Joy

By Kimberly KBJ

Disclaimers: The characters used are the property of MGM and Trilogy. No financial or creative rights are claimed to the characters from the Magnificent Seven Television series.

Rating: PG-13.

Warnings: Language and Violence.

Spoilers: Pilot and my story, Remembrance.

Notes: A short piece I wrote last night. Not beta-Ed. A thanks to Mel for suggesting I do a 'Chris' story, couldn't rest until I did one. This is an early birthday present to Joan. I hope it is a worthy gift.

Mary called to Vin Tanner as he rode into town on the blazed-face gelding looking a mite weary, but more relaxed from his time spent in the surrounding hills. A slow smile came to his angular features as he walked Peso over to the Clarion, watching Mary water the array of wildflowers thriving in their window box.

"They're lookin' real purty, Mary." A happiness filled him at the sight, reminding him of his mother and the joy the flowers gave her. "Real purty."

"They do look nice, don't they?" Mary stood back admiring the black-eyed Susan, strawflowers, coneflowers, and English daisies, not a typical window box display, but the flowers Vin had remembered from his mother's garden. She had put aside her desire for geraniums mixed with a trailing of vinca vines, impatiens or petunias. His boyish enthusiasm gave her more pleasure than any flower of her choosing could give.

"Have ya seen Chris anywhere 'bout, Mary?" Vin looked around the town, eyes alert to unrest. "Just want t' let him know I'm back."

Mary placed down the watering can as she thought of the gunman. He had left for his place the day Vin had headed out of town and no one had heard from him since. Mary worried, but the men seemed unconcerned, knowing Chris spent days away from town when things were weighing on him. She wasn't sure what had brought on his dark mood, but knew that "drink" would be the cause for his absence. Maybe Vin could help; they seemed to be close, well, as close as men allowed themselves to be. Mary raised her head and smiled at Vin, knowing he was patiently waiting for an answer. His blue eyes held a worry, noting her deep contemplation.

"Chris hasn't been to town since the day you left, Vin." Eyes intent as she spoke. "No one has seen or heard from him. Maybe, you should see if he's alright. Just to be sure." Mary ran her hands through her hair, a nervousness making her fingers play at the blonde strands. "I'm sure everything is fine."

Vin stood watching her for a moment and then nodded his head, hoping that Chris hadn't gone on a drunk, but knowing that was what he did, what he was doing. Tired from the riding and wanting to take a hot bath, but the look in Mary's eyes was all the persuasion he needed to go check on Larabee.

As Vin lifted his weary frame into the saddle, Mary walked over to him with a handful of wildflowers freshly cut. "Wait one minute, Vin." Mary scurried away; long skirts lifted as she raced into the Clarion. She returned with a small canning jar filled with water and placed the wildflowers in it, arranging them with care. Mary smiled remembering Vin's words as she handed them up to him. "Maybe Chris could use a little *joy*."

"Reckon he could, Mary. Reckon he could." Vin grinned and brought fingers to hat brim, grabbing up the reins in one hand and holding the fragile arrangement in the other. He trotted out of town and out of Mary's sight. She sighed, pushing down a worry that seemed to come to her the moment Vin had left her line of vision. Everything's fine, Vin will make sure of it. Mary shook her head at her needless fretting and walked into the Clarion, glancing at the flowers as she passed with a smile.

********

He wasn't in the cabin and Vin smiled at that said, knowing he was being a mite too kind calling it that. Vin walked back outside and saw the black gelding in the corral. Chris couldn't be too far off. He looked around the room and noticed the bottles lying around; some shattered. Dammit, Larabee. Standing quiet thinking on the gunman, Vin smiled to himself remembering the flowers in his hand and placed them with care on the table.

"Yer too damn purty t' be settin' in this pigsty." Vin began picking up the bottles that brought him to sweep up the floor, and in turn made him wash the few dishes. Studying the room with a keen eye, felt satisfied with his efforts. The wildflowers made the place brighter, happier, and Vin grinned, sitting down waiting on Larabee to return.

