"I can hold 'em off! Run. I'll be on your tail soon as I can. But you gotta run. Get away safe with the boys and the money."

The Kid tossed restlessly, his voice increasing in volume as he pushed Heyes' hand away when he tried to cover him back over with the quilt, in an attempt to to keep him from getting chilled. Heyes continuing his efforts to re-cover his partner said firmly."It's all right Kid, you got them on the run, they're halfway back to town. We can rest now, we're safe. I got the money hid and the rest of the gang are fine."

"You sure? I can still hear 'em!" Kid's fever bright eyes turned to him, his face unnaturally flushed.

"No, Kid, that's just the wind."

Heyes softened his tone, tucking the Kid's hand back under the quilt as he straightened the disturbed material around his partner, finally managing to tuck him back in. With a sense of relief he managed a small smile when the Kid nodded to himself as he said faintly. "Wind."and fell back into a restless sleep.

Wound fever had hit the Kid about two days after the shooting, and it was mostly of the quiet, unconscious kind during the day, but the fever rose as the sun set, and with it came demons that Heyes had found meant that settling his partner often took all night, with him only dropping into a restless sleep as the first tendrils of light from dawn breaking drifted into his bedroom. Three nights of this had left Heyes hollow eyed with exhaustion, despite managing to snatch some sleep during the day when Kid was quieter.

A quick check of his friend's forehead reassured Heyes that though still too warm, the Kid was cooler and a bleary glance towards the drawn curtains showed that dawn was still a few hours away. It seemed that Doc Hamilton's feeling had been correct, the fever would indeed break today. It had been a milder case of infection than it could have been, as the medic was both diligent and skilled, but still, it had been an unpleasant few nights for both of them.

A few hours later, Heyes woke with a start at the sound of his friend stirring. Looking over, he was relieved to be see that the unhealthy flush in his partner's cheeks was gone. He was instead unnaturally pale except for dark marks under his eyes, so deep they looked like bruises,but the confusion and panic of the last nights was wholly absent, and he even managed a tiny smile, before closing his eyes, and falling into to peaceful sleep.

Heyes sat listening to the even, regular breathing for a little while, relishing the sound of it, before he stretched and went to his own room to finally get some proper sleep himself.

ASJ

Heyes watched his partner fire at the bottles he'd placed up on the fence. It was slightly less than a month since the Kid had allowed himself to be shot by Barley, and just over two weeks since his partner had been able to be up and around safely, so Heyes was a little surprised and more than a little impressed , not that he'd ever admit that to the Kid, that he only missed half of what he was shooting at.

The Kid was still in a lot of pain, and it was clear to Heyes and to just about everyone else, except his partner apparently, that he was practising far too soon. Heyes had pointed this fact out more than once, but with no success at getting his friend to listen. Now after three days of leaving him to his shooting after failing to make him see sense, Heyes had reached the point of where he'd had more than enough. He was sick and tired of watching him afterwards, attempting to eat, or do much more than fall asleep in the chair by the fire, without going pale from the pain. Then after a shrug an hour or so late, with a muttered. "I'm fine, Heyes." he'd retire to bed in resigned silence, leaving Heyes frustrated and irritated.

Heyes walked to stand behind his friend and swallowed a sigh, when without looking back, the Kid said quietly. "I'm thinkin' you'd better start practisin' Heyes, 'cos if I can't hit half of what I'm aimin' at..."

Heyes took a deep breath, then said firmly without attempting to hide his irritation. "Doc Hamilton has told you, I've told you, damn even the Sheriff and his son have told you, its too soon. You still can't fasten your shirt or pants buttons without wincing, so what makes you think its time to start practising again?" He paused and added more gently. "Now we ain't wanted, and with Barley most likely busy telling anyone who cares to listen, that he outshot Kid Curry, I'm guessing there's less chance of us being shot at anyways."

The Kid slipped his gun back into his holster with none of his usual panache. As he did so, Heyes heard his breath hitch betraying how much it hurt. But before he could point out how dumb he was being by insisting on pushing himself, the Kid turned to look at him. "There's always a chance Heyes, and we both know it." With that he turned away and walked over to begin setting up some new bottles next to the ones he'd missed, from the small box he'd placed by the fence.

Heyes shook his head, thinking that if stubbornness alone could win races, the Kid wouldn't ever lose a single one he entered. After a moment of watching his friend's back, he came to a decision. Ignoring the nagging worry that it was never a good thing to ask a question you didn't already know the answer to, he asked "Do you regret getting yourself shot?" Whatever the Kid answered, would help determine what Heyes would do next to get them both through this, with or without his partner' co-operation. Heyes held his breath as the words hung in the air between them almost like an accusation.

In the sudden heavy silence Heyes heard the Kid inhale sharply, before he stopped what he was doing, and swung round to face him, his jaw tight and his expression angry as he snapped. "What kinda question is that?"

Heyes now absolutely certain that it was the right time to ask, refused to back down, despite the pain in his friend's expression and met the Kid's gaze steadily, as he said calmly. "An honest one. Well do you?"

"What kind of man would I be if I..." The Kid paused took a deep breath, his face showing some shame as his shoulders slumped before he added. "Maybe sometimes when I can't even fasten my belt properly, or when I wake up in the middle of the night because of the pain in my arm." He trailed off, closed his eyes briefly, his breath catching, and Heyes knew exactly what he was remembering: a girl's body lying prone on a dusty square, her mother's face wracked in grief.

