Nathan pushed open the church door. With all that had happened, he didn't know if anyone had ever got the latest word to Josiah about Chris. Besides, he welcomed the chance to talk to the ex-preacher.

'Mis'ry loves company,' his daddy had said.

"Josiah?" He walked up the aisle and paused at the door to his room.

The big man came out, pulling the door shut behind him.

"I thought I'd come by in case ain't nobody told you yet--"

"'Bout Chris not bein' able to see?"

"They told you, then…"

"He told me."

Josiah pushed open the door again. Vin was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. His knees drawn in to his chin, and his eyes stared at some faraway point. Nathan looked at Josiah quizzically, his brown eyes full of concern.

"Wandered inside. Ain't said much since. He's been drinkin' since yesterday, looks like. I think he's soberin' up, but I thought it best to keep him here so the good citizens don't see 'im like this."

Nathan crouched down and studied Vin's face.

"Vin? You all right?"

"Nathan?" he slurred. He took a breath and said softly, "I blinded my best friend."

Nathan looked sharply at Josiah.

"Accident," the preacher said by way of explanation. "Blames himself."

Vin shook his head, watching a scene replay in front of him that no one else could see. "Shovin' a man into oblivion ain't no accident," he said hollowly, his voice breaking.

"You didn't mean for him to get hurt," Josiah reminded him gently.

Nathan turned his attention back to Vin. "You talked to Chris, yet?"

Anger flared in the sharpshooter's eyes. "What do you say to a man? 'Sorry I made ya blind?'"

Josiah leaned against the doorframe. "Might do for a start."

Vin shook his head slowly. "That won't fix nothin'. Won't undo what happened. Won't make up for what I done."

"It won't for a fact," Josiah agreed. "But you might be surprised at the healing powers of confession and forgiveness."

"Forgive! You think he's gonna forgive me for this? How could anybody? I ruined his life and he has every reason to hate me for it."

"You could at least give him a chance. You're the one said he was your best friend."

"Y'know, Chris don't remember what happened," added Nathan. "Might be blamin' hisself for what happened just like you are. He's asked about you."

Vin looked at him skeptically. He opened his mouth to reply when a shout interrupted them.

"Nathan? You in there?" Buck could be heard coming up the church steps.

Nathan straightened and left the room, as Josiah closed the door again, leaving it open a crack. Moments later, Buck entered the church sanctuary.

"Been lookin' all over for ya. Ezra's brought Chris to your room. He's hurt."

"Bad?" asked Josiah.

"Don't know. He's conscious, if that helps."

"No!" a voice moaned from Josiah's room.

Buck looked at the two men in surprise and pushed the door open.

"It just gets worse," Vin was muttering. "I blinded him and it just gets worse." His body started to shiver uncontrollably.

Nathan turned and started to leave. "I'd best git goin'. Thanks, Buck." He paused and looked at the two of them, a profoundly helpless sadness in his liquid brown eyes. "I wish I could do more for Chris. If I was a real doctor…But I'm not…And I…"

"We understand, Nathan," said Josiah in a gentle voice. "You're doin' the best a good friend can do."

The black man forced a tiny smile and nodded his thanks before disappearing out the door.

Buck turned back to Josiah, nodding his head in Vin's direction. "What's he talkin' about?"

"It was an accident, Buck. He didn't mean for it to happen. And it's tearin' him up inside."

"Ezra asked us to meet him in the saloon…" Buck glanced back at Vin uncertainly.

"He'll be all right. You go ahead."

Buck nodded and left.

Josiah nodded, then turned to Vin, who by now had his arms hugging his knees and was visibly shivering.

"Why don't you rest here for now?" Josiah pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around Vin. "You certainly got Chris in a mess and yourself in a heap o' trouble," he said dryly.

"I know, Josiah," he whispered. "I know."

Buck stopped by Nathan's while the healer examined and treated Chris's injuries, including his newest ones, then joined JD, Josiah and Ezra in the saloon. After Ezra finished telling them about the grease fire at the shack and the injuries Chris had sustained as a result, Buck shook his head sadly.

"That man is like a brother to me. I've watched him endure more tragedy than any man should ever have to. And now this..."

