M7*M7*M7

The cabin finally came into view and Chris wasn't sure how he felt about that. This was where his plan would succeed or fail. If it worked, he'd leave here with his Vin, safe and sound and back to normal. If it didn't work – but Chris wouldn't let himself think about that.

He kept the headlights on to illuminate the little building and doorway, and he pulled on the handle to open his driver's side door. Vin studied the situation a minute, and then opened his own door. "Give y'hand?" he asked, when he saw Chris pulling the box of supplies out of the back seat.

"No thanks, I can get it. Don't want you hurting your back…here's the key though, if you'd unlock the door?"

"Yep." Vin gave the key a long glance, before opening the cabin door. "Them lamps come in handy." He said, motioning to the headlights. "They kerosene?"

"Halogen."

"Hunh?"

"Uh – it's like kerosene." Chris decided to go for an easy answer. He shoved the car door shut with his elbow and followed Vin into the cabin. He set the box on the floor and pulled out the Coleman lantern. He left the cabin door open.

"Ain't you got none a'them…them…" In the harsh beam of the headlights, Chris could see Vin making a vague motion with his hand.

"Lights? Electric lights?" Chris was surprised. "I thought they bothered your eyes." He primed the lantern, and then lit the mantles with the flint wheel.

"Well…" Vin shrugged. "A fella gets used to conveniences y'know…ain't right to just yank 'em away…s'pose y'ain't got a indoor privy here neither…"

"Are you this grumpy back in 1871?"

"Sometimes, I reckon I am…"

Chris heard the wistful tone. He stood up and set the lantern on top of the potbelly stove. He laid a quick, firm hand on Vin's shoulder as he walked past to shut off the headlights and bring in the rest of the gear. "Don't worry. You'll be back aggravating your friends before you know it." He wanted his Vin back aggravating their friends.

"What if I ain't?" Vin followed him a couple of feet out of the cabin. His breath was frost in the cold air. "What if I never get back? What if your Vin don't come back – or – what if he does come back? How far have y'thought this thing through?" Chris paused a moment, before reaching in to cut the lights. In the sudden darkness and moonlight, the snow glowed faintly blue, and the stars seemed to be impaling themselves on the bare trees.

"You tell me, what do you think will happen?"

Vin closed his eyes and took a deep deep breath. "Don't mean to sound ungrateful. I know y'done everything for me y'could think of. Still doin' it too. But I know you think I am 'your' Vin…and I know I ain't. How long you think you'd be able to put up with that? 'Cause I don't know how long I could take you lookin' at me, knowin' you're seeing somebody else…"

Quietly shutting the car door, Chris came around the front to lean against the hood. He folded his arms and kicked at the snow at his feet. "There's a lotta Vin Tanners out there. And that's just 'my' Vin Tanner. I've had to see him a lotta different ways, over the few years I've known him. If – if – you don't get back where you belong, and if my Vin don't come back…" Chris tried to picture that situation. He didn't like it, and he didn't want to face the possibility of it.

But – the possibility existed, didn't it?

"C'mon, let's get inside and put some coffee on…I think this might be a long conversation…"

M7*M7*M7

Nathan and Josiah went into the cabin and found Chris trying to get outside. "C'mon now Chris, sit down so I can get a look at you." They each grabbed an arm and urged Chris back to the bed.

"No, I have to go after him. He shouldn't be out there."

"Vin can take care of himself. You know that." Josiah said. They got Chris sitting on the edge of the bed. Nathan set his saddlebags on the table and started peeling off the makeshift bandage.

"No – he ain't Vin." Chris tried to stand and Josiah held him down. "He shouldn't be out there." Nathan and Josiah exchanged a look over Chris' head.

"You mean that skinny fella with the long hair, blue eyes, wearing your poncho, and riding Nathan's horse ain't Vin Tanner?" Josiah asked.

"He's Vin Tanner…" Chris started, trying to pick the pieces of story out of his spinning brain. "But he ain't our Vin. He's educated – went to a University. Wild dogs killed his Ma, and Nettie helped raise him. His father hanged himself when Vin was five. His Chris owns a horse ranch, and his Nathan is a doctor…"

Nathan kept nodding and murmuring encouragement, letting Chris spin his tale. The man wasn't disoriented – he was delusional. The longer they could keep him distracted, the longer they could keep him in the cabin.

"You got an angry looking knot on your head here Chris – any idea how it happened?"

"Was going out after the McGintys…McIntyres?" Chris pressed his hand against his temple. "The lawyer was the brother…Vin thinks that's who attacked him…"

"Okay, we're just going to lay you back here Chris…" The two men got Chris settled back onto the pillow.

"Was on the lookout for bullets, not rocks…he got bit by a bat y'know. A rabid bat."

"Who did? When?" Nathan asked, not trusting Chris' state that it was only a delusion. Rabies wasn't nothin' to fool with.

"Vin – that Vin. This Vin. Few years ago I guess. Said they got shots for it now…"His voice drifted off and he closed his eyes.

"Right…" Nathan shook his head and said to Josiah, "And it's Vin that needs lookin' after…"

M7*M7*M7

The little cabin stood huddled in the snow, on the edge of a stand of barren aspen trees. The blue glow of moonlight caught and twisted in the patchy curl of smoke rising from the chimney, and made distinct shadows through the narrow windows. Nothing else moved in the cold night.

