A/N: I've had a great day—it's my birthday, I was treated to an incredible dinner by my sweet husband, treated well by all my coworkers, and I managed to get not only this chapter done, but the start of another story as well! Hopefully the chapters don't seem too rushed, but I'm pretty happy with them, so I think we're okay.

Just a couple of quick notes on this chapter: this is the longest chapter I have ever written for any story, and this chapter is what I would describe as 'Papa Ben angst.' More pieces are beginning to fall in place, but right now I can't tell you how much longer it is going to take to wrap it all up.

Thanks to everyone who has left me a review, favorited, or followed. You guys are great!

Anyway, enough talking, let's get on with the story!

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It was the cramping in his back muscles that roused him at first, and he groaned softly as he tried to shift his position to ease the pain. Unable to move freely, Adam groggily opened his eyes, yawning widely as his eyes focused on the worried face looking back at him.

'Good morning, son,' his father's face smiled tiredly, but Adam could see that the smile didn't reach the worried dark eyes. Ben nodded his head to the window, and Adam followed his gaze to see the first streaks of daylight starting to light the dark sky. 'At least, it's almost morning.'

Adam dropped his gaze down to the weight in his arms, sighing deeply as the little boy he still held shifted fitfully in his sleep. The memories of the previous night rushing back to him, he felt a lump forming in his throat as he lifted haunted eyes up to his father's face.

'Pa, I…what's going to…?'

'Hush, son,' Ben whispered softly, gazing fondly at his oldest son as his hand brushed over the young man's hair and down his cheek. Adam's eyes widened slightly at the welcome, albeit somewhat uncommon, showing of his father's affection. 'I have to thank you, son.' Ben's voice cracked as he turned quickly away. 'You did good, son…you got to him so fast…I don't know what would have happened if…'

'Pa, I…' Adam raised his voice slightly to try and halt his father's pain-filled rambling, the volume behind his words causing the form in his arms to shift restlessly. 'Pa, you can't think like that. Joe's here, he didn't get hurt. Whatever is going on, we're going to take care of it…please, Pa, don't do this.'

'No, Adam,' Ben's eyes turned back to his son's, pleading with him to understand. 'Let me do this, please. I need to say it out loud.' He looked pointedly at his son. 'Thank you.'

'Oh, Pa,' Adam sighed, giving his father a soft smile. 'You don't have to thank me. You know that nothing would have stopped me from taking care of Joe.' He groaned again as another cramp seized his back, and Ben smiled sympathetically.

'Your back hurt, son?' Ben couldn't stop the soft chuckle as Adam blushed slightly, the quick bob of his head confirming what Ben already knew. 'I'm not surprised.' He turned his attention to his middle son, Hoss still precariously perched on the edge of the bed. He nudged the boy softly, and Hoss snorted in his sleep as he tried to pull away from the offending touch. Ben's voice was gentle as he called to the boy. 'Hoss, wake up son.'

Hoss stirred then, his pale eyes blinking dazedly open. Slowly becoming aware of where he was, his eyes widened in surprise as he lost his precarious balance on the bed, and he went tumbling to the floor, landing with a resounding thud. Adam and Ben shared an amused look as the burly teenager, no longer sleepy, sat up quickly, still on the floor, moaning as he rubbed his back.

'Dang it, Pa!' The boy's voice grumbled in a muffled whisper. 'Why'd ya have to go and scare a fella like that!' Suddenly remembering what had happened the night before, he looked back up quickly, his eyes darting back and forth between his father and older brother, concern evident in the pale orbs. 'Pa, how's Joe doin'? What…' he gulped quickly as he stared at his little brother; Joe had somehow managed to stay asleep through all of the noise. 'What happened last night? Why'd Joe go out the window like that?'

Ben sighed as he looked at his two older sons, the amused smile wiped from his face. Both looked worriedly back at their father, and Ben could see Adam tightening his hold on the little boy still cradled in his arms. Knowing he couldn't keep anything from his boys, and not really wanting to do so anyway, he rubbed his hand wearily over his red, tired eyes and began slowly.

'I think Joseph is remembering something that happened to him,' he started, and he could see Adam nodding his head in agreement. 'He doesn't seem to remember anything while he's awake, it is only when he is asleep that his mind tries to remember. I think the nightmares are him remembering, and I think they would scare him so much that it would wake him up.' Ben looked at his youngest sadly before turning his attention back to the older boys' concerned faces. 'My best guess is that the medicine to help him sleep is keeping him from waking up from the nightmares, and not being able to wake up scared him even worse.' He shuddered at the thought of the little boy trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape the torment of the dream. 'He was trapped in the nightmare…'

'And his body was trying to escape,' Adam whispered, hugging the still-sleeping Joe tighter. The room grew silent as they thought on what had just been said.

