AN: A heartfelt thank you to all our readers for staying with us and for the wonderful reviews you took the time to leave us :-) Here is another longer chapter. Stay well and safe!

VCS

Chapter 26

Ben walked ahead of Harry Dobson as they were led into the cell block where Billy and Gabe Toliver were being held.

Sheriff Coffee unlocked Billy's cell and allowed the two men inside before relocking it after them. "Now, you just holler when you're done. I'll be in my office."

"Thank you, Roy," Ben said while Dobson gave a polite nod.

Billy stood up and shook hands with the attorney.

"Hey! You! You the big shot lawyer?" Gabe Toliver called out, waving his arm through the bars, trying to draw attention to himself.

Ben rolled his eyes. The man was insufferable, he thought.

Harry Dobson kept a cool and calm demeanor. He was experienced enough with men like Gabe Toliver that he didn't let the outburst bother him. "Take a seat, Billy. Today, we're not going to go through too much. I just want to get to know you a little better. Is that alright?"

"Yeah, sure… Sir...Your Honour," Billy replied awkwardly, sitting back down on the edge of the bed while Dobson and Ben sat opposite him. He really had no idea how he should address a lawyer.

Harry gave the boy a reassuring smile. "Please, you can call me or just Harry is fine too. You can save Your Honour for the courtroom when you address the judge."

Billy nodded, blushing. "Sorry, Mr. Dobson."

"That's quite alright. Now, just relax and we'll get started."

For the next hour, Billy sat answering all of Harry's questions, although the further the lawyer probed, the harder it was for him to answer. The questions were mostly personal, and Billy felt uncomfortable answering all of them for fear of judgement.

Ben did his best to put the boy's mind at ease and coaxed him into being as truthful as possible. Given Gabe's intolerable taunts, he didn't blame Billy for feeling uncomfortable.

"Alright, let's continue this tomorrow. I think I have a good foundation for your case," Dobson said encouragingly.

Ben called out for Roy and once he and Harry left the jailhouse behind them, he asked his longtime friend the question he was itching to ask, "What are his chances?"

"Well, considering his age, the fact that Butch and his cousins practically raised him when his parents passed away, we can try to get the jury to sympathize and understand that he couldn't know any better and felt he had practically no choice but to follow in the footsteps of the only living family members he had. I won't lie, it's not going to be easy. The boy idolizes his brother who is - was - the leader of one of the most wanted gangs in the territory. It would have looked better for him if he was forced against his will to do the things he did, but he was a willing participant and that's what's going to go against him, I'm afraid," Dobson explained with a heavy sigh. "No two juries are the same. It could go either way. Best we can hope for, if he were given a guilty verdict, is Judge Raynor's leniency with his sentencing. Ben, there's a chance he could still hang."

"I see," Ben acknowledged thoughtfully. His concern for Billy's case grew given the analysis that Harry had entailed. He prayed that the people who would sit as jurors and Judge Raynor himself would find it in their hearts to look past Billy's mistakes to see the boy had plenty of good in him to compensate and to give him the chance he believed he deserved.

"It's been almost a week since he's had an episode like that," Joe reminded Jamie. They sat at the table, enjoying their breakfast. Griff was still recuperating upstairs, though it seemed like the more his health improved, the worse his attitude became. The Cartwrights were at their wits end in dealing with him, until they caught a glimpse of him berating himself when he thought himself to be alone or startling awake from a nightmare. "He's healing well, even moving around a little. The longer you put this off, the harder it's going to be."

"I spooked him so badly last time that he hit me, Joe," Jamie insisted. "It was like… well, like we were… fighting again." The teenager pushed his scrambled eggs around the plate. "Maybe it's just better if we stay outta each other's way for a while."

"It's been awhile," the older brother corrected his sibling. "Would it help if I were there with you?"

"No!" Jamie bristled at Joe's offer, even though he knew if it came from a place of concern. Jamie was so tired of everyone presuming he needed extra care due to his age; he simply wanted a chance to prove himself a capable, contributing member of the family. "I mean, no thanks." Jamie placed his napkin on the table. "Griff and I will talk soon, alone. Man to man." He rose from his seat and hopped over to Joe. "Need help getting up?"

"No use in saying 'no,'" Joe joked, allowing his brother to bear some of his weight as he stood. Like Griff, Joe was making progress in his health, too. He could walk on his own, though too much activity still tired him out enough that he was still restricted to the ranch and unable to work.

Just as Joe and Jamie made it into the living room, Ben and Griff appeared, making their way down the stairs together.

"It's not a race," Ben admonished gently as they both finally reached the first floor. "You don't want to hurt yourself."

"I can manage just fine!" Griff spat out, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

He could not for the life of him understand where this resentment for the Cartwrights originated, but he could not help wanting to be left to his own company. For the last week, Griff felt like he was walking around possessed by his own demons. Rationally, he knew that he loved the Cartwrights and normally, he would have jumped at the chance to spend this time with them, thankful that they were all safe and sound. And yet, it was like a nagging voice had convinced Griff that he was somehow a bother to them, that they would all be better off if he would just stay at a distance and cut him out of their lives. He still felt guilty about harming Jamie, both during the Toliver ordeal and afterward. That very guilt grew with each passing day.

