Sorry it took so long to get this last chapter up. Life hit with a vengeance and everything but writing has been taking up my time. But I was determined to finish this story! So here we have it, the final chapter in the MeTV saga. Hope y'all like it, and I cannot thank everyone enough who has read and enjoyed this story in its entirety. Y'all are the best!

When Slim came to, the throbbing ache that was pounding against his temples as if trying to get out was all he was aware of for many moments. The emptiness of the building and the silence that enfolded it seemed to only exacerbate his splitting headache, and he couldn't help but let out a groan as he folded into himself and placed both hands on his head. It didn't help, and the pain continued to fill up every part of his being.

Finally, Slim felt the tiniest bit of easing from the pain, and he suddenly realized how much he took for granted all the times that his head was pain-free. He never would again, he was sure of it. Suddenly, with the slight easement of his condition, his thoughts returned to what had put him in this abandoned building, the men holding him, keeping him from getting to…

Jess.

His partner flashed through his mind, and just like that the pain was forgotten, eaten up with the all-consuming fear of what had happened to his best friend. He tried to leap to his feet, but the giant movement worsened the pain that had just begun to let up, and he fell against some crates at his side as his vision threatened to go dark. Once the darkness retreated and he could see his surroundings, he pushed himself off of the crates, hissing as it sent excruciating pain through his already throbbing head. But he was determined to find Jess, no matter the cost to himself. He had to find Jess!

The doctor's office had never been so crowded before. Everyone but the seriously wounded young man was sitting or standing in the small parlor. To one side were grouped the men who had fought to protect the wanted man, an interesting mixture of drovers, scout, bounty hunter, and even a Marshall and his deputy. One particularly quick-tempered drover sat uneasily in a chair with a bandage on his head, glaring at the men on the other side of the room. This other group was also an interesting mixture, some ranchers, some gamblers, a sheriff, and an arrogant gun-for-hire that stared back at the young drover with equal intensity. The atmosphere in the room was so tense, it felt as if it could be cut with a knife. An uneasy silence filled it, and the poor doctor didn't quite know what to do with himself. As soon as they brought the wanted man in, barely clinging to life, the doctor had rushed to attend to him and try to save him from an early grave. But now he had done all he could, and all that was left to do was wait. And this was not a comfortable group to be waiting with.

The discomfort continued to mount in the room, as no one dared start any kind of conversation. The doctor felt drops of sweat roll down his face, and he patted at them with a handkerchief. Sullen eyes stared across the room at even more sullen eyes. The heat inside the room was stifling.

Suddenly, everyone in the room jumped to his feet as the front door was kicked in, and a tall form filled the doorway. "Hold it! Don't anybody move!" The form called with an authoritative voice, and with the pistol he was holding ready to blast any man who moved, there was no one who cared to argue with him.

"Where's Jess?" He didn't beat around the bush. After several moments with no response, the doctor took a step forward.

"Your friend is in the back room resting. I have done all I can for him, and now all that is left to do is wait." He paused before adding, "If you're thinking of moving him, I wouldn't suggest it. There's no quicker way to kill him." Everyone in the room saw the tall man's face blanch, but he didn't lower his pistol in the slightest. He seemed to be debating inside as to what course to take now. Apparently he made up his mind, for he said,

"Looks like I'll be keeping an eye on all you people until Jess is well enough to travel. Doc, you keep checking on him and doing whatever needs to be done." He motioned with his pistol for the doctor to go back into the room again. "And leave that door open as you work," he called back to the doctor once he had opened the door.

"You think you can keep an eye on all of us that long, Mister?" One of the men in the room asked, a well-dressed man with dark hair and a pleasant, handsome face.

"I'll keep an eye on you as long as I have to if it means getting Jess out of your bloodthirsty hands." The scowl had by now disappeared from the bandaged drover's face, and he said with some disdain,

"We're not all after Jess's scalp, Mister. Some of us are friends of his." Suddenly Slim's attention focused on this drover as his eyes narrowed.

"A friend of his? I'll bet you became a friend of his once you saw that dollar amount they posted on his reward." Now the scowl turned into a snarl, and the young drover jumped up from his seat.

"I fought with him in the war, Mister, and there's nothing that makes men closer friends than that!" Slim's attention was fully engaged by this rowdy youngster, so he didn't notice the big man with a tall hat who was edging to a position behind him.

"You fought with him in the war?" Slim asked, doubt beginning to creep in.

"Yeah, I can vouch for that," the other drover said in a slow, resigned voice. The wheels were turning in Slim's head as he tried to figure out what to do with this information in his current situation. The big man was almost behind him now, and even as he lifted his gun to hit Slim on the head, the blonde rancher sensed his presence and whipped around, coming face to face with the big man. He grabbed Slim's hands and both began to struggle for control. Slim's gun, now pointed at the ceiling, went off with a loud report. They continued to struggle, but this was one of the strongest men Slim had ever encountered, and Slim could feel his strength waning.

