The waiting was not acceptable. He was not pleased. He sat in his shop caressing his opponent’s gun and thinking. He spoke aloud in a calm voice, "Pretty Boy, you’re disappointing me. I don’t appreciate being disappointed. You sure this is something you wish to do to me?" He then began spinning the barrel of the gun over and over, allowing a dry fire with each conclusion of a spin. He aimed the gun at the dog resting at his feet and pulled the trigger. The dog, used to his master’s game, never raised his head.

The activity he engaged in was one in which he had gained some enjoyment in the past, but now it was becoming dull – very dull. He needed new memories, new excitement. His anger was rising, as he could no longer enjoy thinking of the events with the kid. It was no longer pleasurable. The scenario never altered, as he replayed the dance. He wanted the tempo to change, the steps to quicken, and the music to crescendo. He needed excitement. "DAMN!" He screamed at his lack of control. "You better know what you’re doing, Pretty Boy! You best not try my patience! You best make it worth my wait!"

"Papa? Can I come in?" A small voice violated his sanctuary.

"Haven’t I told you a thousand times, NEVER interrupt me! Haven’t I?"

The small child began to cry as he heard the yelling. "But Papa, Mama wanted me to tell you..."

"Stop that sniveling right now and get out! You don’t cry, you hear me? You never cry! Your mother made you weak! She’s ruined you! You’ll be good for nothing! Get out of my sight!"

The door quickly closed, and he was alone once more. " Damn that brat! Just like his mother, weak!" He remained in thought, telling himself he was worthy of such a better child, one who would make him proud, one who would be as strong as him. He needed a protégé, not a whiny, sniveling brat. Someone who would admire him, and he could teach. He needed a son with the traits he most admired: a cunning and clever resolve, the ability to gain control and exert power, and the ability to never feel. Never. He would settle for nothing less.

Years before, the woman had been chosen for convenience, nothing more. He had not thought it through at the time. He admitted he should have chosen one with better breeding potential. He had not counted on the child, never wanted it. Still didn’t. She had tricked him, he knew it, and now he had to tolerate a young one just like her. He held her accountable. After all it was really her fault, he reasoned. She knew he needed to be free for his work, and yet she clung and groveled and whined. Both were so very unworthy of him. He made sure they knew it, made sure they were grateful he tolerated them. He found them to be in his way, and was beginning to entertain the idea of replacing them. They were not quite right for him. The wife he did not need, he could easily do without. The saloon whores were much better, and could serve him adequately.

The son though, did he need the son? Not this son, but another. Yes, he deserved a different son. He deserved better. He would have better. Better. What was better? Who was better? Who was better than what he had? He knew there was no one who held a candle to him, but who was close? Who could be molded? Pretty Boy? Could you be what I am looking for? Are you worthy of my wisdom? Do you have what it takes, Pretty Boy? Do you? DO YOU? He had to know the answer. Had to know if he had chosen wisely. Was his instinct correct? He would test it and find out. The kid would be his or die. He would tolerate nothing less.

It was time for class to begin. He would wait no more.
 

The drama of the previous night, as well as the day’s emotional deluge, weighed heavy on each Cartwright, as night fell and gave hope of a time for quiet and peace. Upon returning from the barn, Joe walked quickly across the great room headed for the stairs. Ben saw his youngest looking so young and distraught and called after him. "Joseph, are you okay?"

Joe stopped and turned to his father. "Uh, yeah, Pa. I’m not feelin’ real good, but its nothin’ to worry ‘bout. It’ll go away. I’m sorry ‘bout messin’ up dinner."

"You didn’t mess up anything. Listen, you go on upstairs and lie down. You still look a little green. You need anything? Need to talk?"

"Naugh Pa. I’ll be just fine, promise. G’night." Joe dropped his head down and walked up the stairs.

Entering his room, Joe lay on the bed, reviewing the day once more, trying to understand how it was his mind could so quickly go to a place he hated; a place where he felt things so much more intensely. His mind was so quickly to go to where there was no control, nothing but bad. Why did it do this? How could he stop it? He thought over how it would come upon him. Did he notice it happening? Did he? What were the clues? Maybe, if he figured out how it happened, he could make it stop. He knew it had something to do with being reminded of the Stranger, reminded of the cellar, or reminded of his pain. But it threw him as to how many reminders there were. He recalled the things that had triggered it. How many more reminders were going to come? "Geez! It could be ‘bout anything!" Joe said to no one. "Damn it! I hate this."

A knock on the door interrupted his questioning. "Yeah, come in."

His father stood in the doorway, a glass in his hand. "Hey, I was headed up for the night and thought you could use this."

"Oh, uh, thanks. What is it?"

"Something to help with the hair of the dog that bit you." Ben tried to keep it light with Joe, wanting his son to know he was in no trouble.

Joe grinned sheepishly. "I think I could use it. Thanks Pa."

"You’re welcome." Ben handed the glass to Joe and watched him drink. As he watched Joe, he could not resist the urge and reached out and messed Joe’s hair. Joe looked at his father knowing it was from this man that he received a sense of peace he found with no other person. It felt good to have him in the room. It made it stop for a few minutes.

Ben wanted to stay and sit with his child, somehow feeling the need to have a stronger connection with Joe, but resisted the urge. "Well son, you relax and feel better. I’m down the hall if you need anything."

"I’ll be fine. Thanks again."

Ben left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. As Joe watched him go he wanted to call out, to ask his father to stay with him, but he quickly chastised himself for being weak and allowed his father to leave. He soon returned to pondering his own mind as his thoughts turned to how he could gain control over the bad in him.

As he sat, he decided to try something. He would make himself go back there, but make himself remain mentally present. He did not want to do it, but knew he had to try and gain control. He reasoned it would be like when he had stood out in the dark – force himself through it, stare it down. He sat back, leaning against the headboard and made himself remember.

Joe was in the saloon, so far no flashes. Doyle was there, the gun against him - no flashes. He walked out the saloon door, and around the corner. His breathing was increasing; he felt his heart quicken. He panicked at the changes in his body and stopped. "I don’t want to see him. He’s around the corner, and he’s waiting. No… no stop it… he’s not really there. It’s in the past. Calm down… Just breathe…"

Joe focused once more. He went around the corner. He saw him… "Stay in control. Don’t go there." He told himself. The Stranger had the gun up to his head. He began to shake. "Don’t!" He corrected himself. "What was next?" He walked himself through the struggle to be free before the cellar. As he thought of being thrown down the stairs, it came - the flashes. Sounds and images were vivid, rushing feelings, emotions raw and exposed. He was there. It was no longer Joe in control, he was adrift in the tidal wave, helpless to do much but hold on and wait. Wait for rescue from his head.

And then it was gone. It stopped. As he mentally returned to his room, he found himself breathing heavy. The fear was immense. As he struggled to leave his emotions and return to his thoughts, he had a realization. It had stopped. Something had made it stop. What was it? What had ended it? There was talking in the hallway. Had that ended it? Talking, maybe? He asked what else? What else was a clue? He looked at his hands and saw they were firmly gripping the coat he still wore. Had that done it, touching something? Touching Adam’s coat? What else is there? What? Figure it out, he told himself. Think! His room, had that done anything? It was so familiar. He knew every inch of his room. Was it the safety he felt? Voices, touches and safety. Did these things stop it? Would they give him back control? People? Could that actually help manage it for him? Could just being with people and focusing on them be a key?

As he focused on his need for people around him, he knew it would be a while before Hoss would be in his room for the night. It was still rather early, and he felt suddenly very alone. He did not care for the solitude, as his realization took hold. He needed to do as he had done when he had first arrived back at the ranch. Adam was right. He should not be alone. Alone was bad. Alone made him bad. Alone made it all bad.

It was an urgency to reconnect that drove him out of his room once more. He moved to the hall, and without thought, to his father’s room. He walked through the door without knocking, his need to be in the room and with his father his only thought. "Uh, hey Pa. I saw your light was on."

Ben was surprised at Joe’s sudden entrance. It took him back to a memory of his son much younger. Joe’s walking into his father’s room at night without knocking had been a sure sign his son was frightened. It had been an unspoken between them then. He would come in "just to talk" and Ben would chat about the day with his son, until Joe was tired enough that he would fall to sleep on the bed. Ben would then move his sleeping child to his own room for the rest of the night. Joe had eventually outgrown the need to be with his father in the evening, or so Ben thought, but here it was once more, the need was back.

Ben went about cleaning out his pockets onto his dresser and watching, as his son moved over to the bed and plopped down. The scenario, so familiar to both as it played itself out. "Uh, Pa, I was thinkin’ its probably time we were moving the herd, huh?" As Joe asked, he began to play with the quilt on his father’s bed.

"Yeah, it’s about that time. You’re right. You got any thoughts on it?" Ben was so touched. Before him was his son, almost grown. In fact in some ways very grown, yet appearing so young. He had been right. His son was afraid.

"Oh, no. Just thinkin’ it was ‘bout time we did it. How was your meeting today?"

Ben went about preparing for bed, all the while talking to Joe about the things his son asked. He knew not to confront Joe on his fear, or his son would simply deny it and leave, walking away, having not received comfort, but embarrassment at having been shamed. No, Ben thought to himself, he was enjoying some time alone with his son, allowing his heart to return to the little boy he had raised. He admitted he loved seeing Joe had not fully left his boyhood behind, because the little boy was someone Ben treasured greatly and found himself at times missing.

The two shared the experience, a bond where there were no words; a father so amazed at the mere idea of his son, and a son, seeing his father as the one who fixed most everything; the one who gave him peace. As the fatigue of the day hit both of them and yawns became frequent, they parted. The son, so glad his father was there, and the father so glad his son needed him. Joe eventually returned to his room, not carried as he had been as a child, but feeling his father’s words, and his father’s love, carrying him through a very scary time.

He could eventually sleep knowing they were there for him: his father, so willing to spend time and just be with him, his oldest brother, so willing to try and solve his problems, his Hoss so willing to sleep in his room and comfort the fear. He was able to sleep knowing he was loved.
 

The realization that came to Joe, the fact that he needed to surround himself with people, made Adam’s plan for helping his little brother cope much easier to implement. Joe began to return to the duties of helping to run the ranch, and soon discovered that if he exhausted himself during the day, he would fall off to sleep at night with little difficulty. The exhaustion kept him from the memories, as he drove himself hard. He was up early with the rest of the family and was quickly in bed once the evening meal concluded. He made himself focus on each task he undertook, not allowing his mind to wander to the bad. As he learned more of how to handle his head, he grew in confidence. It did not take away the fear, that would be impossible to do, but it did give him a different feeling to combat the fear. It gave him power. He found working hard was at first difficult for him, given his body’s need for healing, but it allowed him to get back into shape, and that in itself brought on more security. As he began feeling better physically, he felt less vulnerability, and his feelings of control became stronger.

The day had been long, as Joe worked with Adam clearing out a fence line. Joe was hot, dirty and tired and saw a source of relief nearby. He walked to a nearby water hole and doused himself, letting out a sigh as the water relieved some of his discomfort. He then moved back over to where his older brother sat under a tree and took up a place next to him. Joe had something on his mind he had been hesitant to discuss with Adam. He had avoided approaching the issue, due to his concern Adam might view him as still behaving strangely. He decided while they were relaxing it would be a good time to go ahead and talk about it and see what would happen. At issue for Joe, was his need for the gun he had taken from his father’s collection. He knew he was not trusted to be safe which added to his hesitation to bring it up, but his need for the added security was greater than his fear of Adam’s response. "Um, Adam, can I ask you somethin’?"

"Sure. What’s on you’re mind?"

"Uh, you know, um… Hoss still has that gun I had that day in the loft, don’t he?"

"Boy, I don’t know. I don’t know what he did with it. Why you ask?" Adam was beginning to feel cautious.

"I, uh… I’d kinda… um… I’d like it back, I guess."

"I wanted to ask you about that gun. How come you had it? Pa gave you a new one, and I thought it was just like the one you had before. You don’t like the new one?"

Joe became openly nervous. How could he explain it to Adam in a way that did not make him sound crazy? "It was really nice of Pa to get that one for me and even make it just like my old one, but... uh, I… it uh… it just reminds me of… you know, and you know what that does to me. I get a little tetched." Joe tried to make light of his problem in hopes of distracting Adam, wanting his older brother to think his request was trivial. But inside as his anxiety increased, he put his hands on the ground and told himself, "Just feel the grass. Focus on the grass, not the other. Don’t let it happen."

"Joe, you don’t get tetched." Adam chuckled. "But why that gun? It’s a canon, and I thought you didn’t like ‘em that big."

"I don’t know. Just like it. You have a problem with me having it?"

Adam was unsure how to respond. He needed Joe to believe in himself, but he was indeed nervous about his little brother having that weapon. He remembered what he had seen in the meadow with Joe so enraged. He wondered if the weapon contributed to the incident, or was it just as Joe had said? He had never distrusted his brother before all of this and felt guilt he now doubted Joe so much. "Well, uh… I’d be lying to you if I told you it didn’t concern me. I keep thinking back to what I saw, and Joe, you were pretty scary."

"Yeah, I know. I know I was, um… but it’s been weeks since then, and I haven’t done nuthin’ uh, strange since I did that to Hop Sing. I’ve been okay since then." Joe knew it was a daily struggle inside of him to keep it all together, and he did flashback at times, but he would never reveal that. He simply prayed it would get easier and the bad would stay hidden.

"Yeah, I’ve noticed you seem better. And I know you have on a gun right now, so its not like you having one is the problem. I actually think you need it because that man is still out there somewhere, but do you think that maybe that particular gun caused you to get, uh, to get…"

"Crazy?" Joe filled in the word. "S’okay Adam, you can say it. I know what you saw was crazy, and I have a handle on it now. I can kinda feel it. It’s just a gun to me, but I’d like to have it."

"Um, listen buddy, we need to develop a plan about the man out there who did this to you. You can’t go living your life in fear forever, and something needs to be done about him. I don’t want you in any more danger."

Listening to Adam made Joe more nervous. He knew they were approaching a topic where he was at great risk for losing control. He noted he was breathing rapidly and made himself calm. "Just breathe. Calm down and breathe." He said over and over in his head. "Uh, Adam, I can’t tell you who the man is… I don’t know, uh… what he looks like so, there’s nothin’ to do. I think it’s over. I’m better, and he’ll just leave me be."

Adam knew Joe was lying about not knowing what the man looked like, but he wondered if he should push again. He sat looking intently at his little brother asking himself if he wanted to risk it? Could Joe hold it together? He wished he knew the best way to proceed. "Buddy, I can tell you’re doing a lot better, but this man, he hurt you so badly. And I cannot for the life of me understand why he’s allowing you to just walk away. I think back to the livery and about how he got to you. It concerns me."

The Livery. A quick flash. "Hold on, come on, keep it together." Joe thought. He looked down to the ground. "Focus on it, just focus." He said, "Adam, don’t worry ‘bout it. I don’t want you involved no more. It’s over, and he’s gone." Joe silently prayed his voice would not give away his secret.

"But Joe, he would have killed you if… " With that Adam’s voice left Joe’s awareness. The roar of images filled his head. He was holding tight to the grass as he moved in and out of reality. He was fighting hard to stay present and keep Adam unaware of the struggle.

"… and it would help if we had you maybe see the posters in Roy’s office." Adam continued to explain unaware Joe was gone from him.

"I’m sorry." Joe said aloud as the Stranger commanded him to apologize.

"Joe? You have nothing to apologize for. Why are you saying you’re sorry?"

Hearing his name brought Joe’s attention back to Adam. "Uh… huh?"

"Why’d you say you were sorry? What’s there to be sorry about?"

"Oh, uh, just that… um… sorry for all the grief, I guess." Joe desperately hoped Adam had not noticed what had just happened. He wanted the gun and knew if Adam still thought he was a danger he would never get the weapon.

"You aren’t the cause of grief, well not this time." Adam tried to make light of the situation. "You have nothing to be sorry about, buddy. I want you better. I really want you okay. Seeing you so bad off and hurting just makes me want to go after this guy. I know Hoss feels the same way I do. Joe, you’re our little brother. We look out for you. That’s what brothers do."

Joe voice was very soft as he tried to keep focused on Adam and not the other. He looked down at the grass he held in his hands as he talked. "Adam, I looked after you too and I did it cause I love you. You have no idea… um… never mind. I don’t want to talk about it. I want the gun back and I want this all over. It has to be over. You tell me you want me better, well I’ll get better if you let it drop. I’m not thinkin’ ‘bout it all the time like I was. My back’s gettin’ better. I’m gettin’ my strength back and I’m out and about. I think I’m fine. Now how ‘bout the gun?"

Adam knew he was in a precarious position and wondered how he had gotten there. He felt much more like Joe’s father as they spoke, and if he were wise enough to see the future he would know that as it was in the past, when the roles blurred there was always an explosion. However, Adam was trapped in his own pain and hurt, and this guided his decision. That and the love he felt for his little brother. " Okay, I’ll tell Hoss to give you the gun. But Joe, you’re telling me everything aren’t you?"

"I’m tellin’ you what I need, Adam. I need it all to go away. I need you to let it go. I’m tryin’ to and I can’t worry about you and Hoss too. It’s too big any other way. Can you just let it go? Please?"

"This is what you really want? You want this man to go free after he hurt you so bad?"

"I can’t do it no other way. Maybe later, maybe never, hell, I don’t know what I want ‘bout him. I want it ended. I do know that." Although he felt bad about lying, Joe knew he could not share his own plans for the Stranger. He believed it would not be acceptable what he wanted to do, but he rationalized that he had crossed over to bad already, so anything he did no longer mattered. He further reasoned if he were bad, he might as well use the bad in him to rid the world of a person such as the Stranger. He found it to be fitting.

"I’m not sure if I can let it go, but I will for now. I will for you Joe. But I can’t help feeling you’re in danger and this is far from over. I appreciate you sticking to our agreement and staying close to Hoss or myself. I don’t think we can let our guard down. We can’t lose you, Joe. It would destroy this family if we didn’t have you. You know… I guess we don’t talk like this much do we?"

It was feeling uncomfortable to Joe as he listened to Adam speak. He knew his older brother found times like this difficult. He also knew he did not want to be close to anyone. It would be too dangerous that they could see the bad. He had become successful in hiding it the past few weeks and he had to continue the charade. "We don’t talk so much cause you and me have this understanding. I am always right and you’re always wrong." Joe said his comment with a straight face and then grinned.

"Ah, so that’s our agreement is it? I always thought it was the other way around. Well anyway, we should be getting home. It’s suppertime. I’ll race you if you think that nag of yours can handle it."

"You’re on, older brother. I just hope at your age you will know how to handle your whippin’ like an adult." And with that Joe was to his feet and quickly to Cochise. Adam soon was close behind.
 

There remained one thing Joe believed he needed to make right, and as the days passed he knew he had to take care of it, to right a wrong. He continued to feel bad about what had happened with Katie and wanted to apologize to her. He doubted she would accept it, and even pictured her giving him more of how she had responded to him when the incident occurred, but he felt he had to at least try. He found his opportunity when Adam and Hoss invited him to travel with them into town. The idea of him having to explain what he wanted to do while there made him very uncomfortable and he hoped to avoid having to give details.

The three rode their horses at an easy pace into Virginia City. They lightly bantered as they traveled but there was an unspoken. As they rode, Hoss and Adam flanked Joe as if wanting to provide any amount of protection they could. It had developed into a habit with the two older siblings, each always cautious and concerned over the youngest, each determined he would be safe from outside threat or internal demon. Joe was aware of his brothers’ need to protect and where he would normally be highly irritated with their hovering, he now found it helping to contain him. He had made no protest prior to the trip to town and had willingly accepted the manner his brothers chose to care for him.

Upon the horses entering Virginia City, Joe repeatedly scanned the area as his anxiety rose. He thought, "Too many people, way too many. I can’t watch them all. How can I do this? Oh geez. Just watch Cooch’s ears. Just look at them and no where’s else. But no, wait. I’ll miss seeing if he’s here. Oh boy this is bad. Hold on." Joe’s eyes then darted to Hoss who caught his look. Joe tried to smile nonchalantly knowing that if his brothers saw his panic it would not help him. Joe then turned to Adam, but Adam was looking away. Joe thought, "Oh boy, I just wanna go home. Really dumb idea, Joe. Really dumb."

The men pulled up their horses in front of the telegraph office and Hoss quickly was away to get the mail. Joe saw this as a chance to tell Adam he had an errand he wished to complete alone. "Uh, Adam, I got uh something I need to do. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Maybe meet you guys at the Silver Dollar for a beer?"

"Joe, you’re not gonna go off by yourself. You know the agreement. What do you need to do?"

"I just need about thirty minutes to take care of somethin’ and I’ll be right back." Joe was beginning to become frustrated.

"No. We can’t risk that. I’ll go with you." Adam began to wonder what was suddenly so important that Joe was willing to break their agreement. Prior to this Joe had seemed almost relieved at Hoss’ or his own presence most times. He wondered why the change.

"I don’t want you to go with me. I want to go by myself. Now I’m an adult and I’m gonna do it. I’ll be back." Joe’s tone was harsher as he began to resist.

Adam grabbed Joe by the arm and Joe quickly pulled it away and growled, "Don’t touch me!"

Adam knew he was headed for trouble with Joe if he could not get his little brother calm. "Okay buddy, I’m sorry I grabbed you, just calm down a second. Listen you know you can’t be alone. You remember what happened last time you were in town alone? Now I’ve kept all this from Pa because you were willing to go by the agreement and you’re getting so much better, but if something else happens, I can’t keep it from Pa anymore."