It wasn't too long before Vin heard the jangling of spurs on the wooden porch, watching as the door opened and seeing the gunman stagger in with a glare and a curse when he spotted the sharpshooter. "What in hell, are you doin' here?"

Chris sat himself down hard in the chair as if bones and sinew no longer existed within him. His head down, elbows on table, he squinted a moment and blinked a few times as he eyed the flowers. "What the hell is that?"

Confusion and anger came to him. What the hell is that? He stood up still looking at the wildflowers, horrified and then looked over at Tanner. "Where'd these come from . . . where'd they come from, dammit?"

Chris lunged at Vin, grabbing his shoulders. "Did you bring these here?" Vin stunned, wanted to calm down the gunfighter, but before he could speak, Chris brought his fist up and struck Vin hard across the jaw, dropping him to his knees.

"You sonofabitch." Alcohol-induced rage carried Chris away and he continued battering the tracker, Vin unable to protect himself from the angry fists and kicks. His mind was hazy, trying to stay alert afraid for himself and for Chris. He tried to make out the drunken words, but only getting bits and pieces of them before he blacked out.

"Cruel joke. Playin' a damn cruel joke, you bastard." Chris' anger ebbed and he fell down beside Vin's beaten frame, stuporous, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Adam. Adam." He closed his eyes to the pain and slept.

********

His head hurt and he was thirsty as he tried to open his eyes without bringing himself too much pain. Damn, he hurt. Chris crawled on his hands and knees to the door and lifted himself up, hanging on to the door latch and then opening the door. The bright light shot him in the head and brought a pain like no bullet could. He raced to the side of the porch and spewed until he had nothing left. Sick felt better than angry. Sick felt better than sad. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his union suit and crawled towards the water pump. Gripping the pump, he mustered the strength to lift up the handle, releasing a moan with the effort. The water flowed and he stuck his head under it, appreciating the cooling comfort it brought him. All too familiar with the thirst, the headaches and the sickness that came after a binge, knew the shaking would soon start. He needed coffee and hoped there was some left, not feeling up to making a pot.

Chris stumbled into the room with eyes closed, feeling less queasy that way. He walked towards the stove like a blind man, feet cautious and slow as he slid them across the wood floor. What the hell is that? His eyes remained closed, hand to his head as he tried to think, coherently. What the hell is lying in the middle of my floor? Open your eyes you damn fool and find out. Chris with great effort opened his eyes and the wildflowers came into view, causing his breath to catch. My God! He dropped to the floor, frightened by the sight of them, placing his hand on the tracker as he fell. Chris startled at the feel of a body and he let out a fearful curse. "Shit!" Who the hell is this? Chris rubbed his eyes several times and opened them, vision blurry and then clear.

"Oh my God, Tanner." Chris rolled the tracker over and brought a shaky hand up to the throat. He felt a pulse, steady and strong. Dear God, what have I done? The sharpshooter's face, bruised and bloodied, prompted Chris to reach for a bandanna and struggled to wipe the blood away. His hands ran over Vin's body, searching for signs of injury and knowing Vin needed Nathan.

Making the decision to go to town, Chris lifted the lean man onto the bed and covered him with a blanket. He ran outside to get the canteen off Peso and left it at Vin's side.

"I'll be back, Cowboy. You stay put. Won't be long." Chris torn, not wanting to leave Vin, but had little choice, not knowing how serious his injuries were. He would not forgive himself for this. "Dammit." He cursed out loud and raced his black towards town.

*********

"Nathan, Nathan!" Chris shouted up at the clinic, bringing the men out onto the dusty road, concerned.

Nathan was out the door, bounding down the steps and at the gunman's side in minutes of hearing Chris' call. "What is it, Chris?" Nathan study the man with a skilled eye. "Are ya hurt?"

Chris lowered his head and spoke with a quiet, broken voice. "Not me. It's Vin. I think he's hurt bad and I did it. I hurt him, Nathan."