Ezra studied his glass thoughtfully. "Gentlemen," he said slowly. "Might I suggest…encouraging Mr. Larabee to go back east? They have…places for people with his affliction."

Buck bristled. "You mean like an institution?"

"I mean a place where people--professionals--have the experience in dealing with the blind. We do not have the skills to look after him properly and it'll be just a matter of time before he or his reputation gets him killed. I'm suggesting he'd receive better care--and be safer--there."

"Ever been to one of them places?" Josiah asked curiously, scratching his chin.

"Well..."

"Think Chris'd like it?"

Ezra straightened. "Regardless of what he likes, you must admit that circumstances have changed beyond his control. He cannot continue to live out there in that hovel of his in his present condition. I don't see where he--or for that matter, we--have any choice."

"You be the one to tell him he has to go."

"Has anyone got a better idea?"

"He stays in town in his rented room," suggested Buck. "There's six of us to look after him."

"Fine," said Ezra at last. "Shall we tell him as a group?"

Buck nodded. "Safest way."

"For all of us," added JD.

------------------------------

It was mid-evening by the time Nathan brought Chris into the saloon. The room was now tightly packed as Nathan steered him over to the table.

"Them burns was minor, and he held nice and still for me and let me take them stitches out," said Nathan to the group.

Chris tried to smile. "Don't let word get around that I was a good boy, Nathan."

"Have a drink, Chris?" offered Josiah. "Stay awhile."

"Nah, I'd best be headin' out. Probably gettin' late. It's a long way out there and back. JD, you mind?"

There was a pause that was physically tangible. Chris's smile faded. "What...?"

"We think you should stay in town," said Ezra slowly. "For as long as this...condition...lasts."

"You tricked me, bringing me back in town," Chris accused.

"It was for your own good," Ezra replied. "You nearly set yourself on fire and if you don't manage to eventually succeed in doing so, you might--you just might--get yourself shot."

"Meanin'?"

Ezra licked his lips and drew himself up a little. "How long do you think it'll be before word spreads that the famous Chris Larabee is now…" He paused, struggling for a word. "…indisposed?"

"You can say it, Ezra," he spat. "Blind. Go on, say it."

"'Blind', then. As I said, it's for your own good. You have a room in town. And you have six friends willing to 'watch your back' for you, as Mr. Tanner so colorfully puts it."

"No." Chris's jaw set determinedly. "JD? Take me home. Now."

"Uh…No, I…Sorry, Chris."

Chris trembled with fury. These were his friends betraying him now. He didn't want to stay in town, groping his way around or, worse, carrying a cane. He didn't want to be where people could stare and pity and laugh at him. An argument had started in one corner of the saloon, so Chris raised his voice slightly.

"I'll find my own way home," he said, as he stood up and tried to leave.

"Chris--!"

The warning came too late as he stumbled over a fallen chair in his path and fell to his knees.

JD looked at the others and moved to take Chris's elbow. "Come on," he whispered. "Nobody saw. I'll take you to your room, okay?"

Chris nodded in defeat as JD helped him up. Just as Chris regained his feet, the six of them were distracted by the rapidly-escalating brawl that now engulfed the entire saloon.

"Get 'im out of here!" Buck yelled as Chris was escorted outside into the alley behind, followed by the sounds of breaking furniture and glass.

"Stay here, okay?" JD said breathlessly. "I'll come back for you and take you to your room."

Chris stood there, alone, silently fuming. He should have been in the thick of it, trying to help stop the fight and, had he been able to see, he would have been. But instead he'd been hustled outside like a child who was only in the way, and he resented it.

The ever-present headache seized his attention, as pain suddenly lanced through his skull. Chris was learning to recognize the fierce, burning agony as a signal of another impending blackout. He groped his way along the wall, hoping to find his way to his room before he passed out.

A firm, strong hand took his elbow, steadying him.

"JD," he ground out, "I need to get to my room."

"I got ya," a familiar voice drawled softly. Chris frowned.

"Vin?"

An instant later, he was unconscious.

------------------------------

Awareness that he was in a bed came slowly to Chris Larabee. Whose bed, he wasn't sure, but he hoped it was his own. How had he--? Someone had brought him here. The deep, even breathing of someone sleeping nearby filtered into his fogged brain, prodding his memory.

