself where it would take him. The monsters under the bed were his own memories and fears, and only Vin could chase them away.

"Where are you now?" When you're lost, the first thing to do is get your bearings.

"Here..." It wasn't meant or said sarcastically. Just the most obvious answer. "At Nathan's, in town, with you..." Vin's mind worked a little harder, trying to further define his answer. "I been sick, so I'm at the clinic here in town where I live, and I'm sittin' with a friend..."

"And where d'you suppose you're headed?" You get your bearings, then you choose your direction.

"Don't know Chris...bein' sick, havin' all them memories ambush me, makin' me think of things, remember things I thought I'd done away with..."

"That's where you been Vin, what about where you're headed?"

Vin shook his head. "Where I been and where I'se headed seems like the same place most a' the time. Makin' my way, tryin' t'survive...where you reckon you're headed Chris? If you was to look ahead, ten or twelve years from now - where you reckon you'll be?" The sudden shift in conversation took Chris by surprise. "Y'ever thought about it?"

"Reckon I thought about it..." Chris' eyes narrowed, recalling the various bits of hopes and wishes from his mind. "Guess I hope to be married again...a yardful of kids... workin' the ranch again..." The bits and pieces formed themselves into an actual vision. "Havin' a picnic...got all the hay into the barn..." He saw himself surrounded by family. "You still can't play that harmonica..."

"I'm there?" Vin was plainly astonished to be included.

"You're there..." Chris said, his sight still focused on his future. "Teachin' my youngest Kiowa curse words that she'll probably get more use out of than..."

"I'm there?" Vin asked again, and his voice brought Chris back to the present. He saw the look on Vin's face - some need, some fear, clearly answered.

"Where the hell else y'gonna be?" Chris demanded.

"I don't know...never put much thought into it...just figured..." His voice and his thoughts ground to a halt. "...reckon there's worse things I could teach your younguns..."

"Yeah, like playin' a harmonica..." Chris said, and a smile lit across Vin's face briefly.

"Hardly anybody ever wanted me around..." Vin said, deadly serious again. "Not unless I could do somethin' for 'em. Nobody ever wanted me just 'cause it was me. There was never anywhere I ever could just stand back and say I belonged there. Never anywhere that seemed to want me to belong."

The implications of that last statement hit Chris hard.

"Vin -" he almost asked, but did he really want to know what lay behind that casual remark? He decided to forgo the past and push on to the future. "There'll always be a place for you at my fire...and for one reason only - you're my friend."

He kept his voice low, almost afraid of someone overhearing him. Words didn't count as much to him as actions, but this time it seemed the words needed to be said so that the actions would be clear. "You will always belong with me. You understand that?"

Clearly not believing, though clearly desperate to believe, Vin nodded.

Things got very quiet in Nathan's clinic after Chris spoke. Vin stared at his hands in his lap a few moments, feeling his face burn hot and red. He didn't want to believe Chris, didn't want to not believe him, and couldn't find any words to say to him. The silence grew embarrassing and overwhelming.

Finally Chris said: "Here..." and Vin looked up in time to catch the apple Chris tossed at him, as he stood up to fish himself another one out of Nettie's basket.

"Thanks..." Grateful for something to do, Vin took a bite. "Glad the rain finally stopped." he said, after he chewed as long as he could. It sounded almost like a question. But it was something to say.

"Yeah...street's so muddy y'can hardly get through it."

"Yosemite'll have a lotta work, horseshoes being pulled off n'such."

"Reckon he will." Chris agreed.

Something danced inside Vin, wanting to be said and not knowing how to say it. Y'owe somebody, y'watch their back, that's how he usually dealt with it. Don't tie everything down in a lotta words that you can't take back or spruce up later. Words didn't matter - words couldn't matter if what you wanted was to not get staked out on 'em.

"Seems like it's gettin' colder out too..." he offered, taking another bite of apple.

"Yep, weather's turnin'."

Still, the calm panic of a gunfight was the last place a fella'd be thinkin' you saved his hide 'cause he once made a place for you in his life. That was a different kinda owin' than owin' him your life.

But Vin had no words to say thank you for caring, thank you for just bein' there, when anybody else coulda been but only you filled the emptiness. How d'you tell anybody, much less Larabee, that he made the swarm of bitter memories and regrets stop?

Chris watched Vin, who sat staring at the half-eaten apple in his hand. He could see a storm raging across Vin's features and thought that now, after all they'd been through in the past week, maybe now he could bring himself to talk to Vin.

"Keepin' me awake, you're thinkin' so loud over there..." Chris tried, and was surprised to see tears in Vin's eyes as he raised his head.

