J.D. straddled the wooden chair and crossed his arms over the back. His view consisted of random clouds and the roof of the livery, but his mind remained on the man in the bed behind him.

It'd been three days since they'd returned and Buck grew steadily stronger. His fever had broken day before yesterday, but he remained in a great deal of pain and Nathan refused to completely wean him off laudanum and an occasional shot of the morphine Dr. Matthews had left. Buck hadn't been too much for conversation though and it was just as well. J.D. didn't feel much like talking yet. Not until he could clear his head of the pain and confusion that lingered despite more sleep than he normally got in a week. Continuous nightmares and their accompanying demons saw to it that rest wasn't part of the plan.

At least the bad dreams about Buck had stopped. He was going to be just fine and despite Nathan's refusal to say when he'd walk again, J.D. knew that Buck wasn't one to stay laid up too long. Well, if they could stop the townswomen from doting on him so much. J.D. figured Buck would find a way to use his ailments to his advantage, but he'd never seen the like of women clamoring to sit for the gunslinger. Not that he didn't take them up on it once in a while, but truth was J.D. couldn't seem to stay away for too long. He still hadn't forgiven himself for bolting like a spooked colt the first time he saw Buck all banged up and hurting. He promised himself he'd take care of him, wouldn't run scared again. It wasn't just his responsibility, but a burning need to be close and offer whatever comfort he could. Just like Buck would, and did, for him.

A deep sigh followed by a groan alerted him that Buck had decided to come to again. He quickly moved the chair beside the bed and lay a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder.

Buck opened his eyes and looked at JD with more calm and more recognition that JD had seen since the incident.

"Buck. You all right?"

Buck tried to swallow and J.D. filled a cup with water and held it against his friend's lips. Buck sipped slowly before pushing the drink aside. "Takin' up bein' a nursemaid now, boy?"

The gentle tease in his voice sounded so familiar, so normal, that J.D. couldn't help but smile. "You do all right at it, figured it must be pretty easy."

Buck let his head settle back into the pillow. "Where's Nathan?"

"At the hotel, takin' care of Ezra."

Buck's brow furrowed and his eyes asked more questions than J.D. wanted to answer.

"He's gonna be fine." J.D. let the words trail, not ready to bring up the details that would lead straight to the subject of Ethan Foxx. "Nathan just wanted to check up on 'im and get some rest, so I got stuck with you."

"Thanks, kid." Buck said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his tone.

"You ain't too much trouble, 'sides it's the quietest you been since I met ya." J.D. grinned at Buck's attempt to scowl. He hated seeing his friend laid up like this, but it was good to be able to joke with him again.

Buck laughed weakly, then his expression turned serious. "I'm damn proud of you, son."

J.D. stared at Buck, trying to determine if he was fishing for the truth or he already knew it. He didn't think Buck knew much of anything that went on the last few days and certainly nothing he could claim pride in him for. Maybe he was just hallucinating from all that laudanum Nathan kept pouring down his gullet.

"'Course I ain't condonin' that stupid bull-headed stunt you pulled. Goin' after a man like that alone? Ain't I taught you better 'n that?"

"How'd you…" J.D. stuttered, not sure how Buck always seemed to know damn near everything. He could hide a pink elephant from his momma easier than he could keep a secret from this man.

"Chris filled me in on a few things. Prob'ly thought I was too doped up to remember, but I got the highlights, boy."

J.D.'s eyes dropped and he stared into the tin cup in his hands. Apparently Chris had altered the truth a bit and now he'd have to set Buck straight. "Ain't no reason to be proud."

J.D. had done a lot of thinking in the last few days. Contemplating with some lucidity for a change and replaying all the alternatives to shooting down a man continued to plague his mind. He could have winged Foxx, could have brought him back to stand trial; instead he blew the arrogant son of a bitch's head off. J.D. had wanted him dead and he damn well made sure he was.

"You did what any man woulda done."

J.D. stifled a nervous laugh. He wondered if Buck would feel the same way when he found out that killing Foxx wasn't what bothered him. He wasn't proud of his actions, but still, he had a feeling of enveloping peace about them. Foxx deserved to die. No question he did the only thing he could do. J.D.'s only concern now was whether he'd lost the approval and respect of the one man who meant everything to him.