"Vin?"

"Right here," came a sleepy voice.

Chris heard a rustle and a creak as Vin shifted in the chair. There was a long silence, until Chris finally asked the question that had been uppermost in his mind lately.

"Where ya been?"

"Thinkin'," Vin replied.

"All this time? Musta had a lot of thinkin' t' do."

"Fer a fact."

Chris took a deep breath. "I…I can't remember what happened, but whatever I done--"

"Wasn't you. You didn't do nothin'. Leastaways, nothin' any good friend wouldn't try t' do." Vin shifted again, uncomfortably. "JD come lookin' fer ya last night. Got scared when he couldn't find ya outside the saloon."

"He's a good ki--" Chris stopped to correct himself. "--man."

"Yeah, he is. Told him you was asleep."

Chris frowned. "I wasn't."

"I know. Been havin' them spells often?"

"Only when the headache gets bad."

"'Headache?'"

Chris shrugged. "It's tolerable now."

Vin moved over to the window.

"How much more damage can I do to a man," he muttered bitterly to himself.

"What?" The silence in the room grew and expanded as the revelation sank in slowly. Chris resisted it at first, but the reality of what Vin had said would not be denied. He struggled to sit up. "YOU did this to me? WHY?"

Vin rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I dunno--it was an accident. A stupid accident. You were tryin' t' talk to me. I was mule-headed. I pushed ya and ya fell and..." He let the sentence trail off.

"Pushing me was an 'accident'?" Chris rubbed his temples, the pain filling his skull with a sharp, persistent ache.

"I didn't mean--"

"Get out," Chris said in a soft voice. His headache was beginning to pound mercilessly again as he tried to sort out the tumble of thoughts and feelings that bombarded him.

"If I could make it right, I--"

"I need ya t' get out," he said levelly, barely controlling his voice.

Vin sighed. "I understand," he said sadly.

Chris heard the door close. His hold on his emotions crumbled and, as he had three years ago when he'd lost so much, he began to cry in painful, wracking sobs.

------------------------------

Vin stood outside the door to Chris's room. At least now Larabee knew the truth, though that thought didn't console Vin in the least. He pressed his back against the wall next to the door jamb, trying to decide where to go, what to do next. From behind the closed door, he heard a sound he'd never imagined: the heartbroken sobs of Chris Larabee.

Vin swallowed a lump in his throat, as he began to realize the extent of the harm he'd caused. He'd not only caused the man physical harm, but an emotional breakdown as well. Chris would've welcomed a bullet from a stranger--and would've been smiling--compared to the betrayal of a trusted friend. A friend who'd cost him everything.

His stomach wrenched painfully, and he crossed his arms over his midsection. He bent at the waist and drew in two quick breaths before straightening up and numbly heading down the stairs and out into the street.

"Good morning, Mr. Tanner," said Ezra, as Vin passed him without noticing him.

As if in a dream, he got on his horse and rode out of town with no particular destination in mind. He just kept riding as if he could outride the guilt and pain that dogged him.

When he finally slowed to a stop, he found himself back where it had all happened. Something kept drawing him back to this spot. He sat on the hillside and stared off into the distance. There was a mist rising from the shadowy valley, spreading out over the trees below him.

Yep, sure was a pretty morning.

Except Chris couldn't see it. Would never see another like it, either.

Vin sighed. He'd blinded a man. Ruined his life. He hadn't meant to, but the fact was it had happened and it was no one's fault but his. Chris didn't want him around, and who could blame him? And how could the others ever trust him again?

Vin Tanner couldn't imagine living with the guilt of destroying his best friend. Of watching Chris suffer. If he could have helped Chris...but, no, he'd done enough already, he thought bitterly. No one would want him near Chris anyway and it was probably just as well. No, he had to leave. There was no other choice. If he knew where that Priscilla had got to, he'd have gone after her, but she could be anywhere by now. Anywhere at all.

Suddenly it seemed like a good time to clean up old business.

------------------------------

Chris lay back on the bed, feeling physically and emotionally drained.

