There Will Be a Reckoning (Kozmo)

[Doc_Holliday]

(I am taking some liberties, and just wanted to get something out here. As always, tell me anything that I need to change, or if you wanted something set up differently.)

The small isolated town that their little group called home had become a magnet for people looking for trouble. It had started with the deputy that Doc later regrettably let go, and once others got wind of where he was, they flocked to him, looking for a chance to claim the notorious gunman's reputation for their own. Doc put it in his mind that it was better to hide out in the open, and he had seamlessly slipped back into "proper" society in a larger city, his name usually being enough to deter trouble when it found him. Naturally, his family had followed, and admittedly Sarah was pleased to find herself back among so many people again. She was back to living how she had grown up and was accustomed to. She owned many high fashion gowns thanks mostly to the gambling habits of her brother, but rarely had a chance to wear them. Naturally, Doc bestowed the same lavishness on all of the women in his life. Mostly, she dressed modestly, focusing on practicality rather than appearance.

She was dressed in such a way this particular evening; nothing extravagant but somehow beautiful anyway. It was prime time for women and men alike to be out and about, parading their newest garments and catching up on whatever gossip they had missed since the night before. She met the gaze of individuals in passing offering a gentle smile and a kind word. Gentleman nodded in acknowledgement and ladies returned the smile, with a friendly "How do you do?" Sarah Holliday was well liked, but many others were wary of her, simply because of her blood tie to Doc Holliday. It wasn't his blood that made her brother the way he was though. Perhaps under different circumstances he could have been a kind man, but past experiences and his unusual perch in this world constantly between life and death made him bitter and angry, and yet he retained a bizarrely cavalier, almost cheerful outward appearance, ever the gentleman...until he was pressed. Sarah could not be more different from the dangerous gambler. She was patient, gentle and warm, while he was intolerant, sarcastic, and had a cruel side to him that could make her stomach churn. On top of his quick temper, he was unmatched in speed by any gunman she knew or had heard of, and his utter disregard for life, his own included, didn't give others any room for bluffing or hesitation.

It was this exact dangerous man she was looking for, even though she had a pretty good idea of where to find him. In fact, she knew exactly where to find him, and he had been there since the night before. As much as she enjoyed the perks of city life, she hated what it did to Doc. He had fallen straight back to his old ways. He drank, gambled for days straight, and further aggravated his health. The saloon she knew him to be in was a popular one, always drawing a large crowd and large amounts of money. Doc Holliday took much of it with him whenever he left. Usually, she made it a point not to seek him out, but for the times that he didn't come home for several nights in row, she liked to make sure he was still alive.

He was indeed. He sat at a table near the back of the establishment, cigarette in his mouth, cards in one hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other. From the look on his face and from the face's of the other men at the table, he again had this table exactly where he wanted it. As usual, he was immaculately dressed, his diamond stickpin in it's familiar place on his necktie. A woman who worked in the saloon, lewdly dressed, was perched on Doc's leg. She had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and every once in awhile she would touch his face, laughing and reveling in the looks she was getting. Doc could not have been more uninterested in her presence, appearing completely oblivious to it in fact. Even so, she was thankful Galatea was not with her. She smiled slightly, recalling past times where Tea had stumbled upon such scenes before. Doc's lap was usually reserved for her. His appearance had not changed for as long as she could remember. He was eternally young, and unfortunately perpetually ill. She couldn't imagine his pain, but she could tell he was wearing himself out. She stood by silently, letting him run himself ragged until he got himself to a point where he would hopefully allow himself to be helped, even if only slightly.

She was brought back suddenly from her thoughts by shouting coming from the back of the saloon. Doc had managed to anger another gambler. He had stood up quickly to better accuse him, pushing his chair out behind him and letting it clatter to the floor. Doc only raised his gaze to meet his, and kept a smug look on his face. This only angered him more.

"You find somethin' funny, dirty cheat?" He spit out angrily, giving the last word with extra malice.

"Cheat?" Doc looked offended. "Why, I would never cheat a friend."

"I ain't your friend," he seethed.

Doc pondered this for a moment. "Oh...well in that case, how about another hand?"

His opponent seemed flustered, but regained his wits enough to fumble for the gun at his belt. "I'll kill you!" Before he could even pull it, Doc stood up, causing the woman to slide from his lap, and rounded the table. He grabbed the man by his shoulder, and at the same time stuck the tip of his knife into the man's gut. He winced and held up both of his hands to signal he would be a threat no longer.

"Next time you plan on trying to kill me, I suggest you don't warn me ahead of time. The element of surprise, that's the key." He eyed the man carefully. "You aren't worth it," he decided out loud. With a slight jerk, he pushed the blade further in, piercing the man's flesh further. He groaned, and Doc finally backed up, taking his knife with him. "Forgive me." He examined the blade and wiped the blood left on it onto the man's shirt. "Unsteady hands, you understand. I believe I have had far too much to drink." His victim stumbled backwards where his friends were waiting to bring him to his feet and drag him away, muttering about his idiocy the whole time. They avoided Doc's eyes, not wanting any further trouble.

Meanwhile, Doc spun on his heel, brought the glass of whiskey to his mouth and finished whatever remained in it. He signaled the bartender for more, waving a hand in his general direction drunkenly. Once he had seated himself again, Sarah approached him quietly, so as not to draw attention. She touched a hand to his shoulder slightly, on the other side of where the woman had reclaimed his leg as a chair. He didn't look at her, but she knew he knew who it was.

"Take it easy, John," she said in her soft voice. "You haven't been home for awhile. You need to rest." She paused, trying to decide how best to bait him. "Tea misses you." As far gone as his mind was now, she knew that Tea's name was her best hope of bringing him back to reality. She wasn't sure if he even knew what point in his life he was in right now. It must have all blurred together.

"Nonsense," he muttered, as if to himself.

Sarah sighed. It had only been a halfhearted attempt. The only person who had been able to pull him away while he was conscious was Galatea. Since coming here, he had regressed quite a bit in his health and behavior, and he seemed to enjoy every minute of it. Sometimes she wasn't sure which reason for coming back here was stronger; to protect his family or to be back in the environment that he seemed to so desperately need. The hitch in his breathing though, told her that he was hurting, and that was clearly because of his rediscovered habits. She could also tell, by the blood soaked cloth in his vest pocket, that he wasn't going to last much longer tonight. She looked around as if looking for someone to help her, but not a person would dare.

