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The Night of the Burning Ashes
A Wild Wild West story
By Deana

Here's my tag to the awesome 1st season episode, 'The Night of the Burning Diamond'! Enjoy!

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"Hey Artie," Jim called, walking into the main room of the train. "I want to go out. Coming?"

Artie glanced at him from where he sat at the table, with books and papers spread out before him. "Do you know what time it is, Jim?"

Jim nodded. "Come on, it's not that late if you're still up. I'm sure even you could find a pretty girl to dance with."

Artie didn't react to the quips, instead picking up a piece of paper with a sigh. "Jim."

The tone of his voice got Jim's attention, and he frowned. "What?"

"How do you feel?" Artie asked.

Jim blinked. "Feel? Fine, why?"

Artie got right to the point. "These are the notes and studies that Midas did on the serum from the burning diamonds. It's addictive."

Jim blinked. "Addictive?"

Artie nodded.

"So what do we do?" Jim asked, having never expected that. "I feel fine."

Artie shook his head. "Your burning desire—no pun intended—to go dancing is the first stage of withdrawal. Your metabolism has sped up in anticipation of getting more of the serum. You're wide awake and eager for activity, despite the late hour."

Jim nodded. "Okay…but you don't look wide awake and eager for activity."

Artie sighed. "That's because I've already moved on to the second stage. You had more of the serum later during your fight with Midas, so it'll take longer for you."

Jim frowned. "And what happens during the second—"

Before Jim had a chance to finish his question, Artie suddenly closed his eyes with a wince and grabbed the edge of the table.

Alarmed, Jim grabbed him by the arm. "Artie!"

Artie gave a gasp, breathing heavily and gripping his chest with his other hand.

Jim tried to pull his friend out of the chair, intending to lay him on the couch, but Artie didn't let him.

"No," Artie said, breathlessly. "I have to…find…an antidote."

"What?" Jim exclaimed. "How are you supposed to do that? How many stages are there?"

Artie tried to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as the pain passed. He rubbed the middle of his chest before dropping his hand and straightening up in the chair. "Quickly," he said, in answer to Jim's first question. "And four."

"Four?"

Artie nodded. "When we were under the influence of the serum, did you notice how fast your heart was beating?"

Jim shook his head.

"I did. According to these notes, our hearts were racing over three hundred beats per minute."

Jim was stunned. "Three hundred?!"

Artie nodded again. "When we felt the pain of the serum wearing off, it was our hearts' reaction to the sudden drop from three hundred to around two hundred. Once the serum wore off completely, our heart rates eventually went back to normal." He shook his head. "Midas didn't tell us everything. I can't even begin to tell you the danger that we were in. If large groups of people took this serum, there would definitely be a death rate." He sighed. "I can only hope that no damage was done to our hearts."

Jim said nothing, shocked.

Artie turned a page in the book before him, with another sigh.

"What happens in the other two withdrawal stages?" Jim asked.

"The third stage is fever…the fourth is convulsions and unconsciousness."

Jim couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Is there anything that I can do to help?" he asked, wondering how on earth Artie was going to find an antidote, nevermind try to do it while suffering the withdrawal. A rock formed in his stomach when he realized that Artie was already in the second stage…if he didn't find an antidote before falling into the fourth stage… "Artie," he said. "What do I do if—"

"If I fail before reaching the last stage?" Artie asked, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "I don't know, Jim. Midas reached it the first time that he tried the serum, and survived."

That was good to know, at least. "Where do you intend to start?" Jim asked.

Artie pointed to the book. "Right here. Midas already did…it appears that he was nearly finished." He stuffed the notes into the book, closed it, and stood.

Relieved to hear that, Jim followed him into the lab, watching as Artie started taking Midas' chemicals out of a box. "Artie…if you hadn't taken this stuff back with you…"

Artie looked at him. "I know." He sighed, knowing that just because Midas survived the withdrawal, didn't mean that everyone would. According to the notes, Midas had first tried the diamond serum two years ago, and had been five years younger than Jim was now, meaning that he'd been ten years younger than himself. If age played a part in the severity and outcome of the withdrawal, then Artie knew that he had the least chance of surviving it out of the three of them.

