Nathan ruffled his horse's mane as he settled in the saddle. "There's some broth on the boil. Make sure he has at least two mugs a day for the next few. He won't be ready to ride for at least two weeks... no matter what he tries to tell you. You sure you'll be okay out here on your own?"

"Yeah." If more trouble had been heading his way, it would have found him by now. Besides from what he’d heard, Buck had scared the hell out of every stranger entering town. Word had even spread beyond Four Corners. "If he gives me any trouble, I'll drown him in the creek."

Nathan smirked. "If you need me, you know where I am. He should be fine." Vin's recovery in the ten days since he'd been dragged from the bushes more dead than alive, was remarkable. However, his healing was far from complete. While the dreadful swelling had gone down, the bruising to his chest and abdomen remained horrific. The right side of his face was marbled green and blue. Both eyes were black, and behind the bruising, he was pale. All movement still caused discomfort and he was weak, which was a constant source of frustration for the normally robust and independent man. This aside, Vin was well and truly on the mend.

"Try to keep him in bed as much as possible. He needs rest. And under no circumstances is he to have alcohol on top of the laudanum."

Chris and Nathan exchanged a grin. Their hard work and determination had paid off. Vin was starting to sound like himself.

Larabee offered his hand. "He would have died, but for you."

"He fought hard." Jackson lowered his voice. "A doctor can only do so much. He did most of the work. Too damn stubborn to die. And having you here made a difference, Chris. Made a hell-of-a-difference." Nathan tipped his hat and guided his horse onto the trail to Four Corners.

Chris' brow furrowed as he considered Nathan‘s final claim.

**********

Gibbs chewed on the end of his cigarette, impatiently awaiting word. For almost a week, he, and his three remaining men, had been camping near the fishing spot Vin and Chris liked to frequent. He’d made enquiries in Eagle Bend and heard talk of an attack on Larabee, though few details were available -- apart from the fact that the gunfighter had survived. There was no mention of the men who’d attacked him, though it had to be Dave and the others. Going into Four Corners to investigate further wasn't an option. Word was, Larabee had friends... dangerous friends.

Gibbs was content to wait. Unlike Dave, he had patience... though, it was beginning to wear thin. As soon as Larabee was alone, they’d ride in and find out what happened to the others. If the fools were in the local jail, there wouldn't be a problem. It wasn't the first time he'd broken his men free. If Larabee tried to stop him... it was four to one. No gunfighter was that fast.

Gibbs glanced at his watch and shook his head. This was ridiculous. When he got his hands on Dave, he’d wring his neck. There was another train on Friday... a train carrying a good deal of money and he needed more than four to pull off the heist. Gibbs knew there was a chance one or more of the others could be wounded... maybe even dead, but there was no sense worrying about that. He’d know soon enough.

The sound of an approaching horse had the restless trio on their feet with guns in hand.

A rider broke through the trees.

"Well?"

"The dark fella just rode out. Just leaves Larabee and the one that's sick."

**********

Chris sighed and surveyed his land. All was quiet. He lowered his hand to the revolver he wore and fingered the reassuring coldness of the weapon. What happened ten days earlier was being erased in a physical sense. However, the emotional scars remained, as did many of the questions - questions requiring answers he wasn't certain he'd like.

In the last week, Chris had avoided thinking about any of it, focusing all of his energies on getting Vin well. Despite his friend's ornery complaints about the broth and dry jokes to hide his agony, Chris knew all too well. Even now, Vin was in constant discomfort, yet he didn’t complain and he hadn’t said a thing about what happened.

Larabee’s eyes flicked to the tree in the centre of the yard. He would never... NEVER... forget the moment he’d found Vin hanging there. Something had snapped inside him. He didn’t remember much of what happened next. He recalled carrying Vin inside and he remembered the words, ‘Chris, they were after you.’

Chris shut his eyes in an effort to stop the flood. He was drowning and the question ‘why’ rose above the rest. Why? Why had Vin done it? Why had it happened? Why had he known Vin was in trouble? Why had he allowed Vin to get so close? Why had Vin allowed him to do the same?