'P-pa?' Finally breaking the heavy silence, Hoss's trembling voice was scared and had a little boy innocence to it that Ben hadn't heard in years. Ben gazed intently at his middle son, seeing the pain and confusion in the worried eyes. 'Pa, whaddya think happened to him? Ya think it's when he was missin' and you found him at Eagle's Nest?'

'And what about Timmy Rawlins?' Adam's voice was quiet and controlled, but Ben could hear the fear in the calm words. His eyes locked on his father's, and Ben couldn't turn his gaze away. 'Nobody ever saw him again after that time, Pa. It's like he disappeared one day and never came back.'

'I've been trying, all night, to remember that day…what happened right before Joseph disappeared,' Ben openly admitted, watching his sons' faces as he continued slowly. 'I just can't be certain. It is possible Timmy was here that day, but I just don't know. I don't remember seeing him…if only I'd paid better attention…maybe…'

'Do ya think Joe saw somethin' happen to Timmy?' Hoss's voice was calm, his question redirecting his father back to the situation at hand, and Adam shot his brother a grateful look. They both could hear the guilty undertone to their father's voice, and they knew it wasn't going to help their situation any if he began to blame himself for something that had happened years ago. 'Is that what this is all about?'

Ben threw up his hands in frustration, shaking his head in defeat as he admitted his lack of insight. Before Ben could return to wallowing in his own self-doubt, Adam spoke up again, quickly.

'Whatever it was that happened, it seems like Joe's remembering more of it each time,' the young man observed, his brow creased thoughtfully. 'He's never done this before,' he nodded his head towards the window, indicating the sleepwalking. 'The nightmares keep getting worse.'

Ben thought for a second, and, mind made up, he quickly stood, moving towards the bedroom door. His hand on the knob, he turned back around to address the boys still sitting on the bed. 'I'm going to get one of the hands to go and get Doc Martin. Then, I'm coming back up here. You boys will then go to your rooms and you will get some sleep. Real sleep.' He frowned sternly as he saw the looks of protest on the two older boys' faces, the look on his face plainly showing there was no room for argument. 'I mean it, you boys need your rest. I will be right back, and then you will go. Do we understand each other?'

Once seeing their reluctant nods of agreement, Ben made short work of going down and finding Charlie, instructing him to send one of the hands to town to fetch the doctor. Pale rays of sunshine were just breaking over the tree line as he went back into the house, moving quickly up the stairs towards his youngest son's room. Standing in the doorway, as he took in the scene in front of him, all he could do was shake his head, a slight smile ghosting his features.

'Well, boys,' his voice whispered softly as he moved to sit back down in the chair next to the bed, 'I guess you got your way after all.'

He smiled again, pride glowing in his tired eyes, as he reached his hand out and tenderly cupped his little boy's cheek in his palm, brushing his fingers gently across Joe's sleep-flushed skin. Trying to make himself comfortable in the chair, he returned to his silent vigil over his three boys. Now sleeping themselves, the two older ones had returned to their cramped positions, curled protectively around their little brother.

'Who was I kidding anyway? They always get their way.'

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'So what are you telling me?'

Doctor Martin bit his tongue and waited patiently as Ben paced the length of the main room. Sympathetic to the worry he could see plainly written on the man's face, Paul continued to wait and gave his old friend a minute to compose himself. Once Ben had stopped his agitated movement, the good doctor addressed his friend slowly and carefully.

'Well, Ben, it appears that the medicine I gave you for Joe to take has been the cause of his current problems, just as you thought.' Ben frowned at this, and Paul hurried to reassure him. 'I checked him over thoroughly. After examining him, I see no reason to believe that he will have any long-term effects from the dosage. He should be free from any lingering effects of the medicine in a day or two.' He paused a moment as Ben audibly sighed in relief. 'But the sleepwalking does give me cause for some concern. As much as I know he needs the sleep, I feel that the best course of action at this time is to stop the medicine. Right now it seems to be doing him more harm than good.'