"I really just want to go outside for a little," he said evenly, already feeling his temper mount as he felt Jamie's eyes burrowing into the back of his skull. "Get some fresh air, maybe stop by the barn…"

Griff had one objective in mind: go see his trusty horse, Thunder. Maybe spending some quality time with the animal would help him sort out the chaos he felt within himself.

"Well, it's not like I'm your prisoner here!" Griff suddenly shouted before he could stop the words from escaping his mouth. He had not meant to imply that the Ponderosa were at all comparable to a prison, but he couldn't help himself. "I can go where I please."

Ben released his hold on Griff's waist, though he stayed near to intervene if Griff showed any signs of losing his balance. "You are absolutely right," he acknowledged.

Griff chewed at his lip and slowly limped toward the door, holding his healing abdomen as he crossed the room slowly. He stared at the ground, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, but he could feel everyone else's eyes watching him. He made his way to the front entrance and when he tried to close the heavy wooden door behind him, he was surprised to find resistance. He turned his head and found Ben right behind him, his hand on the door.

"I can go where I please, too," Ben said evenly.

Griff stifled a bitter laugh. "Guess that's true," he commented. The two made their way across the yard and into the barn at Griff's pace.

Griff scowled at not finding the solitude he craved, but he was at least glad to have made it out to the barn to see his four-legged friend. "I know, boy, I missed you, too," he crooned, retrieving the brush and letting the horse sniff it. "Sorry it's been awhile," he softly apologized, stroking Thunder's black mane with such care and precision. He purposefully turned his back to Ben, hoping that the gesture would be enough to get the older man to leave him alone.

The rhythmic movement soothed Griff more than he would care to admit. As he began to think about the worries and fears that plagued his mind, he began to lose track of the time he was spending brushing down the sleek coal black coat of his steed.

Ben stared at the young man as he continued his routine. It amazed him that the parolee could be so aggravated with them one minute and so gentle the next. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "If you keep brushing him like that, you'll give him a bald spot," he advised, careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

"You think I don't know how to take care of my own horse?" Griff asked coarsely, his mind snapping back to the present by Ben's constant intrusion.

Ben did not react to the accusatory tone. He had a lot of experience with hot tempers and racing emotions after raising four sons. "I know you can take care of Thunder. I know you can do a lot of things, Griff," Ben remarked. "I know how you made Jamie feel he was instrumental in saving Joe's life when you helped him dress his brother's wound. I know you nearly bit your tongue clean through trying to keep a hold of your insults at the Tolivers when they threatened us. And Thunder," Ben quickly added. He had sidled up close enough to reach out and give Thunder a pat. "I know how reading from that book was as much for everyone else's benefit as it was for your own and I know how awful it was for you to be tied up that night when you agreed to take that laudanum pill. I also know how you faked that fight with Jamie to keep him away from Gabe," he listed carefully, gaging the young man's reactions.

"So… err." Griff wasn't sure where their conversation was going, but Ben's kind, baritone voice was difficult to reject. "I mean, yes. That's right. Look, he's a kid, and it was hard on him. His brother bleeding out, his father gone off and pushed around by some outlaws. I just... " He searched for the right words that would shut this dialogue down before he said something he regretted. "I tried to make it a little easier is all."

"It must've been hard for you," Ben continued. "Trying to take care of everyone, not knowing what might set off any of the Tolivers. It must've been the biggest challenge you've had to face, having other people to protect other than yourself. To do everything and anything to keep them safe no matter what it cost you," he acknowledged. "Wasn't it?"

The understanding and compassion in the small question nearly broke Griff's heart, but he tried to keep himself composed. His hand shook with enough force so that he dropped the brush to the floor. He leaned into Thunder's broad chest for support he did not realize he needed. "It… Yes," he choked out, a flurry of images and feelings engulfing him. "Yes, it was hard," he admitted, slowly moving his fingers back and forth through Thunder's mane.

"Griff, son, please," Ben beseeched. "I'm just trying to help you. That's what we are all trying to do. Will you let us help you, like you helped us?"

That word: son.

Usually, Griff recoiled at being called "son" because it reminded him of his abusive childhood. Of his father's stale drunken breath. His fists. His boots. His belt. And the words "son" spat at him like it were poison.

But hearing Ben call him son today, when Griff was already feeling so vulnerable and unsure of himself, lonely and afraid from keeping the family out of his business, in pain and scared since that day the Tolivers had busted through the door…it was unlike the way anybody had used the word to call him.