The men looked from one to the other and then realizing the seriousness of Chris' words, ran to get their mounts as Nathan went to get his bag. Mary stood by the black gelding looking up at Chris, worry and distress filled her.

"It was the flowers . . . the damn flowers." Chris mumbled to himself as the slow realization of what he had done and why came back to him.

"The flowers?" Mary repeated Chris' words and then she lifted her hand to her mouth, shocked by what he was saying. "What about the flowers, Chris?"

"I got angry with Vin over the flowers. Wasn't thinkin', drunk." Chris held his head in his hands, distraught.

Mary sobbed and placed her hand on Chris' leg. "I had Vin bring them to you, Chris. It was my idea."

Chris raised up his head, looking at Mary and nodded, both not knowing what to say to each other.

Nathan rode up to Chris, the men following, each worried at what they might find. Nathan patted Chris' leg. "Let's go."

*******

The men jumped down from their horses and ran towards the cabin, but Nathan stopped them before they entered. "Stay here." He placed his hand on Chris' chest. "Buck why don't you help Chris get cleaned up." Nathan turned to J.D. "Take care of the horses, okay, J.D.?" J.D. nodded, taking the leads and Ezra following. Nathan nodded to Josiah and they entered the room filled with worry for Vin.

"He's on the bed." Nathan crossed the room in quick strides, pulling back the blanket and "tssking" out loud at the bruises and blood that covered the tracker. "What'd he do t' ya, Vin?" Nathan called to Josiah to get water and some clean cloths and began running his hands over the spare frame.

"How is he, Nathan?" Josiah handed him the water basin and cloths.

"Thank God, it don't feel like anythin's broken, but he's bruised real bad, chest, legs and he must have been blacked out all this time." Nathan started washing the blood away from the sharpshooter's face and winced at the bruising and cuts. "He'll be fine, Josiah. Why don't y'tell the others, while I take care of Vin." Josiah nodded his head and stood up, relieved that Vin would be all right and praying that Chris would be the same.

Josiah walked on the porch and searched for the men. Ezra and J.D. were with the horses; Buck and Chris walking together, talking. The preacher hoped that Buck would be able to get through to the gunman and sent up a silent prayer.

"What the hell happened, Chris?" Buck was well aware of the ugly drunk that Larabee could be, but he could not understand what Vin could have possibly done to set the gunman off like that.

"It was Adam's birthday, Buck." Chris stopped walking and lowered himself to the ground, lifeless.

"I'm sorry 'bout that, Chris. I really am, but I still don't get it. I don't understand what Vin could've done to get ya so riled." Buck waited, knowing Chris wanted to talk, needed to talk, so he sat, patient for the words to come.

"It was somethin' we started . . . we'd gather wildflowers and give them t' Sarah." A sob convulsed from Chris as he spoke, no tears, only deep sorrow. " We had a tradition on Adam's birthday. A thank you to Sarah for giving Adam life, for being his mother." Chris sucked in a breath and waited a moment before he continued. "When I saw those flowers on the table, it. . . I . . . I just went crazy. I knew I wasn't makin' sense, but I couldn't stop m'self. I was mad at the world 'n Vin paid the price."

Buck reached out his hand and squeezed Chris' shoulder. "Ya know Vin'll understand, ya know that don't ya, Chris?" No response. "Hell, you ain't got one bruise on ya 'n ya know that boy c'n fight. He didn't want t' hurt ya last night 'n he sure as hell won't want t' hurt ya today."

Chris looked up at Buck and whispered something making Buck lean in close. "He cleaned the place. Looked nice, the flowers . . . he did that for me."

"I know Chris, I know." Buck kept his hand on Chris' shoulder for a long time. "Let's go see how he's doin', okay?" Chris looked up and nodded his head, getting to his feet.

They spotted Josiah on the porch in prayer and Chris took in a breath at the sight of it. Josiah saw Chris' distress and reached out his hand to him. "He's fine, Chris. Nathan says there's nothin' broke, just a mite bruised is all." Josiah grinned big and Chris smiled back as he headed into the cabin.