'Is there anything else you can give him?' Ben's voice was pleading. 'He seems to be getting worse each day, and the nightmares are stronger every night. God, Paul…he was up on the roof!' Ben shuddered as the picture of his son on the peak of the roof came back to his mind. 'He…he could have been killed!' He ran his hand anxiously through his hair as he turned desperate eyes towards his friend. 'There has to be something you can do for him, anything…'

'Is he talking about what the nightmares are about, has he mentioned anything at all?' Paul questioned, frowning when Ben dejectedly shook his head. The doctor sighed and put his hand on Ben's shoulder in an effort to comfort him. 'Whatever it is that is troubling him, he needs to talk about it.' A thought coming to him, he asked suddenly, 'when is Hop Sing returning home from his trip? He might be able to get Joe to talk about it. He's always had a way with that boy.'

'He should be back in a day or two,' Ben sighed, thinking of his long-time housekeeper and friend. Hop Sing had been away visiting family on an extended vacation, and while all of them had been missing the wiry man, the separation had been especially hard on the youngest Cartwright. Since Hop Sing had been a part of the family even before Joe's birth, and thus had known the little boy from the minute he'd been born, a special kinship had been built between the two, allowing for a special closeness and communication style that no one else in the family could duplicate.

'Well,' Paul said thoughtfully, 'once he's back, have him make one of his teas to help Joe sleep; I don't want to prescribe anything else at this point.' As much as he had tried in the past to deny it, he had to admit that sometimes Hop Sing's herbal remedies were better than his modern medicine. 'Until then, try to get him to talk about it.'

When Ben made out to protest, Paul gave him a stern yet sympathetic stare. 'He needs to remember, Ben. It might seem cruel to push him to remember, but letting Joe keep fighting against the memories is only going to make it worse.' He paused again to give Ben a moment to register what he'd just said before rushing into the last piece of his advice. 'And you need to act normal around him. Even better, get him back into his regular routine. Chores, responsibilities, school…I heard from Adam that you had thought about keeping him out of school for the short-term, but I don't think that is a good idea.'

'But Paul, I…' Ben's words died in an indignant huff as the good doctor simply raised his hand and shook his head. He stared sharply at his friend. 'I need to be here for him, be with him, you know that.'

'Yes, Ben, I do,' Paul said sympathetically, but unyielding in his recommendation. 'But the best thing for that boy of yours is to have normalcy. He's had too much time to sit and worry, and your hovering doesn't help.' He gave Ben a thoughtful, solemn stare. 'I really think that distracting him with normal activities will help. It might even get him to start talking, remember things. Didn't he remember something from one of the nightmares when he was out riding with Adam?'

'Yes, but Paul,' Ben's voice was indignant as he tried to persuade his old friend. 'That's what brought this all on in the first place! He remembered something, and the next minute, he was up on the top of the roof, scared to death!'

'You're convinced that Joe's nightmares have to do with something that happened to him, something traumatic that he's tried to forget, and he's actually repressed the memory as a way of protecting himself,' Paul thought out loud. He saw the frown on Ben's face and hastily continued. 'Don't worry, I agree with your diagnosis.' He smiled slightly at the weak joke, and was immensely relieved when Ben followed suit. His voice lowered and his next words were meant to encourage. 'He's a strong boy, Ben. He's survived through whatever this is thus far, and I have no doubt in my mind that he will be back to his old self soon. Besides,' he chuckled softly as he heartily slapped his friend's back, 'he's got his whole family here for him. You all being here is going to go a long way in helping that boy, Ben.'

Ben refused to be pacified so easily, and he stepped back towards the fireplace, staring into the fire. He absently ran a hand across his tired face and sighed. He could only hope, and his response echoed that thought.

'I sure hope you're right, Paul. I really do.'

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Ben stood on the front porch as he watched Paul ride away into the morning, his hand raised absently in a wave of farewell. Watching his father's expression from a distance, it wasn't until the doctor had disappeared down the road that Adam silently moved to stand next to his father.

It had been Doctor Martin's arrival in Joe's bedroom that had awakened Adam for good; his little brother still sleeping in the young man's arms. Even as Paul had tried to shoo them out of the room, both he and Hoss had stayed with their father at Joe's bedside throughout the whole examination. Ben and the doctor had excused themselves soon after to retreat downstairs to discuss things, and the look on Ben's face had told Adam that his responsibility was to remain with the slumbering child. Joe, still exhausted from his ordeal the night before, had barely opened his eyes during the doctor's ministrations, and once Paul had left, the little boy had easily fallen back into a deep sleep. Adam couldn't help the small smile at the defenselessness on the features of the sleeping child, knowing that Joe needed the rest more than any medicine the doctor could give him. Hoss, too, had become drowsy and had nodded off in the chair their father had vacated, leaning forward his head had dropped down on the bed next to his brother.