[Galatea]

She had been born here, but she still couldn't believe it could have changed so much in eight years. She knew her father had something to do with it, but she was never sure what, our why. Her father was a good man; one who was willing to show her attention and spoil her rotten. She had the best of everything-the diamond pendant around her neck was worth a small fortune alone! He showered his dsughter lavishly, so to her way of thinkin' he was a good man.

Well, when he was around, anyway. He spent a lot of time in the saloons now, especially when her mother was away. Her mother was beautiful, and when Celeste was a child she had wished to look like her infamous mother. That her mother was Galatea Sullivan, and her father was Doc Holliday didn't phase her. Despite appearances and tales, her parents were a normal couple, to her way of thinkin'. But she wanted her daddy, now. He had been gone for too long now. Despite her independence, she sometimes just wanted a cuddle, and her father would give her those. In the absence of her mother, she had a substitute.

Shaking back the wild cloud of her scarlet locks, she paused to look in the mirror. Her eyes were her favorite feature, and they were rimmed in kohl tonight. Her dress was modest, but elegant, in a deep green rimmed in gold. She looked every inch the lady, and she had to tonight. She would find her father and bring him home. She was willing to pit her stubbornness against his any day. She was, after all, his daughter. She carried his blood in her veins. That thought buoyed her as she turned her steps towards the saloon. She had never been inside, ever; her parents had forbidden her. But it looked like any other place out here, at least from the outside, and people always laughed and music always played. Surely it couldn't be that bad, could it?

Chaser worked the door. She knew Chaser-he'd been raised by Aunt Sarah-but he woulda be the toughest challenge. He knew she was only sixteen. So it surprised her when he waved her in, with a grin.

"Don't tell your daddy I let you in here."

"What? Chaser who? I didn't see Chaser!" She feigned, and he laughed. She liked Chaser, she decided. Her eyes went wide as she stared around her in awe. Everything was so shiny! They had a god-honest mirror along one wall, and paintings on another. The piano sang brightly, while a singer crooned along. Everything was busy, everything was colorful... And she should stop staring. Really, she should. A hand decending on her shoulder caused her to yelp, and a chuckle came from the culprit.

"Lassie, hour didja get in here?" Her uncle laughed. Well, he wasn't really her uncle, but she lived him like he was. He'd lived with Aunt Sarah since before she was even born!

"I came to get daddy to come home." She wasn't afraid. This was her uncle. Surely he would understand.

"Ach, lassie, ye shouldna be in here." He sighed as he scrubbed his fingers through his auburn locks. Uncle Tarquin was a handsome man, to be sure. Once, as a little girl, she had a crush on him.

"Neither should daddy. Mama would be furious if she were here." She spoke proudly, and heard her uncle sigh.

"Ye didnae hear this from me. He's in tha back, with yer aunt."

"Thanks, Uncle Tarr!" She went on her toes and pecked him noisily on the cheek, before heating towards the commotion.Her aunt was there, looking helplessly at daddy, and she sighed. Aunt Sarah wasn't going to like this. Still...

"Daddy? Mama's train is comin' Dontcha wanna come see her?" She would try, too. After all, this was her family.

[Doc_Holliday]

She gave a sigh of relief when she caught sight of Tarquin, and debated whether to join him right away or not. She hesitated and took this opportunity to simply watch him for a moment, the Irishman's handsome figure bringing a playful smile to her lips. There was something so immensely comforting about his presence to her. That man could quell almost any worry or fear she had. She looked back to Doc again, who seemed perfectly content where he was. As much as she would have liked to bring him home, she knew in her mind that there was no way she would be able to by herself. She sighed and tugged on his sleeve one last time, but he shrugged her off impatiently. She looked around again for Tarr and when her eyes found him, her smile faded. Celeste gave him a peck on the cheek and then turned her gaze over towards herself and Doc. She had every ounce of fire that Galatea had, and so often she made her laugh with her tenacity. She was a beautiful young woman and was growing up far too quickly. She loved that girl like she would love a daughter. She couldn't blame her for seeking everyone out, even if her mother did not want her here.

She gave the girl a little shake of her head to reprimand her for coming here, but the faint smile that accompanied the gesture told her she wasn't really upset with her, merely the situation. Celeste was by no means a sheltered girl. She was intelligent, quick-witted and could handle herself on a level playing field easily, but that didn't mean she had nothing to worry about in an environment like this. Being such a young, beautiful girl, she had plenty to worry about in fact.

"Celeste," she warned quietly, throwing a quick glance back towards the door in a failed attempt to convince the girl to leave. She moved out from her place of security and gently grabbed Celeste's arm, pulling her back around behind Doc with her.

One split-second upwards glance from Doc told Sarah that he had already seen Celeste and knew that she was here. Celeste got close behind Doc, asking him to leave and come see Galatea. Sarah was hopeful that maybe his daughter might be able to coax him back from wherever he was, mentally. She had never tried. As nervous as she was for Celeste being here, she gave it a few minutes to see what might happen. After all, no one in their right mind would harass any relative of Doc Holliday, least of all his daughter. Doc didn't like to call attention to his family. They were targets for anyone that felt they had something to prove to or settle with the gunman. The problem with saloons was that most people were not quite in their right minds at all. Not only did they attract dangerous people, but the way they all plied themselves with alcohol made it a wonder more people walked out alive sometimes.

Celeste's only signal of recognition from her father had possibly been too quick for her to see. He continued with his game as if she were not there, but he was more tense than he had been a few minutes ago.

"You shouldn't be here, darlin'. Sarah, take her home." He had leaned back slightly against the back of his chair so he didn't have to speak as loud for them to hear him, and at the same time, met Celeste's gaze with a wink. He had never said an unkind word to her, and had never so much as expressed unhappiness with her, but he did not want her here. His behavior was different towards Celeste, and disarming as always. He was a master at deflecting attention away from him and making it seem like all was well.

The woman wrapped around him laughed and looked Celeste up and down. "Go on home to Mama, sugar," and she purposely ran her fingers through Doc's dark blonde hair. She too had obviously had too much to drink. To her, no man, married or unmarried, was off limits. She had entertained and flirted with men of all types within these walls. She seemed to have a specific fondness for Holliday though, enjoying his dangerous behavior and often encouraging it. For all her efforts though, Doc never so much as gave her a second glance. He put up with her simply because he had no desire to be unkind to a woman. Instead he mostly just ignored her and would probably have trouble recalling her name while sober. Sarah tightened her grip on Celeste's arm and shot the woman a withering glare, but didn't dare say a word in case something less than lady-like might escape.

