Compared to previous chapters, this one is basically fluff. LOL enjoy the sap. Brother love and budding bromance. What more could one ask for?

After Doc read Jackson's poker face for him again, Wyatt laid his plans. The three of them took turns going out to gamble while one or two of them remained to guard Jackson at all times. One way or another, they planted information about when they would leave town, depending on the weather. All of it sounded logical, but none of it was part of the real plan. Wyatt was sure some of Jackson's gang must have been at or around their card tables at some point, and even if they hadn't, it wouldn't take much for them to get the false information secondhand.

Doc ate a fair-sized dinner, which pleased Wyatt. Granada seemed to do a lot for Doc's disposition, in spite of the inclement weather. The rain was rough on his body, but he would act as if nothing had happened as soon as each coughing spell passed.

"Let's hope it stays quiet tonight and we get a good rest," Wyatt told Doc and James as they were getting ready for bed. They had supervised Jackson's time in the washroom already, this time not allowing him to have his hands free, no matter how much he complained.

"Good night," Doc said.

Doc turned the lamp down low before he finished undressing, and Wyatt wondered if he was shy after all. It must be different, not growing up with a pack of boys around all the time.

He got into bed beside James and bade his companions good night.

"Don't steal all the covers," James admonished.

Wyatt snorted. "Mind you don't either."

Once Doc was in bed, they all settled into their respective breathing patterns. After a little while, Wyatt found a gap between the bedclothes and the mattress. Cool air was seeping under the covers. He tugged gently, but didn't manage to get the footage he wanted. He remembered what James said about stealing the covers and sighed. He scooted toward the middle of the bed until his back was against James's side. Now the covers draped over him nicely. He smiled and relaxed, ready to sleep.

He woke some time later to James snoring. Oh, no...

"James," Wyatt whispered. He tried elbowing his brother, but that got little response. He pulled a pillow over his head.

A minute later, he heard Doc's voice.

"Wyatt? Is that James?"

"Sure is."

"La. Is he always this loud?"

"Not always."

"Seems like that pillow isn't helping much."

"I can't stuff cotton in my ears. I need to be able to hear."

After another half a minute of vainly trying to sleep, Wyatt sat up with a groan. He prodded James, which resulted in a break in the snoring... for a few seconds.

"James..." Wyatt sighed. "Damn it." He stared at his brother in the dim light, at a loss for what to do.

"Put the pillow over his head," Doc suggested.

This action merely dampened the noise slightly.

"Well, come on over here with me. At least that way you're not right next to it."

Wyatt wasn't sure how he felt about bunking with Doc. He had a feeling it would make his friend self-conscious. "Oh, that's all right... I'll get to sleep eventually."

"I don't mind at all, but suit yourself."

Doc sounded casual enough, but Wyatt still didn't want to inconvenience him. He lay back down.

James snored on, oblivious to the trouble he was causing.

"Oh, hell." Wyatt got up and took his pillow from the bed. Doc pulled back his covers like a magician revealing the rabbit that disappeared in the previous trick.

Gratefully, Wyatt got into Doc's bed and lay on his side, dropping the extra pillow over his ear. The bedclothes adequately covered them both. Should have started out over here. Me, steal the blankets - ha!

"Good night," he heard Doc say softly.

"Night."

Finally, sleep came.

In his sleepiness, Wyatt thought someone was trying to wake him. He couldn't understand what they were saying, or why they were so halfheartedly prodding his shoulder. Then he felt something prickly on his skin and rolled onto his side, toward Doc. What the hell is going on?

Doc seemed to be putting out a lot of heat. Wyatt realized his undershirt was a little damp from Doc sleeping up against him. Doc was also making some sounds, almost like he was slurring drunkenly.

When they were kids, Wyatt and Morgan had played a lot of tricks on each other, and one of their favorite things to do at night was to see if they could coax each other into sleep talking and see if they remembered anything about it the next morning.

Without thinking, Wyatt leaned a little closer and whispered, "What's that, Doc?"

Doc groaned and then murmured, "Don't... Gerald, you can get 'em to stop."

Wyatt frowned. "Stop what?"

"Let me go."

This sounded like a nightmare. When they played this game, you had to deal with nightmares one of two ways: steer it toward a favorable end or wake the sleeper. Wyatt had no idea what Doc was dreaming about, or how to turn it into something more pleasant. He put his hand on Doc's hot, damp shoulder. "Doc?"

"No, please..."

"Doc, it's me. Wake up." Wyatt gave Doc's shoulder a little shake.

Doc started violently and gasped. He lay panting and coughing for a minute. "...Wyatt?"

"Yeah. You were having a nightmare."

"Oh... god, I'm sorry."

"It's not like you could help it. You all right? Seems like you're burning up."

"I could do with some water."

"Sure." Wyatt got up carefully and went to pour a glass of water. He didn't try too hard to be quiet, since James was still sound asleep. Fortunately, his snoring had quieted somewhat.

When he brought the water back, Doc had pushed the covers down to his waist and sat up a bit. "Thanks," Doc said, taking the glass. His warm fingers brushed against Wyatt's.

God, he's so thin. Wyatt sat on the edge of the bed while Doc drank the water. He absently rubbed his shoulder. "You have some prickly five o'clock shadow."

Doc laughed lightly, moving the glass away from his lips. "Oh, sorry about that."

"No harm done.

"Um... who's Gerald?"

"Gerald?" Doc frowned. "Oh... he was a classmate back in college. One of the ones closer to my age. I was youngest in my class. They had to hold back my license when I graduated... wasn't old enough to practice yet." He chuckled.

