Hello, readers! Hoping all of you are staying well. We have a new chapter for your reading pleasure. The story is approaching the conclusion, but there is still much left to tell in this story and we sincerely appreciate those who join us on this journey. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 25

Jamie shifted his weight from his toes to his heels, standing just a few feet away from the doorway of the guest bedroom where Griff was recuperating. He peeked his head into the doorway and discovered Griff was sleeping, though it didn't look to be a restful sleep. Before he realized what he was doing, Jamie gravitated towards the bed.

Griff's slumber was riddled with nightmares, some of which were those he had while he was in prison. A recurring scene of him being held by a group of inmates haunted him. His arms were restrained behind him and the toothy, cruel grin of Gabe Toliver took place of an inmate, floated in front of him. "You're just like me, King."

"I'm nothing like you, Gabe!" Griff heard himself growl. Gabe drew closer, pulled back his fist and shot it forward right into Griff's face.

"NO!" Griff screamed and struggled to free himself from his tormentors. His flailing arms did become free, the punch never truly landed on Gabe, but he did hear a cry of pain and he distinctly felt his fist had connected with something.

When he opened his steel blue eyes, Gabe's face had disappeared to be replaced with Jamie, who had fallen back into the chair by the bedside, clutching his jaw. A look of fear in his eyes froze Griff, who had bolted upright in a tangle of sheets.

"Griff!" Jamie cried out. "Stop, it's me!"

Griff couldn't move. What had he done? He looked down at his right hand which shook as he turned it over revealing the bruises and healing cuts over his knuckles.

"Jamie…" he whispered brokenly, so embarrassed by his actions that he would have run out of the room if he were physically capable of doing so. "Oh, God, I…" As Griff's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Jamie rubbing at his already-bruised jaw and staring at Griff nervously. He was familiar enough with nightmares to realize that he had not hit Gabe, but Jamie.

The words, 'I'm sorry,' were on the tip of Griff's tongue, along with, 'I didn't mean it,' and 'Are you okay?' Instead of saying any of those phrases, though, Griff squelched his feelings of regret and embarrassment, taking on a persona that had comforted him during his many hard days in prison. "What are you doing here?" Griff growled in an accusatory tone.

Jamie scampered to his feet, unprepared for Griff's question. "I… Uh…"

"Get out," Griff ordered in a low, menacing voice. He wanted to distance himself from Jamie in any way he knew how. His request reverberated through the room. "Get out!"

Hurt and confused by Griff's outburst more so than the punch itself, Jamie dashed out the door and down the hallway until he bumped into his father who had walked out of his room.

"Jamie?" Ben gasped. "What's the matter? Why are you out of bed?"

Keeping his head bowed, Jamie mumbled, "Nothing. Just had a bad dream is all."

Ben wasn't sure what to make of his son who had shrugged away from him. Looking past Jamie, he noticed the door of the guest room where Griff was staying was ajar.

Making a mental note to check in on Jamie later on, Ben could only watch as the teen slunk into his room and closed the door.

He glanced into Griff's room and heard soft snoring coming from the bed. Rather than risk waking up Griff, Ben stepped lightly and left the healing twenty year old alone.

Too exhausted to resist the drug coursing through his system, Griff almost instantly fell back to sleep as soon as Jamie had exited the room. This is why I didn't want that stuff in the first place, was his last thought as he felt himself succumb to the morphine that twisted Griff's memories and emotions to produce the nightmares that unnerved him.

The next morning, Jamie was reading one of his favorite dime novels on the couch, but try as he might, he could not get past page two. He kept playing last night over and over again in his mind, wondering how he could have made such a mess of everything.

Closing the thin paperback, Jamie was about to place it on the bookshelf when his eyes landed on a bare spot on the bottom shelf where the copy of Moby Dick once resided. It was as if there were no where or nothing in the house that didn't remind him of the Tolivers. Sighing, he tossed his novel on the couch and ran out to the barn. Even though he was not allowed to ride a horse for a few more days, just to make sure his head was completely healed, Jamie figured that he could at least still take comfort in seeing and spending a little time with his horse, Fly. The chestnut horse was just about the only living beings who did not pressure him to talk about his feelings or ask him for the millionth time if he were feeling okay.

Deputy Clem Foster looked up from the paperwork on his desk and greeted his visitor. "Howdy, Ben. What brings you by?"

Ben removed his hat and closed the door behind him. "Clem."

Clem stood up and offered Ben some coffee.

"I'm not staying long," Ben politely declined. "I'm here to see Billy."

