Sorry this one took me a while. Real life, dudes. I hope you enjoy it.

"Don't do this."

Wyatt flung off his covers and staggered across to Doc's bed.

"God, please... It's wrong - you know it's wrong!"

"Doc, wake up." Wyatt found Doc's shoulder and shook it. He felt hot and damp.

Something hit Wyatt's arm - Doc's hand or wrist, probably.

"Easy. It's just me."

Doc struck out again, with more force. "No. Let me alone, you bastard!"

Wyatt tried again, louder. "Doc! It's me, Wyatt."

Doc grabbed Wyatt's forearm tightly. "No..." His breathing was quick and raspy. Slowly, his grip loosened. "Wyatt." He coughed a little and settled into slower breathing, though it was still heavy.

The silence felt awkward. Wyatt knew that Doc must feel mortified, but couldn't bring himself to say anything, even in apology. Not that he owed an apology. It wasn't as if he chose to have a nightmare. Whatever that dream had been about, it was bad. Not just a dream of danger, but one of moral dilemma. Those, Wyatt knew, were harder to shake off.

When Morgan or Warren had a bad nightmare, Wyatt had sometimes told them stories to lull them back to sleep, or even sung to them, though he didn't consider himself much of a singer. Sometimes he just sat or lay beside his brother until he went back to sleep. But when it was a very bad dream, the kind that was hard to shake, a little familial intimacy went a lot further.

"It's all right." Without giving himself time to think it through, he pulled Doc into his arms. To his surprise, Doc nestled into his embrace. His body was damp with sweat, but his warmth felt good. Doc seemed to shiver a little, and Wyatt suspected he might even be weeping.

God, what the hell was in that dream? Wyatt rubbed his friend's back and cradled his head. There was so much he wanted to ask, but it didn't seem prudent to break the silence. Doc would probably prefer to think he hadn't said much of anything intelligible. He wouldn't want Wyatt knowing or wondering about the contents of his nightmare. Besides, holding Doc like this, like he could keep his friend safe, felt right. It had felt right when Doc left the bed nearer the door to him, like he wanted to be protected. It felt the way it did when Wyatt had gone to sleep with his arm around Doc. He still wasn't sure how or why, but it seemed like this was where he belonged.

Wyatt suddenly remembered saying goodbye to Lewis. It was this sort of feeling. Bittersweet. He took a slow breath, cherishing Doc's weight against his chest. He remembered what Lewis had told him. "I'll love you 'til I die." He resisted the urge to kiss Doc's head. That was surely a bridge too far.

He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, but it was long enough for his back to start feeling sore. Carefully, he eased Doc back down onto his pillow. He was sure Doc was still awake, but the latter said nothing.

It was a gamble, but Wyatt decided to push his luck. He lifted the bedclothes and climbed in beside his friend. When Doc made no move or sound of protest, Wyatt put an arm around him.

All was still for a moment; then Wyatt felt a cool hand settle on his forearm. He smiled a little in the darkness and moved his fingers lightly against Doc's side. He knew it was likely they would never speak of this, but at the moment no words were needed.

All good things must come to an end, and Doc steeled himself as Wyatt let go of him at last. He would be left alone in the dark, afraid to go back to sleep for fear of facing Michael in the hell of his own subconscious mind. But no... Wyatt was getting into the bed. He's really going to stay here?

Wyatt put his arm around Doc.

Doc held his breath for a moment. He hardly believed Wyatt's actions, let alone knew what to do about them. Oh hell, what does it matter now? He put his hand on Wyatt's warm forearm.

Wyatt's fingers moved lightly against Doc's side. It was strangely comforting.

Doc let his breath out slowly. He's really staying. Maybe all night. His body relaxed and he let himself sag a little more toward Wyatt. His friend's warmth felt safe, exactly what he hadn't known he needed. Did I want him to protect me all this time? Is that why I chose the bed further from the door? Is it the real reason I came on this trip - not to protect him, but because I was afraid to stay in Dodge without him? God, am I that selfish?

Well, what of it? Some other aspect of his personality spoke up. We're here now; there's no changing it. He closed his eyes and focused on the weight of Wyatt's arm across his ribs. He thought it might keep him awake, but shortly after having that thought, he fell asleep.

No more nightmares troubled him that night. When Doc opened his eyes, Wyatt hadn't moved.

So, I didn't dream it. He lay still, watching Wyatt's arm rise and fall with each breath he took, feeling the minute shifting through the cotton of his undershirt. It struck him as odd that this did not remind him of Edwards's touch at all. It was completely different - welcome. It's like having Francisco back, maybe... had we been this close. He indulged in that idea for a minute, imagining his adoptive brother in a rare moment of protective intimacy. He wanted Wyatt to stay asleep so he could savor the feeling longer.

But they had a train to catch. Doc sighed and stretched a little. He stroked Wyatt's forearm lightly, watching his face in order to stop moving the moment Wyatt's eyes opened.