Jim watched Artie, seeing the deep thought and knowing that he wasn't telling him everything. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but had to lunge forward and grab Artie again when his friend suddenly closed his eyes and leaned against the table. Reaching out his leg, Jim hooked the nearby stool and dragged it over, sitting Artie on it.

The pain was awful, spreading through Artie's chest like tendrils, and he could feel each beat of his heart like a stabbing knife. It subsided gradually, and he reopened his eyes, finding Jim's worried face above him. "It's not so bad," he lied, with a half-grin.

Jim reluctantly let go of him. "I suppose I'll find out soon enough. How long do I have?"

"You had more of the serum what, two hours later?" asked Artie. "At least that long, I suppose, though you can't expect us both to react exactly the same."

Artie was right. It was two and a half hours later when Jim first felt the pain.

He'd been behind Artie, fetching something for him off a shelf when it hit. He managed to not make a sound, not wanting to distract Artie from his work. It didn't last long, and didn't hurt as much as he expected it to. He wondered if it would get worse as time went on, but refused to think about it as he brought Artie what he'd requested.

Artie, on the other hand, was having a difficult time. When the pain struck now, it never completely faded away; leaving a dull ache that was constant. It was two o'clock in the morning now, and he was exhausted.

Something suddenly touched his forehead, and Artie realized that he'd closed his eyes and leaned his head in his hand with his elbow on the table. He didn't remember doing it, and opened his eyes to see Jim looking at him.

Jim removed his hand from Artie's forehead. "Stage three," he said.

Artie sighed, though he was relieved to see that stage two had lasted for nearly four hours. If stage three lasted that long, then he had a good chance of finding the antidote before he reached stage four.

Giving no reply, he simply poured a few drops of what he hoped was the antidote onto a slide and looked at it through his microscope. The liquid didn't bind with the blood cells the way that he wanted them to, and he sat up with a sigh.

Jim watched as his friend blinked tiredly. "Maybe you should take a break."

Artie shook his head, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "There's no time." He looked up at Jim. "Why don't you go to sleep? If I need you, I'll call you."

Jim shook his head. "Go to sleep? You're in stage three, Artie, I can't leave you." He suddenly had an idea. "I'll be right back."

Artie watched him go, before turning back to his work.

Jim came back a couple of minutes later with a towel, a bowl of water, and a piece of cloth. He wet the towel and wrung it out, before placing it against Artie's forehead. "Hold this," he said.

Artie hadn't expected it, and flinched from the coldness of the water. Before he could ask what Jim was doing, his friend had wrapped the cloth around the towel and his head, tying it in the back.

"If we try to keep the fever as low as possible, maybe it will lengthen stage three and delay the onset of stage four," Jim explained.

Artie nodded. "You could be right about that Jim, thanks."

Jim smiled, but it faded away when his friend suddenly closed his eyes with a wince. Artie's face paled, and he kept his eyes closed longer than the last time.

Jim could barely contain his worry, knowing that the pain was coming from his heart. It scared him more to know that it was happening to Artie, than the fact that it was happening to himself, too.

Artie opened his eyes and exhaled noisily, before picking up another vial of liquid.

Jim managed to hide his own pain from Artemus for almost two hours, stepping away from the table when he felt it starting. After an episode that lasted longer than the others, Jim turned back to the table to find Artie staring at him.

"When did it start?" Artie demanded.

Jim sighed, though he knew that it would've been impossible to hide it forever. "A couple of hours ago."

"You should've told me!" Artie said, upset to hear that. "How bad is the pain?"

Jim came back around the table. "Not as bad as it seems to be for you." He suddenly remembered that when the pain struck them as the diamond serum wore off, the pain had been worse for Artie then, too.

Artie nodded. "I'm not surprised. You're younger."

"Can five years really make that much of a difference?" Jim asked.

Artie shrugged. "You're in better shape, making your heart healthier." He reached up and adjusted the wet towel that Jim had tied around his head.