"Oh. Well, I must say that is a surprise," Clem replied, puzzled by Ben's request. After everything the Tolivers had put his family through, he would have thought the only time and place Ben would want to see any of them again would be in the courtroom.

"I don't see why that would be," Ben shrugged.

"Never mind," Clem brushed off, grabbing the keys from the hook on the wall and leading Ben to the jail house at the back of the office.

When Ben entered the room, he was met by the sound of Gabe Toliver's sinister laugh and his drawl.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't Mr. Cartwright come here to visit!" he jeered. "I say, Billy, wake up, boy! It's your friend, Mr. Cartwright!"

Clem approached Gabe's cell. "Shut up! I don't wanna hear another sound out of you!"

"Whatchya gonna do, Mr. Deputy? Beat me through the bars?" Gabe mocked.

"I mean it!" Clem growled. He was at wits' end with his prisoner. Even with his right eye swollen shut and his face black and blue, the man still had it in him to be as disruptive as possible, Clem thought.

Ben placed a hand on Clem's arm and said. "It's alright, Clem. Would you mind giving me a few minutes with Billy alone?"

"Alone? No, I can't leave you al…"

"Please, Clem."

Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out in a gush, Clem reluctantly nodded. "Alright. Ten minutes, tops, that's it." Unlocking the door to Billy's cell, he allowed Ben inside before locking it again and leaving the room.

"How's that son of yours? The one that got a hole in him?" Gabe taunted from the next cell. "He bleed out yet?"

Ben ignored Gabe and sat on the bed on the opposite side of the small cell to Billy, who was lying on his side facing the wall. "Billy? I'd like to talk to you."

"What do ya want?" Billy asked sullenly, not moving from his position. "Making sure I didn't bust out when you wasn't looking?"

"No, that didn't cross my mind at all. I've arranged for a lawyer to come and see you in a few days. He's going to represent you at your trial," Ben explained. "Since Judge Raynor is not going to be here for at least a couple of weeks, it'll give us time to introduce you to Harry Dobson to prepare for your case," Ben explained slowly. "He's a friend of mine, and a damn fine defense attorney."

Billy showed no reaction that he was listening but Ben, who all too accustomed with Griff's own attitude wasn't planning on giving up any time soon.

In the opposite cell, a cruel laugh broke out. "A lawyer? A big shot attorney! Oh it's gonna take more than that!"

"Billy, I would truly like to help if you'll let me," Ben said gently. "You just let Sheriff Coffee or Deputy Foster know when you're ready." He started to rise to his feet when Billy turned over to face him for the first time.

"Wait!" Billy called out, shifting himself into a seated position with his feet on the floor. "Why are you doing this? All this trouble? Helping me, I mean?"

Ben smiled warmly. "Because you deserve a second chance."

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright, but I don't want you to waste your time and money on me," Billy replied sadly.

"Oh, I hardly would call it a waste. Don't you want a second chance?" Ben queried.

"Yes, but not if it's behind bars. You see," Billy said, raising his eyebrows. "I don't intend on going to jail."

Ben's smile faded away to be replaced with an expression of concern. "If you're talking about escaping, I would strongly advise against it. Please, Billy, don't make such a foolish mistake."

Billy scoffed, bitterly. "Your ranch hand, Griff? I don't wanna end up like him, or worse."

Gabe let out his biggest guffaw yet. "Yeah, I wouldn't wanna end up gutted like him, either! Tell me, how is he doin', Cartwright? He bleed out all over your rug like a stuck pig? I know I buried my knife into him! Felt all that blood gushing right outta him. Yes, Sirrie, I did!"

Ben put his hands on his hips, closed his eyes and drew a big breath of stale air. "Don't listen to him," he finally said when he opened his eyes again.

Billy wasn't sure if Mr. Cartwright was talking to him or to his own self but he nodded and listened to what the older man had to say.

Ben kept his voice low, not wanting to give Gabe the satisfaction of hearing his next words. "Son, I want you to understand something. You and Griff are two different people. It wasn't prison that shaped his fears. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you've always had your brother Butch to turn to, am I right?"

Billy nodded, curiously and respectfully listening. "Yeah, that's right. We were always there for each other."

"You see, Griff never had anyone in his family to turn to or look up to. At least not since his mother died when he was a small boy. He lived every day of his life fearing his step-father's shadow until one day when he was old enough, strong enough, and brave enough, he did the one thing he thought would end the terror. But it didn't work out the way he had intended. He almost killed his step-father and earned himself a lengthy prison sentence because nobody would fight to defend him." Ben grimaced. "And so while he served his time in jail, he had nothing to cling on to outside of those iron bars to help him get through each day that passed. There was no hope, no dreams, nothing. He began to feel like he belonged there. Like he was a part of that prison. What I'm trying to say is, you have hope and people who will be here to help you start a new life when you get out. That will make all the difference and give you the strength and power that Griff didn't have," Ben explained.

