"Yep, you got a sore throat." Nathan pronounced.
"I already told you that." Vin scowled. "Can't y'just make it stop hurtin'?"
"I'll give you something to gargle with, that'll help. Then you can drink some -"
"Gargle?" Vin pronounced it as though it was the strangest word he'd ever heard.
"Yes - gargle." Nathan's look was even more threatening than the pain in his throat, so Vin stayed quiet the rest of the examination.
"We takin' shifts to make sure Vin follows every last thing Nathan's telling him to do?" Buck asked.
"I'll watch him." Chris said firmly. They were leaning against the railing outside Nathan's clinic.
"He needs more than watching."
"You tellin' me my business?"
"I'm tellin' you Vin's business. You ain't gonna just sit back and watch him Chris. A whole week 'a that got him nowhere. Y'seen how he perked up in less than a day, actin' foolish and bein' fussed over."
"Vin don't want to be fussed over. I ain't gonna fuss over him." Chris thought Buck must've lost his mind. "He ain't JD, y'know."
"He don't gotta be JD -"
"Listen Buck -"
"Can't you two never be quiet?" Vin's voice from the doorway startled them into silence. He looked even more sickly, if that was possible, hands pulled up inside his sleeves, arms pressed close against himself for warmth.
"Who's takin' charge of the prisoner?" Nathan asked, standing behind Vin.
Buck started to answer, more to prompt Chris than because he intended to do it, and he was gratified when Chris spoke:
"I am."
And only Buck noticed the thankful look Vin turned up to Chris.
"All right, I done told Vin, 'less he wants to be locked up in my clinic, he's got to eat t'keep his strength up, he's got to stay warm - AND - he's got to sleep indoors for the time being."
Vin grumbled something then turned to look over his shoulder at Nathan.
"Damn ditch water."
"You take care of yourself Vin, and you won't need no more 'damn ditch water'. You remember that."
"Yeah."
Buck stepped forward. "Come on Doc. I'll buy you a drink, since I don't think Vin will..." They stepped past the other two and walked toward the saloon. When they were gone, Chris considered Vin - and Buck's words.
"Y'okay?" He asked.
Vin considered Chris - and the bits of conversation he'd overheard.
"Cold."
"C'mon, we'll head over to the boardinghouse. I'll start a fire in the stove, get you warmed up. Keep y'away from Nathan." Chris willed himself forward and put his arm around Vin's shoulders. "C'mon kid, let's go."
And Chris was graced with Vin's third smile of the week.
M7*M7*M7
Vin hated to be sick. Hated to sit with nothing to do, not even keep an eye out for any kind of trouble. No trouble brewing in Chris' room at the boardinghouse, unless it was the trouble Vin was getting himself into every time he tried to stir from the chair.
"You need help building that fire?" He asked. Chris had his back to him as he filled the woodstove with kindling and paper.
"No."
"Could get you the matches."
"Got 'em right here."
"More kindling?"
"No."
Vin tried to think of anything else that would get him out of that chair. Chris had already had him take off his hat and coat and boots, so there wasn't that to do anymore. He hated being sick. A piece of paper escaped Chris' hand and floated to the floor and Vin started to retrieve it. Chris had been a father long enough to have eyes in the back of his head.
"SIT."
So Vin sat.
"I ain't all that sick I got t'stay here if I don't want to." He muttered.
Chris heard him but ignored him. If Vin really wanted to leave, he'd be gone by now. He must be sick enough to stay. Sick enough to not feel good, not so sick that he wouldn't get restless.
Chris started the fire and adjusted the flue.
"You'll feel warmer in a minute or two." He said. "I'll get you a blanket ..."
Far from arguing about it, Vin welcomed the blanket and the warmth it promised.
"Thanks." He wrapped it around his shoulders and curled his hands into it. Chris sat in the other chair and for a little while the two men just stared at the flickers of fire visible through the chinks in the metal of the stove. After a few moments, Vin asked:
"Y'ever think about all y'ever been through in your life, every little thing good and bad ever been done to you, every person y'ever met, every step y'ever took in your whole life, and all it comes down to at this very moment is sitting here, staring a fire? Don't that seem odd? Like bein' blown from a hurricane into a forest fire and out the other side with not a scratch on you..."
"I wouldn't say without a scratch." Chris told him. Vin stared at him a moment.
"...I hate being sick." Was all he said. Till a few minutes later. "...just seems odd..."
"Well, I reckon this'll become one of those steps we ever took in our life that takes us to the next." Chris said. "Life ain't really days, anyway. All it ever seems to be is each step you take..."
"Sometimes it's days." Vin said. "Once I spent a whole day out by a stream. I remember the whole day. Nobody cared where I was, didn't nobody come lookin' for me. I remember the whole day." It sounded like should've been a happy memory so Chris thought it would be safe to talk about.
"What were you doing out by the stream all day?" He asked. The dark looked that crossed Vin's face told Chris he'd made a mistake.
"Nothin'..." Vin stared down at the blanket, and shifted it closer around himself.
Chris didn't know if he should pull back or forge ahead. But Vin wanted to tell somebody, wanted somebody to help him 'sort it out' like Josiah said.
"Chris? You remember you said, after my Ma's service, y'said I could talk to you -?"