The door opening and shutting downstairs alerted Adam to the departure of the doctor, and leaving his brother's room he moved silently down the stairs and out the front door.

'Pa?'

He waited for his father to turn slowly around, and Adam could see the conflict in his father's eyes as he debated to himself just how much he should tell his older son. Adam's face broke out into a hesitant, proud smile as he saw his father's decision, and Ben echoed with a muted smile of his own, sighing heavily before he finally began to speak.

'There's not much that Paul can do for him,' Ben said softly, turning away from his son to stare back out at the trees. 'He says we need to act as if everything is normal, give your brother a normal routine.' His voice broke in a short, angry laugh as he slammed his hand against the railing. 'Like we can pretend that any of this is normal!'

Adam didn't have any words of comfort for his father, but he laid his hand tentatively on his father's shoulder as he, too, turned to stare out into the morning. After what seemed like a long time, Ben shifted his weight and looked back at his son.

'Your brother?'

'He's okay, Pa,' Adam replied quickly, still watching the tense expression on his father's face. 'He's still sleeping. Hoss is with him, he's alright.' He shrugged his shoulders slightly in resignation. 'Sleep's probably the best thing for him, anyway.'

Ben studied his son's face for a moment, before turning his eyes slowly to stare vacantly at the house. Adam just waited patiently, knowing his father needed a moment to sort his thoughts out. He was rewarded for his patience when his father's gruff voice cut through the silence.

'I'm heading into town to talk to Sheriff Coffee,' Ben said quietly, the intenseness clouding his face again. His next words served as a charge to his oldest son. 'Adam, you and Hoss, I want you to keep an eye on your brother. Try to get him to talk about something, anything. I'll be back in a while.' He choked on the words as he continued to stare at his son. There was so much more that he felt he needed to say, but he just couldn't seem to get the words out.

Stepping off the porch and beginning to stride rapidly across the yard to the barn, Ben stopped about halfway between the house and the barn and turned to again face his oldest son. His face was tired, and his smile was grim, but the words he spoke were forceful and full of meaning.

'Take care, son.'

Adam watched until his father disappeared into the barn, then turned slowly and went back into the house. He had understood the unspoken message in his father's voice, could feel the fear that had been radiating from his normally fearless father. His own emotions threatening to get the better of him, he stood motionlessly in the doorway as he tried to focus his swirling thoughts. After a long moment, he finally moved to close the door behind him, his eyes catching sight of the gun belt and holster lying on the credenza, protecting the Colt revolver that he'd been so proud of. Adam had never been one to wear a gun regularly while he was close to home, usually reserving the weapon's appearance for when he needed to go to town or when he was out working away from the house. With all that had been going on, there hadn't been much time lately for hunting or even for target practice, leaving the Colt to sit rather forlornly and abandoned on the credenza. Running his fingers over the gun's smooth surface, he let his thoughts wander over everything that had happened in the month since his birthday.

'Don't worry, Pa,' he whispered softly. Making a decision, he took the gun belt up and secured it firmly around his waist. 'I won't let you down. I promise.'

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The small man had woken in the dead of night, unsure at first as to what had startled him. Even as no obvious source showed itself, he continued to sit silently, listening for whatever it was that had awakened him. It was at that moment, in the oppressive silence, that the first wave of foreboding washed over him. It was nothing that he could explain to anyone else, but he knew the signs, they'd come to him before. And they were not known to be wrong. Knowing what he needed to do, with all thoughts of sleep quickly abated, he moved to pack his few belongings, glad for the fact that he always traveled lightly.

Something was wrong with his family.

He'd known the Cartwrights for over ten years. They were no longer just employers; they were friends, family even. And family was held in high esteem; he should know, as he had more men he considered brothers than anyone he knew. It was an honor to have such family, and honor and noble virtues were given the utmost of respect. It was a respect he was proud to say ran both ways—he knew they felt it as much as he.

It was true he had threatened to leave them to their own devices many times before, but his intent had always been the same. The threats were really only for show, only used when he was angry. They had a way about them, his adopted family; hurting themselves, hurting each other, being careless in their daily interactions. His threats were always well-timed: aimed to make them take pause to think, giving them the time they needed to make things right again.

