LaraMee Deux

Rated: PG

Characters: Chris and JD mostly

Disclaimer: They're not. I don't. There's no justice in the world! Mirisch, MGM, Trilogy, CBS, TNN, they've never known what a treasure they have!

Synopsis: JD is hurt. Chris and Vin find him. Vin goes for help, leaving Chris to tend the Kid, with a little help from the past.

Notes: I love to watch Michael Biehn in any scene that contains a child. There is this aura of nurturance that just flows through the man! Well, from that came this thought... what if Chris had to care for an injured JD...'our' Kid? Also, the Wedding Ring Quilt was not actually a design until 1890, so I've taken a little license in using it here. BUT, it is fiction!

  Chris Larabee looked down from where he was re-shingling the roof of his shack when he heard a familiar whistle, followed by an even more familiar call.

"Vin comin' in!"

"Hey pard," Larabee replied, then frowned. Tanner was riding Peso and leading JD Dunne's horse, Milagro. "What's going on?"

"Ain't for certain. I was on m' rounds and found 'r. She ain't got nothin' wrong, far's I can see. You know where the Kid is?"

By this time the gunslinger had come down from the roof and strode over to his friend. "Well, I ain't been in town since yesterday, but if I remember right, he's got the afternoon off."

With a smile, Tanner said, "prob'ly at th' fishin' hole."

Returning the smile, Chris said, "Casey back?"

"Nope. I was out t' see Miss Nettie yesterday 'n she said she'll be back end a th' week."

"Well, then, reckon one of us better go rescue him. Otherwise he'll have a long walk back to town."

"Yep, and a hard way t' go when he gets there, if Buck finds out he let th' horse wander off. I'll go get 'm."

"Let me saddle Pony, and I'll go with you. I could do with a break, and can't say I want to miss his face when we get there."

The two men shared a laugh. The gunslinger quickly saddled his black gelding, strapped on his sidearms, more from habit than need on such a trip, and joined the tracker for an afternoon ride.

The fishing hole that JD Dunne, among others in the area, frequented, was about half an hour from the little one room shack Chris had built. In that time, the two friends had exchanged no more than a dozen words. It was nothing unusual for the duo. Buck joked that they were actually mind-readers and actually never stopped talking between themselves, making it difficult for them to talk to anyone else. But, they had just never needed many words. So it was now, as they looked at one another; hazel eyes locked with blue. There was no sign of the young sheriff as they approached their destination.

"Reckon he's headed back t' town already?" Tanner asked.

"Maybe, but the best way back's the way we just came."

"Yeah, but this is JD we're talkin' about."

With a chuckle, Chris nodded. "True. Let's look around while we're here just in case."

The two men rode to the water's edge, dismounted, and left the horses to graze. While Chris took the 'low road' along the bank, Vin bounded nimbly to the top of the big stone outcropping. From his vantage point he looked down at the surrounding landscape. He was quickly glad that he had taken this route.

"CHRIS!"

"See him?" Larabee called out.

"Yep, get t' th' far side a the rock, quick!" That said, the tracker found the quickest route down, bounding to the blond's side just as Chris found the youngest member of their group. "He okay?"

JD Dunne lay half in and half out of the water, face down on the bank. Larabee touched the youth's neck tentatively. Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he said, "he's alive. Let's get him turned over and out of the water."

Carefully the two men moved the Easterner. While he didn't wake, Dunne groaned softly as his friends pulled him the rest of the way from the water, shifted him to his back, and lay him on the ground once more. Larabee began checking the kid out. He had a bad gash on his head, that injury was quickly evident when he carefully brushed back the long black bangs. Running his hands over the younger man's limbs, he found a second injury. JD's right leg was definitely broken.

Vin had hurried away to fetch the horses, returning with the mounts a few minutes later. Peso was the only animal carrying a bedroll, and the tracker removed it quickly. "How is he?"

"Leg's busted, he's got a bad cut on his head. Can't find anything else, but that don't mean there ain't something busted inside. Nathan still out at the Carson's?"

"Yep. Abe's in a bad way."

Studying the situation, the blond said, "alright. Quickest way for us to get things done - "

"We get 'm back t' your shack an' I'll go fetch Nathan."

Sparing a quick smile at the thought that maybe Buck was right after all, Larabee said only, "yep."