"I… I…" he stuttered, curling in on himself as he leaned against the wall. "I was so scared," he stated softly. "I was scared, and I tried so hard to keep everyone safe, and I didn't know how to do that! I didn't know what I did was right or wrong. Joe and Jamie…" He shuddered. "Everything I tried, I just didn't know if… It was like I was watching myself do all these things, and nothing was working out like it was supposed to," he hastily explained. "Nothing! I got Jamie hurt. And he resents me for it, I know he does. He won't even talk to me." Griff rubbed his eyes to keep a flow of tears back, but the action was not doing him much good. "And I can't even blame him. He's right to be afraid of me, he's right to hate me, after the way I acted. Them Tolivers, they said things that just tore me open, they knew exactly what buttons to push, and I let them. I let them get to me. Every stupid comment, every joke, everything!" he burst. "And after awhile, I just wanted to hurt them, hurt anyone," he cried, sliding down the wall. "They were right about me. Right that I don't belong here, that I belong in… in…" Griff's stomach lurched at the idea that he was about to utter. "Not here with you all," he finally squeaked. "You were gone, I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't let you down," he brokenly explained, curling in on himself and wiping the sudden sweat that formed on his brow. "You've all been so good to me, and I couldn't let you down. I had to do something, I had to help, but I didn't know what to do!" The reality of his words began to sink into Griff, leaving him speechless and struggling to hold back sobs.

Ben quickly lowered himself to his knees and put his arms around Griff to guide him to his chest. "That's it," he whispered in a low voice, careful not to say something that would drive Griff further into his shell. "It's gonna be okay. It's alright now."

It was exactly how Griff had always envisioned the way a father might comfort his son. He relaxed into the embrace more fully, suddenly unable to hold back the sobs that wracked his frame. "I thought you'd all die, and it'd all be my fault!" he confessed between gulps of air.

"We're fine," Ben crooned. "We're all fine, thanks to you. I know it was scary, terrifying even. But you were strong and brave." He deliberately breathed slowly and deeply, hoping Griff would follow suit. "But you can't keep it all bottled up now, Griff. It'll tear you apart worse than what the Tolivers tried to do. We want to be here for you," he emphasized. "Let us in, son. Let us help you like you helped us."

"I…" Griff struggled to be able to put more than three syllables together in a coherent fashion. "That's hard for… m-me, too," he sighed. "I don't know why I've been acting the way I have been," he said. "But it's like I couldn't stop myself, can't stop myself." He brought his hand up to wrap around Ben's arm, gripping it like it was his lifeline. "What am I going to do? Jamie hates me. Joe's probably not far behind."

Ben smiled warmly. "Griff, Jamie doesn't hate you, and neither does Joe. They never could."

"They should," Griff quickly supplied. "You too, after the way I've treated you."

"No, no," Ben insisted. "But as much as we're ready to help you through this, it won't mean a lick if you don't meet us halfway."

Griff sighed and pushed his disheveled hair out of his eyes. "So, what do I do now?"

"You acknowledge that this happened," Ben first advised. "You can't just try to ignore it. The Toliver Gang walked right on in and took us all hostage," Ben verbalized. "And we survived, partly because of you."

"And we survived," Griff repeated like a mantra he could cling to anytime the nightmares threatened to overwhelm him. "We did," he confirmed. "You know…" He swallowed nervously but pushed himself to follow Ben's advice and to share with those closest to him. "I hit Jamie."

"When Gabe made you fight," Ben finished. "Your quick thinking saved you both."

"Another time, too," Griff continued. "I was sleeping, after that morphine shot. You know how that stuff affects me - giving me nightmares and feeling disoriented," he recapped. "Well, I was having one, and I thought I was punching Gabe. I swear that's what I saw," he recounted. "But then, Jamie was on the floor. I didn't even know why he was there. I didn't realize it until it was too late. Then I yelled at him, told him to get out. He flew outta the room and… that's the last thing I've said to him." Griff wiped his hand across his chin. "After all he did to bring me back from the brink there with Gabe… You know I almost killed him, don't you? With my bare hands, in front of your sons. It was Jamie who stopped me from doing that, and I repaid him by proving the Tolivers right, that I am some kinda killer who don't care for nothing or no one but himself."

"I see," Ben remarked.

"I knew men like that in prison," shuddered Griff. "Swore I wouldn't get like that."

"Griff, you're not like those men. You have been through more horrors than anyone I know. It's not surprising your emotions react the way they do to certain situations. Jamie hasn't had that sort of exposure and I would never wish that upon anybody, but you gotta understand that his reactions are not going to be the same as yours," Ben explained.

"What do I gotta do to make him understand?" Griff questioned, hoping Ben had an answer.

A faraway look crossed over Ben's face before he replied. "Nothing. Give him time and he'll come round. The more you push, the harder he will resist." With a small chuckle and a wink he added, "A little like someone else I know."

Griff expelled a small laugh and carefully pushed himself up to his feet. Ben mirrored his movement. Once they were both steady, he gave Griff a clap on the back and let his hand linger on the young man's shoulder, offering a last touch of comfort.

Picking up the fallen brush, Ben handed it back to Griff. "Have you stretched your legs enough for one day?" he asked.

Griff sighed, already feeling a little sore and tired from his time outdoors. "Let's head back into the house."