In the midst of his struggle for the upper hand, Slim became dimly aware that chaos had broken out throughout the whole room. The two sides had come together in a gigantic clash, man against man, each person using every ounce of their strength to best the other.

The bout had just reached a climax when a surprise figure appeared in the doorway and shouted above the din, "Hold it! Hold it!" The young, blonde cowboy strode in with a determined face. Miraculously, all the men in the room stopped struggling and turned their attention on him.

"If you're all fighting over the wanted man and the reward he'll bring, you can all stop it now. You'll get no reward." There was an earnestness in the man's bearing that caused everyone to hold their silence.

"My name is Heath Barkley," the young man said as he began his explanation. "I'm the one who put out that wanted poster on Jesse Jones, but I've realized now that I was wrong. I put it out because of personal vengeance, because I hated the man who had killed a good friend of mine. But once I was honest with myself, I admitted that it was self-defense." He heaved a great sigh of resignation. "Jones isn't a murderer, so you can all go home." There was a long moment of sheepish silence, as each man looked at someone else in the realization that they had almost killed each other over nothing. Gradually, one by one, they began to disperse. Paladin picked up his hat, brushed it off, and placed it on his head thoughtfully. Bret and Bart Maverick elbowed each other and shuffled towards the door. Mark looked up at his father with a big smile and grabbed his hand. Lucas returned a squeeze and they walked together out to their waiting horses. Josh Randall looked down at the ground, pushed his hat forward nearly over his eyes, and joined the crowd making their way out of the door. The Cartwright family looked around at each other with one accord, and Sheriff Coffee was close behind as they all ambled outside. Flint McCullough shook his head with an ironic grin as he moved along with the rest. Festus looked questioningly at Marshall Dillon, and when the tall Marshall took a step towards the door Festus hurried to keep up.

Most of the crowd had filed out by this point, but Heath still stood at the door, staring at the ground. Seeing him, Slim, who had finally calmed himself down from the chaos that had broken out, took several slow steps until he stood in front of the cowboy from Stockton. Only then did Heath look up. Staring down at him, Slim breathed, "You may think that you've made everything better, Barkley, but if my friend dies because of this poster you put out, you'll have me to answer to." He didn't wait for a response, but swayed into the back room where Jess was lying, slumping heavily into a chair where he could keep an eye on his friend. A shudder ran through Heath before he backed slowly to the doorway and turned to go.

Now only Gil and Rowdy and the doctor were left in the room. Gil was turning to pick up his hat that had fallen in the midst of the melee, but Rowdy made his way into the back room where Slim and Jess had taken up residence. As he entered the doorway, he cast a long look on Jess's still form on the bed, hardly a trace of breath left in him. He put up a hand to rest it on the doorframe, suddenly tired and worn from the past day's events. He had almost forgotten about the other person in the room until Slim said lowly,

"You're Rowdy Yates, aren't you." Rowdy jerked his head toward his best friend's best friend and met his kind eyes. "Jess has talked about you plenty." Nodding, Rowdy answered,

"Yeah, that's me." He looked back at Jess, and after a while he said contemplatively to nobody in particular, "Y'know, in the war, there were plenty of times that we thought we might not see another day, and we made peace with it. You expect that in a war. But somehow, this is different. The war's over, and yet I'm still standing here, wondering if my friend's gonna live or die." Slim cast his glance on Jess as well, and answered in an equally contemplative way,

"That's the way life is out here. Nothing's certain, and you have to live with that." Silence stretched out after this, until Gil approached the doorway and placed a hand on Rowdy's shoulder.

"We've got to get back to the herd, Boy," he said gently, and turned to make his way outside, trusting that Rowdy would follow in his own good time. Rowdy straightened up, but continued looking at his wounded friend. Finally, he looked pointedly at Slim.

"You take care of Jess. You, uh, don't meet someone like him too often." A small smile lightened Slim's face.

"I know. I will." Then, raising a hand in farewell, he said, "Take care, Rowdy. I'll tell Jess you were asking about him." Rowdy merely gave a single nod before he ambled slowly after his trail boss.

It was late that night when Slim, who had fallen asleep in his lookout chair, was woken by a movement. The doctor had placed himself on the couch in the waiting room in order to be ready for any change in his patient, but Slim was the one who woke. As he struggled to clear the bleariness from his eyes, he saw Jess's form move, and before he could shake the weariness from himself, he heard Jess mumble,

"Dadgum, Slim, I thought you said you never had time to sleep." A tired smile crept across Slim's face until it developed into a chuckle.

"Nice to have you back in the land of the living, Jess."