Vin had done this to him. Vin had blinded him--a man he'd trusted with his life and whose life he'd defended. He wanted to believe it was an accident, but it didn't change what was. His world had come crashing down on him three years ago. He had struggled to survive and had even begun to rebuild. And now it had all caved in on him again.

Now he wasn't so sure he could survive this, too. His friends didn't seem to think so or he wouldn't be trapped here in town.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Had Vin returned? What more was there to say? Whatever it was, he didn't want to hear it right now.

"Go 'way."

"Can't, stud," drawled Buck as he opened the door. "Got yer breakfast."

"Ain't hungry."

"Inez'll have my hide if you--"

"You eat it."

"I'd love to, but I'm full. Now stop bein' so stubborn and eat, like a good boy."

Chris exploded. He lashed out, managing to knock the tray from Buck's hands.

"I told you I ain't hungry! I just want to go home, dammit." His voice broke, becoming very soft and without hope as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I want to go home."

Buck said nothing for a long moment, then gently lowered himself beside his friend.

"Chris…I want things to be different, too. We all do. But we're just tryin' to protect you."

Chris sat there, showing no reaction.

"Vin said...he made me blind. Did you know that?"

"We did. It was an accident."

"He pushed me."

"He didn't mean for ya t' fall. I was mad as fire at first. Hell, we were all were. But, Chris, he's payin' for it, I can tell. You know, he was real scared afterwards. Man thought you was gonna die, even after Nathan said you weren't."

"Maybe I should have."

Buck squeezed his shoulder and stood. "Now, you know you don't want that," he said as he began to clean up some of the mess. "You're a survivor. I seen it after Sarah and Adam. And I see it in you now." He looked at the broken dishes ruefully. "I'll tell Inez I met with a little mishap with your breakfast. Or do you wanna come over and eat in the saloon?"

"No. No, I don't want people seein' me like this."

"You can't hole up in here forever." Buck paused, regarding his blind friend. "Any man would be scared," he added gently. "Just remember that you ain't alone. You weren't after Sarah and Adam, and you ain't now."

Chris pondered this awhile, then finally forced a wan smile.

"The saloon," he echoed thoughtfully. "I…I guess I could eat somethin'…"

"Now we're talkin'! Tell ya what: let's have us a bath and a shave, and then go get us some food. Just leave it t' ol' Buckley." He took Chris's elbow and helped him up. "Make a whole new man outta you."

A whole new man.

"Already been there," Chris murmured.

------------------------------

Mrs. Potter stood outside the bank, having just been escorted to the sidewalk by Williams, the bank manager.

"It was just terrible," she fluttered. "I just can't imagine. You're very fortunate she didn't shoot you or Mr. Tanner!"

"Well, yes, Mrs. Potter, I'm sure-"

"There goes Mr. Tanner now." She pointed down the street as Vin was riding out of town. She looked at Williams knowingly and dropped her voice. "I've heard tell he used to be a bounty hunter. Hunted buffalo with the Indians, too. Why, he could be on her trail even now! Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"Indeed," Williams said absently, as he watched Vin riding off like a man with a very determined destination in mind. Williams didn't like it. "Excuse me, Mrs. Potter...I have to...send a wire..."

------------------------------

Later that morning, Chris did feel better after his bath and shave. Buck had taken care to make sure that Chris knew where things were - the soap, towel, and tub - before paying a little extra to give him complete privacy.

Buck had been equally good about Chris's shave. He'd kept the barber in conversation, his soft gentle voice keeping Chris relaxed and calm as an unseen blade scraped across his face.

Now seated at a table in the saloon, Inez had just set a plate of hot food in front of him. Buck quickly explained what was on his and plate and where.

"Thanks, Buck," Chris said, softly and sincerely to his longtime friend before attacking his meal. He could just hear Ezra in a corner of the busy room, and he sounded like the game was going well.

As he finished his last bite of food, he started at the sudden sound of JD's voice just over his shoulder. Buck looked up at him and frowned.

"JD, don't go sneakin' up on man, will you?"

JD shot him a slightly wounded look. "I was lookin' for you. I wanted to ask you if you've seen Vin around town?"

"It's early yet. Man could be most anywhere."