Something had been wrong for a while, and he'd been worried even as he'd left on his trip to San Francisco. There had always been something about the youngest—the devious nature in which he pulled his pranks, which he himself had often been privileged to have a part in; the seemingly endless stream of questions as he inquired about every aspect of life; the brilliant green eyes that shone with excitement every time he was the recipient of a compliment. Yes, the youngest certainly had the whole family under his spell, and as a proud member of that family, he too had fallen victim to the child's enchantments. And even as he feigned annoyance when the child dared to enter his domain, he knew the boy was aware that it was just another part of the game the two of them enjoyed.

He could just feel that the boy was in trouble; he'd seen the signs even as he had prepared to leave. Gone was the inquisitive, bright eyed child—in his place, just a shadow. Listless, sullen, withdrawn, the boy he knew so well had simply ceased to be. He had hoped that someone would notice, that someone would see that the little one was suffering, but they had been oblivious as always. He clicked his tongue angrily at the thought—how men with perfectly good eyesight could sometimes be so blind.

Yes, he needed to get back to them, and quickly. While he might not admit it to them directly, he missed his family. Mind made up, Hop Sing threw his bag over his shoulder and turned to leave. His family needed him, and he wasn't going to keep them waiting any longer than necessary.

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Ben strode briskly down the sidewalk, his frustration evident as he stomped his way down to the general store. Having stopped first at the sheriff's office, he had been rather dismayed to find that Roy Coffee had not been there. Too impatient to sit and wait, and since it had been several days since they had last picked up the mail, he made his way towards the post office that was located in the general store. He'd just pushed open the door to enter when a burly figure bumped right into him, sending him sprawling. Catching himself before he fell down, he looked up to see what he had run into, his eyes narrowing in a fierce glare when he recognized the figure in front of him.

'Mr. Cartwright, I'm indeed sorry,' Daniel Ashcroft apologized stiffly, a strange light in his eyes as he slowly smiled at the man he had stumbled into. 'Please excuse me.'

Ben stood motionless as he continued to stare at Ashcroft, his eyes widening as his anger started to build. Daniel Ashcroft stared right back at him, the small smile growing larger. A mixture of contempt and something else that he just couldn't explain, that smile sent a wave of revulsion surging through Ben's body. Fighting the urge to use his fist to wipe the smirk off of the man's face, he used every ounce of his self-control to growl out his response.

'Mr. Ashcroft,' he muttered, not even bothering to try and disguise his obvious disgust. Taking a step backwards, he stared defiantly at Ashcroft, radiating anger. He moved to go around the offending man, lowering his eyes to the floor so he wouldn't have to look at him, when the shadow of the man moved towards him, effectively blocking his path. Ben looked up again, his eyes blazing.

'What is it you want, Ashcroft?' he growled fiercely, his hands clenching tightly into fists. The man was directly in front of him again, the unnerving smile still on his face. Ashcroft didn't say anything for a moment, causing Ben to shake with rage. 'Get out of my way!'

Ben could feel eyes watching him, but he scarcely paid attention to the townspeople standing in the store, gaping in disbelief at the unfolding altercation. He heard the storekeeper's bell jangle cheerily as the front door quickly opened and shut behind him, but he couldn't make his mind process anything but the cold rage he felt towards the man in front of him.

'How's your son doing, Mr. Cartwright?' The man's eyes practically gleamed as he asked the question.

'What did you just say?' Ben's voice was deadly.

'Is he alright?' Ashcroft completely ignored the venom in Ben's voice, his face slowly breaking out into a large, predatory grin. 'I heard he's been having some terrible nightmares…have you been able to find the cause of the poor boy's suffering?'

Ben stared at the man, dumbstruck. He was having trouble getting his mouth to work properly, and he stuttered painfully. 'W-what…h-how did y-you…?'

'Oh,' Ashcroft continued blithely, seeming to enjoy the barrage of emotions displaying on Ben's face. 'The people in this town are real friendly. They'll practically tell you anything you want to know, especially if you ask them nice enough.' He chuckled at his own joke, and then his eyes became hard and distant as he stared at Ben. His voice was cold and abrupt. 'And I like asking questions.'

Ben felt his chest tightening, and his breath came out in ragged gasps as cold fear overtook the rage he'd been feeling. He couldn't think, couldn't move as he continued to stare at the man in front of him. Ashcroft was watching him intently, almost daring him to make a move.

'I take your silence to mean you haven't yet,' the man scoffed as he answered his previous question himself. He sighed with mock pity. 'Poor boy.'

Ashcroft casually strolled over to the counter, leaning his elbow on the smooth surface. He turned back to the dumbstruck man in front of him.

