Adams rushed to Dillon's side and pulled the man's hand away from his throat. He tried massaging Matt's neck, but the muscles wouldn't relax. Kitty stood by, her hand clamped over her mouth, her own fear escalating so quickly she could barely breathe. Dillon wheezed with a rattle that Doc recognized as death; he had mere seconds in which to save Matt's life. Adams looked into the marshal's wide open blue eyes; eyes stretched by fear of the unknown, and it came to him.
Doc grabbed a scalpel and made an "X" incision in Matt's neck. He looked around for something to use as a stint, and his eyes landed on his stethoscope, specifically the rubber hose portions, but just as quickly he deduced it wouldn't be sturdy enough to do what he needed it to do. Switch cane. Festus had used switch cane in the construction of some makeshift cots. Doc grabbed an empty bed and ripped it apart, pulling a smaller cane tube free, he cut it down in size. He struggled but managed to insert the tube into the incision he had made, and a moment later, Dillon was drawing breath through it. The wide open blue eyes calmed somewhat as Matt realized he was still breathing. He looked into the steel grey eyes and tried to speak.
Doc ran a strong hand over Matt's brow. "Don't try to talk, Matt, I'm pretty certain it'll hurt like hell. I want you to just lie still, and try to take slow and easy breaths. Your fever's come down some, and your pulse is stronger now. It's gonna be awhile before the swelling in your throat eases off though, so I'm gonna leave this tube in for now." He reached over and grabbed a bottle of sterile alcohol from his bag and some gauze. "I'm gonna clean around this incision to keep out infection, it's gonna sting something fierce." He looked up at Kitty, who had turned a shade white that Doc didn't like at all. "Kitty, I want you to take his hand, all right?"
She nodded, took Matt's hand in her own, but couldn't trust herself to speak. Doc cleaned the area, causing Dillon to grimace, but in a moment it was over, and Doc was securing the tube in place with gauze as best he could. He then guided Kitty to sit down next to Matt, and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek.
"I want you to sit here with him for awhile Kitty, and if you see anything change, I mean anything at all, I want you to tell me immediately. Do you understand?" She nodded, but looked dazed. Doc turned her chin toward him, his timbre softening. "You all right, honey?"
She nodded again, but silent tears started to roll down her cheeks. Matt squeezed her hand, and Doc tenderly brushed away the streaks of moisture from her face.
"That was pretty scary, I know." He looked at Dillon and winked. "You'll have to find a way to be charming company for her without saying anything."
Matt struggled to find strength, but winked back, and then pulled Kitty's hand up to his chest, cradling it there. Still fighting the tears in her eyes, Kitty looked at him and laid her head down upon their hands. Within moments they were both asleep.
Doc stepped over to the bar, reached across the back of it and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He poured a shot and downed it quickly, trying to stop the trembling in his hands. It had been far too close a call with someone who was very dear to him. Doc wanted nothing more than to collapse in a bed and give in to the exhaustion, fear and helplessness that had been his constant companions for more than a week. But instead, he poured a second shot, downed it, and hoped that it would be enough to keep him going for awhile longer. He glanced over at Kitty and Matt and smiled slightly; at least they would have a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
He looked at the room full of patients and made himself busy with the vocation of caring for them. It was what he had always done, and what he would always do until his dying breath. He just hoped that wasn't coming any time soon.