When the Kid's gaze fell back onto Heyes, there was nothing but resolve in his face as he said firmly. "But it don't never last for more than a minute, because I know if I hadn't...So, no Heyes, I don't regret it."

Heyes smiled at both the firm tone and resolute expression, and knew the Kid was telling the absolute truth. Relief swept over him, and he realised that was the answer he'd been hoping for. He rested his hand on the shoulder of Kid's good arm and said gently. "Then you know what you gotta do. Give yourself time and stop trying to prove something that don't need proving." He paused and added. "If the worst happens and once you're healed, you're still slower than we'd like, I'm a decent shot, whatever you claim to believe. So we'll make do with what we're left with, even if that's me being faster than you, and having to practice more to make sure I keep up to speed."

The Kid gave him a smile that though weary still reached his eyes. "So long as you don't expect me to go east and become a preacher."

Heyes laughed, reflexively touching his head at the memory of the conversation, before saying. "Nah, Kid, I'm pretty sure there ain't any town ready for that. Remember I've heard you reading out-loud, so know that you're bad enough that you'd pretty much empty a church easy, not to mention your singing would make those that stayed wish they were deaf."

The Kid snorted and shook his head. "Heyes, you say the nicest things! And if we're talkin' 'bout singin'..."

Heyes decided to ignore the second part of the sentence and grinned."Well what are partners for, Kid? Now c'mon I got some beans burning..."

"Well, they ain't likely to taste any worse than your coffee."

With that the Kid began to walk up towards the house as Heyes came up beside him. "There ain't nothing wrong with my coffee, you just don't appreciate the finer things in life that's all."

"Finer things? There isn't nothing fine about your coffee, Heyes, it looks like something a horse left on the trail and probably tastes 'bout as good."

Heyes congratulated himself and hid a grin at managing to effectively divert his friend from insisting on more practice. It might only be a temporary reprieve, but he'd take what he could get, even it meant his friend wittered on unfairly about how bad his coffee tasted.

ASJ

When Heyes walked into their kitchen a few days later, the Kid was already up and cleaning his gun a little awkwardly. Heyes sighed wondering it he was going to have to tie his partner down to stop him practising. But the Kid hearing him enter looked up with a small smile on his face. "No, Heyes, I ain't plannin' on doin' any shooting today, but the Doc told me cleaning my gun is good for getting my fingers going again."

Heyes humphed and waved over to the coffee pot on the side a little surprised. "You made coffee?" He glanced at the scattered grounds on the counter-tops.

The Kid shrugged. "I got sick of my stomach complainin' at me."

Heyes shook his head and simply poured himself a cup, as he reminded himself: one battle at at time, Heyes, one battle at a time."

The Kid sighed as he finished his cleaning and looked up. "I was real careful, Heyes, I thought 'bout what you been sayin' so I did it good and slow, even mostly used my left hand, which is why I made such a mess."

Heyes hid an affectionate smile in his mug as he thought how even now his friend occasionally reminded him of the young boy who'd believed that the sun rose and set on his older cousin. Experience had taught him otherwise of course, but Heyes couldn't help but enjoy these rare moments when that child still showed itself in his fiercely independent and competent partner. "I was thinking 'bout riding into town today, Kid, pick us up some supplies, and see if we got any mail. You won't try anythin' stupid while I'm gone will ya?"

Heyes despite his earlier musing, was unsurprised when the Kid stood with a glare and snapped. "I only got a busted wing, which don't make me helpless, and I ain't stupid or a child! So don't treat me like I am."

Heyes unmoved by his friend's display of temper, merely took a second appreciative sip of his drink, admitting to himself that the coffee tasted pretty good, then held up his hand. "I ain't meaning nothing by it, Kid, but you gotta admit that sometimes you're stubborner than a passel of mules."

The Kid sat back down with a sigh and Heyes smirked when he didn't try to disagree, merely grunted as he took a drink of his own coffee, before saying grumpily. "I won't do nothing that you feel you gotta lecture me about."

A knock on the door drew their attention and Heyes stood to answer, only slightly surprised to see Sheriff Baxter's wife and youngest daughter standing there. Baxter had visited more than once in the last couple of weeks, sometimes on his own and sometimes with his middle son, showing both concern and patience with a decidedly grumpy Kid. The older woman was holding a covered dish and it smelt delicious, making Heyes' stomach rumble in anticipation of how good it would likely taste. "I thought you boys might like some stew. We always have plenty left over, and I imagine you've had your hands full with looking after Mr Curry while he's recovering, as men are in my experience rarely easy patients."

Heyes smiled, thinking how true that was, as he gratefully took the proffered bowl and said. "Well I'm sure the Kid will be more than happy to eat what I ain't cooked." He paused and stood back as he asked. "Do you want to come in?"

Mrs Baxter shook her head, but her expression was friendly as she replied. "No thank- you Mr Heyes, we're just on our way to see my eldest daughter, but we'll drop in on the way home. It's quite a long trip, especially in this heat, and we'll be grateful for a rest and a cool drink."

"I might not be back from town, but my partner would surely appreciate the company."

Heyes smothered a smile at the slight blush that had suddenly appeared on the younger woman's cheeks, amused that his partner had seemingly made one conquest. As the women nodded and turned away, walking back to their buggy, Heyes watching them go, did wonder whether the girl's interest had started before or after the Kid had taken a bullet, heroically saving a damsel in the process. He'd lay bets the woman's bookshelves were stuffed full of books featuring brave heroes rescuing pretty young things from evil outlaws, probably pirates and maybe even the odd dragon. Still a visit from an admiring female might serve to raise his friend's spirits more than he had managed.