'You know,' Ashcroft suddenly laughed, his voice dripping with venom, 'maybe you should just tell that kid of yours to grow up a little. Sounds like he's nothing but trouble, needs to learn about life…' He grinned coldly at Ben before turning his back and calling over his shoulder, 'Maybe somebody should teach him, you know?'

The words sent a blazing charge of anger through Ben's body, suddenly pushing him forward in a surge of blind rage. Taking two steps forward, he reached out and grabbed the man, spinning Ashcroft around to face him. Holding him by the collar, he began to shake the man harshly, shouting out his words between harsh, angry breaths.

'If you…so much as…come NEAR my son…' Ben choked on the words as he shook the man harder, 'I promise you…you won't be able to hide…I'll follow you to the ends of the earth…do, do you understand me?!'

Ben's vision was blurring, fear and rage causing him to tremble as he shook the man in his grip. Ashcroft was not fighting his attacker; he stared calmly at Ben, chuckling coldly as he saw the torment in Ben's eyes. The sneering sound pushed Ben over the edge, and, his emotions reaching a breaking point, he lifted his fist and sent it sailing towards the man's face, connecting solidly with Ashcroft's jaw.

Ashcroft stumbled backwards, his eyes widening as Ben's rage continued to burst forth. Just as Ben reached out to grab hold of Ashcroft again, strong arms latched onto him, pulling him backwards and away from Ashcroft.

'Ben, stop!' Sheriff Roy Coffee's harsh voice demanded as he continued to pull Ben away from Ashcroft. The man stood quietly, leaning against the counter as he wiped at his bloody lip. Ben was thrashing in Roy's grasp, trying to get away.

'Roy, let me go!' Ben yelled angrily, trying to pull away from Roy's grasp as he lunged at Ashcroft again.

Roy shook his head and moved to the door, using Ben's own momentum against him as he succeeded in shoving the angry man out of the store and into the waiting arms of a deputy. Slamming the door behind him, Roy turned to glare at the unnervingly calm man standing in front of him.

'What's going on here?!' he demanded harshly, looking at Ashcroft suspiciously.

The man looked up at the sheriff, his eyes narrowing slightly. His voice was cool and collected when he finally spoke.

'It was just a misunderstanding, I can assure you. I'm sorry for the disturbance.'

Roy was surprised at the man's words, and continued to study the man suspiciously. 'Are you sure there's nothing more to that?' he asked gruffly, still not convinced.

'I assure you, Sheriff,' Ashcroft said rather absently, moving to the window to stare out at the street. An unexplainable thoughtfulness came into his eyes as he watched Ben's continued fighting with the deputy leading him towards the sheriff's office. He turned back to the sheriff, his face unreadable. 'I give you my word. This will not happen again.'

Not satisfied with the answer, but unable to find a reason to drag the man to his office, Roy just huffed his annoyance and walked out of the store, slamming the door behind him. Ashcroft turned back to the window, watching the sheriff walking towards his office across the street. No one left in the store heard the man mumbling to himself.

'I assure you, Sheriff, it won't happen again.'

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'What do you mean there's nothing we can do?!'

Ben's voice echoed loudly through the small sheriff's office, and the sheriff winced at the sound. Roy had been met upon his return to his office by a very agitated Ben Cartwright. Needing some answers, and seeing as the other party in question hadn't told him anything useful, Roy had tried to get some information out of his friend. Needless to say, he hadn't gotten very far, what with Ben's current emotional state.

'That…that Ashcroft…' Ben spit the name out contemptuously as he glared at his old friend, 'has been all over town, Roy!'

'Now, Ben,' Roy began warily, pinching the bridge of his nose in anticipation of what the reaction was going to be when he continued, 'you know for a fact that he hasn't done anything warranting my intervention…'

'He hasn't done anything?!' Ben stared at his old friend, incredulous, his face flushing in rage. He moved quickly to stand right in front of the sheriff, shaking his fist right in his face. 'He's been asking all over town about my son…MY SON…and you tell me he hasn't done anything?!'

'And so far, all he's been doing is asking,' Roy countered coolly, knowing they weren't the words his friend wanted to hear. 'It's not against the law for a man to be making conversation…'

'Making conversation,' Ben muttered angrily, clenching his fists in anger as he again paced the small jailhouse office. He stopped and again glared at his friend. 'Just what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Wait for him to act on his 'conversation'? He's talking in threats, he threatened my son, Roy,' his voice trembled as he spoke. 'You know it, we all know it.'