Joe glared at Adam as he tried to keep himself calm. "I know the agreement, you don’t have to blackmail me with it. I am trying to fix what happened before. What I did. I need to… I want to… Damn it, Adam. Don’t I get any privacy? I just need to go apologize and I don’t need my big brother goin’ with me. How would that look? I already look like a carnival act, so why make it worse?"

"Joe, you don’t need to apologize. It’s over and done with, and Katie knows you didn’t mean anything by what happened. I made sure of that. Now calm down. Lets get our business done and have that beer, okay?"

"No. I’ll not have you cleaning up after me. It is my responsibility and my obligation. I’m gonna go do this and you can do what ever the hell it is you think you need to do. I guess I can’t appear any more off… You do what ever you want. I just don’t care no more. I don’t care ‘bout any of it." And with that Joe pushed by Adam headed down the street.

What neither man realized was there was a figure in the alley near where they spoke. The man stood in the shadows his heart racing with excitement as he smoked a cigarette and smiled. He found himself impatient to take what he viewed was now his possession, but knew he must wait, the unification must be a work of art. He restrained himself and listened intently. "Ah, I’ll make you care, Pretty Boy. I’ll make you worthy to be my son. Then you’ll care. You’ll care about the right things. There’s that spunk in you I find so facinating and I’ll teach you to use it. I’ll teach you and you with thank me. You will make things most interesting for me. Most interesting indeed." The figure threw down the cigarette and trailed after the departing brothers.

Adam caught up with his little brother just as Joe stopped in front of a ladies shop. "Joe, tell you what. You do what you have to do. I’ll wait across the street and down away. Then when you go on over to D street I’ll do the same. Deal?"

"I said I didn’t care." Joe turned and went into the shop.

Adam shook his head and walked across the street. He stood leaning against a building waiting. Joe soon reemerged from the shop with a box in his hand and immediately headed to see Katie. Adam fell in behind as did the Stranger. The three moved to a seedier section of town, Joe in the lead. He paused a moment to see Adam had stopped following and then headed down the alley.

The room was dark and the perfume heavy as Joe entered. His nervousness increased as he saw several men sitting with various women. "Stupid idea, Joe." He told himself as a woman approached.

"Hey there cute thing, your mama let you come out and play?" A pretty blond approached him.

"Hmm… is uh… Katie… available?" Joe asked feeling very awkward.

"What? You don’t like me?" The woman asked flashing Joe her body.

"I need to see Katie, if she is… available… Please?" Joe almost left until he heard the woman’s sultry voice leave and another more rustic one take its place. He heard her yell, "Katie, for you." And then the woman left.

Joe waited a moment and then saw Katie materialize. He was hesitant to speak and looked to the floor. Katie saw who it was and was taken aback. She never thought she would see him again. "Hey cowboy. Surprised you’re here. You and me kinda um… Are you okay?"

Joe looked around feeling incredibly exposed. Katie saw his discomfort and pulled him to the back room. "So why are you here, Joe? What is it? Your brother explained what happened. I’m sorry you got… uh… you were reminded of the stuff that had happened."

"No Katie, please let me apologize. I want you to have this and to let you know that I didn’t mean you no harm. I didn’t and I feel really bad ‘bout what I did." Joe continued to look at the floor as he apologized. His guilt weighed heavy.

"Hey, cowboy, you didn’t do nothin’ so bad. I got scared and I think you did too. You did nothing to me. See I’m just fine. You have nothin’ to worry about."

"But I don’t… I’d never…"

Katie took Joe’s chin in her hand. "I know that, cowboy. You really bought me a present? For me?" Katie could see Joe felt horrid over the ordeal and wanted to help him.

"Well, I uh… I messed up your other… you know… " Was all Joe could say.

Katie took and opened the box to see an expensive dressing gown. Much more elaborate and costly than anything she had owned. She looked to him and smiled. "Joe, you’re a gentleman, through and through. Thank you. This is beautiful. But you didn’t have to. I understood. I really did."

"I’m sorry, Katie. Sorry I got uh… strange. I didn’t mean any of it." Joe looked her in the eye as he spoke. He needed her to know it was an accident.

"Cowboy, you are a class guy, ya know that. And you look so handsome. I see that face I love lookin’ at me. You look good baby. It’s all gone, huh?"

"Yeah… all gone." Joe said as a prayer. Katie placed her arms around him and kissed him hard.

"Want to see your purchase on me?" She asked teasing.

"Nah, you enjoy it. I hope you like it. And Katie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it." Joe said once more as he gathered himself and walked away.

Katie watched him leave, and shook her head. She said aloud as she touched her mouth, "Oh Joe, you are a good guy."

Soon Joe reappeared in the street and walked to Adam. He saw his brother studying him intently. "I’m fine, Adam. Nuthin’ happened. I was a good boy. So lets go get Hoss." Joe continued his pace and the two returned to the main street of town.

The Stranger watched where his protégé had gone and smiled. "Ah, Pretty Boy shame on you. You know those kind of women will lead you astray. And here I was thinking you were a fine, upstanding young man. Tsk, tsk. Now what would your pappy say?" He could not help but laugh out loud as he enjoyed the game he had begun. Soon he would make the kid aware he was there and ready for them to continue the dance. He followed behind, his eyes never leaving his intended prey. "Yes, class is about to start. A few more details and I take what is mine."

As Joe and Adam returned to C Street, Hoss walked over with obvious frustration on his face. "Where in tar-nation have you two been? I’ve been looking all over for you."

"We went to a brothel." Joe said flippantly and walked past Hoss.

"Yeah, right. No, really where’d y’all go?" Hoss chuckled.

Adam knew Joe was irritated at him and it was why he had said what he had. "Sorry Hoss. Joe needed to talk to someone a minute, so I went with him to do it. We should have told you where we were going."

"Well it’s no big deal, just got concerned. Where to now?"

"I’ve got some papers to sign at the attorney’s office so you sit on Joe. Then we’ll get a beer. Maybe that will help his bad mood." Adam directed.

"He was in a good one comin’ in. What happened?"

"Oh you know him. He’s mad I wouldn’t let him go off on his own. He’ll get over it."

The three brothers moved to the family attorney’s office and Adam went in. Joe and Hoss stood outside, Joe sulking and Hoss trying to entertain. Joe was leaning against the hitching post ever observant of the people who passed by. He was more anxious than mad, but found focusing on his anger allowed him to let down his guard some and not be so hyper alert. He was watching a woman he thought was attractive walk by, when he thought he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye that he recognized. His heart jumped at the thought, but when he looked the figure was gone. He scanned the area, no sign of the man. "Was that him or am I just getting’ all worked up?" He wondered what he should do. He looked at Hoss who was talking about something Joe had not paid attention to. "If I go over and look and it ain’t him, I’m gonna look odd." He thought a moment and came up with an idea. "Hey Hoss, I’m gonna go check out the stuff in the mercantile window. I’ll be back."

"I’ll go with you. This is boring standing here."

"It’s just right there. You can see me the whole time. I don’t need you holdin’ my hand."

"I ain’t holdin’ your hand. I wanna see if that new shipment of boots came in anyway. My feet get so dadburn squished in these here I got."

"Do what you want." Joe said already walking away. He scanned the area, trying to look casual. He wanted to look down several of the alleys they passed so as to make sure no one was hiding out of view. He saw no one and his heart slowed. Hoss quickly joined him and the two stood looking in the mercantile window. Joe was not really interested in what was there and was doing it more as a distraction than anything. His eyes traveled over the glass, and landed on a reflection. It was there and gone in an instant. Joe turned quickly to see if it was the one he suspected. He saw people on the street, but not the man, not-the Stranger. His pulse quickened once more, as his hand was on his gun. He was frantically searching the people. "Boy, I really am losing it." He thought to himself.

Hoss saw his brother looking around. "What’s wrong, Joe? What is it?" Hoss looked to where Joe’s attention was focused.

"Uh… nuthin’. It’s nuthin’. Never mind. Let’s go back over and wait."

"Joe, what’s gotten into you. You’re jumpier than a frog on a skillet."

"Just come on." Joe had already started to move away from the mercantile. He walked to the attorney’s office but did not pause, as he continued to walk to the saloon, which he entered. Hoss, concerned with what was bothering his brother, followed behind. Joe took a seat towards the back of the establishment wanting his back against the wall. He could have it no other way, as he knew he could not protect every angle. He grabbed sight of one of the saloon girls and ordered a beer for himself and Hoss. He assumed he would be joined and was not disappointed.

The beers were brought to the table and Joe downed his quickly. He needed something to relieve the fear and wanted it lost in alcohol. He ordered another as soon as he could and anxiously awaited the relief he sought. As the beer arrived, once more Joe drank it fast, feeling his body start to relax. He wanted the feelings, images and thoughts gone as he sat in the saloon but was afraid that they would stay regardless of how he tried to force them to leave. He ordered his third, wanting the fear to dissolve in the drink. Hoss sat watching, unable to determine what was right. He thought of saying something, but knew all he would get back would be an angry response. Hoss simply let Joe do as he pleased.

The saloon doors opened and Adam appeared. He scanned the room and saw his brothers in the corner. He moved over and sat down with ease. "I thought you two were going to be on the street waiting, but I guess you couldn’t wait for that beer. You guys got what you need?"

"All I need." Joe talked into the glass he held to his mouth.

Hoss and Adam exchanged looks, both knowing they needed to leave Joe alone and let him approach them. The three sat drinking as Adam and Hoss made small talk. Joe finally began to relax as he sat back and slouched in his chair. He was beginning to go numb and eventually allowed his head to let down its defenses and stopped being so concerned about those around him. He sat watching the pretty saloon girl serve drinks around the room as he half listened to his brothers. He let his guard down as he felt the liquor bring on the numb. He desired to be in place that he often longed for when he felt something was too intense, too big to handle. It had become a familiar longing since Reno. A longing to be without thought and without feeling.

The Stranger sat and watched the kid as he decided exactly how he would reveal his presence. His tension was growing as he anticipated the reaction and smiled. He asked, "Would the kid welcome him? No, that’s too much to hope for. The kid should know the game was not over. Surely, he knew that much." Class was beginning. He saw his student sitting, enjoying a beer. "Ah Pretty Boy, we will share many drinks together. You will love me and what I can do for you."

As Joe’s eyes followed the woman around the room they suddenly stopped as they landed on a figure. On THE figure. On the Stranger. Suddenly, there was no one else in the room but Joe and HIM, as all other images moved away from Joe’s vision. He could not help but lock eyes. He was trapped and could do nothing but stare, his face suddenly pale, his body paralyzed. The draw was all encompassing and Joe was ensnared. He could do nothing as the Stranger took the lead in the dance.

The Stranger smiled as he caught the kid’s eye. "Surprise! Ah, what’s that look? You look shocked, Pretty Boy. You’re hurting my feelings. You knew I was coming."

Adam and Hoss continued talking, each unaware of what was occurring in their brother. The sadistic dance had begun as terror began its crescendo inside Joe. He could do nothing more than watch as the Stranger remove a gun from his holster and, holding it under the table out of other people’s view, began to caress the barrel. His eyes never left Joe’s as he smiled a wicked smile. Joe knew the weapon was his. He simply knew it without looking. The waves of fear pounded over him, the noises of the saloon magnified. His sense on maximum as his mind fought to live. His heart was beating through his chest and his breathing became rapid.

The Stranger pointed the gun first at Adam and mouthed the words, "bang". He then did the same to Hoss, once more a silent, "bang". The Stranger was enjoying the game. He was exhilarated by the power. He was in his element as the excitement grew. "Come on, Pretty Boy. What ‘cha gonna do? Your move."

Joe did nothing as he stared at the man. His thoughts were rushing in his head as images flashed and his body betrayed his need for safety. He knew he needed to cry out but no words would come. There was no help, no safety, only evil in his world.

Hoss looked over at Joe and saw his little brother not moving. The expression on Joe’s face was fear. "Joe? You okay buddy?"

Hoss’s question made Adam look to their brother as well. He recognized the look. Something was wrong.

Joe heard his name and wanted to cry out, but all he could emit was a low moan. He began breathing in gasps as the panic hit full on. He was staring ahead unable to change focus.

Adam knew the reaction instantly and deduced the man had to be around somewhere close. Joe’s reaction showed the same terror of the livery. He knew Joe had seen him. "Joe, is he here? Joe, talk to us! Where is he?"

Joe continued the soft moan as his fear seized him.

Adam looked to where Joe was staring. There was no one there. He frantically searched the room. "Where is he, Joe? Where? Come on tell me!" He saw Joe was beyond reach but could not simply sit and comfort his brother. He had to help. He had to get the man. Adam stood and frantically moved through the people. He was driven to find the man in his brother’s nightmares, but had no idea who he was looking for. "Damn it! Who is he?"

Joe sat trembling as he realized he had not done as he had thought he would. He had not drawn the gun he believed in. His protection had remained in his holster, the thought of the weapon having never entered his mind. "Oh God!" were the words he finally was able to emit. "Oh God!" His shaking was violent and he began to try and calm himself by the familiar rocking. He could not move his eyes from the table where the Stranger had so calmly sat, taunting and laughing.

Hoss had his weapon drawn as he watched Adam survey each person. He then moved to Joe and without touching him began to talk very softly to him. "It’s s’okay, Little Buddy. It’s all right. Calm down buddy. Ssshhh… Adam’s tryin’ to help. Is he here Joe? Tell me. Come on buddy, can you tell me where he is Joe? Where is the man?"

Joe simply moaned louder unable to do more. The patrons in the saloon were by now watching a frantic Adam and a panicked Joe as the intensity of the two permeated the room. Hoss grabbed his little brother’s chin and turned his face towards him. He knew it could make Joe worse to touch him, but he was desperate to get Joe to talk to him. His little brother was in danger. "Joe look at me. Look at Ol’ Hoss. Tell me. Is the man still here? Tell me!"

Joe’s eyes at first did not focus on Hoss. He looked passed him, the image of the Stranger so vivid. Hoss could feel Joe shake and knew the terror was extreme. He knew to keep talking, "Joe, look at me and tell me. Where is he?"

"Wh-wh-where… He’s a, he’s a, he’s… not there. No one… not there." Joe’s eyes landed on Hoss and he felt the need to be rescued. "Oh God, Hoss! Get me home! Please get me home! I gotta go home! I gotta go home! Please, Hoss! Please!"

Adam had moved back to his brothers his frustration evident. "Joe, is the man in the saloon? Is he here?"

For a moment Joe could not shift focus from Hoss as his face continued to beg. He heard Adam say his name once more and he looked to his oldest brother. "No, Adam. He’s… he’s uh… gone. I wanna go home now. Take me home. Please!"

"Buddy, we need to go to the sheriff. We need to talk to Roy. He can help." Adam coaxed.

"NO! I gotta go home! I gotta! Oh God! PLEASE!"

It was obvious Joe was close to hysteria as the terror hit him hard. Adam knew then it would be best to get Joe home, but he wanted the man caught and punished for doing this to his little brother. It was so painful to see Joe’s panic. "Okay Joe, we’ll go home. Hoss and I’ll get you home."

"Adam, I need Pa. I need him to help me. I can’t do it no more. I need Pa to help. Please get me to Pa!"

In that moment, as Joe begged for his father, Adam realized he had made an enormous mistake. Joe was now saying so clearly what he needed, as Adam had missed the subtle signs Joe had previously given. Joe needed his father and Adam had stood in the way. He began to have a sinking feeling inside himself. Had he made Joe worse? "We’ll get you to Pa, Joe. I promise. We’ll get you home and I’ll tell Pa. I’ll tell him everything. I’m sorry Joe. I’m really sorry, buddy."

Adam and Hoss placed Joe between them as they helped him move out of the saloon. Joe was trembling as he tried to walk and his legs were uncertain. His brothers all but carried him to his horse and helped him mount up. The three rode their horse full out back to the sanctuary that was home. Joe could only hold fast to Cochise telling himself over and over, he would be home and to his father soon.

He had not left the saloon, rather he had ducked back behind the staircase. He was not pleased. He had watched the kid’s reaction and was disgusted. "Pretty Boy, you stop that! Stop it now!" He had felt rage at how the kid was coddled by the other two. "You’re ruining him with all that fuss! Stop that! You’ll make him no good to me!" He had watched them escort his protégé out the door. "Damn them! They’re weak! If you are weak Pretty Boy you will die! No more coddling! It’s time you were a man!" The stranger walked to the table where the kid had sat. He looked at the kid’s glass, still half full. He reached down and brought the glass to his mouth. He drank the beer and setting the glass back down he looked to the saloon girl as she passed. He pulled her close and kissed her hard. For now she would allow the tension to be reduced, he would claim his power with her so to tap off and quell his impulse to act before he was ready.

He grabbed the woman by the hand and commanded, "Take me upstairs. I must have you. NOW!"

The saloon girl obliged. Money her own aphrodisiac. "After you." She said in her most seductive voice. He took her and then took her life. 

The three Cartwrights rode fast and furious to the stability of the ranch. Once there, they did not bother to stable the horses, rather they focused on safety and moved Joe into the house. All three felt themselves relax some as they entered and there was a collective sigh of relief. Joe looked around for his father, anxious to be near him. The great room was empty.

Hop Sing, hearing the door, moved to greet the family. "Mr. Adam, Mr. Cartwright tell me to tell he be late tonight."

Joe felt his heart race once more as any peace he felt at being home left. "No! He can’t be late. I gotta see him. I’m gonna go find him."

Joe immediately turned back for the door, but Adam stepped in front of him. "No you don’t Joe. You need to stay here and wait for Pa. You can’t go running around out in the open."

"Get out of my way, Adam. I gotta get to Pa." Joe was frantic, his only thought getting to his father and calming the fear inside of him.

"No. You’re not going. It’s too dangerous." Adam knew that with the words he spoke, he was headed for a struggle with Joe. He watched as a familiar look came over his little brother’s face - the look was rage. He braced himself for the explosion that was about to occur.

"Adam, get outta my way! I mean it! You got no right to do this! I need Pa!" Joe plowed forward, his only thought to get out the door and to his horse. Adam grabbed him by the shoulders, which result in Joe’s desperation overwhelming him. "Damn you, Adam!" Joe’s next movement was to throw a punch hitting Adam firmly in the stomach.

Hoss immediately joined the fray, placing himself to Joe’s back and pulling his little brother away from Adam. Although Joe was no longer within striking distance of Adam, he was flailing around frantically, attempting to be released from Hoss’ clutches. "LET ME GO! DAMN YOU, HOSS! LET GO A ME! I MEAN IT!"

"Nope, no way Joseph. Not ‘til you calm yourself down and quit this fighting. Adam’s right. You can’t go traipsing all over tar-nation with that man out there. Pa will be home soon and we’ll all talk about it."

"NO! I need Pa now! I can’t do it no more! I can’t and he’s gotta help me! You don’t know what it’s like! None of you do! I can’t do it! I can’t!" Joe felt a wave of panic wash over him. He could not catch his breath as he felt the rush of fear and terror. He began to shake as he tried to talk, "Hoss… I can’t… breathe… Let… go… Hoss… please!"

Hoss was immediately alarmed with the change in Joe. He had gone from struggling and fighting to almost collapsing. Hoss moved his little brother to the couch and sat him down. "What’s wrong, Joe? What is it?"

"I don’t know… I can’t breathe… My chest hurts… I feel really strange." Joe had put his head down, as he soon felt faint. "It feels like I’m gonna pass out."

"Keep your head down, buddy." Adam instructed and then added, "I’ll get the brandy."

Joe was fighting becoming ill as he wrestled to keep himself under control. He felt the fear taking him and knew he would have to ride it through, but it was hard not to want to fight against it. He held himself tightly together, eyes closed as he talked to himself in his head, "Come on now. Calm down. Breathe, and it will stop. Just slow it down and breathe."

Adam was soon sitting next to Joe with a glass of brandy. He had to call Joe’s name to get his little brother to open his eyes and take the drink. Joe downed it quick and said, "Give me another." Adam complied with the request and soon that drink was gone as well. Joe remained seated, not moving, waiting for relief. It did not come fast enough to suit him so he grabbed for the brandy himself. Both Adam and Hoss sat watching as Joe poured himself a full glass. He then just as quickly drank it.

Hoss watched, feeling the need to intervene. "Hey buddy, enough."

"I’ll say when it’s enough, Hoss. Either I go get Pa or I drink ‘til it feels better. You both won’t let me get Pa, so leave me alone and let me do what I gotta do." Joe did not bother to look up at Hoss as he focused on the table in front of him. He was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol and prayed relief would come soon. However, the waves of panic continued pounding on him as Joe poured another. He did not want to wait to feel if he had drunk enough. He wanted instant relief and believed a continuous assault of alcohol to fight against the panic would accomplish his goal.

Adam moved away and signaled Hoss to follow. Hoss reluctantly left Joe but held a watchful eye on his little brother. Adam saw the situation was precarious and could not fault Joe. He knew the youngest Cartwright was barely hanging on and did not need anything further to upset him. He stood back thinking of a few short hours ago when Joe had once more been caught in the terror of a living nightmare. He then felt his own guilt take over. It seemed things were only getting worse the more he tried to help his little brother. As he watched Joe get drunk, he thought, "Joe, I’m sorry. I really am. I was trying to help. I really was. I’d never want you hurting like this. Damn it! If I’d only left Baxter alone. This should have never have happened. If only… Joe, are you ever gonna be okay?"