Nathan looked up as Chris came toward the bed. "Gave him some laudanum. Came to for awhile. He was worried 'bout cha. Lookin' for ya." Nathan paused as he watched Chris flinch as he took in the bruises that marred the tracker's face. "I told him you was fine 'n not t' worry 'bout that fool gunfighter." Nathan looked up at Chris. "Don't make me int' a liar, Chris." Nathan stood up and they locked eyes for a moment. "Ya hurt him once, Chris. Don't hurt him again by closin' y'self off t' him."

Chris listened to Nathan's words and they hit him hard. Ready to run off or get drunk, knowing he could not forgive himself, but realizing by doing that he would be punishing Vin, hurting Vin. He nodded and held out his hand. "Thanks, Nathan."

"Your welcome, Chris." Nathan walked out the door to the concerned men who stood around and he smiled broad and relieved, giving them a nod that things would be all right.

********

He woke with a moan and brought his hands up to his head, trying to get his eyes to focus. A blurry image sat near him and he rubbed his eyes trying to make sense of it.

"Chris?" Vin whispered, his voice dry and raspy. "Chris?"

Startled and still a bit hung over, Chris brought up his head and smiled when he saw the blue, questioning eyes of the tracker. "Hey, Vin. How ya feelin'?"

A slow smile played on Vin's features as he spoke. "Like some damn cowboy kicked the tar outta me."

Chris winced and dropped his head down. Vin started to sit up, but fell back from the pain in his chest. "Dammit, Larabee. Ya lose yer sense of humor in that bottle?"

Chris looked at Vin. How did he do it? How did he not carry around anger? Chris knew that life had not been easy for Tanner. How did he forgive things so easily?

Chris spoke quiet and unsure. "No, but I'm thinkin' I might've lost a friend."

A quiet then and Vin looking away from Chris. "Cain't git rid of me so easy." Vin still not looking at the gunman. "Sorry 'bout the flowers, Chris."

"Dammit Vin, nothin' for you t' be sorry about. I was crazy mad is all."

"Ya gonna tell me 'bout it? Vin waited, but didn't need Chris to explain. It was done and Chris was alive. That was all that mattered, now.

"You deserve t' know more than anybody." Chris stood and reached for the canteen, his eyes catching sight of the flowers still sitting on the table as if nothing had passed. Lifting Vin's head, he gave him the water and spoke of birthdays, mothers, traditions and sons. Vin nodded with understanding, knowing about all of those things and the lose of them, too.

Vin eyed the wildflowers on the table and looked again at Larabee. "It's not the flowers so much as the joy they bring ya."

Chris lifted up his head at Vin's words. Vin continued. "My ma said it ain't the flowers so much as the joy they bring t' ya. They can still bring ya joy Chris, if ya let 'em. They can help ya t' remember and that's important. The remembering. Remembering the happy times, 'cause that's all we have left of them now. Memories. And that's damn important t' me. I hold on t' it tight 'n don't never let it go. It makes me happy. Gives me joy. 'Bout time y' started doin' the same." Vin sighed and turned away from Chris, weary from all he had been through.

Chris patted the tracker's shoulder, thinking about his words and looked around the room. The whiskey bottles sat on the shelf and he took one down and brought it to the table, placing the tin cup next to it. His eyes glanced down and he saw the wildflowers, hearing Vin's words. "It makes me happy. Gives me joy. 'Bout time y' started doin' the same."

Chris stood and placed the whiskey bottle back on the shelf and walked over to the table. He picked up the flowers and breathed in their scent, remembering Sarah and Adam. Placing the flowers down with care on the table, he began to hum quiet and then louder, until the men outside could hear. They smiled to each other and began to sing along with the gunman, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Adam, happy birthday to you". Chris embracing the *joy* with each word he sang.

THE END

Please email (KBJ) Kimberly with any comments.