'Ben, I…' Roy's words died on his lips as his friend began to pace again. Truthfully, he knew that Ben was right, the man was acting in a way he found suspicious, and it bothered the seasoned lawman. But if Roy Coffee was one thing, he was dedicated to his sovereign duty to uphold the law. Regardless of how he felt about it, no laws had been broken by the man, and his hands were tied in the matter.

'Well then, I'm telling you now,' Ben's voice was deadly as he turned to stare coldly at his friend. 'I'm telling you right now, if that man comes near my son, I will not hesitate to…'

'Ben!' Roy's eyes flashed fire as he shouted angrily. 'You coming in here talking about vigilante justice…it won't work, and you know it!' He grabbed at his friend's shoulders and tried to shake some sense into the man, but Ben pulled angrily away. 'You're just lucky that man didn't press charges! You attacked him, after all!' Roy saw his words having little effect, and tried again. 'The law is the law, you know that! Be reasonable, man!'

'Reasonable…' Ben muttered dismally, his anger dissipating as fear began to take over. He dropped wearily into the chair by the woodstove, resting his head in his hands. Sighing heavily, he took a moment to compose himself and then lifted determined eyes to meet those of one of his oldest friends. 'Have you been able to find out anything about him?'

'Not much, I'm afraid,' Roy shrugged apologetically. He'd been keeping his eye on Ashcroft ever since the day that Joe had collapsed in the street. While Ben Cartwright was known for the way he fiercely protected his family, it wasn't an unknown fact that the youngest Cartwright had others wrapped around his finger, too. Roy had always had a special fondness for the young boy, and ever since he'd heard Ashcroft mention Joe Cartwright, he had kept sharp surveillance on the man. 'He came into town about two weeks ago. Doesn't do much, just talks a lot,' he continued. 'Asks lots of questions; I hear that most of them are about things that happened quite a ways back.'

Ben nodded dejectedly at the expected, yet not hoped for, news and put his head back down in his hands. When he lifted his head again, Roy could see the visible tiredness in his friend's eyes, Ben's face pinched and looking old. Ben's voice was rough with emotion when he asked his next question.

'Did he mention Timmy Rawlins?'

Roy's eyes dropped and he looked down at the floor, an uncomfortable silence falling between the two old friends. He'd been hoping that the rumors circulating around town could have been kept from Ben, but it appeared that was not going to be the case. He coughed, and nodded his head slowly.

'Roy,' Ben's voice rasped as he stared intently at the sheriff, 'what happened…what happened to that boy? What's this man trying to find, and what…what does it have to do with my son?'

'Timmy disappeared, as you know,' Roy began, watching his friend uneasily. Ben nodded, and Roy continued carefully. 'By the time that loving father of his got around to reporting him missing, any trail there might have been had gone cold.' He sighed his disgust; the memory of those few weeks still haunted him. 'We never did find him.' His voice was wooden, and the excuse he provided sounded weak even to his own ears. 'What with that stage robbery and then the boy disappearing…well, there just weren't enough men to search…'

Roy's voice faded off into a contemplative silence. In all of his years as a lawman, there were some things he'd witnessed in the execution of his duties that he would give anything to forget. Timmy Rawlins' disappearance was just one of those things.

Roy sighed again as the memories came flooding back. It had started out with the shockingly bold daylight robbery of the San Francisco-bound stage. The attack had happened right at midday. The coach had stopped for a lunch break at Eagle station, just a few miles outside of Virginia City. Especially brutal, the attack had left the stage driver and one male passenger dead. Roy had learned later that the dead passenger had been carrying a considerable amount of money with him, mostly in gold that had been stored in the stage's lockbox. The other passengers had been too traumatized by the ordeal to be of much help, although they all had been able to confirm that there had been only one robber, making the whole attack all the more daring.

From then on things had only continued to get worse; just a few hours after the robbery, Adam had ridden into town, panicked with the news that Joe was missing and that they needed help in searching for him. Forced to divide his resources, Roy had done his best to cover both the youngest Cartwright's disappearance and the stage robbery. He had been able to feel a slight measure of relief in the fact that Joe had been found, seemingly no worse for wear, early the next morning.

That had been the only good news. Making the decision to stay and help Ben search for his lost child, the search for the man who'd held up the stage had fallen apart. The men he'd sent after him had lost the trail once the man had moved further up into the mountains. Roy had been in the process of reorganizing the men in an attempt to try and pick up the trail again when Jacob Rawlins had finally wandered into town. After a visit to the saloon, in which the man had quickly gone and gotten himself into trouble, Rawlins had been forced to visit the sheriff, and that was when he had somewhat reluctantly told the sheriff that Timmy had disappeared.