Jim went over to him and untied it, taking it off and checking Artie's fever. "It's higher."

Artie sighed. "I figured it was."

Jim rewet the towel and replaced it, tying the cloth tighter to avoid it slipping down. "Do you know how close you are to finding the antidote?"

Artie nodded. "Close. I have the correct ingredients, the tricky part is finding the right combination."

Jim nodded. "You realize that you've been in stage three for two hours."

Artie nodded again. "I know."

"Do you think it'll last as long as stage two?"

Artie looked at him. "I can't say for sure. When Midas tried the diamond serum the first time, the concentration was stronger because of his inexperience with it, so none of the withdrawal stages lasted longer than two hours for him."

"Oh."

Artie removed the slide from the microscope and accidentally elbowed the pencil that he was writing with, knocking it to the floor.

Jim stepped forward to get it for him, just as Artie stepped off the stool to retrieve it himself. The pain chose that moment to strike Artie again, taking him by surprise, and, off balance, he dropped to his knees.

Artie gasped as the impact increased the pain. He clutched his chest with his right hand and hung his head, his left hand on the floor to brace himself.

Jim knelt beside him and quickly grabbed hold of his right arm, waiting for the pain to pass before he helped Artie up and sat him back on the stool.

Artie took a ragged breath. Seeing the bowl of water nearby, he dipped his hand in it and splashed the water over his hot face before reaching for the microscope again.

For another hour, Jim watched Artie try one combination after another, failing each time. As he got closer to stage four, Artie grew agitated, knowing that if he should fall unconscious, then Jim was doomed to suffer the full withdrawal effects also.

After another failed attempt, Artie felt like throwing something. He slapped his hand on the table, covering his eyes with his other hand.

Jim reached across the table and grabbed his arm. "Artie, calm down."

Artie shook his head. "Calm down?" He raised his head. "Jim, just because Midas survived doesn't mean that everyone would." The second the words left his lips; he closed his mouth and inwardly groaned, having not wanted to say that.

Jim nodded. "I know, I thought about that too."

Artie sighed. "I have to find the antidote, for your sake." With that, he began again.

Jim let go of his arm, just as the pain decided to strike him. He noiselessly sucked in a breath and tried not to react, reaching up to scratch his head, in an effort to block his face.

Artie didn't notice, thankfully, too engrossed in his work.

Once five o'clock rolled around, Jim laid his head on his arms, hardly able to stay awake anymore. He'd never been one to need a lot of sleep, but the withdrawal was sapping at his strength. He had no idea how Artie was keeping himself together.

Artie was relieved when Jim fell asleep. He continued to work quietly, never stopping even when the words on the paper blurred, or he nearly fell asleep where he sat…not even when the heat radiating from his forehead felt like he had a terrible sunburn. He kept on, even when his hands started to shake and he nearly dropped his new batch.

He almost didn't stop even when he got the results that he wanted.

Shocked, Artie just stared, almost not able to believe it. His head was swimming with a lightheadedness that felt like his mind was detached from his body, and he frowned with confusion, the high fever affecting his comprehension. After blinking a few times, he realized that he'd done it, and he poured the mixture into two cups, before getting off the stool and heading to Jim's side…or rather, that's what he tried to do. His legs buckled instead of holding him up, and his vision turned gray. Blinking against it, he grabbed the table and somehow got himself next to Jim, grabbing his arm and shaking it.

Jim woke immediately.

"Here," Artie said, practically pouring the concoction down his throat.

Jim took the cup and drank it.

Artie sighed with relief, before closing his eyes and slumping to the floor.

Jim leaped off his stool and knelt beside his friend. "Artie!" he exclaimed. "Artie, did you take the antidote yet?"

Artemus half opened his eyes. "No…"

Jim wasn't surprised at all that Artie had made sure that he'd gotten the antidote first. Standing, he saw the other cup on the table and grabbed it. Kneeling again, he slid an arm under Artie's shoulders, pulled him upright, and held the cup to his lips.

Artie drank it, slightly surprised at how tasteless it was. After Jim pulled the cup away, Artie tried to straighten up, but abruptly felt his muscles grow tense.