Then, Josiah’s words cut through like a beacon of sanity -- ‘some kin don’t need to share blood.’ The problem was, Chris didn’t want kin. He’d battled hard to keep friends away. He didn't want the pain or the responsibility friends and family brought. He’d promised himself he’d never go though the pain of loss again.

Shuffling drew his attention and he glanced back over his shoulder. Vin limped out onto the porch and smiled. "Yep, they're still here."

"What?" Chris asked, striding to the shack and assisting his stiff companion into one of the chairs. Tanner's body went rigid and he held his breath for several seconds. Chris gripped his shoulder.

Vin exhaled and nodded to his friend. "Still a might sore."

"No kidding. What's still here?"

Vin smirked. "The sun. The trees. The grass. Been a while since I seen 'em."

Chris shook his head with amusement and disappeared inside, talking as he went. "Nathan's gone three minutes and you're out of bed."

"He'd make a good prison warden."

Chris chuckled as he reappeared and handed Vin a mug.

"Coffee?" Tanner asked hopefully.

"Nope."

"The pig slop again. Man," Vin groused, sipping it. "Suppose that's coffee?" he complained, indicating Chris' mug.

"Nope. Whisky."

Vin grumbled under his breath and Chris smiled as he sank onto the remaining chair.

Silence fell between them, both content to sit and listen to nature's serenade.

"I think I know who those men were," Chris commented after a few minutes.

"Oh?"

Larabee studied the amber liquid in his mug. "About six weeks ago I was in Eagle Bend. There was a card game. A kid made the mistake of beating that guy Dave... the one I had tied up in the barn," he clarified. "I'm pretty sure it was him, now I think about it."

"Kid?"

"About J.D.'s age. They woulda killed him."

"You poked your nose in and stopped 'em."

"Yeah." It hadn't been much of a confrontation -- all over in about sixty seconds. Dave had backed down immediately, which was why Chris had dismissed the incident. He hadn't taken notice of those involved, but looking back, he realized it had been Dave and his companions.

"That’s all it was, huh? Dave was a crazy bastard. Had to save face."

Chris shrugged.

"Probably been stewing on revenge and lookin' for you all this time."

Larabee glanced at his friend, his guilt rising up and threatening to drown him.

“What?” Vin demanded, without turning to look at Chris.

"I appreciate what you did. You're right. If you'd told them, I’d have been a sitting duck." The creek was the perfect spot for an ambush. Chris was unlikely to have seen the group approach, and Dave was the type to have shot him in the back.

Vin met his friend's gaze and frowned. "You want to know why, don't ya?“

Larabee stared at him.

Vin grimaced and shrugged. “Can't really tell you why. Just... " Vin inhaled, his brow furrowing. "Can't be certain I woulda held my tongue if they‘d been askin‘ about someone else. Like to say I would... but truth is, I'm not sure." Small creases feathered out around his eyes.

Chris' thoughts were interrupted when Vin asked, "Why'd you come back?"

Larabee released his breath noisily. It didn’t look like he could ignore this any longer. He considered the question carefully, trying to recall the moment. “Truth is, I'm not sure." The mirrored phrase brought a snort from Vin. Larabee leaned forward, gripping the mug in two hands as he sought an explanation. "I just... I don't know. Had a sense of you. That you were in trouble. Started for town and then turned around and came here. I don't know why."

Vin rubbed the coarse stubble on his chin, grimacing as his fingers hit a sensitive area. "I've told you about Kitchi, the Indian tracker I spent some time with?"

Chris grunted, staring into the whisky.

"Told me a legend about two braves. Can't remember the whole story... don't reckon I was listenin' proper," he chuckled. "From what I can recall, these two brothers were real close. The younger brother was out with a hunting party when the village was attacked. The older brother was wounded. As he lay dyin‘, he thought of his brother and wished he could say goodbye to him. The younger brother, miles away, was overcome with a sense of his kin and realizin’ he must be in trouble, he led the hunting party back and the village was saved." Vin finished the broth, pulled a face, and balanced the empty mug on his knee. "Kitchi's tribe believed some men's souls... their spirits... can leave the body if the need is great enough... 'specially if it is connected to another soul because they’re kin."