No one spoke as time passed in the great room. Joe had lost count of the drinks he had drunk and was finally calming. He remained seated on the couch as he poured yet another. He tried to drink it, but ended up dumping it down the front of his shirt. He sat looking at his shirt the spill did not register at first. Finally, as his slowed thoughts caught up with the situation he said, "Oh Damn."

"What’s wrong, buddy?" Hoss was quickly to Joe once more.

"Not to worry big brother. Just spilt stuff on me. I’ll go up and get a clean one so Pa don’t know I’ve been drinkin’." Joe went to stand and as he did he swayed noticeably. Hoss tried to help him, but Joe pulled away. "I got it jus’ fine. I’m gonna go find a shirt. You stay here." Joe stumbled as he made his way to the stairs and then pulled himself up towards his room.

Once up the stairs Joe crashed into the wall several times before making it to his room. As he weaved and swayed his way down the hall he began to take off his shirt, finally dropping it at the entrance to his room. He made his way inside and stood momentarily confused. He looked around the room and then said aloud, "They won’t let me see Pa. Who do they think they are? I need him and I gotta get to him. Adam thinks he’s the boss of everythin’. Not my boss. Nope. I ain’t taken no orders from him no more. I’m the boss of me." Joe’s eyes continued to scan the room and then he had a thought. "That’s what I’ll do. More ‘en one way outta this fort."

Joe moved to his window and started to open it, but lost his balance and stepped backward. He was beginning to feel dizzy as the alcohol caught up with him. It was hard to keep the room from spinning. "Oh, this ain’t good." Joe said to no one. "Gotta make it stop spinnin’ then I’ll get Pa. Stop the spinnin’. Then get Pa. Yeah that’s what I’ll do." Joe then plopped over on the bed and was quickly lost to the alcohol.
 

He remained outside preparing for his debut. The house was large, but he deemed it to be of no real challenge to him as he reviewed his plan. He once more removed the book he had found which would provide the assistance he needed without having to rely on the stupidity of an accomplice. "It will amaze and thrill you Pretty Boy what I can do. You will know you are with a magnificent teacher and you will beg me to show you the way. You will not be weak. You will not. You’ll pay if I see that sniveling, whining child you had the audacity to show me in town. You will be punished for doing that to me. I didn’t care for it in the slightest."

The Stranger stood reading from the book. He read over the instructions spelled out so clearly in the text. Three drops on a rag was all that was needed to have the kid submit. It was risky, as the procedure would not be performed as it was suggested in the book. "Ah well. Another interesting challenge. Hmm… but if it goes wrong Pretty Boy, it will be your fault. You will be unworthy, and I’ll have my answer." He reviewed the procedures a final time and then talked to his protégé in his head. "This shall prove interesting. You have challenged me to new heights. Yes, I’d like to try this. I do hope you make it worth my while. Are you ready Pretty Boy? Once I have it all in place and time is perfect, we reunite. I know you’ll love it!"
 

Evening turned to night as Ben dragged himself through the door of the ranch house. He had spent the day haggling with Phillip Henry over water rights and his head was pounding. He entered the great room to see his two oldest sons sitting, heavy in discussion.

"Evening boys, sorry to be so late. You boys been home long?"

"Hey Pa." Adam answered. "We got back early this afternoon. You look tired. Everything okay?"

"Oh yes. Just tired from putting up with Phillip’s need to review things right down to the punctuation in those contracts. I tell you, that man just looks for something to argue over. Well, I’m hungry as well. You boys eaten?"

"No we were waiting for you." Adam responded as he and Hoss moved over to the table.

Ben looked around expecting to see his youngest emerge. "Where’s Joseph?"

"Uh, Pa… Joe’s upstairs asleep. I went up a couple hours ago and he had fallen asleep across his bed. Um… listen Pa, let’s sit down to eat cause I know you are tired and hungry. Tell me about the contracts and then, uh… there are a couple things I’d like to talk to you about."

"Is Joe okay? Maybe I should go check on him?" Ben was immediately concerned.

"No, uh… Pa, he’s fine. Lets just sit and eat and I’ll fill you in on… everything." The last thing Adam felt like doing was eating. He knew his father was going to be outraged at having been kept in the dark regarding Joe’s condition, and more importantly that they had kept the information regarding the man who had hurt Joe from him. He dreaded the fallout.

Hop Sing was quick to place the food around the table and, using the water pitcher he had taken from the kitchen, he filled each glass with water. He soon disappeared once more into the kitchen to continue to care for his family.
 

The room was quiet as he stood watching the kid sleep. The blankets were tossed aside as the kid lay on his stomach. His heart was racing as he realized it was all coming to pass. He would have his son and he would have a legacy. He saw himself living on through the kid and he felt the power. It was intoxicating. The lamplight was soft as he looked upon his student. He smiled. He saw his brand upon the student’s back. "You have a reminder of me I see. Five marks from our previous encounter. It shows you are indeed mine." The Stranger reached out and ran his finger down one of the whip marks. Joe grumbled and stirred, but did not wake. The Stranger continued. He could not resist the attraction as he ran his finger down each one. He remembered the cellar. "You fought hard, Pretty Boy. Will you fight again? This will be our destiny. We will unite or your blood will make me stronger."

He continued to smile as he reached out to Joe’s arm and shook it. "Son, come on wake up. Wake up Joseph. It's your father. I’m here for you."

Joe heard the voice and was confused. His head was cloudy but he felt the touch. He struggled with the desire to ignore the voice and stay in his sleep but the draw to his father was strong and he resisted the urge.

Joe rolled over and called out in a sleepy voice, "Pa?"

Suddenly there was a hand over his mouth. Joe was immediately awake as he felt the pressure on his mouth. He moved quickly to squirm away as he tried to get his legs under him. He reached up to grab the hand that silenced him all the while he looked into the eyes of his nightmare. Joe was all movement as he grabbed the hand struggling to pull it from his mouth. He had to call out. He had to have help for those just in the room below him. He was pulling hard on the Stranger’s hand as he kicked and flailed. The Stranger slapped him hard across the face as he said. "Hello there, Pretty Boy. That’s it. Keep fighting. I like it so when you fight."

Joe had no time to think as he reacted. He had to get this man away from him. Joe opened his mouth and bit down hoping this would release the hold on his mouth. The man did not flinch. He remained focused on his victim as he pulled back and slapped Joe once more. "Don’t you hurt me, Pretty Boy. You’ll make me mad."

Blood began to pour from Joe’s nose as he struggled and endured the slaps. The Stranger kept his hand firmly on Joe’s mouth as he used his other to pull Joe to a seated position. The strength of the man was alarming as Joe felt himself manipulated like a rag doll. The man pushed Joe back against the headboard. "Now Pretty Boy, you and I are going to have a discussion. You remember our discussions? You sit there and behave, and you listen like your life depends on it, cause you know what? It does. Now, you are going to go with me and do exactly what I say. You know I am a man of my word and I do as I say. I expect the same from you. Do you understand?"

Joe continued to struggle, his desire to get away stronger than any other. He had to get away from this man. He felt the man’s strong hand on his throat and then the squeeze. His mouth remained cover as he began to see stars. The pressure remained until he stopped moving and then it was released. He tried to gulp in air but the Stranger never moved his hand from Joe’s mouth. Joe was lightheaded as he heard the Stranger continue, "Now, if you will not do it for yourself, do it for that so called family of yours downstairs. If you do not do everything I tell you to do, I will kill them and you will watch me do it. Do you understand?"

"This isn’t happening! OH GOD! It’s not real! Please!" Joe begged in his head all the while knowing the truth. Joe stopped struggling at that moment. He had to try and save his family. He could not let them die. He would die before he let the Stranger harm them.

"Thought you’d see it my way." The Stranger smiled at Joe and then tossled his hair. "Now Pretty Boy, this is what I expect of you. I own you now. You are mine. You have any doubt of this I will give you a quick reminder. Believe me you won’t like it. You will do exactly as I say, when I say it. I have some business to take up with Ben Cartwright and those other two and then we are gone. If you do anything to upset me, I will kill Ben Cartwright. Shake your head yes if you understand."

"NO! You leave them alone! Stay away!" Joe thought. He nodded his head yes.

"Fine then. I have your gun here to remind you of how serious I am. If I have to Pretty Boy, they all die. Okay, now you are going to move to the side of the bed and stand. You will make no move I do not approve of. Got it?"

Again Joe shook his head. He tried to make himself think, but the fear was growing as the Stranger exerted total control. The sense of helplessness was washing over him as he felt the man’s power. The man was held his life.

Unaware of the events upstairs the three men sat for dinner. Adam remained nervous regarding what he needed to discuss with his father so he encourage small talk and discussion of ranch business. As they ate, Ben filled in his two sons on his day, once more reviewing with them the needs of the herd and the needs of the land. Adam sat drinking more water than eating as he tried to formulate in his head how he would approach the subject. He had listened to very little of what his father had said and as he heard his name he returned his focus to his father. He noticed though he was beginning to feel strange.

The three each began to experience a slow onset of euphoria. Ben felt his headache leave and was thankful. Hoss felt his anxiety ease as he ate his meal and washed it down with the water Hop Sing had provided.

Adam knew he could wait no longer, but his thinking was becoming cloudy. "Uh, Pa. I need to tell you about Little Joe. There are some things that I’ve been keeping from you." Adam found his thinking to be running together and it was hard to speak.

Ben listened to his son but found it hard to comprehend. "Little Joe? What is it with Joe?"

Suddenly there was a noise of someone stumbling down the staircase. All three men turned to see Joe on the landing, his face covered in blood, a man behind him, holding firmly to him and a gun to his head. "Greetings Cartwrights! I am sensing you were not expecting me, Ben Cartwright. Now have you not been told of me? Oh a shame because I’ve been very close to your son here for weeks. You might say I’m in his blood."

Ben felt shock as he looked at his youngest son. Joe’s eyes were wide with terror as he stood very still. There was blood on his son. There was a gun to his son’s head and he had to sit unarmed and watch. "Dear God what is this?" Ben asked aloud.

"Let me fill you in shall I? You see Pretty Boy here and I have unfinished business. You remember that little incident in Reno? You know the one I mean? The one where Pretty Boy got a nasty owie or two? We were in the middle of bonding when fat boy there interrupted. Doe this refresh your memory?"

"Who are you?" Ben could not help but ask.

The Stranger let loose a laugh. You really have no idea do you? You boys are good! Pretty Boy very good! You kept our little secret from Ben. I am not pleased you told the other two, but they are of no consequence. They were fools in this! I played you all like a fiddle. This so-called family makes me laugh. You are all so beneath me. The only one worthy of me is this one."

Hoss sat stunned, this man had his baby brother and he wanted to react. He wanted to tear the man apart, but his body felt like lead. He saw Joe’s eyes and knew his little brother was beyond terror. He knew all the nightmares he had protected Joe from paled in comparison to what was now happening.

No one expected what happened next. Hop Sing had been in his room when he heard a voice he did not recognize. He moved out to check and see if they had visitors to tend. He rounded the corner and then darkness.

The gunshot rang out passed Joe’s head as the Stranger reacted to the movement. The body fell back and into the hall to the kitchen. Joe let out a scream "NO!" but it was too late, as he could only watch his beloved friend fall. "NO! HOP SING!" Joe tried to run to his friend, but the Stranger grabbed hold and began to choke him once more.

"What did I tell you, Pretty Boy? I told you the rules. Now get down those stairs." The Stranger gave a shove and Joe fell down the remainder of the stairs. He landed at the bottom and tried to get up. The Stranger was there and stepped on his back. "Boy you ever gonna learn?"

Joe lay unmoving as he stared at the floor. It was happening all over again. He would have to go through it once more. "Oh I can’t do this! I can’t!"

The Stranger seemed to read his mind as he said softly, "Pretty Boy, you remember what I told you upstairs. Do I have to kill another one?"

"NO! NO! Tell me what to do!"

"Watch your tone!" The Stranger scolded pulling Joe to his feet. As soon as Joe was standing he slapped him once more.

The three at the table felt the fear and disgust rising. They could do nothing as they watched how Joe was treated. Each feared any movement would result in Joe’s death. They could do nothing but watch. The full realization that this was what Joe had endured before hit them. It was all so evident. His recall of it had been torturous enough, but this was something beyond. This was sadism and it was obvious the man drew power from what he was doing.

"Now where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Ah, yes. Ben you need to realize you are unworthy of this one as your son. You are no longer his father, your coddling and acting as nursemaid is making him weak. He is mine. After all you did get a few more weeks with him than you should have. Pretty Boy should be dead, but instead he is now mine, a gift from the gods to me. He is now my son. You have two others so you won’t miss him much. You have no idea what you were in the presence of with this one. He is just like me in so many ways. I see it in him, as I’m sure he has seen it as well. Haven’t you Pretty Boy?"

Joe was shaking, as he knew he had to respond. His voice was soft as he said, "Uh, he’s right Pa. I’m like him. I’m just like him. Adam and Hoss know. They know about me."

Again a slap. "Don’t call him your Pa. Never again will he be that to you. I am your father now. I will be until you die. Look at me! Look me in the eye. You know you are mine and you will do as I say. It’s time to tie them up and you will do it. And Pretty Boy I will check. This is your first test. You fail it then they die. Make me proud. This is what you will do. You will go to the barn and get rope. I will be counting. If I hit the number forty Ben Cartwright ceases to be. I hit forty-one no more fat boy. Forty-two and that one you thought was so worth dying for is history. Get a move on Pretty Boy, clocks ticking."

Joe did not move, as he stood paralyzed as numbers filled the air. "This isn’t happening! No! God! Just let me die! I can’t do it! I can’t!"

The three at the table saw Joe frozen as they heard the count begin. Each wanted to call out encouragement to get Joe to move. They saw him slowly turn to them, the look of pain on his face so great. He then was quickly away as he stumbled to the door. Joe ran across the yard, unaware he had no boots on his feet. He reached the barn door and fell against it as he struggled to get it open. There was no light in the structure as Joe threw himself inside. He had only his sense of touch to use in order to find what he needed. He grappled around as his hands hit rope. He grabbed and was quickly outside. He was halfway across the yard when he looked at what was in his hand. The moonlight illuminated and his heart jumped. There was not enough rope. He had to go back.

He turned quickly to the barn and ran once more inside. He heard the counting in his own head and knew he had little time left. He felt around some more as he frantically searched. "Oh God! Joe, don’t panic! Don’t do it! There’s more here! Just find it!" His hand finally hit what he desperately needed. He turned to run once more and was on his way out when he dropped the rope. All in one motion as he ran, he bent down and scoop up the cord. He made himself sprint faster than he ever thought he could back into the house just as he heard the number thirty-eight called out.

"A little slow there, Pretty Boy. I would have thought you’d have wanted to save this family a little more. Maybe you have mixed feelings about them? Hmm… Okay, you tie them up. Here, here’s a knife. And you know the rules. I got a gun pointed right at Ben. You mess up and Ben gets it. You tie them up right."

Joe took the knife as his hands shook. His family would hate him for what he was doing. He did not deserve them. He had brought this man to them. He should have gone and settled it in Salt Lake. He had allowed their home to be defiled. Joe walked first to Hoss and knelt behind him. He took his brother’s strong hands and he held them together. He then used a knot to tie the rope the brother he was restraining had taught him. He knew it was strong and sure and Hoss could not undo it. He lingered a moment longer as he grabbed hold of Hoss’ hand. He held it a second, hoping Hoss would know.

Joe moved to Adam and took his hands. Adam felt cold to him and he wanted to ask his big brother if he was okay. He took the hands once more and moved them together. Using the same knot he had on Hoss he tied the hands. Again he lingered as he squeezed Adam’s hand. He said very quietly, "It’s okay, Adam. It was meant to be. I told you that a while back."

Joe then moved to his father and stopped. How could he tie up the man who had raised him? He believed he was now performing some form of sacrilege. Sons did not do this to loving fathers. Joe heard the gun cock and quickly moved his father’s hands together. He shook as he tried to tie the hands and he struggled to do as he knew he had to. As Joe pulled the ropes tight, Ben heard a low moan. His son was in agony as he tried to comply with the Stranger’s wishes. It was Ben who grabbed hold of Joe’s hands and squeezed. Joe heard his father say, "Joseph, you are my son. You will always be mine."

The shaking increased as Joe stood. He put his hand on his father’s shoulder, never wanting to release it. He heard the Stranger call him back, but his eyes fell to the body on the floor. There was blood. So much blood. Was this what was in store for his family? He could not move as he realized he had made each of them as vulnerable as Hop Sing. "No! Oh, NO!" Joe looked over his family members as his panic grew. He then quickly turned back to Hop Sing. They were all dead because of him. He knew that would be the fate. Joe could not stop the reaction he was having. The agony of what he was enduring overwhelmed as he started to shake his head no. His moaning increased as he fell to his knees. It was too much to hold as his mind was in full assault. Images past and present blurred, as the rush hit hard. He could do nothing to move as he thought he had set them up for slaughter.

The Stranger watched as his protégé collapsed. The kid still had feelings for the family who had spawned him. Well that must be addressed and he must be rid of them. "Pretty Boy! Come here! Come here now!"

Joe could not move as the panic overwhelmed. He kept his head down hoping there would be a bullet and then peace. He felt his arm jerked as he was once more dragged to his feet. "Pretty Boy, you defy me. You make me angry." The slap was not felt as Joe looked to his loved ones. "I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!" Joe screamed as he struggled to maintain a grasp on his panic. Again a slap and Joe looked at his father. "Pa, I didn’t want to give in. I didn’t! Pa I…" With that Joe felt the stranger’s hand over his mouth, but this time his nose was covered as well. He smelled a strange smell as he struggled to breathe. Then there was nothing.

The Stranger dropped Joe’s body to the floor. He had experienced enough. He wanted the kid to himself; the drama was beginning to grow tiresome. He looked at the ones who sat around the table. He had planned for the kid to shoot them, but it was not to be this time. There would be another time though. He felt it. The kid would rid himself of this shameful family. He was tempted to do it himself, but knew it was the kid’s to do.

The Cartwrights watched Joe’s agony. They were medicated and senses were dull as they saw Joe’s torture, but each cried out for their loved one. Adam had been trying to stay focused and not pass out. As he watched his little brother every fiber of his being cried out to take his place. Hoss wanted to snap the man’s neck at that moment. He saw Joe crumpled in a heap and he wanted the man dead. Ben looked at his youngest son and every fear he held for his boy prior to this night meant nothing. "Joseph! My Joseph! He’s my son! He’s my boy!" Ben could no longer remain silent.

The Stranger moved to Ben and sneered. "No old man, you’re wrong about that. He became mine the first time I saw him. I own him. I own his soul. Ask your other boys if that isn’t right. You leave him be old man. You leave him be or I’ll hurt him in ways you have never dreamed of. You think he hurt before. Just wait. I haven’t begun to hurt your Joseph!" The Stranger moved backed to Joe. He took the knife he had given Joe and as the three men watched the Stranger sliced open Joe’s forearm. "Gentlemen, see here. The kid bleeds."

The Stranger made certain that blood was flowing freely from Joe. "I will give you a reminder." The Stranger then dipped his fingers in the blood flowing from Joe’s arm. He walked behind each man and placed a smear of blood on each hand. "Now unless you want more of his blood on your hands you will not follow and you will not try and find him. I hope you know I am serious. Now Gentlemen, I bid you good night. It really has been a pleasure taking him from you." Remembering the book he had read, the Stranger knew to keep the body warm. He walked to the credenza and grabbed the first coat he touched. He wrapped it around the kid and then picked up Joe in his arms and carried him out the door. The Cartwrights could only watch and pray.

The Stranger had planned well and the escape was flawless. He threw an unconscious Joe over the saddle of a waiting horse, and was quickly aboard another as he rode out into the night. He needed to make ground between him and the ranch. He was not foolish enough to believe the family would simply let the kid go. He had hoped they would all be dead by now and out of his way and his plans, but since the kid had balked, and not done as he was told, the Stranger knew the family would soon follow.

The night air was crisp as the Stranger rode with his charge. He pushed as hard as he dared, hoping to make it to the place he had chosen as his classroom before morning. However, it proved a dark night and he had to slow his pace considerably. Joe was gone to the ether as the horses moved further away from the safety of home and family.

Eventually the Stranger had to stop as the horses were tired and Joe had let out a groan. The Stranger did not want the kid awake until he was ready and would not allow anything to change his plans. He dismounted and was quickly to his protégé. "Oh, no Pretty Boy, it’s back to sleep for you." He pulled Joe off the saddle and dumped him on the ground. He had placed the coat on Joe and that alone was Joe’s protection from the cool night air. As Joe stirred, the Stranger once more produced the ether. He dabbed some on a rag as he spoke, "Pretty Boy, I have no idea how much is too much. We shall see if you are strong enough to make it. You will not be awake until I decide it is time. I am in control of you. Yes, you will learn this very soon." Joe had not returned to full consciousness as he once more had a rag over his nose and mouth and was breathing in the sedating fumes. The Stranger removed the rag as he watched Joe’s head fall to the side. He remained seated watching to see if Joe remained breathing. Joe’s chest continued the rhythmic rise and fall so the Stranger left him to tend to other business. Joe lay unconscious, exposed and alone - the ones who loved him so very far away.
 