"Come on, honey." She walked with her arm linked through Celeste's, half-pulling her away from her father. Sarah was not a hateful person, but there was no other word for what she felt lately. She hated that this was what Galatea had to come home to, she hated that Celeste had to watch her father pull further and further away from his family, and she especially hated that she could potentially lose the one person who had always been there for her. On her way out, she came up alongside Tarr and she gave him a soft nudge with her free elbow.

"You shouldn't have let her stay, my love." But her voice had no anger in it, only sadness. Celeste couldn't hear her soft tone over the loud music and people shouting. She glanced back to Doc, who was laughing raucously and again raking in his winnings. His lap companion was equally pleased, and she took Doc's glass from his hand, allowing herself a healthy portion. Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head, eventually meeting Tarr's gaze.

"I'm taking Celeste home." She would let Tarr decide whether he would follow or not. Sarah would probably head back later anyway after most people had gone home and she could better reason with her fool of a brother. "That woman has got to go," she added on under her breath before she left. She tugged at Celeste to get her walking again, but playfully squeezed the arm that her own was wrapped around.

"This is not a good place for you, honey, you are attracting far too much attention." But she laughed, knowing this was not of the dangerous kind. Sarah's motherly, keen eyes had spied a dashing young man leaning haphazardly up against the bar. He wore a fine suit, and couldn't have been more than twenty. He was most likely a recent graduate from some prestigious law school, out to make a name for himself in a new city. She had never seen him before. His light brown hair seemed just the slightest bit unmanageable, giving him a playful mischievous look that must have been very appealing to the girls around him and he was probably accustomed to getting his way. For now though, he stood on the side watching, disappointed that she seemed to be leaving. He would make it a point to find her again.

[Kozmo]

Home.

The attractive woman leaned forward in her seat, eyes trained on the horizon. She wore a particularly fashionable travelling suit, from the bonnet to the matching lace gloves, and carried a purse made of the finest velvet. Her hair was lovingly curled, framing a lovely face, and the choker at her neck bore a rather large diamond. Clearly, this was the wife of a scholar, or a doctor. She was clearly dripping with wealth. The conductor paused, smiling at her expression.

"Won't be much longer now, ma'am."

"Oh. Well, thank you kindly, sir." She flashed him a smile that made him blush up to his hair roots. She was very, very good at that. He paused.

"Ma'am, I hate to pry... But what is someone like you doing going to Glendale? From what I've heard, theres naught there but gamblers and thieves."

"I like gamblers and thieves." She laughed lightly. "Of course, it helps that I am one myself. Galatea Sullivan, at your service." She dipped her head politely. "So you see, I can take care of myself."
____

Celeste wasn't happy to see the woman in her fathers' lap. She didn't recognize the basic female urge to state down another woman, but she did feel the rise of anger in her, and she spit back with all of hey mothers fire in her tone. "Least I have a home to go to." That said, she linked her arm through her aunts without hesitation. "I didn't want to stay anyway." Though she did sniff, her eyes were wounded as they looked at her father. His behavior hurt more than her mother, really. Tarquin came around the bar to collect them, kissing them both swiftly; Celeste on the cheek, and Sarah on the lips.

"Aye... m'sorry, lassie. T'wasn't thinkin', is all." He sighed. "'Sides, Chaser is tha one 'oo let 'er in." He deflected the blame onto his stepson quite well. He fell into step with them, glancing at his pocket watch. "Tha train shoulda been 'ere by now."

"It came through about ten minutes ago," a sultry voice purred as a shadow peeled off the wall. "I was beginning to think ya'll forgot about me." The woman laughed as she hugged them in turn, before frowning. "Why does my baby smell like smoke and whiskey?" A razor sharp green gaze. "Chaser. I'm going to kill him."

"Kill that woman too," her daughter grumbled.

"Woman?" She looked to Tarquin. "Tarr...sweet, darling Tarr... What is she talkin' about?"

"Uhm... Well..." The Irishman began.

"Let me guess. Doc has a new playmate?" She smirked. "Can't say I'm surprized."

"She touched his hair." Celeste looked heartbroken. Tea's smile faded as well.

"What..."suddenly, green eyes lit with fire. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch with my bare hands."

"Tea... Be reasonable. Help us take 'Lessie home."

"Let her come along," the redhead spat. "It's high time she learns that men don't give a rats ass about us lowly women."

"Someones going to get hurt," Tarquin muttered. "More than likely me."

But the spitfire didn't stop. She brushed by Chaser as if he were a moth. The bartenders grinned, calling out in a friendly tone. Unlike Doc, she was well liked by all. Her response was to grab a shot of whiskey from a patrons hand, downing it. It hit her system hard, but she was already stalking the blonde gambler. From here, she could see the young the one ring, and already there was no comparison. Tea was far prettier. The woman looked up, stared.

"You're in my seat." Tea smirked.

"Sorry, sugar. Can't claim this seat. It's already taken."

"Oh, I didn't realize Doc had taken up charity for some of the towns more useless souls. My mistake."

"What'd you say, bitch?"

"Hmm?" The redhead blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were still here."

"Old Bidorf."

"Perhaps. But unlike you, I can get a mans attention and keep it. And that is why you hate me." A smug smile. "Run along, little girl, before you get humiliated in front of all these neice folks."

The fist never hit Tea, but within a few seconds, the two women were on the floor, yanking at each others hair, clawing and biting. The girl was quick, but Tea was a hair faster- her hands seeking out a weapon. When her fingers encountered the base of a nearby spitoon, her smile turned feral. She dragged it closer, pivoting to bring it crashing down on her opponents head- only to hear a yelp from Chaser as he pulled her off the floor.

"Damnit, Tea, simmer down!" She kicked back, breaking free, only to backhand Holliday. Then, as suddenly as it had come, she calmed. She drew dignity on like a cloak over her now tattered dress. Her head tossed high, and she held out her arm for her daughter.

"Celeste? Come."

[Doc_Holliday]

She loved the feel of Tarr's lips on hers. The loving gesture was all too brief for Sarah though, and with blue eyes closed, she followed Tarr's lips in protest when he pulled away. They were on there way out, Tarr checking his pocket watch to make sure they didn't miss Tea's train, when the trio heard a familiar sultry voice. It startled Sarah, and she whirled around to face Galatea with wide eyes.