"I know you always say to do it by the book, but I didn't. I could have brought him back alive." J.D. looked up, trying to decipher the expression projected on Buck's face. Trying to determine if admitting the truth would taint him in his mentor's eyes.

He already knew somewhere deep in his heart that Buck wanted him to stay innocent, to be the same naïve kid who pestered the daylights out of them until he was allowed to tag along. And as much as J.D. tried to pretend he was just as seasoned as the rest of the guys, he was really still a wet-behind-the-ears greenhorn. He should be on his knees thanking Buck for making it his responsibility to shield him from those things that would turn him hard or bitter.

Like Chris.

J.D. had no delusions that he understood that kind of grief. Even losing his beloved momma and nearly losing Buck didn't exactly compare to the loss of a wife and child. Or did it?

He wondered if Buck could read the apprehension in his eyes. Revenge had changed something deep within him. Not completely, but enough to propel him closer to that person Buck had tried to prevent. Enough to remind him of just how innocent that boy who'd jumped off the stage had truly been.

"Chris said he damn near killed you first. Figure that mighta had some bearing on what you did."

"I didn't have to kill him."

"You did what you had to do, son. Ain't no shame in it."

"I wanted him dead." J.D.'s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

A brief look of astonishment crossed Buck's face at his confession, but J.D. saw no condemnation. "I suspect you done the whole country a favor there."

"I know."

"Nothing to fret or feel guilty about."

"I don't feel guilty."

J.D. pushed slowly, revealing only a layer at a time to judge Buck's reaction. His need to spill the truth held in check by the apprehension that his judgement would somehow fail the person he never wanted to hurt.

"Do you think you oughta feel guilty? You want me to say you're a bad person for taking out a rabid animal like Foxx? Cause you ain't gonna hear that from me. Or a judge, and especially not your friends."

J.D. stared hard into Buck's face, trying to read beyond the words. If his friend harbored any disappointment, J.D. couldn't see it. Acceptance and empathy unfolded instead and he felt the worry of failure lifting from his soul.

And now he wanted to tell him he wished Buck had been with him his whole life. That he would always need his strength and his wisdom and would be completely lost without him. Except all the words crowding in his brain refused to come out. Thoughts and feelings that he'd thought he had to express he continued to hold back. He just couldn't say it. Couldn't spill his guts without sounding overly emotional.

Except that seemed all right, too.

The tone of Buck's voice and the look in his eyes told J.D. that his best friend, his brother, didn't have to be told to know everything that lay in his heart. That words, spoken or not, couldn't make their bond any stronger.

*******

Buck sucked in a painful breath as he struggled to sit up. He needed to be sure J.D. got the message and being flat on his aching back wouldn't gain him much credibility. "You don't feel guilty 'cause your gut told you letting that murdering bastard live would most likely mean at least one more innocent person would die. You didn't kill him 'cause you wanted to, you sacrificed a piece of yourself for all of us."

J.D. seemed to brighten as he recognized the genuine pride in Buck's words. "I just didn't wanna let you down."

"Not likely, kid." Not ever, Buck silently corrected himself. "You had a tough call and you did exactly what I woulda done. Takes courage to make a decision like that. To realize sometimes there is no right, just a less wrong." Buck leaned back, his mouth breaking into a wide grin. "Stand up for what's right, don't go lookin' for trouble and back away from it when you can. Just don't let me catch you gettin' all cocky and thinkin' it's your callin' to play God."

J.D. shook his head. "Don't plan on it, Buck. I hope I ain't never gotta make a decision like that again in my life."

Buck swallowed the roiling emotions building in the pit of his stomach. This wouldn't be the last grueling judgment the boy would have to face. Harsh country usually made for harsher men, but he wouldn't let that happen to J.D. There was a way to balance life's lessons without bitterness or hatred, just like his mother had taught him. Next time he'd be there when J.D. needed him. He'd guide him through whatever came their way and hopefully take away a little bit of the sting that reality liked to heap on in spades.

"Well, then, maybe you still need somebody around to run shod over ya? Show you the ropes so you don't go and get your fool hide hung with 'em?"

J.D. smiled, trying hard to keep the corners of his mouth from trembling. "Maybe."

Buck returned the grin, his aches forgotten for the moment at least. "Maybe we both do, kid."

THE END