They worked quickly, easing him out of the soaked clothing, taking special care of the broken leg. It was already late afternoon, the air beginning to cool. If he remained in those clothes for the trip back to Chris' place, the afternoon breeze could complicate his health problems even more. That finished, they wrapped him in the blanket and set about binding the young man's head wound with Vin's bandana and immobilizing his broken leg with branches and cloth. As they had before, both men were silently grateful that Nathan Jackson insisted they carry at least rudimentary supplies in case they were hurt on the trail. Satisfied that they had him as ready to travel as they could, they prepared to take him back to Larabee's shack.

"Can you pass him up to me?" The blond asked.

Nodding, the sharpshooter held onto the still unconscious young man. As soon as Chris was on his gelding's back, Vin lifted him up, Larabee taking him into his arms. JD groaned, his eyes fluttering open for a second, then closing once more. The blond adjusted the blanket around the smaller man, took up his reins and nudged the horse forward. Dunne moaned at the sudden movement.

"Take it easy, Kid," Chris said softly. "I've got you, it's okay."

"Ch...Chris?" Unfocused hazel eyes fluttered open once more, but refused to stay open.

"Yeah, it's okay JD. Rest easy, you're going to be fine."

"Wha...at happened?"

"Ain't for certain, Kid. Hoped you could tell us."

There was no answer, though, as Dunne drifted back into unconsciousness.

They were forced to travel slowly, taking almost twice as long to return to Chris' place as it had to find Dunne. Chris reined in Pony at the porch, Vin at his side immediately to take the unconscious youth into his arms. They got him into the shack quickly, settling him onto the narrow bunk in the far corner. They pulled the now damp blanket from around him and covered him over with fresh ones from Larabee's supply. While Vin finished making the younger man as comfortable as possible, the blond started a fire in the stove.

"Reckon I'll head off for Nathan."

"Okay. Look Vin...I know that Nathan's going to have a hard decision to make if Abe's as bad as all that. But -"

"I'll get 'm here quick's I can, Chris." Vin said quietly. Gently rubbing JD's shoulder, he said, "hang in there pard. Chris'll take good care a y' til me 'n Nathan get back." Straightening, he exchanged a look with the gunslinger. Nodding and touching the broad brim of his hat, he left the little house.

Chris watched him go, sighing as the door closed. It would be tomorrow at the earliest before they could make it back. Carson's homestead was in the opposite direction from town, no way for Vin to get word to Buck and the others and go after Nathan. Then, too, if Abe was too bad, Nathan would most likely bank on Larabee being able to take care of JD. It wasn't that he didn't want to do it, it was that nagging concern in the back of his mind. The one that began with 'what if?' JD was young and strong, his injuries weren't life-threatening as far as he could tell. But what if he was wrong? He knew far too well what hell could come from being in the wrong.

A sound drew the gunslinger's attention to the bed; JD was trying to wake up. He knelt beside the narrow cot, placing a hand on each side of the tossing head. Rubbing a thumb gently against the stubbled cheek, he said, "JD? Wake up Kid. Come on, it's okay. Can you open your eyes for me?"

Slowly unfocused hazel eyes fluttered open, lids settling at half mast. "Chris?"

"Well, at least you know me," Larabee joked. "How're you feeling?"

"Head...hurts. So's my...leg."

"Imagine so. Do you remember what happened?"

The young brunet considered the question for awhile, but couldn't shed any light on the reasons for his pain. "Last thing I re...member is eating br...breakfast."

Seeing that Dunne was becoming upset, Larabee said softly, "it's okay JD, don't worry about it. Vin and I found you at the fishing hole. You had all your clothes on, so I don't think you were swimming. You've got a gash on your head, which is probably why you're having a hard time remembering. You've also got a broken leg. Now, do you know where you are?"

Frowning, JD said, "you're place?"

"Yep," he wasn't real familiar with head injuries, but he had seen men with their brains rattled before. He knew that a lot of times they didn't know who they or anyone else were, or where they were. As long as JD knew those things, then maybe he'd be all right after all. "Vin went to get Nathan, so all you've got to do is rest until they get back, okay?"

With a tentative nod that resulted in a grunt of pain, Dunne closed his eyes again. Chris watched him for a few minutes, monitoring the teenager's breathing and looking for signs of pain. While he grimaced several times, he otherwise seemed to be resting well. Finally Larabee tore himself away and went back to the stove. He had some herbs left over that Nathan had given him for a couple of cracked ribs. It was supposed to be for pain, so it should help the Kid with the pain he was in. Chris dug out the little packet, added it to a pan of water, and set it on the stove to heat. He watched JD for a few more minutes, but the young man seemed to be okay. A man of action, Larabee needed to do something. Leaving the door open, he went out and tended to the horses, listening for sounds that could signal problems inside.