"It was before..." Chris interrupted, and was instantly sorry that he had. What the hell difference did it make?
"What?" Vin looked up at him.
Chris shook his head. "Just - it wasn't after the service, it was a couple days before. It don't matter when it was..."
"Oh..." Vin lowered his eyes again and seemed to have to regroup his train of thought. "I'se just thinkin', maybe - maybe if I could figure out what I done wrong, maybe then I'd understand why."
"Why what?" Chris thought that might be an easy question - and answer - to get through. There were so many possibilities of things that Vin might've done wrong in his life - sorting through those could take years.
"Why I got the life I did..." Vin's voice had taken on that lifeless quality, no energy behind his words. "I'se so little, I can't make out what I musta done that was so bad I got to be treated like that. I never could figure it out when I'se a little guy. Tried real hard though. Just never could figure out what I was doin' so wrong."
All the reasons he hadn't wanted to talk to Vin suddenly reared up in Chris. For the first time, he realized that he just wasn't comfortable discussing Vin's childhood abuse. He didn't know why and he needed time to figure it out. He looked at Vin - and Vin was looking back at him with such trust and hope that Chris would help him finally get his demons figured out, Chris couldn't back down.
"Why were you at the stream that day?"
"I'se soakin' my hands..."
Chris automatically looked to Vin's hands, but they were hidden in the blanket. He didn't remember any scars or other signs of harm.
"All day?"
"Waitin' - waitin' for the swelling t'go down."
Lord, Chris didn't want to go here.
"What swelling Vin?" He asked when Vin didn't go on.
"When I'se little, just a real little fella, my Ma liked flowers. And I'd go pick her wildflowers whenever I found any. She always seemed to like 'em. She'd hug me, 'n tell me she loved me 'n that she couldn't never asked for no nicer little boy..."
He looked into Chris' eyes, wanting him to guess what happened, so that he wouldn't have to say it.
"What happened Vin?" He saw those tears welling up in Vin's eyes again.
"My grandmother - she always seemed in a sour mood. Hell, they both did, but I thought - I thought grandmother's at least were supposed to be - I thought they were supposed to be nice. Not her, always sour. Always what I shoulda done or didn't do or was gonna have to do. She just always seemed so disappointed in me...I figured givin' my Ma flowers always made her happy. Figured all I had to do was just give my grandmother some flowers 'n she'd be happy. There was wild flowers, real nice ones growin' over the fence to the McGinty's, so I picked her some." His expression grew darker, his voice more pained. "I give 'em to her. She asked where I got 'em from, so I told her..."
"And?" Chris asked unwillingly.
Vin closed his eyes, pressing against the tears. His voice was a small, pained whisper.
"She slammed the door on my hands for thievin'. Then told me to get outta her house till I'se done cryin'. Said she couldn't stand to hear it. So I went down to the stream and soaked my hands till the swelling went down. Soaked 'em till they were ice and I couldn't feel 'em no more." He didn't open his eyes again for the longest time.
Chris stared at Vin, as he sat silent and bowed under his memories. He didn't want to talk about it because it was sickening and there was nothing he could do. Vin had lived it - survived it - and talking about just riled Chris up so much, he wanted to hurt somebody, almost anybody, for the hurt, scared little kid that Vin had been. Chris had so much hate going on inside of him already, talking to Vin about his past just added fuel to that fire, and Chris didn't like the feeling.
"You wouldn't 'a done that, would you Chris?" Vin asked without opening his eyes. "You wouldn't 'a hurt Adam if he's tryin' to make you happy? Even if he did something wrong doing it, you wouldn't 'a hurt him, would you?"
Memories of his son only added to Chris' venom. Still, he kept his voice even.
"No, I wouldn't have done that."
After another moment or two, Vin finally opened his eyes. But he still stared down.
"Be all right if I'se to go lay down now? Awful tired all of a sudden."
"Sure, I'll turn the bed down for you..." Chris got up out of his chair, thankful that the discussion had come to an end.
"No..." Vin insisted. "...I'll sleep in my own bed. I don't gotta put you out."
"You'll sleep here." Chris informed him. He wondered if Vin had already forgotten telling Chris he didn't want to be alone. Was that only this morning? He tried to sound lighthearted. "Your choice was with me, or locked in at Nathan's - your call."
Vin looked at the bed, then up at Chris. "I get bad dreams..."
"I know." Chris hunkered down in front of Vin. "You told me this morning, remember?" And Vin almost nodded. "And I told you, I wouldn't leave you alone."
"I don't want t'put y'out...I ain't meanin' t'be so much trouble."
"You're sick Vin, you need lookin' after is all. Ain't no trouble. Hell, be a heap more trouble from Nathan if I was to leave you be...you just get some rest and let that medicine have a chance to work on you."
But Vin didn't answer, he squeezed his eyes shut again.
"Vin - I know you've been ridin' a rough trail this past week or so. Y'just got to hang on and eventually you'll come out onto the open. I know - I've ridden that trail. It seems hard now - and bein' sick'll make it just that harder. But I told you I won't leave you alone and I won't. You ain't that little boy anymore Vin. Can't nobody hurt you. You remember that. You let that work on you just the same as Nathan's ditch water. Okay?"
Eyes still closed, Vin nodded.
tbc