"I'se always alone." Vin said, unexpectedly. "Spent my life alone, makin' sure nobody got close. Just reckon'd it'd always be that way. Couldn't see it bein' no different." He lowered his head briefly, to wipe at his eyes. "Y'know what it's like? Goin' years without nobody touchin' you, lessen y'paid 'em? What it's like when don't nobody want t'be near you, 'cause they's afraid a'you, or you're too dirty, or y'can't make the words t'say what y'want and won't nobody take the time to listen?"

Chris wanted to look away, he couldn't bear the pain in Vin's eyes. But he kept his eyes level. Wherever Vin was headed with this, Larabee would go there with him.

"Always been alone, even when I'se with them other buffalo hunters, or the Indians. Just always was never really part of 'em. I wanted t'be. There's times I tried so hard to fit in with 'em, fit in with anybody just so's I could say I belonged somewhere. When I'se still a youngun, I'd see families in town, maybe one of 'em would talk to me, or give me a penny for watchin' their things while they's in the general store, and I'd always just figure this was it. This was the family that'd come take me home with 'em. These'd be the brothers I always wanted, that'd be the Pa who'd help me grow up to be a man just like him. They'd be the people finally would...love me..."

Vin's voice caught on the last words, embarrassed to be saying them. Tears slid down his face and he bent his head again to scrub them away.

"But it never was..." He coughed a little. Chris started to respond, but Vin cut him off. "Stopped tryin' finally, tryin' to belong somewheres, anywheres. Went from tryin' to belong so bad, t'tryin' so hard to keep everybody away. Even so..."

It got harder for Vin to talk, and harder for Chris to listen to the anguish.

"When I saw them orphans with the O'Briens Chris -" he raised his eyes again to find Chris'. "- I just wanted so bad -- just thinkin' - stupid idea anyway - but just thinkin' that somehow if I'se to be a little 'un again, Miz O'Brien'd take me in and I'd have a family and a place I belonged and folks that'd be not afraid to touch me..."

He curled his fists white knuckled into his lap and stared determinedly at them, already regretting pouring his heart out to his friend. But he went on.

"Y'know what it's like? Being a youngun willin' to just about sell yourself to someone - hell, I don't mean that way." He suddenly realized what he'd said. "I didn't - I'd never...dammit..." he softly cursed his ignorance of words.

"Vin -" Chris leaned forward then, to reach across the distance and put his hand on Vin's arm. "-I know what you mean-" but Vin pulled away.

"Y'say I belong with you, but I don't know how to believe you." Vin wouldn't meet Chris' eyes now. "Any place I ever felt like I mighta belonged always just got torn away from me. If I believe you now and I lose it Chris - I can live without it, but I can't lose it, not again..."

Many things ran through Chris' mind - please God, let Josiah walk in now, he'd know what to say. Please don't let Nathan walk in, he'll kill me for gettin' Vin upset. Please -

"Vin?" and Chris only then realized the mistake he'd made out at the campsite. He waited till by the slightest shuddering motion, he could tell that Vin was paying attention to him. "I'm sorry - it was me."

"What was you?" Vin lifted his head only enough to ask the question. He wished again that he had his hat to pull down over his eyes, or his jacket so he could push his hands into the pockets, and just hide.

"I was holdin' you Vin. When you was sick..."

"What?" clearly confused, Vin stared at Larabee and waited for him to explain. But it was hard for Chris to explain it to him. He'd rather kept it hid - for Vin's sake, but for his own as well.

"You were sick, didn't know what else to do." And Chris found he couldn't meet Vin's startled gaze. "Seemed like you were thinkin' a'leaving. Was the only way I could think to keep you here..."

And God - there it was.

Vin took a breath and intended to say something, but the puzzlement was evident across his face and words - even thoughts - failed him entirely. The visions crowded him - not of the dead and dying that stormed his dreams to drag him down to hell - but of the warm strength and steady heartbeat that had kept him here, had kept him safe. But making the comforting safety of his memory fit the deadly gunslinger in front of him was gonna take some time.

Just when Vin thought he'd be able to say at least a word, Buck opened the door and came into the clinic.

"Hey Chris, got the telegram back..." he noticed but didn't remark when Vin jumped out his chair, letting the apple fall to the floor, and turned away from them to rinse his face with water from the basin.

"What'd y'hear?" Chris asked, keeping one eye on Vin.

"Fella's name is..." Buck held the telegram up to make the words out again. "Ellis...P-U-C-H? Puk? "

"Puke?" Vin turned around, dragging a sleeve over his eyes to clear the water. "You got Ellis Puch? Who's he sayin' he killed now?"

"You heard of him?" It wouldn't surprise Chris.