The men sat at the table their heads swimming both from being medicated and from the events that had occurred in the house. As the Stranger took Joe from them, they each felt a ripping down to their souls. The maniacal manner in which the Stranger performed his torture, the loathing and hate he displayed in response to the connection they felt towards one another, sent a terror through each of them. To imagine a man’s sole desire was to steal love from them; to steal a bond from them, to in fact steal a part of them was more than they could fathom. It was as if the man was cutting off a limb from each family member.

Each man tried struggle against the restraints that held him. However, Joe had done his job well and the three were hopelessly trapped. Ben sat staring at the place where he had last seen his son being carried away in the arms of a mad man. His son no more than the monster’s possession. "Joseph!" Ben repeated over and over, the shock of his child being torn from him still resounding inside of him.

Adam was fighting the ropes and the pull to pass out. He was feeling the effects of the drug the most of the three and was chastising himself for his groggy condition. "Pa, we can get Joe. We’ll get him back. We will." Adam tried to comfort. He had no idea if he was trying to convince himself or his father Joe was not lost to them. He made a vow to his little brother as he sat unable to stop the miles that were being placed between himself and Joe. "I’ll do it for you Joe. I’ll get you back. You won’t be lost to us forever. It can’t happen like this."

Hoss was furious, even with the sedation. He struggled with the bonds, but found himself very weak. To watch Joe taken left Hoss with such feelings of failure. He again felt his role as protector within the family, especially with Joe. This man, this devil, had proved more powerful and had taken his little brother. The man would pay, Hoss vowed. His thoughts although muddled turned to how he had found Joseph in the cellar and he wanted to cry out. Joe could not endure the torture again. He had been so close to death before and Hoss feared his little brother would not fight as he had previous. He knew it had taken everything within Joe to hold on before, and as the weeks had passed and Hoss had seen the damage from that previous encounter, he saw Joe was more vulnerable than before. He knew his brother had much more despair and fear within him. His own nightmare would be that Joe would give up.

There was no comprehension of the passing of time in minutes, only the understanding Joe was being taken further away from them the longer they stayed tied. A groan was heard and the men looked to the kitchen hallway. Each had not allowed himself to think of the death of Hop Sing. It would be too much to have to hold but then they heard the groan; a spark of hope was ignited. "Hop Sing! Hop Sing! Are you there? Can you hear me?" Ben cried out.

The men heard the groaning increasing and each called out. As they looked to where the noise originated they saw a hand grab the corner of the wall and Hop Sing pull himself up. There was blood on his shoulder and he looked very pale. He had no idea what had happened to him, but the pain was intense. He saw his family tied up in chairs around the table. It was all so confusing.

"Hop Sing! Thank God you’re alive! Can you help us? We need your help. You’ve got to get me untied. Please, hurry!" Ben begged.

Hop Sing moved slowly, as he was weak from blood loss. He pulled himself around to where Ben sat and saw the ropes tied so tight. Ben’s hands had lost circulation as he had sat the hours waiting to be freed. Hop Sing moved very slowly as he felt his the pain radiate through him. He was able to take the knife from Ben’s place setting and begin to work on the rope.

Ben found himself impatient as he waited for the cook to free him. His thoughts were of his son and how far of a head start the man had gotten on them. He could not stop returning to the expression on Joe’s face. His son felt agony as he was ripped away. With Joe’s screaming apology Ben knew Joe held himself responsible. It scared him what Joe might do in that frame of thinking.

As Hop Sing cut the ropes Ben also pulled. Suddenly he felt freedom as the restraints fell to the floor. He was then quick to Adam and Hoss, cutting each one free. "Come on over here, Hop Sing. Lie down on the sofa and let me take a look." Ben commanded.

Adam tried to move and felt queasy. He had to sit still with his head down as nausea soon overtook him. Hoss was very weak but was trying to make it to the door when he heard his father call out. "Hoss, no! We’ve got to get a doctor for Hop Sing and we may need one as well. We need to make a plan as to how best to proceed. Joe’s life is in jeopardy. You heard him threaten Joseph, if we tried to intervene. We have to be smart about this."

"PA, he’s gonna hurt Joe! He already has! You saw what he was doin’ to him! We gotta go stop him!" Hoss was feeling his own panic rise as his father tried to stop him.

"HOSS! We have to do this carefully! Run to the bunkhouse, get someone to the doc’s and get Roy out here! Then you come back in here and help Adam! Do as I say now!" It felt as if every thing was moving in slow motion. Nothing seemed real as Ben helped his cook off with his tunic. He ran to the kitchen to gather some bandages and medicine to tend to Hop Sing. He saw Adam slumped head down and called out, "Adam, son, you okay?"

"Yeah, just feel real sick. I’m gonna stay here a few minutes. Pa, this is my fault. I kept this all from you."

"Not now Adam, not now. Let me tend to Hop Sing. The wound looks serious. You stay there and Hoss’ll be right back."

Hoss soon returned and went to help Adam. Adam asked to be moved over near his father and Hop Sing so he could try and assist in any way he could. The men sat in virtual silence as they began the wait for help to arrive. Ben wanted desperatly to go and claim back his son, but knew to try and follow at night would be an exercise in futility. None of them were feeling well, but that alone would not have stopped him. It was his fear that they might destroy any evidence of a trail inadvertently in the darkness.

As time passed slowly, the waiting allowed the effects of the sedation to begin to wear off. Adam was able to lift his head without feeling as if he would be ill. He had a splitting headache but was relieved the nausea had passed. He watched his father work on Hop Sing as his guilt and fear built. He had known of the monster that had taken his baby brother and had kept his father in the dark. He saw the pain his father was in unable to rescue his child. How could he have been so stupid? He asked himself. "Pa, we need to talk." Adam approached the subject once more.

"NOT NOW!" Ben barked back. He could not hear what his son had to tell him. He had reviewed what the man had said to them. Adam and Hoss had known of this demon. Why had he not been told? Why had they taken away his role as a father? He was so very angry and knew he would have to watch what he said very carefully.

"Yeah Pa, now! I didn’t think this would happen. Joe took a long time to tell me and then he was so messed up about all of it I just was trying to help him. I didn’t know."

Ben snapped. All he could think of was his fear for his youngest child as he lost control. "YOU HAD NO RIGHT! NEITHER OF YOU DID! JOSEPH IS MY SON! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU I AM THE PARENT! I AM HIS FATHER! I MAKE THE DECISIONS! GOOD GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

"I don’t know, Pa. I messed up really bad and I know it. I’m sorry. Joe was so messed up in his head. He was so afraid he had gone bad because of what that man had done to him, and after seeing the stuff he was doing I just wanted to get him right..."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT HE WAS DOING? WHAT’S WRONG WITH JOSEPH?"

Adam held his gaze on his hands as he told his father what had happened to Joe the previous weeks. He told of the meadow, the brothel, the attack on Hop Sing and the loft. He finished by telling his father what had occurred in the saloon. Ben turned away from Adam trying to keep himself under control. As he heard of each ordeal his fear and pain for his youngest increased. He spoke in his head as he listened to Adam. "Oh my boy. Joseph, son, you’ve been hurting so. Why didn’t I see it? Why did I want to believe it was all over? I promised you I’d be there. Oh son! Please God let me find him. Keep him safe. Please!" Ben could not speak for a few moments as he tried to gather himself.

Heavy silence hung in the room as Ben kept his back to his son. He wanted to shake Adam for what he had done. His fury took over once more. "WHY! WHY ADAM!" Ben turned to look at his oldest once more. "WHY WOULD YOU KEEP THIS FROM ME! WHAT DID YOU THINK I WOULD DO TO JOSEPH! YOU THINK YOU CAN HELP HIM BETTER THAN ME! YOU FIND ME INCOMPETENT AS A FATHER!"

Adam flinched at the words he heard. He realized how this looked to the man who had raised him. "No Pa! I was trying to protect Joe and protect you! I know you have done a great job of raising us! I didn’t mean to take your place! That wasn’t what I was trying to do at all! I know you are Joe’s father! I would never take that away from you!" As he spoke the words he knew this is indeed what he had done. "Oh God, Pa, I was trying to fix it. I was trying to make it up to Joe. I was trying to make it up to you."

"Make what up? What are you talking about?"

"Joe was hurt because of me. Joe is, uh… Joe has changed cause of me. I wanted to get our Joe back. I wanted to give him back to you Pa. I was trying to help him get better so we could all go on and not have my decision to go after Baxter hurting us anymore. Pa, God! I never meant for any of this."

Ben listened to his oldest explain and his heart broke once more. His boys were being so damaged by Cyrus Baxter. The man was reaching out from the grave wreaking havoc on his family to this very day. Ben cursed the man and then looked to Adam. "Adam, I cannot tell you I am happy with what you did. Son, you made some serious mistakes, very serious mistakes. I understand why you did it. But Adam, didn’t you realize no one blamed you for this. No one did except you. I told you what Joseph needed. I told you back in Reno. You did what was right with Baxter. I told you that. I did not need you to hide Joseph’s pain from me to protect me. I needed to be there for him."

"I know that now. I do. Pa, I’m so sorry. It’s all I can say to you. This should not be happening. Joe needed you. I knew that this afternoon in the saloon when he called out for you. I should have known it sooner. I let my feelings blind me to what Joe needed. I’d trade places with him in an instant if I could Pa. I don’t know what else to say."

Hearing that Joe had called for him and he had not been there tore at Ben. "Joseph, hang on. I’ll be there. I promise I will find you son. You are my boy and I’ll never rest ‘til you are safe with me." Ben said to his son, "Adam, we need to form a plan to get Joe back. It is all we can do now. We have to get him away from that…" Ben thought of how he saw his son treated and felt ill.

The men tended to Hop Sing as they waited for the doctor and Roy Coffee. Each held the desire to run out the door to find Joe, but each knew they had to wait. Each also prayed for the safety of the youngest Cartwright as they recalled the horror of the man who now held his life.
 

The Stranger once more loaded Joe up on a horse well before morning and was soon on his way. He rode hard to his destination as he thought of his plans for the kid. He would look back from time to time to the trailing horse. Over the saddle was his prize. He had found and claimed his choice for a son. The kid never moved as he was carried through the night. As he rode, the Stranger fantasized of future rides with his new son after a job had been completed, and they traveled together to a new destination. It made him excited for what lay ahead. He would be the teacher, revered for his knowledge and admired for his ability. Dawn turned to daylight as the Stranger reached his destination. He had chosen the place those many weeks before as the original meeting place for the kid and himself. His plans had to be altered when the kid’s horse had thrown a shoe in town and the location had to be moved. He had liked this place much better. If the kid screamed or tried to get away, there was no one and nothing to help him. The kid would have to submit or die. It was that simple.

He carried his student into the mine and disposed of him on the cold floor. He lit the lanterns he had placed within the confines and pulled out the sack of supplies he had carefully deposited several days prior. It had the basics for survival, as well as what he was now hunting for - something that would keep his student subdued. He easily located the handcuffs and ropes. He thought, "Oh it would not do to have you run around free Pretty Boy. You should be used to these. I’m sure they bring back memories." With that the Stranger cuffed the hands of an unconscious Joe, as well as tied his feet. His victim was gone to the world as the ether took him away from the agony of what had occurred at the Ponderosa. It also kept Joe from the fear of what was yet to happen with the Stranger. He slept medicated in a dreamless state, which was welcomed. His mind wanted nothing of the Stranger and what he instinctively knew awaited him. He slept hard, away from all of it as he fought the return to hell.

The Stranger sat back, waiting for his son’s full return to his clutches. He watched the sleeping form and longed for it to awake. He eventually poked Joe several times hoping it would revive him, but Joe remained oblivious, as his mind fought back. Finally the Stranger knew he had to leave to gather more necessities, as he had needed several things to make himself more comfortable. Before leaving, he pulled out his knife and walked to his protégé. He bent down and watched his sleeping student, so anxious for him to wake. He soon decided what would be his next move and cut a curl of hair from Joe’s head. After he had taken the lock, he sat back looking at the one he had chosen. "Wake up Pretty Boy! Wake up so you can learn the lessons you have been waiting for. I will teach them to you. I will teach you so much." The Stranger waited a while longer, hoping for Joe’s awakening, but as time passed and he knew he had to travel to town, he reluctantly left, disgusted his student still lay asleep.

Joe lay medicated for much of the day; his mind somehow knowing to wake would mean more pain. He fought the draw to find out why he was cold as long as he could. Somehow he knew it would be bad as he lay trying to understand. His head throbbed as he returned to his life, and he struggled to understand why he was restrained. He suddenly felt sick as the sedation took its toll. He felt horribly ill, unable to remember what had happened last. He was soon sick again as the medication moved through him. The headache he felt was like no other as it punished him for another’s actions.

He held his head down as the room spun and his stomach revolted. The air was damp and musty and he felt a cold move through him. He tried to gather the coat he wore around him, but soon felt the pull of the handcuffs against the post. He looked to his hands and the despair swept through him. There had been those weeks of freedom in between, the weeks for him to recover from the previous assault, but now he was there again. He had fought to live, only to return to hurt and pain. It was hard to think as the ether numbed his mind. His thoughts slowly returned to his home and family and the agony was there once more. His thoughts were heavy as he remembered having restrained the ones he loved. "They’re dead. I did it to them. There dead ‘cause of me. Hop Sing, I’m so sorry. Pa, oh God Pa! What have I done? Adam, Hoss I warned you. I warned you. You shouldn’t a helped me. I’m so sorry!" Joe looked around where he was being held. The light was dim and the only noise was his heart beating. He was alone in silence and the pain washed over him. "Why? Why is he doing this to me? Why take me from my family? Oh God! Let me go with them! Please!"

Joe lay where he had been placed, trying to make his mind understand evil and madness. He believed he was now alone to face the Stranger and knew he was weak. The fear in him was enormous as he realized that for the first time in his life, he would face things totally alone. He would be with the knowledge his family was not there for him. He could run from his home before, but it was his choice to do so. Now they were gone, taken from him and he was left with evil. He doubted he could stand strong and face the one who had made it all so bad. His head throbbed and the sickness came and went as depression set in. He knew he needed his family, at this time more than any other but they were gone and he was left. He was left to end it with the Stranger. He had no one now, and he was unsure if he would go to those he loved or try to make the one responsible pay. "Pa? What should I do?" Joe asked to no one. He felt so very alone as he lay in the dark to wait.

He heard the noise of someone approaching as he tried to gather his resolve. He knew who it would be and a shiver traveled down his spine. He waited to see the eyes, the coldness, and the evil, as he lay trying to ease his head. Joe was afraid of the man, he would not kid himself and say he was not. He feared the power the man held and how he would show it. If his family was dead, Joe wanted to be with them, but how this man would release his life terrified him. The Stranger was soon in front of him. Joe saw him smile, seeming to be pleased about something. "Ah Pretty Boy. You finally wake up. I was beginning to wonder if I had used too much of that stuff. You seem to be having a bad time. What’s wrong with you? You look under the weather. Awe, poor baby."

Joe could not help but compare the differences between his father and this man. He remembered the times when he was very sick and his father had sat up with him, helping him through the crisis. This man would not do that. This man would mock him and make him feel weak. Joe felt terrible and he was vulnerable. He had no response to the man and his gut said he was doing something that would be unacceptable by not answering. He braced himself for the blow and was correct in its anticipation.

"Listen here Pretty Boy, I’m the one who holds your life. You need to remember that. Your weakness before will no longer be tolerated. You have shown you are pathetic. I don’t want to have to see that again. You were so weak! I almost killed you then. Maybe I should have! You felt bad for them? For the ones who have made my job so much harder! You’re pathetic if you care for them Pretty Boy. They’ve hurt you. They stifled your growth. They coddled you when you should be strong. They should pay for your struggle!" With that the Stranger let loose again slapping Joe hard across the face and then continued the tirade. "You should’ve not been so weak! You were supposed to kill them. You are a disgrace to me Pretty Boy. A Disgrace! I thought you were made of much better stuff than what you’ve showed me. Falling down like that - sniveling and whining. How can you even hold your head up and think you’re a man? That’s not a man. A man never shows weakness, never shows where he’s vulnerable. You’re vulnerable because you have too many attachments. You think these other people are important to you? You think you need them? You don’t need them. You only need me. I am your world now. I will make you into what you need to be. You will do it. Do you hear me? I’m not playing around with you. It is time I see what is really there inside you."

The Stranger’s verbal assault continued and Joe was left only to listen. His stomach churned and his head throbbed as he heard the words, which made no sense to him. Why? He wanted to ask why. Why was this man doing this to him? What was the reason? What had happened in the last encounter that kept them bonded? What was it that made Joe so full of rage and bitterness that he saw himself as the Stranger saw him. Joe watched the man pacing as he wished for his family. He wanted to be like them, not this mad man. What he saw terrified and repulsed him. This man was everything his family was not. It ran counter to the way he had been raised. But this man saw he had in him the same traits; the same characteristics as him. Did he?

Joe again was thrown into the attempt to understand. Was he bad? Was there something in him different than his brothers, different than his father? The only difference was his mother and he had known she was not bad. He could never see her as bad. She was sunny days and sweet kisses. She was laughter and joy and the loving comfort given to a scraped knee. No, she was not the root to his badness. He had resolved to himself she was strong and passionate and did what she needed to do. She had saved him by her own strength. She flowed through his veins and he would never see her as anything other than strength and love. He knew he had come from good.

He thought over what Hop Sing had told him the night of the attack. He recalled his friend’s appraisal of his parents and he agreed. His mother was everything good to him and his father was his world. It did not come from them. It came from this man in front of him. This man was evil. He listened to the tirade and he grew fearful. This man had placed such terror and rage in him, what more would he do? Was he more aligned with this man now than his own family. Had he been corrupted?

Hop Sing. Joe’s mind returned to his friend. "I am so sorry, Hop Sing. I didn’t know he’d do this. I didn’t. I wouldn’t a let him hurt you. I never meant any of it. Hop Sing can you forgive me?" Joe did not realize that by being lost in his own thoughts he was ignoring the Stranger. He had been asked a question and he had not heard it. This sent the Stranger into a rage. Joe soon felt hands around his throat as he was attacked.

The Stranger expected a struggle and all he got from his protégé was a limp body. It enraged him further. "How dare you! You won’t give up like this! You won’t! I have given too much to this reunion! You will fight and you will do as I want!" The Stranger closed his hands tight on Joe’s throat and Joe came close to surrender. He wanted it over. The thought of being in this man’s grasp was repulsive. He had changed and the evil he saw before him had infected him. He wanted death to take him. He would die having not totally surrendered. He would not give the Stranger his soul.

"Damn you! You’re weak! You’re a disgrace! THEY RUINED YOU! YOU ARE NO GOOD! NO GOOD!" The Stranger glared at him as he tried to contain the desire to kill the kid. Joe waited for the end to come, knowing he would leave the world hearing the ranting of a mad man and having his last thoughts be of hate.

The Stranger stopped suddenly, and walked away from his captive. Joe lay gasping for breath as he watched the man move to a saddlebag and rummage through the contents. What was then removed was so familiar - a most prized possession. The Stranger moved back over to Joe and knelt next to him. He held out the picture and watched Joe’s face. He got the desired reaction.

Joe rapidly moved from despair to rage. He was looking at the picture that sat by his bed. The picture he talked to when things were confusing and cried to when he was beyond trying to understand and there was only hurt. This man, this bastard had his mother’s picture. "Ah, Pretty Boy. Another of your attachments I see. She’s pretty. She’s the reason you’re pretty? Where is she anyway? I think I’d like a go at her!" The Stranger smiled, as he knew his bait had worked and his student was ready to interact with him once more.

Joe could not contain the rage he felt. "You sick coward!" Joe started to fight back as all of the rage and fear exploded in him.

Joe was slapped again, as the Stranger could not help but react to Joe’s insult. The man knelt very close to Joe’s head as he sneered, "You will watch that mouth of yours if you know what’s good for you. You’ll say you’re sorry for that little outburst."

Having his mother brought into the dance was too much. Joe could not allow this man to defile her. "You go to hell!"

"That’s it Pretty Boy. You’re gonna mess around with me and get yourself killed. You need to know I tolerate your disobedience poorly. You stop it and we’ll get along right fine." While the Stranger spoke, he once more locked his fingers on the throat of his student. Joe soon was lightheaded as he both struggled to breathe and struggled with the Stranger. He felt his hate and refused to give up his life to this man without a fight. This man, this demon may watch him surrender, but Joe vowed he would only see courage and fight. Joe would hold the other. The fear of evil - the fear of what would become of him should he die. His mind tried to panic, tried to make him submit to the man, but he would not allow it. He would make the man kill him if that was what it took to win. He would not submit. He would not. The last Joe saw before darkness took him was the grin of the devil.

The return was slow and the Stranger waited. He hated the wait and would make sure the kid knew of his displeasure. He enjoyed the last exchange, seeing the fire that remained in his student. He sat staring at the picture that had made the kid react. "Pretty lady, are you responsible for the kid’s fight? Are you adequate breeding stock to turn out my son? Are you the mother to greatness?" He laughed aloud as he asked his questions. The father of the kid was unworthy. Was the mother as well? The Stranger reasoned that someone was responsible for the kid’s spirit. It had to be this woman. She had born him his son. He looked at the picture and then smiled. He pulled it close and kissed it. She was worthy of him as well.