"You think your soul came to say goodbye?" Chris asked sceptically.

Vin snorted. "Don’t even know why I thought of that story. Not sure it means much. I'm just damn pleased you turned up when you did."

Chris returned his attention to his whisky as he reflected on the legend. Brothers. Souls connected by kinship. Chris swallowed. For three years his life had been pain free... but he hadn't been living, for a life without love and friendship, isn't living. Nathan was right about that. He’d tried to push Buck away and failed -- Wilmington was too damn loyal to allow it.

Slowly, Chris turned to Vin, who met his gaze with deep expressive eyes. If he tired to push Vin out, he’d have a hell of a fight on his hands, of that he was certain. In that moment, as he looked at Vin and thought of Buck, he realized he didn’t want to push either of them away. He wanted them in his life because he was ready to start living again.

Chris straightened, searching Vin’s face. Tanner appeared to be doing the same thing. Larabee offered his arm to Vin, who responded by snaking his along it. The grip was firm... unbreakable, like the relationship, trust and faith they shared.

"Kin," Chris declared quietly.

Vin stared at Larabee, his lips curled into a comfortable grin and his chin bobbed. "Reckon so."

Chris bounced Vin's arm once and his brother strengthened his grip. Their eyes spoke and their souls touched in that unique and nebulous way neither really understood but valued more than anything... more than either valued his life.

As they dropped the grip, Vin suggested, "Now, how about a whisky?"

Before Chris could reply, four men emerged from the bushes to the right of the barn.

Chris rose immediately and moved in front of Vin, grabbing the rifle just inside the door and handing it to Vin.

"To your right," Tanner instructed.

Chris took a half-step in that direction, giving Vin a better view, but still providing cover for his friend.

"Stay out of this,“ Chris ordered quietly, before shouting to the approaching men, "What can I do for you?"

Will Gibbs stopped when he was about ten feet from the shack, his men fanning out on either side. "We're looking for someone. Chris Larabee?"

Chris rested his hand on his holster, a gesture noted by his 'visitors'. "You found him. What do you want?" His mind began to whir. He needed to get Vin inside.

Gibbs glanced at Tanner, but after spying on the shack for the last few days, he knew the seated man was ill and so he dismissed him. Returning his attention to Larabee he asked, "Some friends of ours were looking for you. You seen 'em?"

"Got any names?" Out of the corner of his mouth Chris snarled, “Go inside.” He received a very firm, ‘no' in response.

"Dave. Pete. Sam. Tim... ring any bells?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah. They tried to kill me. That your intention?"

Gibbs raised his hands in a gesture of assurance. "Just looking for them, friend. No need to be getting nervous. I don't want no trouble. Let's just say we don't want to attract the attention of the law in these parts."

"Interesting thing to admit," Vin muttered.

"We just want to find our friends and move on. We have somewhere we need to be in a few days."

Chris ran his eyes over the group. They were well armed and looked like they knew how to use the weapons. This had gone far enough. "Vin, go inside. Now.“

Tanner‘s response was a negative grunt. Chris ground his jaw. Damn it, Vin. Get out of the firing line.

“Larabee?“ Gibbs prompted.

“They're dead,” Tanner called.

Gibbs glowered at the gunfighter. "All of them?" Chris nodded. "There wasn't need to kill them, you bastard! Just maybe we should kill you."

"Then you'd be making the same mistake they made.” Chris eyes narrowed and his expression entered the pits of hell. In a voice barely above a whisper, he snarled, “This is finished. If it isn't, we finish it right here... right now." The threat hung in the air.

Vin tensed and raised the rifle so it could be seen. "The left," he whispered.

Gibbs eyed his opponents carefully, his eyes flicking again to the man he could only partially see. Finally, he conceded, “I ain’t got no beef with you, Larabee.“ He shook his head in frustration and anger. "Yeah, it's finished. They do that to your friend?" he asked, indicating Vin.

