Bret and Beau paced inside the lobby of the hotel, trying to figure out their next course of action. They had none…not knowing who had taken Bart, and why. There was absolutely nothing to go on, and they were both very upset.

Suddenly, the clerk called them over. "Mr. Maverick!"

Both Bret and Beau looked up to see the clerk waving a piece of paper in the air. They both headed over and Bret grabbed it, opening and reading it aloud.

Bret Maverick,
If you want your brother back, then be at the edge of town in a half-hour. Give yourself up and I'll let him go. Bring the sheriff or anyone else, and I'll kill him in front of you.
Clyde Webster

Bret frowned. "Clyde Webster?"

"Who's he?" Beau asked.

Bret shook his head. "I have no idea."

"Let's go," Beau said, taking a step towards the door.

Bret grabbed Beau's arm. "He said he'd kill Bart if I brought anyone else."

"I know," said Beau. "I'll hide. What if he's wounded and they just throw him in the dust?"

Bret nodded. That was true. "All right, come on."

The two Mavericks quickly left and retrieved their horses from the livery stable, before heading towards the edge of town. Beau fell back and dismounted behind the last building, hiding from sight.

Bret remained on his horse and waited. Finally, two men rode up, guns drawn.

"Where's my brother?" Bret asked.

"You come with us first," said one of them. "Then we bring him here."

Bret couldn't say that he was surprised. He had to fight the urge to look behind himself for Beau, hoping that he'd heard that.

The man then pointed his gun at Bret, riding closer and grabbing Bret's gun out of his holster. "If anyone else is here, you better not follow us," he called. "We'll keep watching. If we see anyone, we'll kill them both!"

Bret sighed at that: so much for their plan for Beau to follow.

Beau sighed too. Figures, he thought.

"Let's go," the man said to Bret.

With that, all three men rode away.

Beau, Bret thought. Looks like it's up to you, now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bret was led to a shack and ushered inside. Ignoring the other man in the room, he looked for his brother and spotted him on the floor. At the sight, he hurried over and dropped to his knees. Bart looked terrible, but he couldn't find any wounds. "What did you do to him?!" he exclaimed.

"You can thank these two," Clyde said, gesturing to his henchmen. "They gave him too much chloroform."

"What?" Bret said. He quickly reached for the pulse on his brother's neck and found his heart beating too slowly, throwing extra beats and missing others completely. It was very frightening, and Bret wanted to let go from the sheer horror at the fact that Bart's heart was doing everything but what it was supposed to do. His brother's skin wasn't just pale, it was gray. "Has he woken up?"

Clyde folded his arms. "Once, for a minute."

Bret turned to look at him. "You're telling me that he's been unconscious for nearly eleven hours?!"

Clyde nodded, looking like he didn't care. "Yep."

Bret turned back to Bart and gently tapped his face with his left hand, keeping the fingers of his right on his brother's excuse-for-a-pulse. "Bart?" he called, urgently. "Bart, wake up."

It took a few taps, and suddenly, Bart was breathing as if he'd been running.

Bret kept his hand on the side of Bart's face, letting go of his pulse to lay his other hand on his brother's struggling chest. "Bart, it's Bret, calm down."

But Bart couldn't; it was too hard to breathe.

"Bart, listen to me," Bret said, putting his right hand on the other side of Bart's face. "Slow down your breathing. Open your eyes."

The voice making its way through Bart's ears sounded garbled. He was dizzy and it still felt like something was sitting on his chest.

"Open your eyes, Bart," Bret said again. "Look at me!"

Bart suddenly did, but Bret didn't know if it was because he finally understood the words or if he just wanted to see whose hands were on him. His eyes opened wide as he struggled to take in air.

"Bart," Bret said again.

Bart looked at him, and Bret was relieved to see recognition in his eyes. He let go of his brother's face and unlaced Bart's tie before opening the top three buttons on his shirt and unbuttoning his vest. He then unbuckled his brother's belt and untucked his shirt, to get rid of anything that might be helping to constrict his breathing. He removed his own jacket and folded it, before gently raising Bart's head and sliding it under to use as a pillow.

"Bret," Bart whispered, before his eyelids suddenly drooped closed.