"Anywhere is right," agreed JD. "He's gone."

"Gone?"

"Who's gone?" asked Josiah as he joined the three men and took a seat at the table.

"Vin-" JD began.

Buck interrupted. "Now you don't know-"

JD shook his head insistently. "I went by his wagon. It's empty. And his horse is gone, too. I'm tellin' ya, Buck, he's gone. Up and left." He looked around at the others. "Didn't he say anything to anybody?"

"Not me."

Josiah. "Who saw 'im last?"

"I did."

The others went silent and looked at Chris.

"--And I'm goin' after 'im."

More silence. At last, Buck leaned forward in his chair.

"And just how do you aim to do that? And for that matter, why? Hell, the man blinded you."

Chris didn't flinch. "I know what he did...And I know where he's goin'...Tascosa." He stood. "I gotta stop 'im, Buck."

"Well, I don't see how you're gonna do that. He's made his choice. Maybe he thinks it's somethin' he needs to do."

Chris shook his head. "Ain't right, and you know it." He paused, and swallowed hard. "I-I...I need someone to help me go after him."

The others looked at each other in surprise. They had never heard Chris say he "needed" anyone but it was obvious it was the hardest thing he'd ever put into words. The others looked at each other uncertainly.

"No, Chris," Buck answered at last in a quiet voice. "Whether you think he's doin' right or not, the man made his own decision, and besides, you ain't in no kinda shape to go all over Creation after 'im."

"I'll go with you," JD said suddenly.

Buck looked at him angrily. "JD-"

"He'll find a way to go, Buck. Like it or not, you know he will. At least if one of us is with him, it might be okay."

"I'm still here-" Chris interjected, peeved at being talked about like he was no longer in the room. "I'm blind, not deaf."

The two continued anyway.

"It's foolhardy!" Buck argued. "Draggin' a blind man out to the middle of nowhere. Kid, why, the two of you won't get five miles outta town."

JD ignored him as he took the blond gunman's elbow. "C'mon, Chris. Let's go."

Buck turned away from them in angry frustration as the two men left. Josiah leaned forward.

------------------------------

Williams didn't consider himself a nervous man, but certainly a cautious one. He had packed as quickly as he could. He would have to catch up to Tanner now. The peacekeeper had a good head start on him but, wherever it was Tanner was heading Williams was determined to find out. He was just tightening the cinch on his saddle when he saw JD Dunne ride by and Chris Larabee was with him.

Williams frowned. Word on the street was that the man was blind, but now Williams couldn't be sure. If that were true, surely he wouldn't be riding with Dunne and Tanner now...

Now the bank manager was sure something was up. They were all headed out of town, all in the same direction. Maybe they had formed a search party. Maybe they had a clue.

He had to find out.

------------------------------

It was late afternoon when Vin finally slowed his pace. He didn't know what he was in such an all-fired hurry about, after all. If he couldn't clear his name, he was riding right back to a hanging for sure.

He'd tried not to think about what lay ahead of him. For that matter, he'd tried not to think about what lay behind him, either. And it was what-or rather who-he'd left behind that caused him the most pain, and far more than the thought of a stretched neck.

He rode on anyway.

------------------------------

Life went on as usual back in town-the occasional dust-up but nothing too serious. Buck had even found some time to spend in his still-fruitless attempt to pursue the Bartholomew twins. Once again, with a smile and a giggle, they'd sashayed off down the street, leaving him watching their retreating backs with appreciation.

Another day, perhaps. He was wearin' 'em down, he was sure. He turned to see Ezra take a comfortable position outside the saloon, with his feet propped up on a railing, his hat tilted over his eyes.

"Takin' the day off, Ezra?"

"Ah, Mr. Wilmington…It seems to me it's some kind of holiday, though it eludes which one it could be."

Buck turned. "What on earth are you talking about?"

Ezra tilted his hat back to regard the tall Irishman. "In case you hadn't noticed while you were scrutinizing the architecture of the bustle, the bank appears to be closed for the day. And as I recall, it is customary to close banks on holidays."

Buck looked down the street, his eyes narrowing. "It ain't no holiday."

Ezra replaced his hat brim over his eyes. "Why don't we pretend it is."