Chris nodded. "They didn't give us much choice. You still have a choice. Ride out and don't look back."

Gibbs cursed softly, his shoulders slumped, and he turned to his men. "All dead. Damn. It's my fault. I should have killed Dave myself. He wasn't right in the head. Been getting worse the last few months."

Hackett nodded. “Let’s get out of here, Will.”

“Yeah.” Gibbs tipped his hat to Chris and spun to leave. At the last moment he paused. "Did Pete get a decent burial?"

"They all did."

"He was my nephew. Big and dumb, but I promised my sister I'd look after him."

"He had a thirst for blood," Vin murmured. "Nothin' you coulda done woulda changed that."

"Yeah." Gibbs tipped his hat again and led his men toward the bushes they'd appeared from. "Let's get out of here. I want to be in Red Fork by sundown."

Vin and Chris watched them.

"Too easy." Tanner muttered. As the words were uttered, the four men darted for the bushes, turning and firing in what was obviously a practiced and planned move.

Chris lunged to the ground, one arm snaking out and dragging Vin with him. Tanner cried out as his tender body hit the wooden floorboards. However, as the pair dived, they each fired twice. Silence blanketed the area.

Tentatively, Chris rose to his knees. “I took the two on the right.“

“Yep, and I got the bastards on the left.“

“Cover me.”

Vin nodded, raised his rifle and watched intently as Chris jogged to check the fallen... two of which were hidden by the thick brush.

“They’re dead.”

**

Vin relaxed, lowered his rifle and rolled onto his back with a low moan. The pain burning though him, paled in comparison to his relief. When he’d seen the group appear, he’d felt a type of fear he’d never known. Normally, threats were to his safety. This was different. This time, the threat had been to Chris.

Larabee’s growl for him to return inside had been a sensible one, but he couldn’t move... wouldn’t leave his friend to face the group alone. Four was too many. Three, Chris could have handled -- Vin had seen him do it before. Four... it was a risk Vin wouldn’t allow.

Vin exhaled and groaned loudly. Nathan would have had a cow if he’d seen the way Chris had thrown him from the chair.

Chris appeared above him, his face a mask of worry. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Larabee gently eased him upright. Vin gulped and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push away the pain. He toppled against Chris and waited for the blaze in his chest to ease.

“Easy. Easy, Vin.“ He felt Chris’ arm wrap around his back. Larabee’s heart beat thumped in his ear. It was faster than he’d heard it in the past. “I’m going to lift you onto the chair. Vin? You hear me?“

“Yeah,“ Vin croaked. His body rose, the pain igniting again. He cried out startled, and then clenched his jaw so that nothing further would escape.

Chris’ face appeared in front of him, his eyes horrified. “Vin?“

“Relax, Larabee. I’m okay. Just... just a bit sore,“ he panted.

“Let’s get you back to bed and I‘ll give you some laudanum.”

“No. No, let me sit for a spell,” Vin requested, weakly.

Chris was still holding onto his arms and so Vin withdrew them. “I’m okay.”

“Bullshit.”

Vin snorted. “Okay, I’m better then they are.“

Chris followed the inclination of his head and eyed the bodies he’d dragged from the bushes.

Vin looked toward them and nodded. “Now, it’s finished.”

Chris frowned. “Yeah. It‘s finished.”

Fifteen minutes later, Vin was still sitting on the porch, watching Chris drag the last of the dead behind the barn. He could feel the laudanum dulling his senses, a sensation he didn’t like, but welcomed at this moment. The pain was finally easing.

When Chris reappeared looking haggard, Vin grinned. "Let's go fishin'."

“What?”

“Let‘s go fisin‘.”

"Nathan said..."

"He ain't here and what he don't know ain't gonna hurt me. 'sides, I came out here to fish, and fish I'm gonna."

Chris ran a hand through his hair and grinned, the relief on his face palpable. "So, should I take a towel?"

Vin smirked as he remembered his bet with Buck... something that seemed a life-time ago. "Probably a good idea, Cowboy.”