Jim was taken by surprise when Artie's entire body suddenly twitched. Stage four, he realized. The diamond serum had taken effect in less than a minute, but Jim knew that it was unlikely for the antidote to work as quickly.

Artie was thinking the same thing, even as his body twitched a second time.

Jim pulled Artie's arm around his neck and hauled him off the floor, dragging him out of the lab and to his compartment, where he laid him on his bed.

Artie sighed with relief to feel the soft mattress under himself. He lay completely limp as Jim checked his fever, never hearing him leave the room and return a minute later with the bowl of water.

Jim rewet the towel and laid it across Artie's forehead. A drop of water splashed onto his cheek, and when he wiped it off, he was surprised to feel that his own face was hot. He'd gone into the third stage without realizing it.

Artie suddenly gasped when the pain struck again. He wrapped his arms around his chest and tried to curl up, but hadn't the strength. His body twitched, and he gasped again.

Jim reached forward and clasped his arm, taking the towel off Artie's forehead and patting it over his face before replacing it.

The tension slowly left Artie's body, and he lay limply again, breathing heavily. Suddenly, his head lolled to the side as he abruptly lost consciousness.

Jim reached forward and checked Artie's pulse, finding it racing. With a sigh, he rewet the cloth on his friend's forehead just as the pain decided to strike him. He was surprised when it only hurt half as much as before, and was relieved to see that the antidote worked quickly.

Looking at Artie, he sighed, wishing that he'd been able to discover it sooner.

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When Artie next opened his eyes, he was very confused. His chest felt sore and he was lightheaded. Reaching up to rub his eyes, he felt a cloth on his forehead and pulled it off, staring at it. Suddenly, realization struck, and he exclaimed, "Jim!"

Jim was asleep in the chair beside the bed, and jumped, startled. "What's wrong?"

Artie stared at him. "I did it?" he realized, seeing Jim looking fine.

Jim nodded. "Yes…you don't remember?"

Artie thought for a minute before sighing with relief. He recalled becoming so addled by the fever, that he'd nearly missed it when he'd finally combined the chemicals correctly. "That was close."

"Closer than you think. Five minutes later, you were unconscious."

"I reached stage four," Artie said. It wasn't a question…he remembered the twitching. He sighed again and closed his eyes, feeling weak.

"Take it easy," Jim said. "Your fever is gone and the antidote worked perfectly, but your body has still been through a lot and you need to recover."

"I'm just tired," Artie lied. He reopened his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"Fine, just tired too." He sat back in his chair. "Go back to sleep, I'm sure you'll feel better when you wake up."

Jim was right. The next time they both woke, Jim was back to normal and Artie felt stronger. They were both starving, and even though Jim wanted Artie to stay in bed, he insisted on getting up. After they ate, they sat on the couch with some brandy.

"Jim," Artie suddenly said. "What are we going to write in our report? We can't let another person on earth know what can be done from burning a diamond." The thought of hundreds and eventually thousands of people using Midas' serum was staggering.

"I know," said Jim, with a sigh. "We can just say that we found the diamond thief, but he was killed before telling us how he did it."

Artie nodded. "At least we recovered some of the diamonds before Midas had a chance to burn them all."

Jim nodded back.

Artie suddenly realized something else. "The notes."

"Notes?"

"Midas' notes. We can't keep them…they have to be destroyed." He reached over to put his glass down, accepting Jim's hand up from the couch.

Jim followed Artie into the lab and watched as he gathered every paper and stuck them inside the book, frowning when Artie then headed towards the front of the train. "Where are you going?"

"There's only one way to do this right," Artie replied, opening the door.

Unsure of just how much strength Artie had regained, Jim rushed forward and grabbed his arm as they went through the door and outside the train car. The scenery rushed by them as they carefully stepped across to the next car and over to the furnace.

Jim kept one hand on Artie's arm and opened the furnace with the other, before making the 'after you' gesture.

Without a word, Artie threw the book inside, and they silently watched as the knowledge of the burning diamonds became nothing more than a pile of burning ashes.

THE END