"Tea!" She exclaimed, feeling like she had to explain herself for not being there on time. And yet, not wanting to, because the explanation was none too pleasing. "We-we missed you. Could never forget you," she said with nervous laughter. She had trouble meeting the red-head's eyes, and Tea, being the intuitive one that she was, wasn't missing any signs from Sarah. She had always had trouble with lies and hiding things. She was relieved when her friend's arms wrapped themselves around her, genuinely overjoyed to have her back.

"I've missed you terribly," she said again, with much emotion. It didn't take long for Galatea to get right to business, noticing that Celeste should not have been in the saloon, and knowing exactly who to blame for her being there. Sarah was as equally lost for words as Tarquin was, not even bothering to try and fumble for something to say. She only sighed, shaking her head in a characteristic display of disappointment. Her fingers snaked their way in between Tarr's, and squeezed hard.

"Now, Tea," Sarah attempted to interject when she spoke of men's opinions of women. Doc wasn't that way, but she could very easily understand Galatea's frustration with the way he was behaving. He seemed to be playing the part of an arrogant player all too well. This was what she had meant about him not pushing Tea away. In truth, her brother deserved whatever Galatea saw fit to dish out to him tonight, and she fell silent. She let Tarr's hand slide from hers as he took off after Galatea, ready to mediate whatever may happen in the crowded saloon. Sarah felt utterly conflicted, and followed Tarr helplessly, torn between letting Celeste follow like she obviously wanted to, or forcing her out of the saloon. With all of her indecisiveness, she was too late, and Celeste had already followed her mother to find Doc.

It was impossible to tell whether Doc's eyes shone with fever or with drunkenness, but either way, shining blue eyes looked up to meet the hard stare of Galatea Sullivan.

"Tea," he said softly, an amused smile shadowing his face. "How nice of you to join us." What happened next he did not expect, and he backed away quickly as the woman on his lap flung herself at Galatea. It was not often the saloon saw two women behave in such a way, and the spectacle drew quite a bit of attention from the people around them. There was an uproar of laughter, and one man nearby called out that he had ten dollars on the red-head. Doc stepped back again to take in the scene and watched as Chaser tried to break up the fight between the two women, earning himself a knock in the head courtesy of Galatea.

It ended as quick as it had all started, leaving the bar woman disheveled on the floor in front of her, mortified. Galatea had whirled around and backhanded Doc hard across the face, and he had been drunk enough not to expect or move quickly enough to avoid it. She made contact, a ring on her finger that he himself had provided cutting across his cheek. The sting of it followed shortly. The men around Holliday didn't dare laugh, and were shocked Galatea had even attempted such an action, let alone accomplished it. Surely there would be some retaliation on his end? But instead, he watched her storm off, daughter in tow. Galatea's victim of revenge tried to gather herself as best as she could, pulling her torn dress back over her shoulders.

"Hey, what'd I ever to do you, huh?" She was nearly in tears, now. After running her mouth she hadn't been able to back it up. Doc Holliday made a move to put his hat in it's rightful place on his head and gathered up all of his winnings. He held a hand out for her, pulling her up from the floor and began to walk away.

"Doc," she howled, hurt and embarrassed.

Doc slipped her a small handful of bills from his winnings, tipping his hat lightly. "For your time, darlin'." He walked away then, brushing past Sarah whose mouth was open from what she had just seen. Volatile as their relationship may have been at times, she had never seen Galatea be so physical in her anger towards Doc. Doc would never raise a hand to her or any woman though, instead closing himself off and becoming more distant and cold to those that cared about him. Tea, too, was probably fed up with his selfish and self-destructive behavior. If this didn't bring about some change in her brother, she didn't know what would.

She gathered her wits enough to chase after her brother, who now bled not only from his mouth but from his cheek. He had not so much as winced, which Sarah took to mean that he knew he deserved it. Maybe there was some hope after all.

"John," she called out after him. "Tarr, Chaser," she called out behind her to signal the two remaining men in their group that she was leaving. She finally caught up with the gambler directly outside of the saloon doors. Galatea and Celeste were nowhere in sight. "John," she said again, with a rare quality to her voice. It was a mixed sound of disappointment and worry, and her eyes were narrow with concentration. "Well, here," she finally said, handing him a handkerchief. "Just...here." She waved it at him.

He took it, dabbing at his cheek. He didn't say a word, only met his sister's eyes briefly before moving off in the direction of their home.

"Whoa, whoa, where are you going?" He looked ready to topple over.

"I need to find her," he said as if it should have been the most obvious answer in the world.

"After that?" So it was true, all men were dense. She eyed him curiously, and put a hand on his chest when he lurched forward, barely able to keep upright. "And not like this, you aren't. Do you realize what you just did to her in there? And Celeste? Honestly, I don't understand you anymore."

He didn't respond but he made no further moves to follow after her.

"No," she said again with finality. "No, we are going home and you are going to rest. You let her come to you, or at least give her time" 'If she ever even wants to come,' she wanted to add, but didn't. Galatea was the gunman's weakness, and no matter what happened between the two of them, he usually wanted her with him. Galatea's greatest punishment to him could be to ignore him.

"Perhaps you're right," he finally said, again wiping the blood from his stinging cheek.

He put his arm around Sarah's slender shoulders when she moved around beside him, and they went home. Getting up the stairs was an effort, but the soft light coming from under the door to Galatea's room told Sarah that she had at least made it home. Sarah helped him so far as to a room down the hall, stumbling with him until he was at least lying on the bed. His exhaustion hit him hard and his eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep. His breathing came in short, painful heaves and he coughed, but all she could do for him was take off his hat and pull off his boots. Perhaps when Tarr made it back, she could get him to at least ease his breathing. She wasn't sure if Galatea would want to be bothered or not, so she just went to her and Tarr's bedroom, leaving the door open as an invitation in case she or Celeste may want to speak to her. She looked out of the window, which looked down out onto the busy Main street below and waited anxiously for Tarr to come back home. He couldn't be far behind them.

[Kozmo]

"Mama?" Celeste tried again to make her mother slow down, but after what she had just witnessed, she was afraid to slow down, lest her mother be mad at her too. Galatea blinked, then slowed her furious strides, eyes sympathetically on her child.