"Heard of him? Hell - I spent eight days and five dollars draggin' his worthless carcass up to Leadville, just to find out he never killed nobody. Only thing he ever killed was a bottle a'whiskey and a good story...he ain't here is he?" Vin sniffled just once and wiped a little more water out of the corner of his eye. "Fool'll tell you he killed everybody from President Lincoln to President Lee. Hell, Lee weren't even dead when he said it..." Vin paced the room to the bed to be away from them.

"So, if this here fella claims he killed somebody in this town, we ought not to believe him?" Buck asked Vin's back.

"Not less y'want to waste your time for no good reason. Y'got him in jail? Mise well let him go. Lessen it's a crime to bore good folk to distraction..." Vin dropped his voice to be speaking to himself. "...gotta get my hat and coat..." He looked around himself, wanting to be away, wanting to have time to think.

"No, he's in Ute City..." Buck said and sighed. "Reckon I'll check with Mary and Nathan first if this killin' sounds familiar, just in case. Then wire back the Sheriff, thanks but no thanks..." He turned to leave the clinic, with a look at Chris and a nod of his head to Vin still turned away, that meant he knew something was going on between the two and Chris should look to it.

Chris shook his head that he understood and would do his best, and he shut the door after Buck.

"I'll get your gear for you Vin, you know what Nathan would say if he found you wanderin' around 'fore he said you could."

"Pfff - know it? I'm surprised I ain't been sayin' it in my sleep..." Vin didn't want to turn around, didn't want to face Chris. But he couldn't hardly avoid it when Chris came up beside him.

"You be here when I get back..." Chris said, his voice low with concern and threat.

"Nowhere I got a mind t'be headed to..." Vin allowed.

"All right then..." and Chris walked away. He was nearly out the door and about to shut it behind him when Vin called out:

"Chris - you make sure my door is locked when you leave?"

"You bet." Chris said, giving Vin the ability to say that hardest word off all. He met Chris' eyes and nodded once.

"Thanks."

M7*M7*M7

Buck crossed the street back to the clinic to let Chris know he'd sent the telegram back to Colorado. He looked up and saw Vin sitting at the top of Nathan's stairs. He was leaning his head against the railing, and his eyes were closed. Buck walked over and climbed the steps up to him.

"Hey Pard - everything okay?"

"Yeah." Vin didn't - and wouldn't - elaborate. He rubbed his eyes and rolled his shoulders.

"You and Chris get everything squared away?" Buck asked. Vin looked surprised then puzzled. Then he looked down the street toward the boarding house.

"Chris tells you everything, don't he?"

Buck sat down next to Vin.

"'Tell'? No, Chris don't never 'tell' me anything. Gotta drag everything out of him, same as you most times...two pods guarding the same pea..." He said it good-naturedly and Vin had to smile at the comparison. Still, he changed the subject.

"Strange afternoon, ain't it? Warm wind. Thought it was getting kinda late for that."

"Still ain't warm enough you ought to be sitting out here Vin. You know what Nathan would say if he caught you out here."

"Yeah, I know." Then a silliness took Vin and he drew a breath and did his best to mimic Nathan. "I done told you, you want to get better, you gotta stay in that bed. What good is all my helping you men if you don't do what you're told...?"

"Or JD..." Buck imitated the fast pace of their friend's concern. "Vin - what're you doing out here? You ain't supposed to be out here. You know Nathan told you to stay in bed. You gotta get back in there in that bed before he finds out. You know you're just gonna get sicker you stay out here..."

Both men laughed so hard, Buck could hardly take the breath he needed.

"Or - or - wait - Josiah..." He solemnly put a hand on Vin's shoulder "Son, there's times in life we all got to do what we don't want to." He had the deep tone down pretty well. "If you trust Nathan with your life in a gunfight, you have to trust him now when you've had quinsy."

They both laughed even harder and Vin put his hand on Buck's arm to steady himself.

"How 'bout Ezra? Aw hell, I don't even know enough letters to put one of his words together." But he took a moment to think of something. "Now Mr. Tanner, I feel I must agree with our..." The word took some work but he remembered it. "Our c-o-m-p-a-t-r-i-o-t-s in their...their sizing up of your..."

Buck supplied the words. "Pitiable perdicament..."

"Yep, them's those five dollar words." Vin wiped his eyes and the best thought of all came to him. "No - wait - wait..." He could hardly talk for laughing. "I've got it - Chris..." and he folded his arms and struck a stern face at Buck. He could only hold it a moment before he couldn't stand it and they laughed themselves silly again. Buck laughed so hard he forgot it was Vin and not JD sitting next to him and he put his arm around him.

"Oh - that was a good one. You looked so much like him you scared me..." Buck did the face and they laughed even harder. People passing by thought they'd been drinking. Vin didn't realize for a moment that Buck was touching him, that his arm was around him, till he felt warmer and his tracker's brain did a quick search for the reason. When he saw what it was he looked down at the hand that rested on his shoulder. He felt warmth that was more than just physical from being held. His laughter died down as he contemplated it, till that hand nudged him and Buck warned:

"Hey Pard, look - must be a mirror hunh?"