Returning to the shack, he found the water coming to a boil, and JD's eyes open. He was staring, so still Chris grew concerned. Standing over the bed, he said, "JD?"

Slowly the eyes tracked toward him, finally managing to find the gunslinger. "Yeah?"

Quickly relaxing, the blond said, "you okay?"

"I think."

Going to the stove, he poured the strong smelling brew into a mug and returned to the cot. Kneeling next to the little bed, he carefully lifted the dark head from the bed and helped Dunne drink the tea. After the first sip, JD grimaced, trying to turn his head away from the mug. Larabee held him steady. "I know it tastes like hell Kid, but it'll help the pain. Come on and drink up."

"Chris...please. It's aw...ful," the young sheriff groaned.

Chuckling, Larabee said, "I know. It's the same horse piss I had to drink after Will Corey sucker punched me in the ribs last month. It didn't kill me, though, so you'll live. Now, quit making that face and drink, or I'll hold your nose and pour it down your throat." The gentle tones took the edge off the threat.

JD allowed the man in black to feed him the tea, leaning heavily against Chris' arm and shoulder. As the brew began to chase away the pain, he could register the comfort of being supported against the other man. Larabee's touch was gentle, and cradled in the crook of the black clad arm Dunne also felt secure. He allowed the last of the tea to trickle down his throat as he drifted back toward oblivion.

Feeling the young man relax, Chris smiled and eased him back to the mattress. Setting the mug down, he straightened the blankets and brushed the unruly black bangs back. Gently he touched the unshaven cheeks, holding to the last vestiges of baby fat, and frowned at the warmth he felt there. The last thing JD Dunne needed was a chill on top of his injuries.

By the time night fell, Larabee was becoming more concerned. JD had begun to shiver, even though he was tucked beneath three blankets, and the stove was hot enough to all but melt the mud caulking from the walls. Chris sat beside the bed, talking softly to the now delirious adolescent. "It's okay JD, just try and relax. Nathan will be here in a few hours, and he'll get you back on your feet in no time."

Dunne didn't respond, locked now in fever-induced nightmares. He tossed and turned, mumbling nonsense words and groaning. Larabee had elevated his broken leg, lifting it into an overturned saddle that would not only elevate, but confine the injured limb as much as possible. JD was swaddled in blankets and still he shivered. Suddenly Chris remembered a final covering, one that he had stored away long ago, with no intention of ever using. Fighting that tiny voice that said it shouldn't be disturbed, he went to his war chest and opened it with trembling fingers. Pulling a quilt from the chest, he gently shook it out and folded it over the young man. Returning to his seat, he caressed the neatly stitched inscription on one corner...

"Well sweet woman," he whispered. "I swore once that I'd never allow another person to touch this again. But...he's my friend, Sarah, and he's sick. Help me keep him warm."

Chris' face broke into a broad smile when, a few minutes later, JD stopped shivering and settled deeper into sleep.

Larabee startled awake, shocked that he had fallen asleep in the first place. The lantern gave out the only light, so it was still night. He stretched, grunting when his back complained. "I'm getting too damn old to sit in a chair all night."

There was a soft chuckle from the bed. "Still night...out."

Sitting forward, the blond found JD watching him. His eyes still shone with fever, but he seemed to be truly awake. "Hey, Kid," he said softly, "How you feeling?"

"I'm okay...I -" His words were cut off with a groan as he tried to rise.

Chris was quick to slip an arm beneath the younger man and lowered him back to the mattress. "Lay still, okay? You don't need to be trying to move just yet, hear?"

"Ye...yeah," Dunne groaned. "What ha...ppened to me?"

"Don't know for sure. You couldn't remember earlier, either. How about now?"

JD frowned, staring at the blond. "No...should I?"

With a grin, Larabee said, "not necessarily. You hit your head somehow, and sometimes that keeps a person from remembering things. You know who you are, right?"

"JD Dunne..." the brunet said softly.

"Where you are?"

"Your place, Chris."

"Well, that answers my next question," the gunslinger teased. "How's your head?"

"I've got a...helluva head...ache."

"How about your leg?"

"Hurts. I broke it...right?"

"Yep. Are you warm enough? Too warm? Thirsty? Hungry?"

JD giggled, listening to the laconic gunslinger rattling off so many words at once striking him as funny. "I'm fine. I wouldn't mind...a drink. Don't think I could...eat right...now."