"Oh, Celeste. I'm sorry, honey." She knew her daughter idolized her father, and seeing that must have been hard enough without her mother breaking up the saloon. She had heard the bets being placed on her, and shame burned in her gut. Doc hadn't looked good. She hadn't meant to whirl on him like that. He did indeed deserve anger, but not like that. She had hurt herself by hurting him.

"Are you gonna leave daddy?" Her daughter suddenly asked. There were tears in the pretty blue eyes, and she felt the urge to snatch her daughter close and never let her go.

"Of course not!" She hugged the girl tight. "Your daddy will come home, swat me one for taking things too far, and it will be forgotten." She unlocked the door to their home. "Now, off to bed with you."

"Awww, mama..."

"Go on, girl. Get." She swatted the girl lightly on the bottom. The girl raced up the stairs, while Tea followed at a more sedate pace. She hurt everywhere- the train hadn't been too comfortable, and the fight had rounded everything out to a nice level of exhaustion. She slid into her... their... room, sighing as she closed the door. "Not as young as you once were, Gallie." She glanced in the mirror, shaking her head. She would have some coloful bruises come morning, and one hell of a black eye. Her dress was ruined beyond recognition, and her bonnet was missing. She looked as bad as she felt.

---

Tarquin was not amused. Chaser had the concussion from hell, courtesy of his sister. The man winced as the cat purred near his ear. "Stop buzzin'." To which the cat gave an indignant sniff and swish of an orange tail. "She still has one hell of a swing. I should have known better." The cat meowed agreement. "Oh, thanks for that."

The job of a healer was never done.

---

She heard them come in while she was bathing. The stumble up the stairs, the fumbling for the door, and sighed. She knew his breathing would be labored, and he would be in pain. She could fix it. But not now. She was the last thing he would want now. Still... she began to sing, knowing her soft voice would carry. "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you..." it was as close to an apology as he would get tonight.

She also heard Tarr stumble in, before hightaiking it down the hall.

"Ach, doc. Are ye ready tae finally let me 'elp ye? It's killin' that wee lassie tae see ye in so much pain."

[Doc_Holliday]

Sarah spied around the corner when she heard Tarr come up the stairs and head straight to the room where she'd left her brother. She debated following him but decided that her presence would not have the desired effect. Who Doc needed right now was in the room next door, and probably wanted little to do with the man. She gave a very impatient huff.

"These stubborn fools." She said it lovingly, of course. Both of them unwilling to bend and it was hurting them severely. Killing Doc, even. Finally, she could take it no longer, and she walked down the hall, entering the room Doc and Tarr were in as if she had every right to be there. Doc was her brother, after all, and she had dragged him home, and Tarr was the love of her life. She wanted to be with both of them right now.

She gave Tarr a peck on the cheek, and heard him ask Doc as passively as possible whether or not he would finally accept some help. She could tell by his reaction, or lack thereof, that his mind was rather firmly set on 'no'.

"Give me a minute, love?" She didn't make him leave the room, Doc probably wouldn't notice he was there. Doc's face was turned the other way, eyes fixed on the wall where Galatea's sweet voice reached him. Even hearing her seemed to calm him. She couldn't understand why he was acting the way he was. He was the main tie that kept their family together, and it seemed like he cared least of all about keeping it that way.

"Really, you are overreacting," he said matter-of-factly. The strength in his voice surprised her and his senses seemed to be coming back to him now. "Just leave me be."

"Look, he won't do much tonight, just let him help you breathe," she pressed on. He was a gambler, and she would speak his language. "If you can stand up right now, I'll believe you that you're alright, and we will leave you alone and not pester you again." He met her eyes harshly, and she could practically see a nasty response forming on his lips, but it was lost in a fit of coughing as soon as he tried to speak.

"Oh, God," he groaned as his head fell against the bed again. It hurt so bad. He took a deep, shuddering inhale, and composed himself, bringing a slender hand up to wipe his mouth and side of his face. "Where is she? Is she here?" He tried to sit up but Sarah pushed him down.

"She's here, she's fine." She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow curiously. He had just heard her singing. Did he think he had imagined it? "You know you won't see her again if you're dead, right?" No response, and she grew more solemn, lowering her voice to something barely above a whisper. "I used to think you were safe from that, dyin', you know? But I see it in your eyes. It's chasin' you, and you can't outrun it anymore."

He couldn't say an unkind word of Tarquin, and his icy blue eyes glanced over at him and he met his gaze for a few seconds. He was indeed very much aware that he was still present. He knew how much Sarah cared for him, so he accepted the man as much as anyone would. Sarah had been facilitating and building a relationship between the two men for years. When Doc finally looked away again, he closed his eyes and sighed. There, that was all the go ahead they needed. She tried not to show her happiness too much. Maybe, just maybe she could convince Galatea to come and be with him. He was always more compliant for her, and he needed the woman he loved, now, not his sister.

She stood up gently with a hand on Doc's shoulder as he began to cough again, and waited for the episode to pass so that she could tell him she would try and get Tea. It wasn't passing though. Each second that it continued let her face grow more worried, and she pressed down on his shoulder several times to try and shake him out of it. Usually he recovered after a short, painful minute, but his fit only grew in intensity. He had let his guard down, and this was the result. No wonder he never relaxed. Each inhale drew in less air until nothing came anymore. He was choking on the blood from his lungs, maybe. She didn't know, but something was terribly wrong. His eyes flickered shut and he seemed to stop fighting it completely, after having just accepted Tarr's offer.

"John, no!" She shouted, incredulous that it had gone this far. He had just been fine! She tried to pull him to a seated position to clear the blood from his chest but he was so limp that she couldn't. Frantic, she whirled around and grasped for Tarr, convinced that she had just lost him. "Please!" She backed up in horror until her back hit the hall on the far side of the room, and she slid down it until she nearly sat on the floor. All she could do now was watch, helpless, too stunned even for tears to come.

[Kozmo]

((Tea made me cry. Seriously. And sorry, Walker had to come out.))

Tarr blinked as Sarah came to him, before turning his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. She always smelled like spring to him, and it soothed him. Comfort. For a moment, it was heaven. He hearts the door open again, and scent told him it was Chaser. He ignored it, though. Chaser lived here, after alk. The door to Tea's room creaked open, and the irishman grinned. Tea was curious, though she would sooner cut out her own tongue than admit it. She was probably just waiting for Doc to call her name before racing into the room.