Joe groaned as he felt the soreness in his throat. He knew he did not want to open his eyes and hoped that he could convince the Stranger he was still unconscious. He was successful for a short while as he lay thinking of his fate. He wanted revenge for his family. They deserved to have this man pay for this crime. No one knew of this demon but him, and he knew if there were to be justice he would have to dole it out. He wanted to live to take the man’s life. He would have that for his family and then whatever fate held for him afterward, he would accept. He felt a kick to his side, as he knew he could enjoy the intermission from the dance no longer. He was being called back once more to continue the steps.

Joe opened his eyes and was immediately greeted by dead eyes. The two looked at each other, as they knew there was much more to go through together. The Stranger grinned, "Pretty Boy, you’re back I see. You know you still owe me that apology. Let’s hear it."

"I owe you nothing!" Joe spat back. He saw the man still held the picture of his mother and the revulsion grew. In defending his mother, Joe knew no limits. He had fought in school over insults or perceived slander of her name. He would risk everything to protect a woman who was more fantasy than real. She was part of him, as it was with his father, Hoss or Adam, but she lived on in his head in the memories and beliefs he held of her. She was sacred.

The laughter grew from the Stranger as he witnessed Joe’s devotion. He saw the kid could attach and worship another. It was this woman now but it would be him soon. The ideas of such respect a powerful draw. But he must not let the kid see his own weakness - his love of devotion and power. No the kid must only see where he erred and immediately correct the fault. "Pretty Boy, do you want a reminder of my power? Do you need to feel pain? I’m beginning to think you like this. Do you like it Pretty Boy? You like me to hurt you?" The Stranger grabbed hold of Joe’s hair and pulled it so Joe was looking him in the eye. He sat on Joe’s legs as he made his move. He let loose a punch to Joe’s stomach, but held his head and restrained his legs, so Joe could not do what was instinctive. He could not curl in and comfort himself at all. The Stranger punched once again and Joe lost his wind. "Oh no Pretty Boy, you can’t breathe? You should be used to that feeling. You remember before? You remember how hard it was to breathe? You remember trying to pull the air in you? You remember don’t you Pretty Boy? I see in your eyes you remember."

There were flashes but Joe grabbed the cuff of the coat he wore. He tried to move his head so he could smell the smell. It would keep him there in the room if he could just focus on the coat. The coat had helped before when it was bad. It had helped in the loft. It was Adam’s coat and Joe realized how desperately he needed it to help him hold on. The coat meant they were near and they loved him. It meant they were protecting and watching for the bad; they were holding the wolves at bay that threatened to take his mind. "Oh stay with me please!" Joe begged in his mind, he said, "I remember. You didn’t win then you won’t win now."

"Oh but I let you go Pretty Boy. I could have killed fat boy quite easily, but I saw this as much more fun. Don’t you think it’s fun? Tell me true. Aren’t you having fun? Haven’t you just waited for us to meet once more? You’ve wanted this! I know it!"

"Why are you doing this? Why? You don’t need anything from me anymore. Baxter’s dead. What do you want?" Joe held fast to the coat as he challenged the man.

The Stranger punched Joe hard again, "You were not asked if you had a question Pretty Boy. You have got to be the dumbest person alive. Do you not understand what I tell you?"

Joe tried to continue to breathe slow breaths as the pain radiated. He lay, looking up at the man as he tried to understand what it was this man wanted. He wanted a son? A son? Joe found it so hard to believe. This man who had hurt him so was now saying they would be father and son. Father and son… Father… Joe’s mind once more drifted to the man worthy of that title. Father. His Pa. "Pa, I need your help. I did it again and this time it got you killed. I didn’t tell you what was in my head and it killed you. It killed all of you. Pa! I need you now! What I would give to change it. I’ll kill him. I’ll do it for you all."

"Now Pretty Boy, about that apology. I’m still waiting."

Joe braced himself as he knew what would come next, "You’ll be waiting forever! I’ll never apologize to you! Go to hell!"

A laugh rang out as the Stranger looked down on him, "Oh yes Pretty Boy you will apologize. You continue to miss the idea here. You are the one without power. You are the one in my control. You do nothing without my permission, without my direction. Why do you insist on fighting the bit? You know what they do to horses that refuse to be broke? You want that as well? Tell you what. I’m going to give you some time to think about your decision. Perhaps you responded in haste and would like to reconsider your position. See I am a fair man. I’ll let you have some time."

Joe grew concerned the more the man talked. He feared what was next as knew all to well that the Stranger had nothing but malevolence for him. He had to think of the best way to handle the situation, but his fear and rage were in conflict. It was hard to control his impulse to push back. "You can give me all the time in the world and it won’t matter. You’ll get nothing from me."

"We’ll see about that one. We’ll see how much you can stand. Okay, here is what is going to happen. I am going to undo those handcuffs once more and as before, I am warning you don’t move. You move you hurt, and as an added incentive, lookie here. See this gun? You know this gun well don’t you? Well if you don’t do as I say when I say it, then I will shoot you. Oh, but you won’t die, Pretty Boy, at least not immediately. You will suffer a great long while before it would actually kill you. A gut shot is a bad way to go I’d say. You understand?"

"Should I let him kill me? Should I just surrender? What should I do?" Joe asked himself the questions once more. His hatred of the Stranger was the response he gave himself. "No, I’ll kill him. I’ll best him and kill him. I want you dead!" Joe said to the Stranger, "I understand."

The Stranger undid the cuffs and untied Joe’s feet as Joe lay perfectly still. Joe knew he was walking a very thin line where his reactions would help or harm him in the dance. He wanted to never submit, but knew he had to avoid enraging the man to the point he was killed before he could kill. He needed to avoid injury if he could so when the time was right he could kill this devil. Joe fought to control the rage in him as he fantasized attacking the man. "It’ll feel so good to kill you. Better than anything else I can imagine." Joe thought, as his eyes never left the man.

"Stand up, slowly." The Stranger gave the command as he stepped back and away from his prisoner.

Joe did as commanded careful never to let down his guard. His eyes continually moving to try and predict where any attack might stem. As he returned to his feet he fleetingly thought to just run. Run and let the bullet hit him in the back. It would take him out of the dance and he would join the family he loved. As he played the scenario in his mind he felt a shove forward. "Get going. Walk until I say stop."

The Stranger led Joe further down into the mineshaft twisting and turning through the tunnels, the only light dim from the torch the Stranger carried. As they traveled, the air grew thick and damp. It was quiet except for dripping water and the occasional scurry of an animal. Joe finally heard the command, "Stop."

The men were at the end of a tunnel, Joe having gotten confused as to where they had traveled. He knew they had been headed deeper into the mountain, but the changes in direction had been several and his concentration on trying to watch where he stepped had made him less attentive. He scanned where he now stood. The area was more open than many of the tunnels they had moved through and it was obvious the Stranger had set this place up to be part of the scenario.

Joe stood not moving, waiting for the next order. He did not have long to wait. "Okay Pretty Boy, I learned a thing or two. People are much more willing to work with me when they are uncomfortable. Not sure why that is. I would think you’d just figure out I’m going to win and just be done with it, but so be it. Now you are just too comfy for my liking. We’ll let you sit and ponder the error of your ways and see if you’re not willing to change your feeble mind. So in that vein, off with the coat. Come on, give it here."

The words sent terror through Joe. The coat was a bond, a connection to safety. This man wanted everything from him. No, he would not do it. Joe stood defiantly before the man and did not move. He squared his shoulders and waited for the encounter.

The back of the Stranger’s hand hit Joe squarely across the face. Joe’s head reeled back as he took the blow. He returned to look into the eyes of evil. The Stranger scolded, "Defy me will you? Take off the coat. Do it now."

Joe continued to hold his ground, as in his head he was screaming in agony. He could not give this man the coat. It held his sanity. How did this man know how to strip his every defense? How did he know where he was vulnerable? Joe did not move.

The Stranger was quickly on him. Joe was slammed against the wall of the tunnel as the Stranger placed his forearm across Joe’s throat. He began pulling at the coat with the other as Joe struggled and fought back. The two men were locked in fierce battle, as the Stranger demanded submission and Joe fought for his hold to everything good. "NO! NO! YOU CAN’T HAVE IT!" Joe screamed as he felt another blow.

He struggled, punched and fought for the coat, but Joe’s size was no match for the Stranger. He would lose the battle, as the Stranger gained the upper hand and showed his complete domination by stripping the coat from him. Joe slid down the wall of the shaft trying to gather his mind and his breath as the Stranger moved away from him and looked on him with disgust. "Now that was truly pathetic. When are you going to learn? You will lose every battle. EVERY BATTLE! Get up here." The Stranger did not bother to wait for Joe to move, rather he yanked Joe to his feet by the arm and slammed him back against the wall. "Pretty Boy, You will hang around here thinking of your transgressions. You will confess your sins to me when I return and we will go forward from there. You do need some time to concentrate on what will please me. Hold out your hands."

Joe responded. His eyes still on the coat that lay on the ground several feet from him. The Stranger placed the cuff around one wrist and then told Joe words he had heard before, "Reach up." Joe once more did as he was told. The past and the present laying on top of each other in his mind. He began to wonder if he had ever left the cellar, if this were still not the first encounter and he had only gone home and to his family in his head. Had he never left this man’s clutches?

The Stranger moved to where his face was inches from Joe’s. He pulled Joe’s head back by his hair forcing Joe to look at him. "Okay Pretty Boy, I am going to go and have some drinks, a fine meal and maybe even indulge myself with a saloon whore. You on the other hand will stay here and think of how you can behave. When I return, if I even bother to return, I expect certain things from you. I expect an apology. I expect respect and I expect you to be ready to learn. I’m done playing with you. This wastes precious time and I have more things to do than mess with your foolishness. I would advise you to straighten up." The Stranger patted Joe hard on the cheek, and then walked away down the tunnel. As Joe watched the light leave, he kept his eye on the coat until the light was gone and he was alone in the dark.
 

It was all they could do to wait for first light to begin the search for Joe. The doctor and Roy had arrived before sun up and they went about caring for the fallen cook and preparing a plan to get Joe from the clutches of the Stranger. Adam continued to feel overwhelming guilt as he watched his father’s torment. Ben struggled with remaining calm as every fear for his son’s life passed through his mind. He would attempt to reassure himself with his faith that Joe would be found and returned to him, but his mind would go to the time in Reno when he had watched his child’s suffering and had been helpless to do anything about it. The impotence brought a new surge of rage as he thought of the man attempting to tear away his most sacred possession – one of his sons. What kind of man does this to a family? What kind of man defiles the love found between parent and child? What kind of man tries to destroy what is good and right in the world? As he thought of the kind of man who would take pleasure in this act he winced. That kind of man had his son.

Hoss had busied himself by preparing the horses and gathering supplies. He would be on Chubb as soon as there was light enough to follow the tracks. Hoss knew his family relied on him to find the trace of where Joe had been taken. He was the best at tracking and vowed in his head, "Joe, I’ll find the way you were taken. I’ll get you the help you need little buddy." As Hoss prepared the horses he looked to Cochise. He walked over and scratched between her ears as he stood thinking of Joe. The pinto would not be going with them, for it was her master that was missing. "Cooch, we gotta get him home. We just gotta." Hoss rested his head for a moment on the neck of the animal as he fought back his fear. The images in the cellar returned full on to his mind and he began to cry for his little brother. He waited until the emotion passed before lifting his head. He once more rubbed the horse that was so much a reminder of Joe and then walked back into the house to tell the men inside he was going whether they would join him or not. The paint pony shifted restlessly in her stall as the big man left and the tears that had fallen on her coat left to dry with time.

Hoss did not have urge as the men were soon on their way to find any evidence of a trial to follow. Roy had decided to ride with the family and provide whatever assistance he could. The tracks from the house proved easy enough to decipher and the group made good time moving away from the ranch house. However, things proved more difficult as they reached rocky ground. It was apparent the man who had Joe had begun to cover his tracks as if toying with them. There would be evidence of two horses and then nothing as it appeared the animals had simply stopped moving. It was frustratingly slow to try and determine where next to look and tension mounted.

Adam kept in his head on the ride, trying to determine how he could have allowed everything to get away from him. He had done something he swore he would never do. He had allowed his emotion to rule his head. Why had he done it? What was it he could not come to terms with? It was his guilt. He knew it was the feeling of being responsible and his frustration at not being able to turn back time. He felt his frustration and disappointment at having believed in theory and concept. However, when the reality of his actions hit he was not the bearer of the consequences. It was not supposed to happen as it had. It was his decision to bring down the man and for that he was more than willing to endure Baxter’s wrath. But it had not been his to endure it had been another’s.

He had underestimated the malevolence in Baxter and now an even greater evil had moved in to take his place. Adam wanted the consequences to be on his shoulders alone. Not Joe’s, an innocent party in all the drama. As he rode he again wondered how he could right his own wrong. How could he redirect the scene such that he would be the one to take the place of his brother as he felt it should have been from the beginning? He made his decision. He would kill the evil that was haunting his little brother. He would not question or doubt. He had known what he had wanted to do after first seeing Joe in the doctor’s office those many weeks ago. He would have revenge and the man who had made Joe’s life hell would pay.
 

He stood alone in the dark with nothing but his own thoughts to occupy him. Joe felt the excruciating pain of being alone. It was the knife in his heart as he tried to keep those who loved him close. He had them in his head, but the terror made it hard to keep hold. His mind fought the memories of the cellar and the ripping away from his family. This man knew how to hurt. He knew where Joe was weak and capitalized on the knowledge. Thoughts and feelings rushed him and Joe was swept away in the current of memories. The position his body was in made it so easy to return to the previous encounter and the scenario played itself out. Joe shook from fear as well as cold. There was no one to help him, no words to talk him through the torrent of emotion and memory. He held tight as the assault pounded his mind. There was no escape until the dance played out. Every image, every thought brought fear. Joe cried out to no one as he wrestled the past and feared the future. He wanted to give up, to let his mind run the scene over and over until insanity took him and nothing mattered anymore.

It was hours of torment before Joe’s mind relented, and it was exhaustion that eventually stopped the onslaught. Joe wanted to collapse, to lie down and regroup his thoughts, but he knew he could not allow himself to sleep. He had to stay on his feet. It was the sound of footsteps that drew him wide-awake. The room remained dark and cold as the steps echoed. He waited for the light to reveal the identity of the steps, but there was nothing, only blackness. He heard the voice and knew he was there. "Pretty Boy, you ready to talk to me? You ready to give me what I want?"

"Leave me alone! I CAN’T DO IT! I CAN’T! NOT AGAIN! NO!"

"You need to know I am in complete control. You ever feel a whip kid? You ever have that experience?" The Stranger let go his wicked laugh. "It cuts when it hits you, you know. It tears away flesh."

"God no not again! Please no! I can’t! I CAN’T!" Joe was crying as he realized what his fate would be. "STOP HURTING ME!"

"You know how to make it stop, Pretty Boy. You know what I want. Now give it to me and it is all over. The hurt, the pain the fear the rage is gone if you give me what I want. You will be free. I will give you up. I will return you to your home."

Joe was hearing everything he wanted. He could have it over he could give up the agony. He could be released from this devil’s grasp. He wanted to be seduced by the offer of peace. He wanted the cold in him gone. It was all he could think of as he shouted, "I’LL TELL YOU! ANY THING YOU WANT I’LL TELL YOU! MAKE IT STOP… PLEASE GOD!"

"Tell me, Pretty Boy. Tell me what I want to know."

"HE’S IN THE LINE SHACK!" As the words left Joe’s mouth he realized what he had done. "OH NO! NO! I HAD TO MAKE IT STOP! I’M SORRY ADAM! I HAD TO MAKE IT STOP! I COULDN’T DO NO MORE! HE WON! I’M SORRY!"

Joe heard the laughter echoing through his head. The endless laughing of a mad man filled his thoughts as Joe wept for his act of betrayal. He had done what he vowed he would not do. He had given the Stranger his brother’s life. It was a torture worse than any physical pain as it carried him deeper into hell. "KILL ME!" He screamed the command but there was no response. "I WANNA BE DEAD! YOU PROMISED IT WOULD END! YOU PROMISED IT WAS OVER! KILL ME!"

Still no response as Joe thrashed about. He tried to make contact with the Stranger in the dark but there was nothing there. Nothing. He heard dripping water and his own gasping breaths but he was alone. There was no one. Joe moaned and sobbed as he tried to gather his mind. The Stranger was winning.

Joe tried to comfort himself by thinking of other times, the good times that made what he had with his family so valuable, but it was hard to find them in his thoughts. He would return to what he had done. He had told the Stranger the forbidden. His world had become consumed with the Stranger and it seemed that was where his mind wanted to stay. His mind wanted to give in.

He had to fight the draw to surrender. He needed revenge, not sadness. Sadness and fear made it too hard to hold, and the Stranger became the victor. He needed rage. He allowed his mind to fantasize the ending of the dance as he took the Stranger’s throat between his own hands and squeezed. He embraced the rage has he could all but feel the man’s struggle and fight. He did not realize his hands were in fists as he watched the image in his mind. He enjoyed the thought of the evil life leaving his world. He grabbed hold of the rage he felt as he thought of killing the man.

His fantasy brought forth a question. How could he gain the upper hand? It seemed that every move he made resulted in more pain and more fear. He needed the fear in control. As Joe hung in the dark his thoughts moved from terror and the desire to give in, to rage and the desire to kill.

He had no grasp of the passing of time as he stood in the blackness. He knew it had been hours, but would have been shocked to hear it had been a day. He found himself so tired but would not allow his body to submit. To sleep would take him off his feet. He could not afford for his arms to be made useless. They would be needed to kill. The thoughts of the Stranger’s death gave the only comfort, and Joe replayed scenarios over and over in his head. At one point he realized the Stranger was right. He was without power as he was without a weapon. How could he best this monster?

Power. It was obvious the Stranger liked power, and as Joe stood feeling his fatigue, he knew all too well the man held the power in every encounter. He had solved his fear of the Stranger with fantasies of shooting him or choking him dead. But it would not be possible to act out the fantasy as the situation now stood. Joe had no power, and as each time his mind returned to this fact he felt desperation, not rage. This man wanted him as his son. The revulsion at the idea was almost too much. He was Ben Cartwright’s son, and he would always be his child. His father had told him this even in those desperate hours at the ranch. He wanted to be his father’s son. It had always been something he took such pride in. He could not let the Stranger corrupt that relationship.

Too much thinking, and too much fear. He wanted nothing to do with the thoughts, but they continued in their harassment. "Stop thinking. Stop it." He scolded himself. "It’s not helping to think." There were no more answers. He had spent weeks on the problem and the answers stayed hidden. Were they hidden or impossible to find? He was unsure the answer. The fight against despair was difficult and he knew he had to think of something else. Something to distract. He made himself redirect his thinking as he focused on his everyday life. His life consisted of average living, he worked cattle, he tended a ranch, and he broke horses. He knew of these things and tried to make himself focus. He thought of cattle drives, but his mind soon went to his family, always with him during these events and he made himself change focus. The ranch too brought images of family and it hurt to think of it. So it would be breaking horses. That was something he knew how to do and excelled at. He thought of the powerful animals that he had ridden, having made them take the saddle and the bit without breaking their spirit. It was a fine line and a craft he had learned, make the horse think it was his idea. He thought of this and could escape a while as he broke horses in his thoughts.

He had run the subduing of horses over in his head many times until other words entered, and it clicked into place. Hop Sing had said it. The answer was in him and he just had to find it… It was the breaking of horses… that had given him the key… Make them think it’s their idea… Make them think… Horses don’t think… Out think them… Was it that simple? Were the lessons learned in every day life even applicable with madness? Could he take what he knew as a rancher’s son and apply it to craziness? Joe knew he could easily out-think a horse, but this man? If he underestimated the man, he would be killed. He knew that straight away. "It’s the chance I have and the chance I’ll take. I know what to do with an animal needing to be persuaded. Pa always said I had the gift of gab. Was it the same? Would it work? " Joe remained nervous and fearful as he questioned himself. If he was wrong, he was dead. He knew that was the only outcome for a mistake.

The quiet brought about the desire to let go, as Joe struggled to give in to temptation. He knew if he gave in to his desire, he would hang from his hands, give up the control and start it all once more. "Does it matter?" He asked himself. "Is all this for nothing?" The sound of someone coming stopped the questioning for a while. The music was starting and it was time to dance.

"Pretty Boy, there you are. Have a nice time?" The Stranger asked as he examined his charge. "You ready to submit? You ready to learn?"

Joe knew the next words were crucial and he paused. He had to say it right. He had to give what was wanted, but… he had to make it believable. He knew the dance had entered a rhythmic beat where steps were watched and graded. He had to be believed. "You want too much." Joe said, his voice soft.

"No Pretty Boy, just your soul. That’s not too much to give me. Now tell me. You sorry yet?"

"Sorry? I uh… nuh uh. I’m not."

The Stranger punched Joe hard but Joe had braced for the attack. He had to make it real and he had to endure the pain. He would have to let the dance get brutal in order to change the lead. "Pretty Boy, you have not learned. You need more schooling to know whose boss. You will hang there ‘til you submit. You remember it? You remember the pain. Perhaps a reminder is what you need? I think you like this. Why else would you do this to yourself?" The Stranger reached into his possessions and once more produced a whip. Joe’s head flooded with images as this demon threatened him once more.

What he meant to do in acting he did for real. His head so easily led to the memories and grief. Joe begged that he not be struck by the painful instrument. "No! No! Please, no!"