The two men sat in hard chairs in front of the wood stove, far enough apart that they could see each other's faces clearly in the light from the lantern hanging off a peg on the wall, without needing to turn. The sound and smell of percolating coffee filled the single room, coming from the beat up graniteware coffee pot set on top of the stove.

"Reckon it's done?" Chris asked.

"Reckon it matters?" Vin answered.

"Not a coffee connoisseur, hunh?"

"If that means I take it with whiskey, 'yes'."

Chris shook his head as he reached to get the cups out of the box near his chair before standing up. "Even if I had some whiskey with me, I wouldn't give you any while you're on painkillers…" Along with the rest of the supplies, Mary had packed a couple of tin cups, a can of evaporated milk, and a muslin bag of biscuits.

"Whiskey's one a'the best pain-killer I know of." Vin accepted the bag from Chris and looked inside. "Them little bits a'chalk they give me can't be no pain-killer." He took out a biscuit and set the bag on his knee.

"You're not supposed to chew them y'know." Chris said.

"Why not?" Vin asked. He was perfectly serious. Really, Chris didn't know. He just always figured you swallowed them whole for a reason.

"They don't taste so bad if you swallow them without chewing."

"Hmm, have to remember that, 'cause they sure do taste bad." Vin handed over the bag of biscuits and took the offered cup. He sucked in a breath of pain and sat back very gingerly. "Don't work so good anyhow."

"Maybe you should take another one – been awhile since you had your last." Chris waited before taking his chair again, waited for Vin's answer. Tanner shook his head.

"Nothin' wrong with a little pain. Keeps a man heedful." He took a bite of biscuit. "Makes him thankful he ain't got worse." Chris took his chair then, and set the muslin bag into the box of supplies.

"That's not what Ezra says."

"Both Ezras…" They drank their coffee awhile, and Vin finished the biscuit and wiped his fingers on his trousers. "So – tell me. 'Bout all the Vin Tanners you know."

"Well…" Chris tried to drag the word out, wanting to give himself more time. "I know a Vin Tanner who is smart, funny, and outgoing. He'll take on all comers, not afraid of anything – or at least doesn't let on if he is." Vin leaned forward a little, listening intently.

"I also know one who is shy, and tries to keep to himself when there's a lot of strangers around. He keeps on alert though, even then, and not much gets past him. There's the one who won't admit much to something or someone hurting him, but he absolutely will not stand by if someone or something hurts one of his friends…" Chris trailed off and stared down into his coffee.

"There's also the Vin Tanner who I was just gettin' to know this past year, since this whole mess with the McGintys started." He took a sip of coffee and Vin prompted,

"What's he like?" Hanging onto every word.

"He's scared, determined, won't let on that he's frightened, but keeps a sharper eye on everything than he thinks I notices…" Chris took another sip of coffee and looked at Vin over the rim. "Think I know a couple of those Vin Tanners…"

"He's a good man then?" Vin missed or ignored the last sentence.

"Vin Tanner is one of the best men I know."

"Your Vin Tanner." Vin said, sounding a little disappointed.

"Both Vin Tanners." Chris answered him firmly. Vin still missed or ignored it.

"What if he don't come back?" and Chris heard the unspoken question – 'what'll happen to me?'

What would happen to this Vin, if his Vin didn't 'come back'? A few ideas, most of them unpleasant, came to mind. Vin would never be able to testify against the McGintys in this state. There was enough circumstantial evidence to convict them, that was no problem. But if word got out about why Vin wasn't testifying…that's what worried Chris the most. Would Vin be sent back to the psych hospital? Given medications meant to subdue his disorientation, set upon by counselors and psychiatrists bent on subtly but utterly flaying his soul. Would Vin be able to survive that imprisonment again?

Or – if he wasn't re-committed, would "Old West" Vin be able to survive the 21st Century? Chris could shield him from a lot if Vin stayed on the ranch, or maybe he could live here in the cabin…but then Chris mentally berated himself. One way or the other – it seemed Vin would be locked away.

"Keepin' me awake, you're thinking so loud over there…" Vin's soft chide brought Chris back to the moment at hand. "Can't be good."

"I don't know…" Chris didn't want to share his grim thoughts. "If my Vin doesn't come back – I'll miss him. He's a good friend, and he's a lotta fun. I guess we helped each other through some of the worst times in both our lives, and I depend on him for a lot. If he doesn't come back…" and Chris tried to push the vision of hospitals, locked doors, and controlled medications out of his mind. "I'll offer you the same deal I offered him: a good job, a decent place to live, more friends than you can probably stand – and a permanent place in my life."

"Always be a place for me by your fire, hunh?" Vin didn't sound like he was being sarcastic or disbelieving.

"Yes." Chris answered firmly. "If I had more than that, I'd give it."

"More?" Now Vin sounded surprised. "Hell Chris – what more is there than that? A home and a family – that's more'n I ever had before, not 'til I met my Chris. I figure a man's gotta be pretty well blessed to have it offered to him twice." Chris nodded, but couldn't answer that.

"He must be a pretty good man – your Chris."

"He is – he surely is." Vin's eyes looked at something faraway for a moment, then cleared as he looked at Chris. "Ain't sayin' he ain't human as the next, 'n we done had our disagreements… But – he trusts me, and that ain't something I ever come by easy." Vin swirled his coffee cup. "He's the first man I'se ever afraid to disappoint. And it's still a mighty short list."

M7*M7*M7