"Ach, allainia." He slipped into Gaelic, briefly. "You speak to him. Make him understand." He backed off quietly, giving them space. Chaser glanced in, and he caught the flaring green glow that signaled NightWalker was here. He'd never seen it happen before, though Sarah had told him of it. This was Galatea's brother, then?

"You are Tarquin, yes?" The voice was in his head, and amused. It was deeper than Chaser's, but more melodic, and warmth radiated from it. It was a calming voice. "I assume you know who I am?"

"NightWalker." He whispered it. "Tea's brother."

"Indeed." A whisper. "You know I died."

"Silver bullet, shot by a coward." His eyes closed.

"Even your skills could not save me, Tarquin. Would you have me suffer?" The healer shook his head sadly. "Then do not pity me, healer. I am here as a guide only, this time."

"A guide?" He looked bereft, until he heard Sarah cry out, and a rustle of cloth as Tea rushed into the room. She looked to her brother.

"Walker?" Confusion was written over her face. "What are you...?" Sarah's cries dawned on her, suddenly. "No... Nononono.... Please, god, no. Not him. Not now." Her eyes filled. "Tarr, fix it. You have to!"

"Gallie..." The voice in her head was soft. "Hush, sis. If the Creator wills it, so it shall be."

"That's bull, Walker, and you know it. You came back." She snarled it.

"Tell me, Tea, what would you have me do? Healing him will not give him the will to live. Besides, I thought you were done with him."

"I always come." She sniffed as a siamese leapt onto the too still chest, ears back in distress. "I could never be rid of him."

"Interesting, sister. Tell me, if I told you his death would save to world from the inevitable plunge into the abyss, what would you do? That it would save me, had he died?"

"But..."

"Is it him, Gallie, or the world?" Tarquin mewed suddenly, as he eased the pressure on the gunman's chest, allowing him to breathe. Still, nothing.

"Him. It's always been him." She looked to Walker. "Can you save him?"

"That is out of my hands, Gallie." The eyes were sad. "Only you can decide his fate." She looked at him blankly. "Give him a reason to fight." Slowly, it dawned on her, and she nodded.

"A reason." She stole across the room quietly. Tarr looked up sadly, yowling mournfully. He couldn't wake the gunman either. She stroked his cheek, before leaning close. "You listen to me, John Holliday. You will fight this. Because, so help me, if you don't I will storm Hell itself to bring you back to me. Fight. Fight it for me. Fight it for Celeste. Fight. Don't you dare die on me now."

[Doc_Holliday]

One hand was on each side of her face, but she was standing now. Galatea had rushed in, curiosity finally getting the better of her, but Sarah didn't notice Walker's presence. She had no one to cling to, and it was driving her mad. She sobbed without tears, a strange sound as if the air was being choked from her body. Her hands went back and forth from her face to her hair, and then to cover her mouth. She paced frantically, all the while keeping her gaze trained on Galatea and Tarr.

Tarr was with Tea, and Tea was naturally beside Doc. Sarah was alone, panicking off to the side and feeling as if she were about to die herself. She stood on her tip toes to see over everyone in an attempt to determine whether or not he was still breathing. She had to wait a few seconds and concentrate very hard, but there was the slightest rise and fall of his chest now. Tarr had given him the ability to breathe again, but that was all he could do for now. She took to wringing her hands in front of her. With blue eyes closed she lifted her face to the heavens in a desperate plea to spare her family.

"Please, no," she whispered to herself, feeling a surge of calmness come over her. "John Henry, this isn't right." Her eyes reopened to finally reveal tears, sheer terror subsiding and great sorrow slowly coming to take its place. She stayed hovering where she was, eyes glued to Galatea and willing her every ounce of power to reach Doc now.

Doc Holliday, the cause of all of this fuss, currently felt nothing. It didn't hurt to breathe, his chest didn't ache, and his heart didn't feel the suspected loss of Galatea. Everything was quiet, even though he could faintly hear shouting, as if it was off in the distance, and finally, felt a soft touch against his cheek. He could feel her presence beside him. It was tender but determined. She was close, now, and all of a sudden he could take in her scent. She was here, with him. Perhaps she still cared. His blue eyes opened to two tiny slits and searched until they found her face.

"You're here," he said softly, and paused before continuing. "I thought I'd lost you."

Sarah's jaw dropped in her corner. He thought he had lost her? He was a selfish fool! In her disbelief at the first word's out of his mouth she had nearly overlooked the fact that there had been words at all, and that he was alive and speaking.

"Oh, thank God," she said breathlessly, when it dawned on her. "Thank you, God," she said, a smile lighting up her eyes that shimmered with tears. But her relief was temporary, because before she knew what was happening, Doc had shot upright from the bed with a hiss of pain and as if hit by an adrenaline rush, nearly taking Galatea out with him. He was on his feet and short of breath, clutching at his chest with one hand while he coughed once or twice, and steadying himself against the wall with the other. But he was standing.

"Goddammit," he cursed viciously. Life had come back to hit him hard and he seemed to be feeling it all very intensely. Sarah was so utterly bewildered by the display that she didn't know what to do. Forcing him back into bed didn't seem possible at the moment. She looked to Tarr, curious if he had done anything to cause this and looking for direction. Everyone stared at Doc for what seemed like an eternity before he realized that everyone was there. He looked around as if confused about the entire thing and why he wasn't in his regular room, but he said nothing. He took his hand away from the wall, confident in his ability to stand without it and met Galatea's gaze alone. She stood not far from him, and for a moment it wasn't clear whether he was angry or not.

He wasn't, and he would probably earn another slap for it, and he didn't know if it was an invited gesture or not, but he strode over to her anyway and placed one hand on her cheek.

"Galatea," he murmured apologetically, a rare quality to be heard in his voice. It was also a rare display of affection from the gunman, especially since nearly his entire family was present, but he seemed conscious of how close he had been to losing her and wasn't going to waste any more time. He moved her closer slowly, bringing his lips to hers softly, but wrapping one arm around her tightly while one hand ran up along her back to bury itself in her hair. He held her there only long enough to get his apology across, and then pulled away, wiping a trail of tears from her cheek with his thumb. Something told him that she had come back to him, but he realized, then, that perhaps it had been imagined, and he released her slowly, unsure of her next move and nearly wincing as he recalled the blow to his face was her doing. Oh, yeah. He had pissed her off.