The Stranger grinned. "You don’t want this Pretty Boy? You want me to stop?"

"YES! STOP! NO MORE!"

The Stranger felt his power. "No more what? No more, sir?"

"No more, sir! Please no more!" A small voice answered.

"Ah… I’ve got your attention Pretty Boy. I’ve got you where I want you." The Stranger thought. "What do you want Pretty Boy? Tell me."

Joe was afraid and held back, but knew he could do this for only a short time. The Stranger grew impatient. "Leave me alone." Joe managed to say. He sounded as if he were begging, trying to be saved.

"Leave you alone? Are you trying to tell me what to do? Surely you wouldn’t do that would you Pretty Boy? You didn’t get more dumb on me hanging here?" As the stranger spoke he held up the whip. Joe’s heart raced, as he knew to be hit would drive him mad.

"Oh no! No! I didn’t mean it like that!" Joe thought. He knew he had to give a different response. His eye could not leave the whip, as he spoke to it rather than the man, "I meant don’t… please don’t… uh… you don’t have to uh… I’m sorry."

Again the slap. "You’re sorry what?"

"I’m… sorry… I called you… a coward."

"NO! You stupid idiot! I swear I have no idea why I tolerate you! The phrase is I’m sorry, sir. I’ m sorry SIR! You got it? You understand anything in that stupid head of yours? All you are is pretty ‘cause you have no brain."

Joe immediately responded, as he feared the whip. "I’m sorry, sir." As the words left his mouth, Joe felt pathetic. He was so afraid of the man’s ability to hurt him and his inability to protect. Once more the man had known what to do to send fear into his soul. "Get the advantage." He told himself. "Do what you have to do to win." Joe wanted to scream out in fear but made himself look at the man’s eyes. "What’s next?" He said, holding a terrified voice so very steady.

"Are you ready to learn? Are you over being stupid? No, I don’t think you are. You need to be taught a lesson." With that the Stranger walked behind Joe, the whip still in his hand.

Joe winced as he prepared. He could not stop the one thing that would allow the Stranger to win. He was losing. He felt it and thought, "I can’t do it. I can’t make it through this. I’m sorry Pa. He’ll win. Will you be there for me when I come to you? I’m afraid, Pa. I don’t want to die. I want to be with you but it’s scary to die. Will you help me do it Pa?" Joe closed his eyes as he braced himself for the Stranger’s wrath. He heard the whip crack and wanted to cry out. He bit his lip as he waited to feel the connection. Again there was the sound but again no slash. Joe kept his eyes closed, knowing the Stranger’s delay was part of his sadistic game. The agony of waiting to be hurt became too much as Joe cried out, "Just hit me!"

The Stranger let out a laugh. "You know, you’re really disturbed Pretty Boy. I do think you like all this. Begging to be hit. Tsk, tsk that’s pretty crazy." The Stranger dropped the whip but remained in place behind Joe. "You must be right proud of these here marks then. Got my brand on you, Pretty Boy." The Stranger began slowly tracing the marks on his victim’s back. He lingered as he touched Joe, enjoying the recall of their last encounter.

The contact made Joe cringe, his revulsion extreme. The feeling of this devil touching him, enjoying the pain he had inflicted, created contempt and fear. He tried not to move as his heart raced. He wanted to pull away, and fought hard to endure the connection. He began to breathe more rapidly as the Stranger prolonged the torture. "Yes Pretty Boy, I’ve thought of our last time together often. I’ve thought of you and the future we will share. You have so much to learn."

The Stranger’s voice, coupled with his touch was too much. Joe had to move away, to try and get the man to stop his current choice of dance. He was so very close to returning with the Stranger to the previous dance. He could not let his head go. He had to hold on. Joe moved in the only way he could. He pulled away from the man’s touch as a moan escape his lips. He could no longer endure this man’s remembrance.

The Stranger immediately reacted with rage at his victim’s defiance. How dare this inferior try to exert any type of resistance? How dare he think he has any power at all? "Don’t you move away from me! Get back here! NOW!"

Joe knew this was a test for his mind. Could he give himself back to the Stranger and withstand the connection? He had to do it to dance, but knew his mind would leave. It was too much to endure as he submitted and he felt himself go. He did what had become instinct to him, a way to hold onto reality. There was no coat to grab; no soothing words; no grass to feel. He reached up to the beam above him and grabbed hold. He felt the splinters of the rough wood dig into his skin. He used the pain to keep his head away from the man who loved nothing more than his agony.

The Stranger knew what he was doing would disturb his captive and it pleased him. He wished to be in the kid’s head and hear the screams. He admired his protégé’s ability to keep him from knowing his thoughts and he saw what he wanted his student to learn. The kid could keep it in. Now he needed to make it go cold. He knew that was where the power bloomed, in the dark, in the cold, and in the hate. The Stranger was repulsed by the kid’ emotions, all but the rage and devotion. But he wanted the rage and devotion to be hidden, not exposed. Exposure made you weak. It made you vulnerable. The kid had to learn this. He had to learn to let it harden. He had to learn to NEVER let the opponent know the secrets inside.

Joe’s head was gone, back to the cellar and the lashes, feeling the whip as he felt the touch. He grabbed tighter to the beam forcing the splinters to distract, forcing his pain to be real. "I can make it. Oh, God! I can do it!" He continued his thoughts and told himself his plan, "Easy Joe, easy. Get the rope around the horse’s head. Just get the rope on him. Be calm and hang on. Lure him in. Don’t move and let him settle down. Easy."

The Stranger only stopped his torment of Joe once he received no more reaction. He was impressed the kid could not respond and felt he had just passed his first lesson. He saw that the kid could let him lead and in the kid’s submission the Stranger grew in power. "Well now Pretty Boy, you ready to learn?"

A key was produced to the handcuffs but Joe did not see it. He felt the man moving behind him and then his wrist become freed. Again the same feeling and Joe’s arms dropped like lead. The Stranger had not spoken as he worked, but Joe knew not to move. He stood perfectly still as he felt the blood moving through his arms. He wanted to shake them but instead put his hands in fists and clenched them tight. He waited for the next instruction.

"Move over to the post and sit. No other movement will be tolerated. Do you understand?"

"Yes… sir." Joe had almost forgotten the title for the demon.

"Ah, almost got yourself smacked. You’re learning. Now move."

Joe did as instructed. He looked down the corridor, which would lead him to freedom. He made himself look away. The corridor was torture to focus on. It made him too hopeful, too willing to escape. It symbolized his desire to give in and die. He had to finish the dance. He had to allow the last song to be played and for the band to pack up and leave. He was now totally bonded to this man and the future between them. He had to watch the life leave the man’s body. He had to see the vengeance doled out. Either way the dance ended he had to know. Would this man pay for the deaths of the truly good? Would he pay for their lives and for his own? Would he get to pay the man for killing everyone he loved?

Joe walked slowly, his body sluggish from having stood still. It hurt to move and he was hoping to allow his body some recovery from the grueling hours he had endured standing before he had to move. The Stranger grew displeased at the pace and shoved Joe hard. Not expecting the attack, Joe pitched forward and fell. The Stranger was immediately upon him dragging him by the arm. "I swear you’re an idiot. Can’t even walk without falling. Why do I put up with you? I really should kill you and be done with it. You need to thank me for tolerating you."

The man dragged Joe to the post and threw him against it. Joe scampered and sat up, not wanting to be unprotected. He looked up just in time to feel the slap and bit hard on his lip. He made himself look the Stranger once more in the eye, knowing he had done something to anger the demon.

"Thank me for not killing you!"

"Thank you, sir." Came the quiet voice.

"Much better. I guess you just need the pain to keep you awake, huh? Bet you’re tired aren’t you, Pretty Boy?"

"Yes sir."

The Stranger smiled and patted Joe’s cheek hard. "That’s my boy." The man went about restraining Joe once more by cuffing his hands behind him around the post, and immediately retied his feet. Joe noticed he had stopped reacting to the man’s manipulations of him. He felt as if he was no longer in his body rather he was simply watching the events as a spectator. It allowed him to let the man touch him without pulling away so his mind did what it had to do to survive.

The Stranger sat directly across from Joe as he studied his student. He held a wicked grin as the dance had entered his most desired steps. It was time to impart his wisdom. It was time to create his son. "Now, Pretty Boy you will keep your eyes on me- only on me. You will listen and you will learn. You will say nothing but will answer when you are told to. You will be asked questions so you'd better be paying attention. This is your classroom, Pretty Boy. This is where you find greatness. This is where you take that hatred you have for me and you use it. You channel it and you grow strong. You have been too weak. You have been a waste until now. You had miserable pathetic teachers who probably went on and on about that 'do unto others' drivel. Well you will do unto others. You will watch them submit and you will watch them die. Every death gives more power, every death makes you better. You are better than most, Pretty Boy. Better than the excuse you have for a family…" The Stranger began a diatribe on the evils of weakness and vulnerability. Joe could do nothing but sit and listen as hours passed and the verbal assault grew endless. Finally a question. "Tell me, Pretty Boy. Tell me how you feel about the Cartwrights? Tell me true."

Joe's thought's rushed quickly. What should he say? He had to be convincing. He had to make it believable. "Move to the horse, Joe. Keep your hand out and let him smell you." He looked to the Stranger his voice very soft. "They're dead. It don't matter no more how I feel."

A Slap. "Answer me! How do you feel about them? What you said was no answer!"

Joe's head ached from the assault he took, but knew he had to go slow, not try too much too quickly. "They raised me. I owe 'em. They were not all bad."

Joe's response intrigued the Stranger. "Owe them? What I saw at your house was more than obligation. What do you mean, Pretty Boy?"

"You do what you gotta for blood. You don't give 'em up. You stick with 'em 'cause they raised you." Joe watched as the Stranger studied him. He wanted to know if the demon read minds. Did this devil truly know his heart?

"Sounds to me like all was not peaceful in paradise. I saw you jaw off on your brother in town. That's the brother you'd die for. Just don't get it, Pretty Boy. You sounded mad and yet you go through what I did to you for him. For HIM? You hate him, huh? You do don't you?"

Joe watched the man's fervor in him believing his own interpretation. Joe knew it was much more complicated. But to respond to the madness he had to think. Adam? How to describe Adam. "I do what I feel is worthy. No more no less." Joe feared looking at the Stranger as he spoke.

"Worthy to who?" The Stranger could not help but ask.

"To me." Joe watched the reaction. Was he taming the animal or was he going to be bit? "I don't know what they do for me, but I know what I do for them. I do it cause I know it is part of the bond… uh, part of the agreement at birth."

"So why Pretty Boy? Why die for him?"

Joe again paused as he thought - the answer? What would be the answer? "Not for him, for me. I did it for me. I did it 'cause it was me bein' questioned. You wanted my loyalty. No, you got it wrong if you think I got it in me to protect him. He don't care 'bout me. He is a self-righteous son of a bitch who don't care 'bout what I did. You know I asked him after. After you… uh… after all of it, why. He says to me there's no answer to none of it. That's him, though. Give a nuthin' answer. I tried to die for him."

The Stranger looked to Joe and doubted. This kid so willing to die for family now turning on them? No it did not make sense. "You're lying Pretty Boy! You think me a fool! You lie to me! How dare you!" The Stranger pounced on him. The anger out of wanting to believe and feeling he was being conned welling within the Stranger as he grabbed hold of Joe around the neck, shaking with rage as he screamed, "You think me a fool, Pretty Boy? You think I'm stupid? You're lying to me! You're lying! Admit it!"

The fierceness of the attack was alarming, as Joe could do nothing to defend himself. The Stranger's face was within inches of his own, spitting the words at him. The Stranger was hitting Joe's head back against the post and with every painful blow came the words, "LIAR!"

Joe did not know where the words came from within him. He had to stop the man or he knew he would soon be dead. "Think its Pa… oh God! Fight him, Joe!" Joe releases the words through gasps, "I ain't… lyin' Pa… I swear!"

The Stranger immediately stopped. The grandiosity within him grew as he heard what he wanted to hear. He was winning. He was creating his child in his image. "Say it again, Pretty Boy."

The demand was met as Joe coughed and tried to regain his senses, "I ain't lyin' Pa. I swear."

The Stranger stood over Joe, a grin on his face. "That's my boy. You can learn. You will be rewarded. I bet you're hungry and could use a drink about now."

Joe wanted to smile, but resisted the urge. "How's that halter feelin', you son of a bitch?" He knew not to get overly confident. The Stranger was very smart. He prayed the man's madness would cloud his thinking. The mention of food brought back the realization he had not eaten in days. He was beyond thirst, as his fear and rage had kept him so occupied. His throat was so sore and his voice raspy from the choking, but he realized it was from thirst as well. "Yes sir." Came the response.

The Stranger moved over to his supplies and produced a bottle of whiskey. As Joe watched he grew nervous. He knew he would have to drink, but he needed to stay alert. The stakes were too high. He had to stay one step ahead.

The Stranger returned and sat across from Joe. "Ask me for a drink."

"Can I have a drink, sir?" Joe inwardly cringed at having to ask for what he knew would make him at such a disadvantage.

"Beg me for it." The Stranger continued his wicked grin.

Please. I uh… I need a drink, sir. Please can I have one?"

"Pretty weak, Pretty Boy. You better work on it a bit."

Joe longed to tell the demon his thoughts as he was forced to grovel. He made himself do it in order to live. He knew he had to have some liquid or he would die. His focus on survival, he said, "Sir, I gotta have it. Will you please help me? You're the only one who can."

The Stranger removed the cork with his teeth and moved to Joe. He knelt next to his captive and held the bottle to Joe's mouth, upturned it quickly, pouring the liquid down Joe's throat. Joe gagged and tried swallowing as fast as he could, but he knew the Stranger was enjoying his discomfort so it would continue.

The Stranger stopped his assault to take a drink himself. "Fathers and sons should spend time this way, don't you think?"

Joe was able to catch his breath as he was given a reprieve. He was coughing and choking as the alcohol burned in his stomach. "Yes sir." He gasped. He watched the man drink from the bottle and fantasized smashing the bottle in his face. He felt comfort at knowing his thoughts were his own and what he could not do in real life he did in his head.

"Oh and I know you're hungry, aren't you, Pretty Boy?"

The response was, yes sir, as the thought was, "Oh this I just can't wait for. I can only imagine what loving treat you have brought me, father."

The Stranger once again was in his supplies and then back to Joe. Joe looked at the man's hand and held back a groan. Joe looked to the Stranger's eyes, knowing once more that this demon was taking such pleasure in his reactions. "Still hungry, Pretty Boy?"

"No sir." Joe replied looking at the mashed concoction, knowing there was a good chance he would be ill if he ate it.

"Yes you are, Pretty Boy. You're still hungry." The Stranger did not pause as he began feeding Joe the food he had brought.

Joe held down his revulsion as he focused on winning. "I can take what you have got to give. It won't kill me. I can do it. It's just Hop Sing's rice pudding. Just think of that." Joe allowed his mind to take him to being in the great room at home, lying on the couch, trying to heal from this monster's last attack. He was there with Adam and they were just talking. He thought of the time and how Hop Sing had fussed about the cinnamon and almost smiled. The thoughts of family so cherished so much a part of him stayed in his head. He would make the man pay. He would shove each death down the man's throat.

The Stranger remained impressed as his son showed little reaction. Was his son growing cold? Was it working as he had planned? He knew there were more lessons, so many more. He wanted back to the teaching as he soon tired of feeding.

Once more the verbal barrage continued. Joe sat unable to do anything but listen, as the alcohol took hold and he fought sleep. "Will you shut up!" He thought over and over trying to make rage take over the draw to pass out.

The Stranger spoke endlessly of his beliefs and his desires for Joe as his son. The words blended together as Joe half listened. He felt lightheaded and nauseous, as he could not hold the rage through his deep tired. He fought to focus, but was losing the battle as sleep pulled him to give in. His head nodded forward and for a moment there was quiet and peace.

Pain. A hit to the head. The screaming. Such screaming. Joe woke to the Stranger’s slaps and screams, instantly alert. He had no idea he had drifted off as the Stranger’s unrelenting reprimand brought him fully around. Returning to his senses, Joe knew he had to get the Stranger off of him. He called out, "I'm sorry, sir! I'm so sorry! I'm so stupid and weak. I didn't mean to do it!"

The Stranger continued to hit and slap, all the while chastising his protégé, the injury to the man's ego, enormous. "How dare you! How dare you! You don't think what I have to tell you is important! You waste of life!"

"I'm sorry, sir! I won't do it again!" Joe cowered away, trying to protect himself as best he could from the Stranger's wrath.

The hitting stopped as the demon once more gathered himself. "You listen here you stupid idiot. You do that again Pretty Boy, and I'll kill you! You listening boy?"

Joe noticed the Stranger was beginning to unravel. He realized that just as he was being deprived of sleep, so was the Stranger. It made the dance much more frenzied and probably a lot more dangerous, but Joe prayed it could give him an advantage. "Yes sir. I'm listening. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. Now where was I? Your fear..." As the Stranger began speaking to Joe of fear he produced Joe's pistol and sat unloading the weapon. Joe watched and counted, five bullets removed. The Stranger spun the chamber and then pointed it at Joe. "What you think Pretty Boy? You trust me? Do you trust me with your miserable life?"

Joe’s heart raced. He had no way of knowing where the bullet was in the chamber. "Yes, sir." Came the words and Joe held tight to the post behind him, knowing the gun would be fired. He prayed if he were hit, it would take him instantly to his family.

Click. A laugh. Another spin. The Stranger never took his eyes from Joe as he tormented and tortured. He continued the lecture as Joe’s head left to another time, another place of terror, but where there was comfort so lovingly given. He was in the loft, his brothers so near. They wanted to help him rid himself of the Stranger. He needed them so much to help him now. He longed to have Adam talking him through the fear and Hoss’, his fearless protector, watching over him, willing to shoot dead this devil. He tried to bring back the words of comfort he had heard, but they were distant and all he could bring forth were the faces of the ones he loved tied to chairs in the dining room. The clicking continued as he sorted through images. "Where are you Adam? Talk to me please! Hoss, please Hoss, kill him. Please make it go away."

The Stranger studied his charge. The kid did not move as the gun was aimed and fired over and over. The kid was doing it. He was becoming cold. Nothing was touching him. Joe had no way of knowing, but the horse had taken the bit.
 

The search for their loved one was proving to be its own form of torture. The trail was rough, as the Stranger had deliberately led the trail through the most arduous paths. Ben’s mind assaulted him with images of his youngest child being harmed. His mind could not leave the doctor’s office those weeks ago when he had to come so close to watching his child leave him forever. He drove the others hard, wanting to feel his son back in his arms, away from evil.

No one spoke of their fear as they traveled. On his way out of the ranch house, Adam had grabbed the gun he had seen his little brother fire in such frenzy. He understood the rage in Joe so much more after witnessing the brutality of his brother’s captor. Adam’s hand went often to the gun he carried in his waistband. His thought repetitive, "Joe, you need this. I’m bringing it for you. Hang on, Joe. Hang on."

Hoss found signs where others would see only dirt or rocks. He focused all his thoughts on tracking and proved to be amazing as he worked. The men realized by the direction they traveled that they were headed to Reno. But to simply move to the town was too much of a risk. The Stranger could be leading them towards that destination in hopes they would make an assumption and then change direction and head somewhere else with his hostage. However, the trail eventually did end in Reno, all signs then gone as traffic and time removed the lifeline to Joe.

Upon entering the town, Roy went immediately to the sheriff, as Ben, Hoss and Adam tried to form some type of plan. No one wanted to voice how difficult it was going to be to find anything to help with the rescue. Adam was the first to speak, "We have to think like this man. It’s the only chance we have to get to Joe. Where would he take Joe?"

Ben’s replay of his son’s abduction brought forth an idea. The man loved games. He loved hurting with his games. A game? Where would he take Joseph? Reno made sense given the last time the man had his son. "Hoss! Take us to that cellar. Take us to where you found Joe before."

The three were to the saloon in seconds, running to the back and down the stairs. They had not thought of a lantern as they ran, but Adam was quickly up and grabbing one, descending the stairs once more. The cellar was dark and damp. The noises above muffled. They frantically searched but it was soon painfully evident, Joe was not there. In the spot Hoss had found his little brother hanging, was a paper on the floor. Ben moved to it, and as he looked he saw a lock of hair. There was writing on the paper. He knelt down not wanting to disturb anything, as he knew whose hair was on the paper. He picked up the hair and held it tight, closed his eye and said a quick prayer, as he feared the words he would read.

Ben Cartwright,

I like the way you think, but you find me that predictable? Oh no, not that easy for you, I’m afraid. No, my son is still screaming for you. Do you hear him screaming, Ben?

Ben moaned at the words he read. Joseph’s screams echoing in his own head. This demon knew that was what he was hearing over and over as the time passed and Joe remained lost to him. He could not move from where he knelt as he clutched his son’s hair to his chest. Joe needed him desperately.

Adam and Hoss moved to their father, and as each read the words, each recalled such pain. The three stood frozen in place as the unbelievable was occurring. The silence was broken, as Ben’s fear cut through and he began to weep. The helplessness of having his son harmed by this man, knowing it was happening and being unable to do anything to stop it stripped him of his every defense. He moaned repeatedly, "Joseph!"

Adam and Hoss were left to hear their father’s agony and feel their own. Adam’s guilt struck him like blows as he heard his father call out. He knew he was responsible for this torture as well, "If only I’d thought! Damn it!" He squeezed his father’s shoulder as he felt them shake from sobs. "Pa, I’m so sorry." He said aloud, knowing it offered no comfort.

