The Devil's Destiny---13

"N...not r...really," the blond answered and tried not to tense up as his friends lifted him off the floor. He held his breath as he was lifted from Tanner's grasp and carried the short distance to the bed. He breathed a sigh of relief as he was settled into the dry sheets and covered with a blanket. He felt a cup placed to his lips and drank the familiar tasting tea. He drifted towards sleep unaware of the makeshift tent being set up and the medicinal vapors he breathed in. The only thing that registered in his fevered mind was that he was safe and his friends would make sure he stayed that way.

Two days later Chris opened his eyes and looked around the small, but clean room. The heat he'd felt attacking his body every time he woke up no longer sapped his strength. He saw Mary Travis sitting in the chair by the window, her blonde hair framed in a golden halo of sunlight streaming in through the partially open blinds. He felt the familiar wheeze in his chest and waited for the coughing to begin anew. His breathing wasn't as bad now and he realized a lot of it had to do with his being able to cough up the crud from his lungs. He kept silent as he watched the woman across the room. He remembered bits and pieces of the last few days, but nothing seemed real. The only constants during that time was the agonizing pain in his body and the constant care of his friends and the woman now seated in the room with him.

He licked his lips and realized how dry his mouth and tongue were. He didn't want to disturb the newspaper woman, but he needed something to drink. He opened his mouth and was about to speak when he noticed the Texan standing in the doorway.

Tanner was surprised to see the twin green orbs gazing at him. The fever bright gaze that was present since they rescued the blond was gone. In its place was something Vin couldn't quite place. It was a cross between sadness and pain, with a touch of fear hidden in them as well. He understood all too well where each of these emotions came from, especially the fear. He remembered the look on Maguire's crazed face when they entered the cave. The man seemed to think they shouldn't have been there, that they had no right interfering with his plans or his destiny. Vin eased his lanky frame away from the door and walked to the bed. He sat on the edge and smiled at his friend.

"How do you feel?" he asked. He heard Mary Travis turn from the window and knew she was watching them.

"Tired."

"I bet ya are. How's the pain?" he asked as Larabee swallowed with some difficulty.

"It's not as bad as it was," he answered as Nathan Jackson came into the room. "Hello, Nathan," he muttered as the healer sat on the edge of the bed. He could see the exhaustion etched on the former slave's face and knew those lines were just as prevalent on the other's as well.

"Chris," he smiled as he reached out and touched the pale forehead and cheeks. "Feels like the fever's come down quite a bit."

"Not so hot," Larabee agreed.

"That's good, Chris. Now all we gotta do is build your strength back up and help you heal."

Larabee nodded and covered his mouth as he coughed. His chest still hurt, but it wasn't the agonizing torment it once was. His ribs were now the worst part as he held his arms against them. He groaned as he sat up straighter and tried to put the worried faces at ease. "It's okay. It d...doesn't hurt as much as it did," he told them.

"That's good, Chris," Jackson said as he turned to see Josiah enter the room with a cup in his hands. He took the cup and smiled at the ex-preacher before turning back to the pale man on the bed. "Drink this," he ordered.

"Horse..."

"Piss, yes that's what it is. Now don't start arguing already. Let's get this into you." He watched Larabee's eyes widen and knew what he was about to say. "No!"

"What?" the blond asked, a small grin on his face. He smiled as JD, Ezra, and Buck entered the room.

"No, you're not getting any whiskey so get that thought out of your mind right now."

"I d...didn't say I wanted whiskey," the blond told him.

"You didn't have too. I know that look and I know what it means. It means Chris Larabee is feeling better and it doesn't matter what Nathan Jackson says."

Larabee realized how many times those words would've been true. He lifted serious green eyes and met those of the man who worked so hard to save his life. Not just this time, but all the times over the last few years since they met that fateful day in the cemetery. He sent his trust through the gaze and spoke softly, using his eyes to encompass everyone in the room. "Not this time, Nathan. I thought that bastard was going to kill me. You won't get any arguments from me."

Jackson didn't like the almost defeated quality in the gunslinger's voice. He knew he needed to lighten the man's mood and he turned to look at the others in the room. "Okay, you guys heard him. The next time I tell him to eat, drink, rest, or sleep he'll do it without arguing." He saw the smile on Larabee's face and knew his patient understood what he was doing. "You do as I say, Chris, and won't be long until you're up and around. Now, I think it's time you drink this and go back to sleep."