And Vin looked down into the exact expression he'd just been mimicking. Hearing the laughter, Chris had come back to the bottom of the stairs, and stood with his arms crossed, gazing at them intently.

"You boys having a good time up there?" His eyes and his concern for Vin had immediately taken in that Buck had his arm around him, and that Vin didn't seem to mind.

"Hey Chris! We was just talking about you!" Vin called down, and it broke the two of them into more laughter that they couldn't control. Chris had to keep from laughing himself when Vin bent almost double. Whatever Buck was doing, Chris hoped he could keep it up. He turned to go, to not break the spell of whatever set them off. He didn't turn even when he heard Buck call:

"Chris - wait - Vin's got something he wants to show you!"

He heard their laughter halfway back to the boardinghouse.

M7*M7*M7

Vin stood outside of the jail, waiting for Chris. He'd been inside awhile too, but he wanted the wind and the dust and the horizon. Nathan had pronounced him recovered - just recovered - and he and Chris were walking through town, gathering up some things for their first reading lesson. Chris was inside now with JD, going through Wanted Posters, picking out the ones it'd be easiest to start with. The box at Vin's feet held a large piece of slate and a hunk of chalk, a primer, pen and ink, and a bundle of writing paper.

"AND THEN WE'RE GOIN' FISHIN' RIGHT PA?"

Too far away to hear any answer, Vin's back stiffened to hear Bart O'Brien coming up behind him. He intended to duck back into the jail to preserve his hearing, but Chris came out then with a sheaf of posters.

"Uh oh." Chris said, looking behind Vin.

"I know, I heard. Hell, I bet they hear him in Mexico...can't we go back inside?"

"Too late." Chris told him, and they both turned. Mr. O'Brien came down the boardwalk, leading Bart by the hand. In the other hand, he carried a bag of peppermint sticks. Whatever he was saying, they couldn't hear, but Bart was unmistakable.

"OKAY PA...I WILL...'CAUSE IT'D SCARE THE FISH, RIGHT PA?" Then his eyes lit on Vin. "HEY!" and Vin took a step back to be behind Chris.

"Mr. O'Brien." Chris greeted him. "How are you? It's good to see Bart up and around again."

"I WAS SICK AND WE'RE GOIN' FISHIN' AN' PA SAYS I HAVE T'BE QUIET OR ELSE I'LL SCARE THE FISH AN'-" and Mr. O'Brien turned to his son with a finger to his lips.

"Shhh..."

Rather than being shamed, Bart grinned at his father and skipped where he stood, never letting go of his hand.

"Little fella had us worried, for a lotta reasons. Good to have him with us now..." Mr. O'Brien said, then looked to Vin. "Good to still have you with us too, son. Sure were a caution there for awhile." Vin nodded once, and kept his eyes to the boardwalk at his feet. But Mr. O'Brien's next remark made him look up.

"You learnin' your letters?" he asked, nodding at the box.

"Yessir." Vin told him, too dismayed that he'd been found out to do anything but tell the truth. Mr. O'Brien nodded again.

"Good, glad t'see it. A man oughtta always be lookin' t'better himself. My Annie started teaching me soon's we were hitched." He let go of Bart's hand long enough to offer Vin a peppermint stick. "Went by the churchyard afore, that your Mama out there?"

"Yessir." Vin said again. He took the candy and held it tightly in his fist.

"And your Pa?"

"He's gone too..."

"No son, they ain't gone." Mr. O'Brien said gently as he took Bart's hand again. "They're only gone ahead.." He looked around the busy street. "Y'ever get tired a' this town livin' son, you come out to the farm. Always room for one more. We'd be proud t'have you." With one more nod to both men, he set off with Bart.

Vin turned to watch him go, shock evident on his face. He unconsciously held the peppermint stick to his chest.

"YOU KNOW EVERTHIN', DONTCHA PA?" Bart started up again.

"Well, almost everything." Mr. O'Brien allowed.

"AN' YOU LOVE ME, DONTCHA PA?"

"You bet I do."

Chris let Vin ponder Mr. O'Brien's words a few minutes, till they were out of eyesight, and Bart was out of earshot.

"Ready to get started?" he finally asked. Vin nodded, absently at first, then he bent to pick up the box, keeping the candy safe in his hand. "We'll see how much I know..." Chris said.

"You know everything - dontcha Chris?" Vin mimicked Bart. Chris smiled, and laid his hand on Vin's shoulder, answering the question that would never be asked.

"You bet I do..."

THE END!!!