Ben eventually pulled himself together and stood. He held fast to the lock of hair, as he believed it might have to sustain him when there was no more hope. When Joseph was pronounced dead. It might be his final remembrance of his youngest. The three left the cellar, their pace showing their dejection. Their thoughts asking but one question, "Now what?" They would be left to follow shadows as the Stranger’s choreography played on. 

The words made no sense as the Stranger spoke. Joe was beyond words as his body was so tired. He sat reviewing his life, thinking of his mother and his love of her, thinking of her death and his pain, thinking of his boyhood and how much he had been able to live and grow in such love. He thought of his family, each member and how special each were to him. He spoke to his family in his mind, telling them the words he wished he had spoken aloud, but embarrassment or pride had held him back.

With each name came memories and words. The thoughts came. "Mama, I love you so much. You’ve helped me through many problems by just being in my head. I think I would a givin’ you fits growin’ up, but I wanted you there so many times. You’re my first love, you know. I guess it’s how it is with boys. I’ll see you again, Mama. I know it. And you’ll tell me all ‘bout you. You know ‘bout me cause I know you watch me. I feel it."

It was then to his father that Joe allowed his thoughts to travel. "Pa, you’re my hero. I guess you know it. You’re the strongest man I know. You made me so much of what I am and I want you to be proud of me. I always wanted that. You’ve guided me and when I made some mistakes, even whopper of ones, you helped me through ‘em. Pa, I think you taught me what it is to be a man. You’ll never know how afraid I’ve been to grow up. I’ve made it look like I wanted it more than anythin’ but it scared me, ‘cause then I’d have to try an’ be you. You’ve taught me lots Pa. Lots."

To Adam his thoughts moved. "Older brother, you an’ me. We don’t know what we’re doin’ with each other, do we? I missed you when you left. I think I’m mad at you for goin’ away. Why couldn’t you stay and the ranch be enough? Mama left, then you. Why’d ya go? I kinda like fighting’ with you cause it makes me know you care. I know you don’t argue ‘les you care, so maybe I sometimes pick fights to see if you’re still there. Adam, you ain’t to blame for this, none of it. I think it’s an honor to die for a brother and I’d do it again. I’d do it for you. I wish you knew it was okay. Don’t worry Adam, stop bein’ so serious a second and just smile. I think I’d love to make you laugh ‘bout now. I do love you."

"Hoss, you’re my best friend, you know that? You’ve been there for so much. I always know I have you to back me up. I remember so many times, you an’ me playin’ or getting’ in trouble. Well more like me getting’ you into trouble. Do you know how smart I think you are? How smart in the real life stuff that matters? I saw lots a times you bein’ told you ain’t smart, but you taught me more ‘bout animals and survivin’ and makin’ do. You gotta know Hoss. You take good care a me. I know it."

Joe’s thoughts returned to his current situation. This vile and disgusting man wanted a son. Wanted him to be that son. There was nothing that would make Joe stop being a Cartwright. Nothing. This demon wanted evil; wanted him to move to the dark. He knew the dark was in him, it had permeated every thought of vengeance. He knew there was a bond, a connection to this devil, but to be his son? No, he could never submit to that. He was no one’s son now. He would be Ben Cartwright’s or no man’s. Joe longed for the time when he would have his revenge. He would draw it out and savor it as a fine wine. This man would see all the cold in him, as he would reveal it in rage. He would show the man how deep the hate lived.

The Stranger talked of training. Of needing to know the art of the kill. Joe perked up and listened as he wondered, "Tell me how to kill you, you bastard."

The Stranger told of his thinking and Joe paid close attention. "You kill them in a manner most fitting the opponent. You do as they would least care for. If the man hates water, you kill him in it. If he fears the sword, you run him through. If it is fire, then he burns. You find the thing that they would not do even to an adversary because of their own fear, and you do it. As your gift emerges, you will learn to know his terror and you will make him look at it. With you Pretty Boy, it is being marked you feared. I knew this and I marked you. You went on after the marking. You didn’t let my marking make you weak. You fought your own fears and you overcame your marking. It is that strength that I saw Pretty Boy. It made me know you were worthy of me. You truly care of nothing, even though it appears you do."

Joe listened attentively as he thought about what he was being told. Find the weakness and use it. But he knew of no weakness in this man. He knew only of hurt and pain and power. "I want you dead, you son of a bitch." Joe thought as he studied his teacher. "I want nothing more than seeing you gasp and beg and die. You’re a demon and I don’t know if demons really die, but I want the chance to find out. I want to know if you’re human. I want to feel your neck snap under my hands."

There was something the Stranger was waiting for. Something he hoped had happened. He would have to leave his student, but not before he knew his son loved him. Not before he knew there was devotion. Then he would bring his surprise to his child - the child from him and woman in the picture, his Madonna. "I will uncuff you and will sit there and not move."

Joe looked at the man, knowing again that he was being tested, knowing he had to allow the lead to go to the Stranger. He felt the cuffs give way once more and waited to move. He appeared under the man’s total control and the Stranger reveled in it. The Stranger grinned as he saw his son had indeed learned. His son loved him. "Show me your love Pretty Boy. Tell me what I mean to you."

Joe knew he could not see the man as he was and praise him. "Talk to Pa. It’s Pa you are tellin’ it to." Joe cleared his throat and spoke. "You made me strong. You’ve shown me the right way. I was lost ‘til you found me. You’ll make me strong."

The Stranger smiled. He was pleased. "Take the gun, Pretty Boy. Take it and hold it to your head. Tell me you’ll die for me. Tell me true."

Joe did as instructed, holding his own gun to his head. He had no idea where the bullet was, but either way he gained power. He looked into the Stranger’s eyes as he pulled the trigger. Click. No death. Only a laugh to greet him. "You love me Pretty Boy! You love me so much!"

Joe wanted to laugh himself. The saddle was cinched and soon it would be time to ride. He held the gun but it did not register until too late what he could do with the weapon. It felt almost unreal to hold, as if it were all a dream. Soon he gave it back, but as it left his grasp he realized a lost opportunity. He was tired, cold and hungry and giving the gun back made him realize his thinking was dulled. He could have turned and used the weapon. "Come on, Joe. Think! You gotta look for that opportunity. You gotta get him."

The Stranger immediately moved back and cuffed Joe to the post once more. He knelt a moment and caressed Joe’s cheek before speaking. Joe held very still, knowing to pull away would undo all of the work he had done in taming the wild horse. The man kept very close as he watched Joe’s eyes. He smiled a wicked grin. "I am going out for a while Pretty Boy. I am going to bring you a surprise. Now your job is to stay awake. If I return and you are sleeping you will be severely punished. I will have to make you hurt. Remember the whip, son. It will be used again." With that, the Stranger leaned in and kissed Joe on the forehead.

The Stranger patted Joe once more and walked away, carrying the lantern off into the darkness of the tunnel. The sound of whistling echoed through the walls as the demon moved away. Soon it was dark and quiet and Joe was left with only his thoughts. He tried to think of anything to fight the draw to sleep. His mouth was so dry and as his mind went to the familiar, a ride around the Ponderosa and Lake Tahoe he had to stop the thoughts. He felt as if he could drink the whole lake. He tried to make himself swallow, but it was so hard as his throat felt like a razorblade and there was no spare moisture to relieve the suffering.

His thought then turned to the big house. He knew every inch of the place. He walked across the great room, up the stairs and to his safest place. He went to his room in his mind. He felt a peace overcome him as he walked through his possessions, recalling where each picture hung, where each dent was in the walls. He could see it so clearly as he moved into a dream state. He saw his bed calling him, the big fluffy down comforter, the soft pillow. Joe moved to it in his head and was soon fast asleep.
 

It had been three days since the man had stolen his son and Ben could not help viewing every hour passing as an hour closer to his son’s death. He would not allow himself to believe Joe was already dead. It would be too much pain. He had to believe that although he knew Joe would possibly be severely injured, Joe had held on before and would do it again. He knew his youngest so well and his primary fear was his son’s rage. He knew Joe had an enormous amount of anger in him - some of it Ben more than understood - some of it he did not. He feared Joe would not be able to quell the rage and it would get him killed. Not more than a few moments would pass before Ben was once more praying for his son to be delivered once more to him.

The Cartwrights had functioned on very little sleep or food. The Sheriff of Reno and Roy had formed search parties and the town was being combed for any sign of Joe. The men had taken time to have a sketch made of the Stranger so as to have those searching for Joe know what his captor looked like as well. As the composite was drawn of his son, Ben had to excuse himself. As he saw the image come alive on paper, his heart ached. He had to have his boy back.

The three Cartwrights had decided to split up to cover more area. The strength they gained working together was powerful, but the need to quicken the search overwhelmed them. Their instincts said Joe was near. The demon wanted to play and was probably watching as they frantically looked. Each man hoped he would be the one to find the villain and dole out his own justice.

Adam had been assigned to go door to door through the shops near the saloon where Joe had been initially held. He had meant to make it to Reno before Joe had been taken, but he had placed Joe’s recovery as his highest priority and had not wanted to leave his little brother until he was sure Joe was stable. He severely reprimanded himself for not going after the man once he had known of his existence. He would forever live with the knowledge of what he had done to his brother and his family. It made it an almost impossible burden to carry.

As Adam walked into a mercantile, he did not realize he was being watched. He was focused on the questions to ask in order to jog someone’s memory. He hoped that there was some clue, some shred of information someone held that would give him some hope. At each place had been the same story. No one had seen anything, but they all promised they would keep their eyes open.
 

He saw the one he wanted and could not contain his pleasure. His smile transformed into a grin as he fantasized the next steps to be danced by his son. This was almost more than he could ask for as he crossed the street and moved into place. It would be as it was at the kid’s home, three drops and then nighty night. Oh why didn’t they make this at least a little bit of a challenge? Were they all that stupid?

Adam had no idea what happened as he exited the store, turned to move down the sidewalk and was grabbed from behind. He struggled, but the advantage went to the Stranger and soon Adam was in a heap on the ground.

From town to the mine was some distance to travel with his latest victim, and he had to move through back alleys and stay in the shadows. He walked Adam, so that if anyone were suspicious it would appear as if Adam had over indulged in alcohol and he was simply a friend assisting a fallen colleague home.

Once to the horses on the outskirts, he threw Adam over the saddle as he had done the younger one and was off to the classroom. As he rode he talked aloud. "Pretty Boy, you will be so shocked, yes you will. I have brought you a great gift. You will become my son this day. You will cross over to greatness and we shall be forever connected. This will be your destiny!"

They reached the mine and the Stranger dragged and carried Adam to the depths below. The travel was slow, as Adam was a more formidable size than his younger brother. The Stranger played out the scenario in his thoughts. He saw the dance come alive and the musical score crescendo once more. He was lost to the steps when he felt his hostage stir. He threw the body on the ground. "Perfect! You met your mark just perfect. Wake up, Socrates. I’ve decided you shall make an entrance. You need to see Pretty Boy’s reaction to you. A sweet, touching family reunion awaits you. WAKE UP!"

Adam stirred to screams and maniacal laughter. There was a familiar ill feeling as the sedation remained in his blood. He was confused and disoriented as he felt the kicks. His face was in dirt and as he tried to move his hands to him, he realized he was restrained. Again he heard more shouting, as he gained lucidity. "Wake up, Socrates! Wake up, no more sleepy time for you! You must be ready to meet your executioner. WAKE UP!"

Adam lifted his head and took in the sight of the demon. He was momentarily thrown as he wondered if he were not having a nightmare. All too quickly he knew what had happened. He was in the lair of the demon. He felt himself pulled to his feet and shoved forward. The sedative kept him groggy with a throbbing headache, as he stumbled through the shaft. He prayed as he walked he was taken to Joe and not to a corpse.

The room lit slowly, as the Stranger and Adam entered. Against a post, in the center of the room, was a body slumped over. The only clothing, torn ragged jeans. The body covered in dirt and grime was not moving. "Wrong way to be Pretty Boy!" The Stranger growled. The body did not move.

The Stranger quickly shoved Adam into the room as Adam desperately tried to see if Joe was alive. He feared the worst, as his brother remained unmoving. The Stranger held a gun and pointed it to Joe. "If you move, he’s shot. You understand?"

There was hope as Adam heard this. At least when the man left Joe, his brother was alive. Adam was uncuffed and then told to reach up. He did as instructed, keeping his eye on Joe trying to see if he were alive. The stranger cuffed Adam where he had formerly held his brother and then went immediately to Joe.

The screaming filled the room as the Stranger let loose kicking and hitting. The cursing was intense as Joe returned to the room. There was no way to protect himself other than to try and curl up to avoid the painful blows. He prayed the Stranger would soon calm as he said over and over "I’m sorry, Pa. I’m sorry."

"NO! You’re not sorry. What did I tell you! What did I say! You were not to sleep! No sleep! You weakling! What did I tell you I’d do! WHAT?"

"Oh no! Please, No!" Joe begged in his head. He gathered all of his resolve and said in a steady, flat voice, "You said you would whip me, Pa."

"Damn right I said I would, Pretty Boy! You least remembered that part! Why won’t you do as your told!" The Stranger was slapping Joe as he spoke.

"’Cause I got weak, sir. I want to be strong like you. Help me be strong, sir. Please." Joe’s voice was raspy and very soft as he spoke. He hoped his words would move him away from being whipped.

"Pretty Boy, you ruined your surprise by disobedience! Do you know how angry that makes me! Do you know you ruined my planning!"

Joe was becoming extremely fearful. Had he lost the edge he had held? Did he have to go back and re-lasso the horse? He could not start all over again. It was too much. How could he calm the demon? "You brought me a surprise, sir?"

The question brought the Stranger back to the dance. He held Joe’s head by his hair as he moved aside and Joe caught full view of his gift. He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming. Adam was dead. He was dead! But there he was. Joe wanted to cry out. His first instinct to get to his brother and feel if he was real. But no, he had to keep going. Adam may not even really be there. He did not trust his mind to think clearly, as he sat and stared at the man in front of him.

Adam had heard his brother’s attempts to speak and stood helpless, as he had to witness the treatment. He feared saying anything afraid he would increase the man’s wrath and place Joe’s life in further danger. He heard Joe call this man, Pa. The revulsion grew. He saw Joe’s face turned to him, but his brother was looking through him. Adam’s heart broke. His little brother’s appearance was scary. His face was covered in dirt and blood, and it was obvious he had been beaten. Joe looked more like an animal than human, as he stared blankly.

"Are you pleased Pretty Boy? Do you like it?" The Stranger was surprised at the lack of emotion in his student. He was surprised, but very pleased.

Was this really happening? Was it real? Joe held tight to the post, unsure if he was losing his mind. "Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

The Stranger moved to Adam and laughed. "You see. I’ve created my son. You like him? I’m quite please. Pretty Boy? Do you love me?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you really love me?" The Stranger felt the power.

"Yes Pa, I really love you."

"Let’s show Socrates here how much you love me, shall we?" The Stranger once more moved to Joe. He undid a cuff and gave the command, "Pretty Boy, lay your arm out on the ground. Place your palm up."

Joe knew he was now ready to sit the bucking horse. He thought, "Brace yourself." Joe’s soft raspy voice said, "Yes sir."

The Stranger stood up and looked at Joe. He screamed, "You love me!" As he stomped down on Joe’s wrist.

White-hot pain shot through Joe’s arm as Adam heard the crack. Joe did not move as he fought passing out. He wanted to scream, but the words stayed only in his head. It was surreal as he tried to ride it through and did not move for fear he would receive more pain. His mind rushed with all the hurt of the past and present. He was close to madness.

Adam was paralyzed in his own shock. He had watched as his little brother had taken the assault and never moved. He wanted to cry out as he watched the Stranger kiss Joe on the forehead and then move Joe’s arm back into the cuffs. This was vile and evil. Adam could imagine nothing more horrid as seeing what he had. The snap of the bone echoed in his head. He feared the worst as he watched Joe. He saw his brother’s eyes transfixed on the evil man, thanking him for hurting him. "Joe! No! You can’t be gone!" Adam screamed in his mind. He fought back tears as he saw Joe’s only focus being on the devil.

"Now boys," The Stranger began. "I need to go get a few things. I will leave you alone to reunite. I’m sure you have lots to talk about. Oh Pretty Boy, before I go. You thirsty?"

"Yes sir." Came the flat response, as Joe now longed for the whiskey to manage the pain.

"Yeah, I bet so. You’ve been without for quite a while. Here. You reach it, you can have it." The Stranger placed the whiskey bottle just outside Joe’s grasp. Another game, Joe realized. The man never stopped. Joe made himself focus on one spot and breathe. It was all he could do as the pain moved through him. The Stranger watched Joe’s face, looking for weakness. Seeing none, he patted Joe on the head and walked out, leaving a lantern burning.

The Stranger left, leaving the brothers to reconnect. Adam immediately whispered, "Joe, you okay buddy?"

No answer.

"Joe, talk to me. Are you okay?" Adam needed to see if there was any way to get through to Joe.

No answer.

The panic was evident in Adam as he stood looking at Joe. Joe stared at nothing. "Joe, look at me. Can you look at me? Please Joe, look here."

Joe continued to stare as he listened to Adam. He knew the Stranger was eavesdropping. It was yet another test. Joe knew the man would not leave the two alone in the light as he had, unless he was near. He once more used his rage as it helped with the pain. He wanted to cry out, but he thought of the twisted thinking instead. This man was truly sick to bring his brother here like this. But wait, if Adam were here? "Pa? Are you alive? Hoss? Please let them be alive! God, please give them back to me! Please!" It took everything Joe had within him not to ask Adam about his father and brother. The dance was far too frenzied to risk a false step. He had to keep on his own course. The one he knew. The one he had put all of his faith in. If he were to get Adam and himself out alive, he had to be cruel. He had to hurt.

Adam had no idea what to say. He saw his brother, so destroyed and believed it was his own doing. He wanted Joe to be reached. He wanted his baby brother whole. "Joe, buddy? I’m so sorry. I’m sorry this happened to you. I’ll do what it takes to save you. Joe, I didn’t know. I didn’t. This man is a devil. I heard you speak before, but I never really realized. I’ve made huge mistakes Joe. Pa is so afraid for you. He misses you so much. He has everyone looking for you…"

"Pa?" Joe’s thoughts ran to the man he loved. "Papa! He’s alive? Tell me Adam! Tell me!" Joe’s focus stayed on the wall across from him. He wanted to cry. "Pa, you’re still here." Could he even hope? Even dream Hoss was okay? "Please God! I need all of them! Please!"

"Joe, everyone is looking for you. We’re going to be found and then we’ll all be okay. I owe you so much, Joe. I owe you my life. I want you to know I’ll die for you. You offered for me. I’ll do it for you.

"Buddy, I’ve not told you a lot of how I feel about you. I’m so proud to have you as my brother. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. I know I’m hard on you and I demand a lot, but it’s because I believe you got a lot more potential in you than you realize. You’re so much braver in some things than me. You’re braver with feelings. You plunge right in and the world be damned. You’ve taught me, just as your mother did. You teach me the feelings and I teach you the thinking. We needed each other Joe. You know it and I know it."

Joe felt his heart pulled as he heard the words. He longed to call out, "Adam, you’re so right." But he remained ever diligent. The Stranger was hearing this too. He had to make it real. He had to ride the bronc.

"Go to hell, Adam." Joe snapped, his voice a little above a whisper. "You just keep your do goodin’ to those who care. Shut up and leave me be. You got nothin’ I want. Nuthin’ I need. I know how you think a me and it ain’t good, so shut up!"

Joe’s words hit Adam hard. His brother was so angry, so angry and cold. He tried to get Joe to look at him, but his brother remained staring at nothing. What did it mean? Was Joe really gone? "Joe, come on. That’s not true. You know that’s not the way it is."

Joe slowly turned his head to look at Adam. The crazed, wild look was there as he spat the words, "You’re weak Adam, so weak and pitiful. You believe that family bullshit. All that matters is power, survival and makin’ ‘em pay. You owe me Adam. You owe me so much!"

The words were knives in Adam’s soul. His brother did hold him accountable. It was as he had feared. The pretenses were gone as Adam heard the truth. Joe hated him. Joe’s maniacal behavior was because of him. His suffering was because of him. Adam knew what he would have to do. He had to make it right for Joe. He had to do whatever it took to insure Joe lived.

The Stranger returned, applauding as he entered. "So touching Socrates. But you see he IS my son. He is bound for greatness, aren’t you Pretty Boy?"

Joe looked to his father, the look one of admiration. "Pa, make me great. Make me like you."

The words brought fear to Adam and power to the Stranger. "Pretty Boy. I need a sacrifice. You or him Pretty Boy. You choose. You willing to die once more for your brother?"

Without pause Joe answered. "No, Pa. He’ll die. I’ll give him to you. Please let me. Please let me give you my love."

The Stranger was beyond pleased as he heard his son beg to kill. "Pretty Boy, you will be rewarded. Here, drink." The Stranger once more upended the whiskey bottle for Joe. It poured quickly, and Joe was frantic in trying to grab the liquid. He needed it to live and he needed it for pain.