[Kozmo]

Walker couldn't help himself. Sarah looked miserable, and he crept closer before opening his arms. 'Sachi? C'mere.' He waited for her to come to him before wrapping her into a brotherly hug, kissing her forehead gently. 'It'll be alright, I promise. I'm not always a harbinger of doom when I show up.' He sighed. Tarquin gave them a curious look, but stayed close to the gambler and the madam, for now. Still, he fretted for his woman, and was grateful to NightWalker for comforting her. Tea was openly weeping, though any tears were silent, and she stood like a sentinel at Doc's side. Under his paws, he felt the gambler stir, and he mewed softly before kneading his paws against the chest. Blue eyes skirted open, fixing on Galatea.

"You're here."

"Aren't I always?" She breathed it, tears flowing down her cheeks. She shook her head as he spoke again, laughing through a haze of tears. "You stupid ass, I love you. You won't lose me."

Tarr leapt down, gracefully, before trotting over to Walker and Sarah. He purred, leaping up to rub his face against Sarah's, drying her tears with his silky fur. He began to purr hypnotically, soothingly, to calm his mate, as Doc stood suddenly. Tea barely managed to shift out of the way, our she too would have been off balance and out of breath. She glanced at Walker, who grinned and winked.

'Bastard.'

'Yup, but you love me anyway, sis.' The masculine chuckle was better suited to a bedchamber, but it was real, and warm. ' Besides, it's lonely in the afterlife. I needed some fun.'

'Walker...' But she found herself grinning anyway. That grin faded when Doc began to prowl closer. She wasn't sure if he was angry, or not, until he called her name quietly. She was surprised at the tone, but more suprised that he wrapped her up in his arms, kissing her so gently, and staying there long enough to warm her. She relaxed into his hold, eyes fluttering shut, and sighed contentedly. All too soon, he drew back, forcing her to follow.

"Oh, you stubborn fool... Get back over here. I haven't finished apologizing to you yet." Her hand rose to cover the angry scratch on his cheek. "Stupid man... Don't you know that I care, yet?" She stepped into his space, suddenly, twining her arms around his neck and burying her face into the hollow between his jaw and shoulder, inhaling his gunpowder and tobacco scent like a lifeline.. "Oh, god, I thought I lost you." Her voice was fearful now, as if she doubted that he was really here. "I'm so sorry." She murmured against his skin, voice muffled. "I wasn't thinkin', and that's the truth of it. I shouldn't have hit ya." She pressed a kiss to his pulse point, lovingly. "Can ya forgive me?"

Her anger at him, anyway, was spent.

[Doc_Holliday]

She was happy to feel his embrace, recognizing it as Walker's. She smiled and met his gaze with warm eyes.

"It's wonderful to see you again, Walker." She was relieved that his purpose here was not a sinister one, as she had feared. "I only wish it were under happier circumstances." But everything seemed alright, now. Doc held Galatea in his arms, and Tarr had made his way over to Sarah. The feeling of his fur against her face soothed her, as he had obviously intended. She held him against her chest, feeling his purrs throughout her whole body and finally giving a contended sigh.

Doc grunted in appreciation at the feeling of her face against his shoulder, and held one arm around her shoulders to steady her and reassure her that he was here. He didn't feel that words were needed, a typical sentiment on his part for many occasions. Her hand covered his face where her ring and caught him and he chuckled.

"I deserve far worse, darlin'." Little had changed, it seemed, in his feelings of his own self-worth, but he winked at her playfully. All was forgiven, and he kissed her again to accept her apology. "You look tired," he assessed, knowing and accepting the irony of his statement. He was pretty near exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to lie down in his own bed, with his own woman. "Let's go to bed, shall we?"

He steered her towards the door then, arm still around his shoulders. With his free hand he gathered up his belongings to take them back to their rightful room. He gave a look that may have been an apology to Sarah as he passed her, for whatever had made her look so distraught.

"Go, rest, sister." She couldn't help herself and she embraced his free side with one arm, holding Tarr close to her with the other. He kissed her on the cheek lightly and flashed her one of his charming smiles. As long as the focus was never on him and his health, he was pleased. It amazed her with what skill he could deflect attention away from himself after having done what looked like come back from the dead. He eyed Chaser curiously next to Sarah, recognizing the difference in him. "Walker..." he said in acknowledgement. He had a feeling they would be seeing more of him.

He left the group then, still confused but not giving off any outward sign of it. Perhaps Tea could fill him in. Really though, all he wanted to do right now was lie down and try and sleep. With Galatea back, he would rest easier, but he still hurt and he never slept well anyway. At least she was there though, and he could take comfort with that fact. He breathed in her scent as they walked back to their room. He only let her go when it was necessary for him to use both hands to take off his gun belt, and felt better when his head was finally against the pillow. He hadn't bothered to finish undressing, it could wait until morning.

[Kozmo]

((There. Some Sarah Tarr love for ya!))

Walker sighed as his adopted sister snuggled close, never afraid of him. He hadn't meant to get close to anyone, merely kick his sister back into her mans arms. He hated knowing the fate of the young man who's consciousness he shared, and he knew it would hurt more than just Chaser. It would hurt Tea, who had grown to love him. Tarr, who watched him grow up. Sarah, who had raised him. Like a pebble falling into still water, he would affect this small group. He hated it, though. Still, he loved his family, and he showed a rare smile to Sarah.

'Missed you, sister.' He noisily kissed her cheek, causing the feline in her arms to give him a look of disapproval. 'What?' To which the cat silently ignored, kneading his paws against the gown of his mate. He chuckled as Tea received another kiss, before speaking in a smoky whisper. "It is good to see her back where she belongs, no?" Tarquin glanced up, curiously. Even the speaking voice had changed. He brushed a hand over the silky head of the feline, and Tarr butted his head into the scratch.

"You didn't deserve that, sugar, but I'll let it go for now," the redhead murmured before being drawn into another kiss. This time she kissed him back, no regrets between them, and when he drew away she leaned her head on his shoulder, barely able to stifle a yawn. She was exhausted. "Bed?" She looked at Walker, curiously. "I can't..."

"Go on, Gallie. I'll be here come morning." Walker leaned in to kiss her, briefly. "Rest. Hes not gong anywhere tonight."

"Walker..." She was torn between her brother and her lover, but both knew who would ultimately win out. She bit her lip.

"Go on, now. Doc, make sure she rests. I'm trusting you with that which I love the most." His whisper was so gentle, though. Teasing though it may have been, there was truth in it, too.

"But..." Tea protested.