"Get up, Ezra. Let's go check this out."

------------------------------

Chris could feel his horse's gait slowing to a halt.

"JD, you stoppin'?"

"It's getting dark."

The blond gunman snorted softly. It was all night as far as he was concerned.

"And I'm sure the horses could use a rest," JD persisted.

Chris merely nodded and dismounted. JD came around to his side and put Chris's hand on his elbow to be able to guide him.

"There's some rocks over this way, and a couple of trees. That should provide a little shelter from the wind. There's some water nearby, too, so I can refill the canteens and water the horses."

Chris smiled thinly. "Want me to make a fire?"

JD remembered the last time Chris had been around open flames. "Um, no. No, I'll take care of that first, so you can just sit here and relax." He waited till Chris was settled, then glanced around. "I'll get us some firewood."

"There's some cheroots in my saddlebag. Can you bring 'em with ya on your way back?"

"No…um…They aren't."

Chris groaned in frustration. "JD-I'm not going to light myself on fire just having a smoke!"

"I know!" JD defended himself hotly. "It's just…I had to make room, so I took them out."

"Room for what?"

"I…I put your gunbelt in there. Seemed like a safe enough place. And…you might want it."

Chris sighed. "You're a good man," he added gently. "A good friend…"

The young man paused. It was rare that any of the other six had ever acknowledged him as little more than a kid. And now this…and coming from a man he respected most…for a moment JD was struck speechless. He straightened slightly, squaring his shoulders.

"I'd best get that firewood."

"JD…"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

It was just a few minutes later that JD was cooking up some supper for them both. They ate in a companionable silence. JD glanced at Chris occasionally, watching him as he quietly sipped his coffee.

"Chris…?"

"Hm?"

"What's it like…being…you know."

Chris's first impulse was to snap at him, but he resisted it.

"Scary. Lonely. Empty."

JD pondered that moment. "Like…when your family-"

He let the sentence hang in the air. Chris turned that idea over in his mind.

"I reckon." He forced a smile. "I had a good friend nearby then, too…And I'm grateful."

------------------------------

Vin watched the dying embers of his tiny campfire. He reached out to the side, picked up a stick and jabbed at the ashes.

Even though every mile brought him further away from the town where he'd caused so much pain, it didn't ease his heart the tiniest bit. Seemed like the only way to take the pain away was to dance on the end of that noose.

Josiah was always natterin' on about Heaven and Perdition and Divine Justice and all. Vin was never a pious man, but now he wondered if Josiah would think he was goin' to Hell for what he'd done. He yawned sleepily.

No. Not Josiah. Josiah would quote some famous philosopher Vin had never heard of, and tell him about puttin' one's fate in God's hands.

Vin abruptly sat up a little straighter, feeling a little more awake than he had just seconds ago.

Maybe there was something to that. Suddenly he wondered if he was really running to something-or away from something.

He was headed to Tascosa to face something he hadn't done, and was headed away from facing something he had. And he couldn't live with that. Or die for it, either, for that matter. He turned on his side and waited for sleep. Come mornin', he'd put his fate in God's hand and go back to face the town, his friends…and himself.

------------------------------

Williams hunkered down carefully behind the rocks. Although he couldn't hear the voices of the two men, he could see them well enough in the flickering firelight. They were just bedding down for the night.

He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. They were headed straight for the rendezvous point. How did they know? Had she gotten careless? Said something to arouse the suspicions of some local constable or sheriff? Spent too freely somewhere? She'd better not have-at least not before he got his share.

Williams could tell by the way the smaller man looked after him that Larabee still couldn't see. So that much of the gossip was true.

Well, that made things easy.

He waited, patiently. Dunne seemed to be a bit restless. He got up from his bedroll and headed outside the edge of the waning firelight. Williams watched as the young man undid his fly.

Slowly, Williams crept from behind the rocks. The sounds of nocturnal animals covered his soft tread as he crept carefully toward JD, whose attention was absorbed in his own activity.

JD had just finished re-fastening his pants when a hand pressed roughly against his mouth and cold metal pressed against his temple.