Bret again felt his pulse. It had quickened in response to his brother's distress, and was even more erratic than before. "Calm down!" he exclaimed.

"Can't…breathe…" Bart replied, opening his eyes again.

Bret had never been so scared in his entire life. He suddenly remembered the reason for Bart's state and turned to see the three men quietly watching. "Why did you do this to him?!" he exclaimed.

"It was a guarantee to grab him without a sound," Clyde answered.

"Didn't you know that too much chloroform can kill?!" Bret exclaimed. He looked down at Bart to see him still struggling to breathe. "If he dies, I'll kill you all with my bare hands!" he said, as if he wasn't their prisoner. A gun suddenly poked him in the back.

"Get up," said Clyde.

Bret turned his head and glared at him.

"Get up, or Ned and Emmet shoot your brother."

Both of the men pointed their guns at Bart.

Bret looked at Bart for a second before reluctantly letting go of him and standing up. He faced Clyde with a sigh. "Now what?"

Clyde smiled. "Now you die."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Beau stood at the edge of town, waiting to see if this Clyde fellow was really sending Bart back. Part of him doubted it: a large part of him. He'd watched the direction that Bret and the other man had ridden in and was itching to follow, but the kidnapper's threat of shooting Bret and Bart if they were pursued echoed in his mind.

Beau waited for a long time, and when it became obvious that Bart was not going to show up, he mounted his horse and rode out of town, hoping that he was far enough away to not be spotted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Now I die?" said Bret. "What did I ever do to you?"

"You killed my father," Clyde said, angrily.

Bret sighed. It figures. "Who was your father?" He anxiously looked back down at Bart, who was still having obvious trouble breathing.

"Clyde Webster the first," Clyde told him.

"All right, Junior, when was I supposed to have killed him?" Bret asked.

Bart suddenly groaned.

Without asking for permission, Bret knelt beside his brother again and felt his pulse. Bart's heartbeat was all over the place, thanks to the chloroform overdose.

Bart looked up at his brother, and Bret could see the fear in his eyes. It wasn't a sight that he saw very often, and it made him even angrier at Clyde and his men. "You're gonna be fine, Bart," Bret said to him, putting a comforting hand on his head. He desperately hoped that it wasn't a lie.

"Can't…breathe…" Bart repeated. The gray color of his skin was scary to see.

"You're breathing," said Bret. "Just try to slow it down."

Bart closed his eyes for a moment. Bret obviously didn't understand that he couldn't get enough oxygen. Bart could feel his heart dancing it's own rhythm, and it was very frightening. Was he about to die? If not, would be become an invalid for the rest of his life with a diseased heart?

"Open your eyes, Bart," Bret suddenly said.

Bart obeyed, opening them halfway. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired, and his head started to spin.

Bret saw the change overtake his brother, and watched as Bart's eyes closed again and his breathing abruptly slowed as the tension in his body melted away. A stabbing pain took hold of Bret's own lungs when he thought that he'd just watched his brother die, but Bart's heart kept up its uneven stutter, and Bret realized that he'd passed out.

With a sigh, Bret lowered his head and covered his eyes with a shaky hand, feeling overwhelmed by his brother's serious condition.

"Excuse me," Clyde said, sarcastically. "I believe we were having an important conversation."

Bret turned to look at him again, and if looks could kill, Clyde would have disintegrated.

"You killed my father six months ago in Kansas City," Clyde said. "After a poker game in which you accused him of cheating!"

Bret frowned and stood. "I haven't been in Kansas City in over a year," he said. "You got your signals crossed somewhere, Junior."

Clyde blinked. "You're lying!" He pulled back the hammer on his gun and pointed it at Bart. "Tell me the truth or your brother dies first!"

Bret shook his head and moved, blocking the gun from pointing at Bart. "That is the truth! Do you think I want you to hurt my brother more than you already have?"

Clyde had to pause. Was it possible? He wanted to kill the man who killed his father; what good was it to kill the wrong person and let the real killer remain free? He turned to look at his men. "Keep an eye on them, I'm going to town to send a telegram." He looked at Bret. "If I find out that you did kill him and lied to me, then I'll kill your brother in front of you when I get back." With that, he strode towards the door and left.

TBC