"I don't have anyone left now that Butch is gone!" Billy said in anguish.

"Oh my heart bleeds for you, Billy!" Gabe wailed then threw himself up against the bars and growled, "And what about me, huh? You gonna leave me here to rot? Or to hang? And what about Cole? Oh, you are going to pay for that one! Mark my words."

Ben clenched his fists as he tried his best to block out Gabe's threats.

Billy jumped to his feet and shouted, "Shut-up, Gabe! Cole had it coming!"

"Did he now?" Gabe's voice was low and threatening. "You just wait. You'll be getting yours soon, boy."

Ben pulled Billy away from the bars and stood between him and his view of Gabe.

"That's where you're wrong. You have me and my sons and even Griff who will be here for you, I promise you that."

"HE AIN'T GOT NO ONE, CARTWRIGHT, SO DON'T YOU LIE TO HIM!" Gabe roared, gripping the bars and shaking them violently. "YOU THINK THESE BARS CAN HOLD ME? AIN'T NO BARS THAT CAN HOLD ME!"

Clem burst through the door after hearing Gabe's hollering. "Alright, that's enough! Sorry, Ben, I think you better leave." he proceeded to unlock Billy's cell.

Billy reached out his hand and gripped the loose folds of Ben's shirt sleeve before letting it go just as fast as if he felt he was going to offend him. "Griff. Is… Is he…?"

"He's gonna be alright. I'll come back in a few days with Mr. Dobson. Just hang in there, Billy," Ben promised before leaving with Clem.

Billy ran his hands through his sandy hair and sat back down on the cot as the deputy locked the cell door.

"Billy, did ya mean what ya said 'bout not intending to go to jail?" Gabe asked in a low, wavering voice.

The youth in the opposite cell ignored his neighbor and waited for another explosion.

"Billy! I can't go to prison, you know that, right? And I sure as hell am not gonna hang neither! Why don't we forget about Cole? Forget about Butch. Let's start over, just you and me. We can make it outta here. Start a new gang. Whaddya say?" Gabe continued.

"I ain't stupid, Gabe! The minute you set foot outside those bars, you'd kill me! No, you belong in that cell. You belong behind bars," Billy spat.

Infuriated and beginning to feel like a caged animal, Gabe gripped the bars so hard, his knuckles were white. Between clenched teeth, he growled, "You better reconsider my offer, kid. I'm warning you!"

Billy swallowed hard, trying not to let his cousin's words affect him, but the ongoing threats was spinning in his head and it was difficult to merely push them away.

Thankfully, the days passed mostly peacefully at the Ponderosa. Everyone's injuries were healing as predicted and life was getting back to normal, at least on the surface.

"Easy, easy," Ben reminded his son as he walked slowly next to him. Paul had finally given Joe approval for some light movement around the house, and Joe was eager to take advantage of that privilege. After slowly walking up and down the upstairs hallway with his father, Joe decided to stop by Griff's room to pass a little time with him and, hopefully, cheer up the injured man.

Ben and Hop Sing had both expressed to Joe their observing Griff's change in demeanor and their unsuccessful attempts to help the ranch hand. Joe knew firsthand how frustrating it was to be bedridden even for a few days, let alone being bedridden due to a gang of outlaws holding you hostage and subjecting you to violence. He hoped that maybe he could help pull Griff out of his sullen mood.

"I'll come back to help you down the stairs to eat in a while," Ben reminded him. "See what you can do," he winked, referring to Griff. "Good luck."

Joe knocked at Griff's open door and slowly made his way into the room without waiting for Griff to respond. "Howdy," he greeted, taking a seat beside the bed.

"Howdy," Griff said without looking up from his lap. He was concentrating on writing in his journal, an activity that Griff was often seen doing by everyone on the ranch. Griff had been so thankful to see Hop Sing had delivered him the book and a pencil with his breakfast delivery. Otherwise, Griff would have been spending his time reading, but the guest room did not have any books that were within his reach. For some reason that he could not exactly figure out, Griff did not want to ask anyone to obtain some books from the downstairs library for him, even though he knew for a fact that if he asked, Ben, Hop Sing, or Jamie would have been more than happy to grant him that request.