"So, you were an upstart kid," Wyatt concluded. "That why they gave you trouble?"

"It was just a dream, Wyatt. Don't pay it any mind." Doc finished the water and handed back the glass. "Thank you." He settled down to sleep again.

Wyatt set the glass aside and got back into bed. He purposely moved up against his friend and observed that he didn't seem as hot now. He fought the urge to put an arm around Doc. If it were Morgan and he were sick, he wouldn't have hesitated. Doc would probably find it too intimate - just being this close was pushing his luck.

He waited until Doc's breathing deepened in a steady rhythm. Then he rolled toward him again. "Doc?" he whispered.

When he got no response, Wyatt felt Doc's forehead. It seemed a little feverish still. He made sure that the bedclothes covered himself without covering Doc above the waist. Then he rested his hand on Doc's forearm, watching his face carefully in the low light. It seemed Doc was in a deep sleep already.

"Don't you get sick on me," Wyatt murmured. "Well... sicker."

He didn't know how long he sat there watching his friend sleep. Long enough to put his arm to sleep, propped up on it as he was. He sat up and shook his arm, letting his hand flap at the wrist. He could tell he would have a hard time sleeping right now. I must be worried about him. He knew there was little more he could do for Doc at the moment, but something kept nagging at him.

His eye fell on his saddlebag slung over the footboard beside his gun belt. Images of his mother reading to him, a couple of churches he'd been in, and the memory of pleading for Doc's life two nights before flitted through his mind. He sighed. I need to look at it at some point so I can say I did... might as well be now.

He leaned toward the foot of the bed and rummaged a moment before pulling out the Bible. He propped himself against the pillows and glanced at Doc to make sure he hadn't been disturbed before he reached up to turn the lamp up a tiny bit. Then he opened the Bible and instinctively turned to the Psalms. After falling randomly on the third and reading silently for a bit, he whispered, "Listen to this, Doc: 'I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the Lord sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people, that have set themselves against me round about.' So, you see, it doesn't matter how many men Jackson's got down the trail."

Doc slept on.

"And here it says God will break the teeth of the ungodly. Sounds good to me." He smirked, imagining that Doc would find it amusing if he were awake.

He read on a little more and then checked Doc again. His brow was still damp, and his breathing seemed a little raspy. Wyatt sighed again softly. "Listen," he said, leaning closer to his friend. "'I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.'

Doc still gave no response.

Wyatt set the Bible on the bedside table and turned the lamp back low. He scooted down, nestling against Doc again. This time, he carefully draped his arm over Doc's ribs. Again, he was struck by how thin his friend was.

"You're going to be all right," he whispered. "You'd just better be all right." He closed his eyes. Please let him be all right... And keep us safe tomorrow.

Doc started violently and gasped. Someone had a grip on his shoulder. It was dark. Had someone said something to him? "Doc, it's me. Wake up." That was it. He lay panting and coughing for a minute while he remembered where he was. "...Wyatt?"

"Yeah. You were having a nightmare."

Relief washed over him, followed by embarrassment. "Oh... god, I'm sorry."

"It's not like you could help it. You all right? Seems like you're burning up."

"I could do with some water."

"Sure."

While Wyatt went to get the water, Doc tried to compose himself. He was sweltering. He pushed the covers down to his waist and sat up, leaning against the headboard.

He missed Kate again. She would have made him feel better immediately with her tender but sensible way of dealing with things. He thanked Wyatt for the water and reached out for it, impulsively letting his fingers brush Wyatt's in what passed for an accident in the course of taking the glass. He desperately wanted contact. Nothing else would do when he got this way.

Wyatt sat on the edge of the bed while Doc drank the water. "You have some prickly five o'clock shadow."

Doc realized that the slight redness on Wyatt's shoulder was the fault of his own chin. He huffed into the glass and then moved it away to avoid spilling the water. "Oh, sorry about that." He hoped Wyatt assumed that that contact had also been an accident.

"No harm done.

"Um... who's Gerald?"

"Gerald?" Doc frowned. That's right... what an awful dream. He tried to sound casual. "Oh... he was a classmate back in college. One of the ones closer to my age. I was youngest in my class. They had to hold back my license when I graduated... wasn't old enough to practice yet." He chuckled. He was proud of himself for redirecting the conversation.

But Wyatt wasn't so easily put off. "So, you were an upstart kid. That why they gave you trouble?"

"It was just a dream, Wyatt. Don't pay it any mind." Doc went back to drinking the water, grateful that Wyatt stayed silent. When he finished, he handed back the glass. "Thank you." He settled down to sleep again.

Wyatt set the glass aside and got back into bed. He moved right up against Doc.

Doc knew he should move away, or maybe even say something, but he couldn't bring himself to. He wanted Wyatt close. Closer. Wanted his arms around him. Wanted that soothing voice in his ear, telling him no one would hurt him. Why couldn't I have had one friend in that damn school? A friend like Wyatt Earp.

He focused on the places their bodies touched, barely separated by thin layers of cotton. It would have to be enough. He closed his eyes and took in that warmth, savored that closeness. I'm safe.

Bible verses were from Psalms 3 and 4. That book has a lot of stuff about being kept safe, probably because David wrote it when he was in hiding from a jealous King Saul and his soldiers. It's also poetry, so I figure Doc would appreciate that. xp

I'm still not getting any comments, so I'm just doing my own thing... really wanting to cuddle Doc. I had to give him something. xp Don't worry, my dear Doc, you will get your cuddles eventually...

I'm clearly losing my mind here. Someone intervene on behalf of my sanity, please. (At the time of writing this, only one person has commented.)