"All I do is sleep," The voice growled weakly, but the eyes were soft and held a teasing light as he accepted the herbal tea and sipped it gratefully.

"I knew it was too good to be true," Jackson returned the grin, glad to see just a touch of the mischievous smile on the gunslinger's pale face. He watched the liquid disappear and the eyelids grow heavy. He reached out and took the cup from Larabee's hands and signalled for the others to leave the room.

"I'll stay with him, Nathan," Tanner said.

"Alright, Vin, the rest of you out."

Vin sat in the chair and watched the others file out of the room. He looked down at his healing hands and wondered if Maguire really was dead. In his heart he felt the man was truly out of their lives, but a small doubt niggled at the back of his mind.

"You're not sure."

The sharpshooter looked at the man on the bed and waited for his eyes to open before answering. "...purty sure, but..."

"Without seeing the body we'll never know for sure," he saw the shaggy head bob once and continued. "Vin, Maguire was crazy, but he believed in what he was doing. He really thought he could take my soul by t...torturing and finally killing me with his bare hands. That belief was strong in him right to the end. There's only one thing stronger than his belief and that's my belief in you, in the seven of us," Larabee insisted. "I really believe he's dead, but only because you told me what you saw," he said as he looked at the tracker's torn nails and scraped fingers and hands. "Them torn up hands tell me you tried long after anyone else would have kept at it." He paused and looked right through those deep blues, to Vin Tanner's soul. "I trust you, Tanner, anybody else, I'd have to see for myself. He's dead and he w...won't be c...coming b...back," Larabee wheezed. "It's done...leave it buried with him."

Tanner knew the injured man was at the end of his energy. The broken words at the end of the long speech told him the man needed to stop talking, catch his breath and sleep. He gently patted the right shoulder, knowing the gesture would be taken for what it was, a sign of friendship.

It wasn't long before Tanner heard the soft wheeze that signalled the injured man was sleeping. He sat back in the chair and realized Chris Larabee was putting all his faith in him, at least when it came to the serial killer's death. He sighed as he realized how much the blond's confidence in him meant. He smiled knowing no matter what happened he'd be there to help his friend heal both mentally and physically.

Over the next week Chris Larabee regained some of his strength and his body began the slow process of healing. He stayed in the bed, propped up on pillows, and talked with whoever was in the room with him. Mary Travis insisted on staying with him as much as anyone else and Chris was grateful for her company. He asked her about Billy and was glad to hear he child would be returning to Four Corners as soon as school let out. More often than not he'd fall asleep in the middle of a conversation as his still healing body grew weary with the least amount of spent energy.

Chris knew the others were worried about him and he knew it was because he didn't seem to be putting up much of a protest. He knew they were expecting him to argue about everything and normally he would have. Unfortunately his brush with death at the hands of the madman, the subsequent rescue and caring by his friends gave him a whole new outlook on life. He realized what he was feeling was self pity, yet he didn't know how to stop it. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep he found himself back in the cave and at Maguire's mercy. He closed his eyes as he remembered the look on Mary's face when he screamed as she'd touched his arm. The dream at that time was particularly vivid and he struck out, barely missing hitting her, as all he saw was Robert Maguire. When he realized it was Mary he turned away and wouldn't face her.

Vin and Buck noticed Larabee's sudden fear of sleeping and they decided it was time to talk to the gunslinger. It was time to bring everything out in the open. After talking with Nathan they arranged for everyone, including Mary Travis to be in the bedroom when Chris Larabee woke from his sleep.

Chris felt Maguire's breath in his ear as he whispered. "You're my destiny, Chris Larabee. Are you prepared to give me your soul?"

"No! My soul is my own...B...bastard...won't let you do t...this! Y...you're dead...can't hurt a...anyone anymore!""Oh, but I can, Chris. Why don't I start with this man!"

"NO!" the blond shouted as he saw Vin Tanner pulled towards the cave entrance.

"No, not him. Okay, what about Mary Travis or maybe Buck Wilmington or the man you think of as the healer?"

Faces swam before his eyes, faster and faster until there was no way to distinguish who was who. Tanner, Travis, Wilmington, Jackson, Sanchez, Standish, and Dunne all flowed past in one unintelligible mass. "No!" Chris cried, his chest heaving as he fought to bring air into his lungs once more.

"First they die and then you. You will watch as I kill each one, especially the beautiful Mrs. Travis. I think she should be first."