"Get, girlfriend." He grinned. "See you tomorrow." He nudged Sarah, too. "You too, sweetie. Go to bed, and make sure Tarquin rests." He butted his forehead to hers. "I'll still be here come morning, little one. You've had a shock today. Get some sleep, and we'll talk in the morning."
---

Tea didn't want to let go of him. He had barely released her, except to unfasten his gunbelt, but she wanted to cling. He had scared her, tonight. Even when he laid down, she was touching him. Normally, she slept with her head on his chest, but she was terrified he wouldn't wake if she did that, so she stretched out beside him with one hand over his heart, letting it steady her, before she sighed. "Get some sleep, sugar."

She was sure she wouldn't sleep a wink that night, but she managed a fitful doze, drifting between wakefulness and dreams.

---

Tarquin waited until they had some privacy before sneaking off to change. He hated the feeling of binges popping, but it made him more eager to get back to his Sarah. He moved into their room, before wrapping her up in his arms, securing the woman in his embrace. He held her there for a moment, just enjoying her warmth and scent, before he spoke, quietly.

"So... That was NightWalker?" It was gentle. "I didnae expect him tae be so... Different than our Chaser." A sigh. "Was he always like that? In everyone's head?" Blue eyes met Sarah's quietly. "He wasnae tae discreet, iff'n yae catch me meanin'." He dipped his head then, kissing her fully, and only releasing her when breathing became an issue. "Dae ye know how much I love ye?" He rested his brow to hers. He lightly lifted her into his arms, before laying her on their bed. He lay beside her, propping himself on his elbow, looking over his mate.

"There are times, Sarah, that I swear ye're Brigid in human form." He caressed her cheek. "I love ye, me darlin' lass, more'n words can say."

[Doc_Holliday]

Tarr had run off somewhere quickly, and she hoped that when she saw him again she would be able to wrap her arms around him properly. She still stood pressed against Walker, a man whom she also admired and loved as a brother. She didn't want to pull away, afraid he would disappear, but when his reassuring voice mentioned seeing Galatea in the morning, she perked up. She could see Galatea was torn, not knowing if she should stay with Doc or Walker, but Doc eventually won. When Tea had left, Walker turned to Sarah, urging her to rest and make sure Tarquin got some sleep as well.

"Oh, I will," she said with a smile. She reluctantly began to move away from him, but squeezed his arm and met his gaze evenly before she left completely. "You make sure you're still here in the morning." She kissed him on the cheek and then touched his face, still recognizing Chaser. "Goodnight," she said, though to which man she meant it for was left open. She made her way back to their room, trying hard to relax. She was still quite shaken. Perhaps it would help if she dressed for bed. She pulled off her many layers, standing behind an elaborate dressing screen and throwing her dress over the top of it until morning. Clad in a soft, silky night gown and robe for warmth, she took to absentmindedly brushing her golden hair. Before she knew it though, Tarr had come up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She gave a sigh and leaned into him.

"Yes, that was our Walker," she answered him with a gentle nod of her head. "I miss him dearly." She laughed when he asked about him being in their heads, a genuine laugh that felt good after being so frightened. "I don't recall him being much different when he was still with us."

She was turned around then, melting into Tarr's kiss and against his body. Even though she needed to breathe, she didn't want him to pull away. His voice seemed to take all of her worries away and when she was with him she knew that everything would be alright. "Tarquin," she breathed, smiling brightly in response to his question. She had no doubt that he loved her. He made her feel completely whole and at peace. It was something she had never experienced before him, and now that she had it, she could never let it go. She was utterly happy when she was with him, and she tried everyday to show that to him. He picked her up gently, bringing her to lay down on the bed beside him. With his head propped up on his elbow, she lay on her side looking up at him, her hands under her head as a pillow.

"I love you, darlin'" she whispered into his chest, the pet-name apparently a family favorite. She had the same aristocratic drawl as her brother, but hers was soft and gentle, and the epitome of what may be attributed as belonging to what one would call a southern belle. "I love you more than you probably know." A pale, delicate hand fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, a coy smile playing across her features. She opened the first few and let her fingers trail down where his chest was bare, letting her palm rest there then while she planted several tender kisses on him.

"You need to rest, love," she said in between, and then finally moving up to his mouth and giving him a rather affectionate kiss on the lips. She gave a dazzling smile this time, draping one arm across his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. She was finally feeling optimistic after too long of a time of worry and heartache.

-

He could tell by the way she gripped him and wouldn't leave his side that she was still afraid of losing him. Mostly, he was selfish in his illness, not feeling that his health was any one's concern but his. He was the one that suffered, and he was the one that would ultimately pay the price for his reckless behavior. But he was beginning to see how much it affected everyone, and it nearly made him cringe.

He hated responsibility. He accepted it fully for Galatea, Sarah, and Celeste, of course, but resented the fact that he had to endure this misery for the sake of others. As tired as he was, he would probably get little rest tonight, but he was happy to stay here with Galatea and feel her warmth against him. He stole glances at her as she dozed, sometimes playing with her hair to keep his mind in the present. If there was one person that made it worth sticking around though, it was Galatea. And so, he would. With this motivation in mind he tried to at least close his eyes and rest for a little while. Galatea would surely be up bright and early to be with Walker anyway.

[Galatea]

((I'm trying, I promise. I don't feel too well, though.))

[Galatea]

((Really bad, lovie. Sorry.))

Tarr laughed outright when she did, her silvery chuckle infectious. "Soo... Any other s'prises I should know aboot?" He laughed. But this was his woman, and as such he relaxed against her. When she toyed with his shirt, he let her, nipping at her fingers. Naughty, naughty little fingers. "Minx." He followed up by kissing each finger pad, eyes half slitted.

"Ach, ye're makin it hard tae sleep, lassie." But the devilish twinkle in his blue eyes told her wasn't really mad. "Sleep, allainia. Yer Walker will nae tarry tae long, iff'n ye catch me drift." A nuzzle, before he tucked her against his chest more securely. He drifted off contentedly.
---

She woke first.

Doc was by her side, and her palm over his chest told her his heart was beating steadily, and the rise and fall of his chest proved he drew breath. For a long moment, she simply lay beside him, drinking in his scent, before raising herself onto one arm to study his face. He was still the most handsome creature she'd seen, and still hers. She silently closed her eyes, thanking the powers that be for him, before carefully threading her fingers through his hair. He didn't seem to object to her touch, so she leaned down to bring his lips to hers.