Wyatt blinked a few times before meeting Doc's gaze. Then he seemed to take another moment to recall the circumstances that had led them to this unorthodox position. "Morning, John."

"Good morning, Wyatt."

Wyatt's fingers stretched out and pulled in on Doc's side, his thumb stroking over the base of his chest. Doc looked away from Wyatt's eyes. This is too much. He has to know that. But Wyatt seemed every bit as reluctant to move as he was.

Doc sighed again. "What time does the train leave?"

"Nine-thirty."

"Hadn't we better get up?"

"Yeah."

Doc couldn't decide if it was awkward or just comical that neither of them moved. They both knew this wasn't likely to happen again. That it shouldn't happen again. "Well... come on then, boy."

Now Wyatt sighed and finally withdrew his arm. He sat up and stretched, rolling his head to one side and then the other. He got up and set about getting dressed.

Doc pushed himself up against the headboard, trying not to feel glum. Such is life. Move on.

Wyatt blinked a few times before meeting Doc's gaze. Oh, right. I got in bed with him after he had a nightmare. "Morning, John."

"Good morning, Wyatt." Doc's tone was casual, as if they were sitting down to breakfast.

Wyatt caressed Doc's side subtly. Doc looked away. Wyatt knew he couldn't get away with anything else. He had pushed the intimacy as far as his friend would put up with it.

Doc sighed again. "What time does the train leave?"

"Nine-thirty."

"Hadn't we better get up?"

"Yeah."

But neither of them moved. When would they enjoy this feeling again? Never, most likely.

"Well... come on then, boy."

Now Wyatt sighed and finally withdrew his arm. He sat up and stretched before getting fully upright and going to find his clothes.

Once they'd had a quick breakfast downstairs, Wyatt sent a telegram to the marshal's office in Denver to alert the town's law enforcement to their plans. Then they made sure of their arrangements for the horses, fetched their luggage and prisoner and made their way to the train.

"I trust you had a good night in the local hoosegow," Doc addressed Jackson.

Jackson growled something in response.

"Easy," said Wyatt. "I know you're thinking about making a break for it in spite of your irons, but I promise you wouldn't get more than two steps. You're going to Denver one way or another. Your condition on arrival is completely up to you."

That seemed to subdue Jackson for the time-being. Noting that the train wasn't full, Wyatt chose a corner of a passenger car that was so far empty. He let Jackson in to sit by the window, and he and Doc sat across from each other on the aisle. Jackson would have quite a task to get through them to attempt escape, and he was certainly too big to fit through the window.

"Settle in," Wyatt said. "We've got a long ride ahead." He had been prepared to go all the way by horse, but now that they were on the train, he was very glad of it. He and Doc could take turns keeping a sharp eye on Jackson while the other read or dozed.

Doc purchased a newspaper from the vendor who came by and they passed it back and forth between them.

"Why, there's to be an eclipse in Denver in less than two weeks. I'd heard about it before and forgotten."

"Lunar or solar?"

"A complete solar eclipse. We ought to stay for it. That's something you don't see very often. Maybe once in a lifetime."

"When is it?"

"They say it'll be the twenty-ninth."

"That's too long. We need to get back to James and settle things with the circuit judge."

Doc sighed. "But Wyatt... once in a lifetime."

Wyatt smiled a little. "I'm sorry. I'd like to see it too, but it's just too long to stay away. You can stay and come back later if you want."

"No, no... if you're not stayin', I'll... go along with you." He sounded truly disappointed.

"I really don't mind if you stay in Denver a while. Getting there was the hard part."

Doc shook his head. "No. It's all right. I'm sure I'll hear about it afterward."

"Right." Wyatt didn't like disappointing him, but it couldn't be helped. Too bad the eclipse wasn't the next day.

Always interested in matters of scientific study and advancement, Doc was disappointed that he wouldn't see the eclipse. But the idea of staying in Denver without Wyatt just soured the whole thing. They should go back together as planned.

They didn't bother leaving the train at Agate, but traveled on to the next stop before relieving themselves and getting lunch. Jackson seemed resigned to his fate, but his eyes never quit flitting around as if he thought something or someone would still rescue him at the last moment.

No deus ex machina for you, Doc thought. Thy fate is sealed.

And so it was. The acting marshal in Denver met them at the train station himself.

After some pleasantries and hand shaking that Doc could have done without, Wyatt handed off the prisoner.

"He's all yours and good riddance."

The marshal nodded in appreciation. "My deputies and I are grateful you fetched him for us. I have the bank draft ready to sign at my office. And I'll offer you a drink while we're there."

Doc perked up. A drink sounded good. His flask was nearly empty again.

Even though there really was an amazing solar eclipse in Denver on July 29, 1878, I need Wyatt to be back in Dodge for a different historical event on the 26th. Sorry, Doc! You have to go with him or stay without him.

"Colorado Bob" is off their hands at last. Now they can focus on each other. I mean... on getting back to James. Yeah. Totally what I meant. xD