Chris left the chair and came back with a mug of water. Once more lifting the dark head gently and tipping the mug toward JD's lips, he let the young man drink the cool water slowly. When Dunne was finished, he helped him settle onto the bed. Taking up a cloth, he wiped the perspiration from the teen's face.

"Thanks Chris," JD whispered. "Sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?"

"Didn't mean to...be a bur...den."

Larabee frowned. "You're not a burden, Kid, don't be foolish."

"I just...don't want to...put you out."

The blond sighed then. "JD, you're one of us. I've told you that before, and I don't say things I don't mean. You're not putting me out any more than Buck, Josiah or Vin would if it had been one of them hurt."

"But it was me."

"Kid, go on back to sleep. You're talking foolish."

"No...I'm not, for...once. I always...mess up."

Chris rubbed a callused hand over his face. "John Dunne, I thought you'd outgrown this silliness. You don't have to prove anything to me, or anyone else, and you're not a burden."

The young man smiled, feeling comfort in those words. Despite the months that had passed since Chris had agreed to let him remain at the Seminole village, he still had his doubts that he was truly accepted as one of the seven men. "Thanks Chris."

Larabee patted the young man's shoulder, his hand resting on the years old embroidery. Absently his hand stroked the needlework, tracing the letters. He returned to the stove, preparing to mix up more of the herbal tea for JD's headache.

Back on the bed, JD struggled to focus on the quilt's corner. It took a few minutes to focus his eyes enough to read the brief inscription, but when the words sank in, he was immediately struck by their meaning. By the time Chris returned with the tea, he was fighting back tears.

"You okay? Pain worse?" Chris asked with concern when he saw the tears swimming in the young man's eyes.

"Sarah...made this?" Dunne asked softly.

Larabee's eyes darted away, but settled back on the teen with no sign of the stab of pain he had felt. "Yeah. Come on now, time for some more horse piss."

They were quiet then, JD trying to choke down the bitter tea. Chris cradled the dark head in his arm once more, supporting the younger man gently. Once the mug was emptied, he carefully eased him back to the bed. Straightening the covers, he found that he couldn't keep his gaze from the stitching. Without even realizing it, he traced the letters, almost caressing them.

"Chris, I'm..I'm warm enough if...you want to...take the quilt...off," Dunne said with a tone of reverence.

"What? No JD, it's fine. You're more important than...a blanket."

"Chris..."

"Why don't you go on back to sleep, huh?"

"I'm okay. Talk to me a little while? Just til I do fall asleep?"

"You know talking ain't my strong suit."

That evoked a smile from the young brunet. "Yeah, I know. Just thought maybe....well...I...I'd like to hear about the quilt...about Sarah..."

"JD, I -"

The young man turned his head, coloring with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Chris, I...I wasn't thinking....I'm - "

The blond's face was smiling and sad at the same time. "Stop apologizing JD. It's okay. Do you want to know about the quilt?"

Dunne hesitated, but knew that he'd gone to far to back away now. He nodded. "Just a little, only what you...want to tell me."

Chris settled back in the chair. He was facing the young man, but he was looking into the distance, back through the years. "Sarah started putting it together the day I asked her to marry me. It's called a wedding ring quilt, and she had it finished the day we got married. We slept under it that night..." he shook himself, grinning at JD. "But I ain't telling you about that."

JD chuckled.

"This quilt was always on our bed, unless Sarah took it off to wash it. That's..." he stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing. "That's why I've got it now. When...when Buck and I came back from...Mexico...it was out on the line."

Dunne opened his mouth, ready to apologize again. He wanted to make him to stop, hated that he had pulled sad memories to mind. But Chris was still far away, and JD wasn't certain he would hear him. Then he saw the blond's expression change, and he continued.

"She was always so proud of this quilt. That wife of mine...she wasn't much for sewing. This quilt was the first thing she'd had the patience to complete. I used to tease her, tell her I was going to get a store-bought covering for the bed. She'd fuss at me until she'd realize I was teasing her." The blond smiled wickedly and winked. "Sarah could hit awfully hard."

JD laughed, relieved to see his friend smiling. It was also nice to have some small insight into Chris Larabee's past. He so often held it close, hidden from those around him. Josiah had once said that if Chris didn't learn to share his past it would destroy his future. JD hadn't been certain just what the preacher had meant, but he had an idea, and it wasn't anything good. But, most of all, it was just nice to have the gunfighter trust him with something that was evidently personal for the man. With that thought spinning in his mind, JD Dunne fell asleep.