"One sound and I'll splatter your brains," Williams said softly, his mouth by JD's ear. "Since you seem to be on your way to visit a mutual friend of ours, why don't you and me make the visit together?"

JD's hazel eyes widened.

"You're worried about your friend. Well, don't be. He'll be out of his misery soon enough. Now let's go."

------------------------------

"Move!"

JD complied, reluctantly. His mind was racing, along with his heartbeat. He couldn't leave Chris...but he had no choice. Chris was still asleep not far away. Out of the corner of his eye, JD could just see him laying on his side, his back to them. JD thought of shouting to him, but Williams would kill him before the sound could leave his throat.

"You're worried about your friend. I can tell," Williams sneered in a low voice. He turned suddenly and fired at Chris's sleeping form.

JD watched in horror as Chris's body jerked, and then went still.

Tears stung the young man's eyes and he fought to hold them back. He'd looked after Chris through all this as much and as best as he could. And now...He shouldn't have brought Chris out here, no matter how much he'd wanted to follow Vin. The others knew the danger and had refused. Once again, JD had messed up, and worse than he ever had in his life.

His shoulders slumped. It no longer mattered if he went with Williams. He just didn't care.

------------------------------

Chris didn't know if it was hours or days since he'd been shot. He had tried to hold on to consciousness but the fierce pain in his side made him breathe faster. And then his breathing just increased the pain.

It was daylight. He was sure of that. There was light and shadow where there had been only darkness before. At times, he'd thought he'd seen pinpoints of light, but he'd been afraid to believe it. He still couldn't make out shapes or colors, but he could see something.

And right now, he most wanted to see JD. Had JD been shot, too? Was he still alive?

Chris got up slowly, putting his hand to his aching side. His hand felt wet and sticky. He couldn't be sure, but he hoped the bullet had passed through. It was so close to his side, it was possible, he reasoned. He pushed it all out of his mind for now, instead reaching for where JD's bedroll should be.

It was empty. Damn!

Chris drew a breath that caused more pain to arrow through his side.

"JD?" he called.

No answer. He tried again, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"JD!"

If JD was nearby, he had to be either unconscious or dead. Chris sat there a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He couldn't see well enough to search for him. He flexed his fingers against the warm stickiness at his side.

He was alone. Alone in the middle of nowhere and unable to see his way to anywhere. Any direction could equally be the wrong one or the right one.

He couldn't stay here, either. One thing was sure, without his sight, or food or water, he wouldn't last long. He had to get help for himself and for JD. Or at least find someone to help bury the kid, if that was what needed doing.

The blond man stood on shaky legs. One of the horses nickered softly. Chris paused a moment to gauge direction, and then started for it, one hand out, the other holding his aching side. He knew he was getting close when he heard the animal move as he neared it. Suddenly he tripped and fell to his knees with a grunt of pain. Whatever it was, it moved slightly.

JD?

Chris put out his hand. No, it was his own saddle and saddlebags. Well, that was something, anyway. Reaching out with his bloodied hand while dragging the saddle with his good hand, he listened carefully as the animal moved restlessly. Chris managed to find his horse at last.

Summoning as much energy as he could muster, he lifted the saddle onto the horse's back. The pain in his side caused him to stop, gasping for air, before he could continue to saddle his horse. His hands shook as his energy drained away, and he hurried as fast as he could. He would need some resources left to get on the horse's back and ride.

He flung his lean body quickly into the saddle before crying out in agony. All this movement was making his injury worse, he was sure, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. With no choices left, he figured he'd just ride till he either found someone or someplace that could help him.

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Vin grew apprehensive as each mile brought him closer to town. What would he say to Chris? And would Chris even listen to him? He turned that over slowly in his mind. It didn't matter, he decided. He had to try anyway. Had to make him listen, somehow.

He nudged his horse a little faster, then suddenly slowed to a stop. Ahead in the distance was a lone figure on horseback, and whoever it was seemed to be moving in a strangely aimless sort of way.

Vin pulled out his spyglass to get a better look.

It couldn't be!

It was.

Chris.

What was he doing out here alone? And why was he reeling in the saddle like that?

Vin shoved his spyglass into his pocket and kicked his horse into a gallop, just as Chris toppled from his horse and ceased to move.