The man's lack of emotion as he spoke of his son was what had unnerved Roy from the start; Jacob Rawlins seemed indifferent to the fact that his son was missing. Roy had had half a notion at the time that the man himself had been somehow responsible, but with no evidence, he hadn't been able to move on the theory. Forced to work with little to go on, and despite his best efforts, no trace of the boy had ever been found. The stage robbery had never been solved either, and then there had been the terrible news just a few days later that Marie Cartwright had been killed in a horse-riding accident…

'I never knew…I never knew that that boy had disappeared,' Ben muttered, and Roy was jolted from his thoughts. Giving his friend a sharp stare, he noticed the guilty look on Ben's face, and he couldn't stop the compassion that colored his voice.

'Ben, with all due respect,' the man said awkwardly, dismissively, 'you were dealing with so much at the time…it didn't seem appropriate to pull you into it…'

'A child was missing.'

Ben was distraught at the thought of a child lost. He shuddered as he remembered when Joe had been missing, the fear he'd felt, the overwhelming relief when he'd been finally found. His next thought terrified him.

What if it had been my son, missing and never seen again?

At the time, he'd been so wrapped up in his own grief, his own loss, he hadn't even taken pause to think about a small child, a child who had been friends with one of his sons. A little boy he'd never really taken the opportunity to get to know; if he'd only paid better attention, he would have seen the little boy had been neglected, maybe he could have protected him.

'He might have been at my house the day Joe disappeared, Roy. He might have been right there…if only I'd paid better attention…'

'Ben, you aren't responsible for any of this…'

'Responsible!' Ben shouted out angrily, jumping to his feet and kicking the wood box to vent some of his overwhelming frustration. He spun to stare at the sheriff, his eyes wide. 'Don't tell me I wasn't responsible! We are all responsible to keep the children in this town safe…all of them…' His words died on his lips and Roy lowered his eyes to the floor, dismally agreeing with his angry friend as he blinked rapidly to stop the mist beginning to form in his eyes.

Ben had turned to stare out of the window, willing his body to stop trembling as he struggled to regain control. Roy gave his friend a moment to compose himself, taking leave to sit at his desk. He lifted his eyes again when he heard the groan from his friend.

'Oh, dear God…'

Roy jumped in his chair as Ben's shoulders hunched, dread forming a lump in his throat that he tried to swallow as he stared at his old friend. Ben's face had gone white and he was shaking uncontrollably; Roy hadn't seen his friend so pale since Marie had died, and moving quickly, he put his hands on Ben's shoulders to steady him as he helped him to sit in the desk chair.

'Ben, what is it?'

'Ashcroft…he was asking about Timmy…' Ben looked up at his longtime friend with dull eyes. 'And Joseph. He…he thinks my son is involved in Timmy's disappearance, doesn't he?'

Roy stood there awkwardly, clearing his throat gruffly, not knowing what to say. Ben stared at him intently; any hope he'd felt that his friend would tell him he was wrong was short-lived; Roy was not disagreeing with him. He exhaled sharply.

'But why?'

Ben waited for a response, and getting none, asked again, an edge to his voice. 'Is that what you think? Do you thing Joseph was involved? Do you think my son had a part in Timmy's disappearance?!'

'Ben, of course not!' The anger in Ben's voice had startled him, and he spit out his words rapidly. 'Joe was five years old! If…if anything, even if Joe was with Timmy that day, he…he's…'

'What are you saying, Roy?'

Roy looked at the distraught man seated in front of him, one of his oldest friends reduced to a shell of his former self. Knowing his friend would blame himself regardless of what he said, Roy was careful with his next words. He looked at Ben, his eyes sad for his friend and for two small boys who had suffered through a terrible ordeal, an ordeal that even years later still refused to leave them alone.

'He's as much a victim in all of this as Timmy is.'

Ben groaned and lowered his head into his hands, the emotion overcoming him as tears slid unashamedly down his cheeks.

'Oh, son,' he whispered softly. He heard the gentle click of the jailhouse door as Roy wordlessly excused himself to give him some privacy. 'I promise…if it's the last thing I do, I'll find out the truth.'

He'd made up his mind, and nothing was going to stop him. Two little boys would get the justice they deserved, and nothing was going to get in his way.

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