Chris watched as the scalpel rose high above Maguire's head and plunged towards Mary's exposed throat. "No, God damn you..."

"NO!"

Seven people gasped as they heard the bone-chilling cry from the man on the bed. Wilmington was the first to reach his friend. "Chris, come on, wake up, Pard, it's just a dream." He watched as the chest heaved and unfocused green eyes opened. "Look at me, Chris. That's it come on," he smiled as the eyes finally rested on him and he knew Larabee was seeing him and not something out of his nightmare. "Must've been some dream," he said.

"It was," the blond ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. He noted the others in the room and smiled thinly. "S...sorry," he apologized and coughed weakly. The attacks were a lot less frequent and shorter in duration, but they still affected his broken ribs.

"You've got nothing to apologize for, Brother," Sanchez assured him.

"Mr. Larabee, if anyone should be apologizing it's all of us for not realizing we had a maniacal killer in our midst. Mother would be appalled if she knew how easily I was taken in," Standish was once more hiding behind his natural facade.

"Chris, Mary found a newspaper clipping about Maguire," Tanner told him. "He's killed before"

"I know," Larabee informed them softly.

"You do?" Mary asked.

"He made sure I knew all about him," Larabee wouldn't meet their eyes, turning his head towards the window instead. "He killed his father."

"He killed others as well," Dunne piped in."

The blond nodded, but kept his eyes on the window, "He showed me a whip. The one he used on me. Told me it was new because he didn't want to use anything he'd used on anyone else on me. He said I really was his destiny and that once I screamed he'd have my s...soul," the gunslinger's voice caught on the last word. "He kept saying he'd know when the scream was real and that's when I'd die," he looked back at the group, unshed tears in his eyes. "I think I would've screamed before he killed me. I didn't want to. I fought it, but he kept hitting me..." he stopped as he saw Mary Travis and knew he couldn't go on with what he wanted to say.

Mary saw the look that clouded his face as he looked at her and realized she was the reason he stopped. She knew he needed to talk about this and he wouldn't with her in the room. He was too much of a gentleman for that. "Nathan," she waited for the healer to look at her. "I'm gonna finish making dinner. You guys keep Chris company."

"Thanks, Mary," Jackson said, his smile letting her know he knew why she was really leaving the room. He looked back at the gunslinger and waited for him to go on."

"J...just before you guys showed up he started using his fist. He told me it was the only way to get me to scream. I've been hurt before. Hell, I was beaten in the war when I was captured because I was the enemy and they thought they were right and I was wrong. The warden in Jericho prison had me beaten, but at least he had a reason. He did it for money. I've been shot in gunfights because someone wanted to prove they could take me down, but this bastard didn't do it for any of those reasons. There really was no reason. He thought I was his destiny..."

"You weren't, Chris," Sanchez told him. "Robert Maguire's only destiny lay with the devil and if I were a betting man I'd say he's smelling his own flesh burn in hell."

Larabee breathed in deep and looked at the older man. He could see the faith in the man's face and the belief in the words he just used. Those words spoken by a man who questioned his own faith held such force behind them that Chris felt the darkness begin to lift. The tight band around his heart began to lift as he looked from one face to another. With the injuries still fairly fresh on his body, and the memories still causing nightmares when he slept, he knew beyond a doubt that these men were his destiny. One that came together not because of someone forcing the issue, but by choice. A choice they'd all been given and one they'd embraced freely.

"Maguire was wrong."

"About what, Chris?" Tanner asked softly, seeing a new light in his friend's eyes.

"Destiny and what it means. He wanted to use force, but that wasn't the way. Destiny is something we recognize as given freely. The day the shot hit the whiskey bottle in my hand at the saloon was the first step to meeting my destiny. No devils involved, no force, no pain. Just six men I was destined to meet. My life changed on that dusty street in Four Corners because Vin Tanner, Nathan Jackson, Ezra Standish, Buck Wilmington, Josiah Sanchez, and JD Dunne happened to be drawn to a town filled with the bad element. Something drew us all there and I think it really was destiny. Our destiny."

"That's a very profound bit of wisdom, Brother. I could never have said it better myself," Sanchez grinned from ear to ear as he saw the life come back in Chris Larabee's eyes.

Silence fell over the group of men as they realized the impact of Larabee's words. It really was destiny that brought them all together and helped form the unlikely friendship. No matter what happened in the coming years that bond of friendship would be there. Through hell or high water each man vowed to be a part of the Magnificent Seven as they were now known as.

TBC