Chris watched the young man's eyes close, not moving until he watched JD's chest rise and fall in an easy rhythm. He touched the teen's cheeks, satisfied that the fever seemed to be going away. Once again his hand strayed to the quilt, touching it gently so as not to wake the young man it covered.

"Think he's going to be okay, sweet woman," he whispered. "Thank you."

Morning came, sending gentle light into the cabin. Chris yawned and rubbed a hand across his face, then moved to blow out the lantern. He opened the shack's single door, looking out at the dew-misted landscape. If Vin was able to drag Nathan away as soon as he reached the Carson's homestead, they would be arriving in the next hour or so. Of course if the healer couldn't leave for awhile...

Well, he'd face that when and if it happened.

Chris wondered if Buck had noticed that JD wasn't back yet. It could be that the big man had been caught up with whatever lady he'd been pursuing lately, he might not yet have noticed that Dunne hadn't returned. The others might have noticed, but Buck was usually on top of whatever the Kid was doing. They would rely on him to decide when and if to worry about his absence.

"Morning," came a greeting from the bed.

Larabee turned to find JD leaning on his elbows, looking up at him. "Good morning. How you feeling today?"

"Better, thanks."

"Well, you're looking a bit better. I think you ought to lay back down, though," he noticed that the young man's arms were trembling.

With a rueful smile, Dunne complied. He watched as Chris busied himself at the stove, fixing breakfast for them both. The morning sun was warming up the room, and he was beginning to perspire beneath the heavy coverings. He was loath to move the quilt though, feeling his touch would be something akin to being sacrilegious. It also gave him a feeling of comfort and connection; with the hero that had become his friend and mentor, and to the man he had been before fate had forced him down a darker path. He endured the growing warmth until Larabee brought him a plate of food.

"JD," Chris asked in a concerned tone, "you okay? You're sweating."

"Just getting a little warm," Dunne admitted.

"Well, let's get some of these covers off you." He dropped the plate to the chair, and took the quilt. With an uncommon gentleness, the hardened gunman removed the quilt, folding it carefully and returning it to the chest. He had no such reverence for the wool blankets, which were simply flipped over the foot of the bed. Leaving only a single blanket covering the young man, he asked, "better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Nodding, Chris helped JD to sit up, leaning heavily against the wall behind him. He settled the plate on Dunne's lap and waited to see if he could handle it alone. When he was satisfied that the injured man could eat without help, he retrieved his own plate and returned to sit beside him. They ate in near silence, JD's headache keeping him from his usual endless chatter. Although he would never admit it aloud, Chris would be glad for a return of those endless, pointless jokes. It would mean that the Kid was on the mend. Just as they had finished eating, the sound of horses approaching came to the men.

Stepping out to the porch, Larabee searched the landscape around them. He was quickly rewarded with the sight of Vin Tanner and Nathan Jackson riding hard for the cabin. He turned and smiled in at the injured younger man. "They're here," he said simply.

Chris and Vin sat on the porch, sharing coffee and quiet while Nathan tended to JD's injuries. The reunion had been bittersweet. Abe Carson had died just before Vin had arrived at the homestead. He had walked in to find Emma Carson and the couples children locked in a tight circle of grief. Calling Nathan out onto the porch, he gave him a quick rundown of what had happened. They had stayed long enough to get an inconsolable Emma to drink some of Jackson's special tea so she could get some rest. Abe had been ill for over a week, and she had slept little. Vin promised the children he would return to help with the burial if they wished, and the two men had ridden out. Riding through the night hours, they were able to make it back to the blond's shack in good time.

Nathan stepped out onto the porch with the other two men. "He'll be fine with some rest. There's no sign of anything more serious than a concussion, and that seems to be pretty mild. If you don't mind, Chris, I'd like him to stay here tonight. We can take him back to town in a buckboard tomorrow."

Nodding, Larabee said, "that's fine Nathan."

"Want us t' gag 'm so he don't drive y' crazy with 's jokes?" Tanner laughed.

Smiling, Chris said, "no, that's okay. I think I'll ride into town and let Buck know. You boys get some rest, you both look about done in." With that he went to saddle his horse.

"Oh oh, Nathan," Tanner quipped. "I think he's runnin' out on us. Reckon he's gonna stick us with listenin' t' them three-legged dog jokes?"

Chris just shook his head. "Can't be any worse than your harmonica playing, pard."

Tanner and Jackson laughed. Larabee quickly readied the black gelding and, with a tip of his hat, rode off toward town. Things were getting back to normal all ready.

The End.