"So, long time no see," Joe grinned, feeling a little awkward and unwelcome.

Griff nodded, shutting the cover to the journal with a snap to show he did not appreciate being disturbed from his writing. He felt a pang of regret at his actions. What is wrong with me? he wondered silently. Normally, I'd love to shoot the breeze with Joe. Even with those thoughts, Griff could not bring himself to stop his cold treatment towards anyone who tried to interact with him.

Joe paused, presuming Griff would pick up the conversation, but the tense silence told him that that was not going to happen. "Uhh, how are you feeling?" Joe finally asked.

Griff let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. "I'm feeling great, Joe," he said sarcastically. "Just fine and dandy- I got beat within an inch of my life, there's a hole in my gut the size of an egg, and to top it all off, the branding wound on my hand won't stop burning," he complained vehemently. "How do you think I feel?"

"Oh, I…" Joe was caught off guard at the gruff response, but did not let it deter him. "Well, I was wondering if you might want to play some checkers?"

"It's probably the last thing I wanna do," he rebuffed.

"Alright," Joe relented. "And I suppose you don't wanna talk about what's really bothering you?"

"You're supposin' right."

Joe took the blunt response with a grain of salt. Something was definitely off about the young man. His father and Hop Sing were right about that. Could it be the morphine talking? No, the drug should've worn off by now and he was certain his father hadn't given him any laudanum. Maybe it was the pain? "Griff, if you're hurtin' this bad, I'll get you some laudanum."

Griff's eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of the drug. "No, Joe, I don't want-" He thought he was screaming, but the words came out no louder than a whisper. At a loss to catch Joe's attention and breathing heavily, he hurled his journal across the room, smashing the mirror.

Joe ducked out of reflex. Before he could do anything else, Griff had rolled off the bed, on all fours, then rose unsteadily to his feet.

Worried the youth would hurt himself more, Joe jumped out of his chair, only to double over in pain from the sudden movement. "Wait!" he called unsuccessfully.

Griff staggered out the door and headed straight for the staircase. He needed to get out of there. He couldn't stay a moment longer. Gripping the banister tightly he took a step down followed by another, but when he heard Joe's weak voice calling out his name, he quickened his pace, taking two steps at a time until a wave of dizziness hit him. Losing control of what his legs were doing, Griff stumbled and tumbled down the last few steps.

"Griff!" Joe shouted from the top of the stairs. He was mildly relieved to see his father, Jamie, and Hop Sing running from the dining room. Unable to walk any further, he sank to the floor.

Ben wasted no time to check on the young man who was slowly rising to his feet but he was surprised when his caring hands met resistance.

Griff struggled out of Ben's hold, feeling as though he were being restrained. The nightmares of inmates surrounding him and holding him against his free will came rushing back.

"Griff! Get a hold of yourself!" Ben growled as he tried to calm the struggling youth.

"GET OFF ME! LET ME GO!' Griff barked, feeling the surge of adrenaline pumping through him.

Worried that Griff would run out of the house and come to serious harm, Ben drew back his fist and hit Griff in the jaw, pulling back on the force of the blow as much as he could.

The punch stunned Griff into submission and he lay panting on the floor.

Ben placed a hand on Griff's forehead. He was burning up, which probably explained the sudden bout of delirium.

"Pa!" Jamie cried out.

Ben turned to look at his son who was pointing down at Griff's stomach.

"He's bleeding!" Jamie exclaimed.

Ben returned his attention to the young man and sure enough, blood was seeping through a small area of the bandages that was wrapped around his waist. The circular stain slowly began to expand.

"I bring doctor!" Hop Sing announced loudly.

"Thank you, Hop Sing. Jamie, get me some more bandages. Hurry, son," Ben instructed as Hop Sing darted out the front door.

Ben pressed one hand over Griff's fevered forehead and the other against his bleeding abdomen.

"Get away from me," Griff mumbled. "I don't...I don't belong…"

"Sshh, it's alright Griff," Ben said mechanically. "Just take it easy."

"No, no," Griff cried from the floor. "Please, just leave... me… alone!" The desperation and frustration was so clear in his voice that Ben had to fight not to heed Griff's request. "Leave m'lone…" he continued to repeat until his voice faded into nothingness.

Ben sighed. He knew that the doctor could clean Griff's wounds, drain the infection, cut his body, sew him up, prescribe any variety of tonics and medicines to alleviate his pain and to heal his injuries. He also knew that if Griff were ever going to recover from this terrible ordeal, they were going to have to do something to help heal his mind, as well.

Or else.