Joe took in all the liquid he could manage. He knew it was because he was in desperate need and drew hard on the bottle. He had to keep his senses, but the pull was strong to be lost in the pain killing fluid. His thoughts were, "Take me away. Just take me outta here." When he had slept, he had dreamt of another time, a time with his family around him when they had enjoy a church social, nothing harsher than Hoss wanting more pie. He could not look to Adam for relief, although he longed for his brother. He felt so alone as he made his decision. He would stay on the horse. Ride it to the end.

The Stranger again patted Joe’s cheek and looked to Adam. "So Socrates, you really ready to die? You ready for my son to deliver you from your existence?"

The words the man spoke were terrifying, but as Adam look to Joe he knew he would do what he had to. Joe was so damaged, obviously beyond reach. The Stranger had made his little brother choose and he had heard Joe’s reply. Joe wanted justice for his own destroyed life. "I’ll die for Joe. I told him that."

"Very well. I’m sure my son will make me proud." The Stranger moved to Joe and undid the cuffs. Joe sat very still, knowing where the power rested. The Stranger pulled him up to his feet, as Joe tried to meet the expectation. His body was stiff and hurting, the movement proving painful. "Pretty Boy, stand before your sacrifice. Show him your power."

Joe looked Adam in the eye, keeping himself cold and dead. The horse would either tire or throw him and in moments he would know. He was afraid as he wondered, was this the time? Was it now or never? He wished he had some view of the future as he risked everything. If this were again a game he was dead, but so was Adam. Could he risk it? Was this the time. No more thoughts. Just do it. Change the lead. "You’ve always thought yourself better than me. Well look who’s the winner in the end. Adam, you’re nuthin’ to me. Nuthin’!" Joe spit in Adam’s face, and knew the pain he was causing. He prayed for a time of healing to be able to right his own wrong.

The Stranger watched, loving the vengeance he witnessed. "Tell me how you’ll kill him, Pretty Boy. Tell me his weakness."

"He’s a coward. You told me that our first visit. He hides away and is scared. He needs to look death in the eye. He needs to see it come from me."

"Ah! Very clever Pretty Boy, you have learned! And how will you do this? The whip?"

"No, Pa. I want a gun, his gun. Did he bring one?"

The Stranger was beyond delight as he showed Joe there were two weapons. The kid was appearing to actually be enjoying himself as he stood before the prey. The kill would be the beginning. The beginning of greatness, far surpassing any he could imagine. The Stranger watched his son’s eyes and saw them cold. It looked so good to him. Death in the eyes. That was always good. Either in making the life leave by killing, or in this case, creating dead eyes. It was his most magnificent feat. The dead eyes made the Stranger believe.

Joe took the bigger caliber, the one he knew was true. He looked to Adam as he spit his words. "You’re a coward, Adam. You hide away and you fear a man. A MAN! What could he do to you? What did you fear?" Joe held the gun cocked, ready to fire. The Stranger moved next to Joe, salivating at the kill. "I hope you know what you mean to me!" Joe screamed as he turned quickly.

The gun hit hard against the Stranger’s head, knocking him off his feet. Joe was then on him, all fists and fury. He pounded away with his good hand as he held the stunned demon down with the forearm of his injured arm. The Stranger was shocked as Joe let loose, all movement as he pounded. He took the gun and slammed it against the Stranger’s head several times. He felt the body eventually go limp as he continued his wrath. As he saw the Stranger leave consciousness, he quickly gathered the handcuffs that had been his restraints, and placed them on the Stranger, cuffing him to a post. Joe backed away then to observe as he had the demon trapped. He walked in circles around the man trying to decide his next move.

Adam stood watching, unsure what to do. He had expected to die after seeing Joe’s insanity, the vicious attack against the man coming as a complete shock. He watched his brother beat the man and saw Joe’s rage. Would he see Joe kill this devil? If his brother did, Adam would do nothing but help. He had seen the state Joe had been driven to. He had seen Joe’s torture. Whatever Joe wanted, it seemed just.

Joe was in his own world. It was not real he had captured the demon. It did not make sense the evil man was finally his. He was confused as he moved. He had to keep moving, as he knew the dance was still playing out. He felt himself free, but it made no sense. He forgot Adam was near as he focused on his villain. He hated, a deep, dark, cold, hate. The man in front of him the reason he hated. He wanted revenge as he circled the man who remained groggy from the blows. Joe waited for him to return. He wanted the man awake to die.

He paced and spoke aloud. "So long I’ve waited. So long I’ve wanted to kill you. I want you dead! You did this to me! You’re EVIL! You need to be DEAD! I WANT YOU OUT OF ME! I’M NOT YOUR SON! I’M BEN CARTWRIGHT’S SON! I’M NOT PART OF YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE WHAT YOU DO! I’M NOT YOU! I’M NOT! I’M NOT EVIL!" Joe was in a fury as his screams echoed through the mine. He wanted all association with this demon severed. He wanted to give all the rage and hurt back to the one responsible.

As the Stranger opened his eyes and looked at Joe, Joe was once more on him. He moved to the Stranger and kicked him in the groin. "That hurt! Tell me true! That feel bad, you sick bastard!" He asked as he kicked again. He was soon gone once more to the rage and pain. He wanted the demon to feel all he had felt. He was in full attack once more. A laugh rose up from the Stranger as he was hit. "You’re my son! You’re mine. See how you like it!"

Joe agreed he loved the power as he hit, kicked and punched the devil that had controlled him. He felt it all as he retaliated. He gave it back to the demon. He hit as hard as he ever had, hoping to send each punch through the man’s soul. "You son of a bitch!" He screamed as he let go his wrath. "I want you dead!"

Again the laughter as the Stranger took the blows. Joe then backed off. "Pretty Boy, you need to kill me to make you whole. Do it! Take my blood on your hands. It will make you strong. I promise. You want to kill. DO IT! IT WILL MAKE YOU TRULY GREAT!"

"Damn it! Even now he corrupts! Even now he destroys me! I can’t win!" Joe took the gun in his hand and he circled. He cocked it, still circling. "Kill him like he would hate to be killed" echoed through his head. He wanted to torture, what was it that would both rid him of this demon and give him vengeance. Power and control were this demon’s only loves. What would take it away? Joe walked the floor aiming and cocking the gun and then moving away. "What will KILL you?" He asked over and over in his head. Then the struggle increased. "I’m not like you! I’m nothing like you! I don’t take pleasure in other’s pain! I wanna hurt you! I wanna make you beg. I want you to suffer! What to do! I want to kill you! I’m not YOU!"

Adam saw Joe’s struggle and tried to help his brother. He wanted the evil man dead as well. Was Joe going to be able to do it? Would it hurt Joe to do it? He wanted his baby brother okay. "Joe, let me. Let me kill him."

"Shut up Adam!" Joe said for a moment aiming the gun at his brother’s head. "This is MINE! MINE to do!" Joe turned from Adam and again was walking. He was crazed as he paced the floor. How to do it… How… What’s right… Pa tell me… Damn it, think… Ah! That’s it! Joe turned and looked at the Stranger.

"Great? I don’t want great you son of a bitch. I want you to pay. I want you outta my head."

"No Pretty Boy, you want me dead. Do it! KILL ME! LET ME SEE YOU DO IT! IT WILL GO ON IN YOU! YOU ARE MY LEGACY!"

Joe knew the game and was tired of the dance. The band had stopped and he was alone in the quiet. He knew how to best his foe as he looked down on him. It was truly over. He felt it as he spoke. "I ain’t gonna kill you, you son of a bitch. No, you’ll have trial. A jury of weak, scared, powerless people will judge you. And when you hang, the only child there will be you. You’ll hang alone, in front of everyone. You’ll wet yourself and crap yourself, as people watch your body sway. You’ve got no power then. You got nothin’ but a broke neck." Joe started to laugh. He realized that was the fear. "You’ll be a laughing stock. You’ll be weak! I won, you son of a bitch!"

Joe went to turn away. He was moving to get the key for Adam when he heard screaming. "You will not win, Pretty Boy. You lied. You betrayed me!" Then two voices were heard. The Stranger screaming, "You’re like me! No sheriff! Finish it! You weak bastard! You sniveling child! YOU WILL NOT DO THIS!" The other voice. The voice of Adam "Joe look out. He’s got your gun!"

Joe rolled and came up firing. His only thought survival, as he used his bad hand to pull back and cock the gun each time. Six bullets fired and six bullets hit their mark.

Silence.

Eerie silence. Joe lay on the ground. He placed his head down and exhaled, slow to return to the room. Finally lifting his head, then his body, he forced himself to stand. He walked to the demon and pushed on the body. Six shots to the head, the man was dead. He stood over the corpse of the one who had lived to dance with him. The dance was over. It was done. No more dancing. No more living at the Stranger’s mercy. No more. Joe moved away and was ill as the revulsion overpowered. He expelled the evil, he was sick at the steps he had danced.

Adam looked on, watching his brother look over the dead man. He saw Joe become ill and wanted to give comfort. He waited, as he knew Joe had gone through something he could never fully understand and gave the lead to his brother. His only wish, Joe to be okay, and as he reviewed what his brother had done, he was awed. Joe had fooled both him and the demon. He had been so believable. Adam stood watching as Joe checked yet again to see his captor was truly dead. He watched as his little brother tossed the gun that he had used to kill the man onto the man’s lap. Adam felt it a conclusion as Joe gave up the weapon.

"Joe?" Adam questioned, but there was no response. Adam knew to wait. It would come in time.

Joe turned to Adam and not speaking, looked for the key. He found it in the Stranger’s pocket and moved to his older brother. He never looked at Adam as he fumbled to use his hands to free him. Once undone, Adam was hesitant to move to Joe. Joe said nothing as he then walked to Adam’s coat. Joe grabbed it and put it on, his movements slow. He turned to Adam and said very quietly, "Adam, take me to Pa."

"Buddy, you want to wait here and I’ll bring help? You don’t look good to me."

"No. I’m walking out of here. I’m leaving it behind me. Just get me to Pa. I’ll be able to make it."

Adam grabbed the lantern as he moved to the tunnel. Joe was slow to follow as his eyes fell once more on the madman. Joe moved over to insure himself the demon could really die and then he was next to Adam, the dance had ended. He would leave the Stranger to dance in hell.
 

Adam insured he had a canteen as he exited the mine. He knew Joe had gone without and wanted to make sure he could take care of his brother. He was uncertain if Joe could travel, his condition looked precarious. Once in daylight, he could see how Joe had really faired. To Adam, his brother appeared wild and mad, no different than in the dim light. But he also looked so very young. There was a frail innocence he saw trying to peak through. It was gone in an instant, the cold Joe back once more. Adam knew how to tend his brother as he opened the canteen and held it as Joe drank.

Joe felt the liquid hit his throat and he drank heartily. He needed the water so badly as he stood, allowing his brother’s care. He drew hard, the taste so new as he felt his body’s need. Adam watched, knowing to go slow, but tempted to let Joe have his fill. As he pulled it away, Joe fought with a grunt, but Adam knew Joe would soon be sick if he had too much.

They looked at one another. No words. What happened, a bond forever between them. They knew the gift each had given the other. A life. How could one ask for more? Joe eventually said very quietly, as words required such energy, "You’re right Adam. We need each other."

Adam looked at his baby brother. Baby brother? No, Joe would be more now. He would always be that tiny infant with all the dark hair, but now he was more. Joe was a man. A man that Adam could see did have all the potential he had believed was there, and some he had not even known of. Joe was more than he dreamed, more than he hoped. They continued to look as Adam confessed, "Joe, I’m sorry. I didn’t…"

Joe cut him off as he said very softy, "No Adam tell me you did. Tell me I did it for a reason. Tell me it all meant something. Tell me all you wanted me to believe was true. It’s worth it to believe in something and to fight for it and to die. Don’t tell me it was for nothing."

Adam looked at Joe, as he wondered. "When did you grow up little brother?" He said, "You did it for a reason, Joe. You did it for the best reason. You did it for love."

"Not just love, Adam. I did it for you. That’s more than love. That’s brothers." The two stood looking at each other, no more words, only thoughts in their heads. Adam would carry the secret of what he had done. He had given Joe his freedom. He had made it so it was finally finished. Adam held Joe’s gun, no longer in the Stranger’s possession. He had picked it up while Joe had gone to the coat. He prayed his brother would never recall where the gun had really been in those final seconds. He moved towards Joe and put the weapon in Joe’s waistband. "I think this belongs to you."

Joe looked for a moment longer at Adam, gave a small smile and then looked to the horses. He wanted their father. He needed to be with the man who had made him who he was. Adam saw the look and knew the meaning. "Come on buddy, but you tell me if you get too tired. You tell me if you need to stop."

"Adam, I know all I need… I found it out… I figured it out."

Adam assisted Joe on a horse and they were soon off to Reno. Joe could not help it as he kicked the horse he was on and soon was ahead of his brother. The ride was hard, as Joe many times felt very ill, but the thought to stop never entered his mind. He held onto reins with broken hands as one thought permeated his mind. Joe wanted his dream more than anything and Adam was left only to follow and worried as he trailed behind. They reached town and Joe pulled his horse up on the main street. He dismounted, not securing the animal, somehow knowing his father was near. He looked hard but not seeing him, the fear emerging strong. Then… the silver hair… the movements… it was Pa!

"Pa!" he tried to scream no more than a whisper. His father talking to Hoss oblivious to the cry. "Pa!" Again Joe tried, but his voice was too far gone. "Pa…" He called once more as Adam’s voice took over. The cry loud and strong "Pa, look here!"

Ben heard his eldest child’s voice and turned to see a figure in the street. A ragamuffin. His boy! His son was there, trying to get to him. "JOSEPH!" Ben screamed as he saw his youngest son. He ran to Joe just in time to catch his son collapsing in sobs. His child, somehow knowing his father would be there to catch him. "Pa! Oh Pa!" Joe began to weep. "Papa! Oh God!"

Ben was in a dream. Here was Joe in his arms. He held his son as he began to weep as well. "My boy!" was said a thousand times as Ben held Joe and both released their pain. They stood in the street, not caring as they felt only the fear move slowly away, and the love comfort.

The two stood rocking each other through the fear. Hoss and Adam were crying as well as they saw the family restored. Ben held Joe until his son’s weeping slowed. He moved to look Joe in the eye, to see the hazel eyes that held such mystery. He looked at his boy wanting to know what he had seen. Knowing it would take time to see, time to hear and time to help. Ben saw the bruises and knew his boy was hurt. "Joseph, let’s get you to the doctor’s."

Joe heard the love, but would have nothing of it. "Pa, I don’t wanna go there. I can’t go there. I need a bath, a meal, and a whole lot to drink and, Pa… I’m so tired. I don’t wanna sleep there. I’m okay. I wanna go home."

Ben laughed as he looked at his youngest. He was battered and bruised and wanting his home, so typical. "Joe, tell me. Are you really okay? Do you need a doctor?"

Joe looked at his father and saw the concern. He knew there were broken bones. He should let them fuss. "Pa, I’ll make you a deal. If I can have a bath and a good night’s sleep, I’ll see a doctor. But he tells me I gotta eat that stuff he gave me before and…"

Ben gave Joe the look. The look that said he was in control. "Joseph, you will get a bath and that bed. Let’s go to the hotel. Hoss go get Doc Green and tell him Joe needs him… again. And tell him to fire up some broth and egg flip just in case."

Joe leaned heavy on his father, as he was led to the hotel. He said very quietly, "You give me that egg flip and I’ll revolt."

Ben held tight to his boy. He held his prayer in his arms. "Joseph." He whispered over and over. His son heard and was comforted. He felt his father’s arms and knew the love that was there.

In the hotel, Ben had everything at his disposal. He had a hot bath drawn as he ordered some food for Joe. Joe remained so close to his father, never letting him move too far away. Ben helped his son undress and once more saw the torture. He winced at the bruises, but Joe comforted, "It’s okay, Pa. I’m okay." It was all Joe would say of the ordeal with the demon. Ben left Joe to soak, knowing the warm water would bring comfort. He impatiently waited for the doctor and Joe’s meal. He wanted his son tended, and no request was to be slighted.

The doctor arrived quickly, but Ben was already getting ready to go fetch him. They locked eyes, eyes of a frightened father, eyes of a devoted physician. "Ah, you’re here." Ben tried to appear nonchalant. Doctor Green had seen the look in Ben Cartwright before. He was worried.

"I’m here. Where’s Joseph?"

"Uh… just a moment…" Ben entered where Joe was soaking to see his youngest fast asleep. He watched a moment before he disturbed, seeing a young child as he looked. He knew Joe was beyond tired. "Son? Joe? Wake up."

Joe bolted up right and Ben was quick to calm. "Ssshh, just me… Just your Pa."

Joe looked to his father, "Uh… yeah… uh… sorry Pa."

"No sorry needed. Let me help you out." Ben helped Joe out of the bathtub and into bed. Joe felt the comfort, the draw to sleep. He knew his body was injured but it was numb to him. Fatigue was so heavy as he tried to stay awake. He watched the doctor enter and his father standing near. He soon felt nothing as the liquid he was told to drink took him away.

Ben stayed in the room as the doctor tended. He was told of a broken wrist, broken hand and so many bruises. Ben watched over, as the doctor checked his boy. His son’s face bruised; his ribs tender. The Stranger had not done as much physical damage this time. However, Ben feared the mental damage done. It was that hurt that had ended them once more in Reno. The doctor gave his recommendations. Joe needed fluids desperately, sleep almost as much and some food. Ben was given painkillers to help with the hurts and then Doctor Green was gone. It was now up to the Cartwrights to cope.

It was after things had settled that Adam told the story of what he had seen. He told of Joe’s plight, his insanity and his bravery. Hoss and Ben remained transfixed. It was so very hard to believe. Joe had bested a madman, had stared down his fear. It was so much greater than the fear they had seen at the ranch. Joe had conquered evil. As each had thought of their need to save the one who slept in the other room, they realized something. He had saved himself. He had done what none of them thought possible.

Ben smiled as he thought of the tiny little baby that was now a man. He moved to the door and opened it. He looked in and saw Joe groggy. He wondered if his child was in distress as he moved to him. "Joe, you okay?"

"Pa? Pa? That you?" A very soft voiced asked.

"It’s your Pa, boy, just checking on you. You okay?"

"Pa… Pa… Please stay. Please stay with me… I ain’t afraid no more, Pa… He’s dead… Demons do die. But Pa… I want you here… Will you stay? Right here." Ben was so touched by his child as he moved close, soon sitting on the bed. Joe felt his father’s presence, his head soon in his father’s lap, the broken wrist his father gently held. He settled in once more and Ben assumed him asleep when he heard the small voice say, "I’m so glad you’re my Pa." Ben’s eyes weld with tears and he would cry many more that night as he held his son. He stroked his child’s hair over and over as he said, "I’m so glad you’re my son."
 

Joe slept many hours, ate everything he could get his hands on and drank an endless amount of water. He was catered to as he rested and as his family made sure he was cared for. Joe replayed his time in the mine over and over as he tried to come to an understanding of what had happened. The comprehension was slow as he moved from survival to acceptance. The Stranger visited in dreams, in some Joe was the victor, and in others the ending left him screaming out loud. He still had questions, perhaps more than he had previously. He stayed close to his father, needing his comfort most of all.

Eventually it was time for the Cartwrights to leave once more for their home. As before, Joe was able to do little to assist and stood in the hotel room watching his father pack. He looked at the man who had raised him. The man who had handled little boy fears, teenage rebellion and now, had shown him once more that he was the calm in the storm. His father was the one who could quiet the demons that haunted. Whatever the fear, whatever the problem, this man, his father would hold it close and help him through it. When the hurt was the worst, when the fear something he himself could not face, his father could. His father was truly powerful, a comforting power that did not break his spirit, but rather gave him courage.

"Pa?" Joe asked quietly. "Can I tell you somethin’?"

Ben stopped moving around and sat on the bed looking at his youngest, the thought once more so grateful he had his boy back. "Sure, what’s on your mind."

"I realized somethin’. Maybe somethin’ other folks already knew, but I guess I didn’t ‘til I had to do it. Pa, I realized somethin’ ‘bout me. I never had to outthink someone. Have to use my head instead of my fists when everything relied on me doin’ it. I thought you all were dead. I thought it was just me, and I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to die for takin’ away… Pa?" Joe looked to his father’s the tears in his eyes.

Ben gave a reassuring smile and waited. It would come if he waited.

"Pa, I was so alone. It was so hard to find you, even in my head. I never want to be without you… I just didn’t…" Joe looked down at the ground as he felt how afraid he had been.

Ben was to his feet and to his son. He lifted Joe’s chin and looked in his child’s misty eyes. "Joseph, I’m in here." Ben said touching Joe’s chest. "I’m inside you. I was with you. I will always be with you. You are my son. MY boy. I raised you, so you are part of me. You learned to take what I’ve known you have always had inside of you, and you used it. I’m so proud of you. There will never be a time when I’m not with you, son. Even when I pass away, you are a part of Ben Cartwright, always. That’s how it is with fathers and sons. We’re a part of each other. My raising you made you the man you are. As when you raise your son, you will pass it along. I’ll be in my grandson, as I am in you."

Joe grabbed hold tight, hugging his father and loving his wisdom. "Pa, you’ve helped me so much… in my life… and… now. Thank you."

The help his child needed was so easy for Ben to give. His amazement in Joe something he treasured always.

Finally the family was ready to leave Reno. Joe insisted on a horse and Ben acquiesced. Joe had gathered strength in his stay at the hotel and his doting family would make the ride home safe as well. They took it slow as they left Reno, no urgency this time in Joe. He looked around as his horse walked through the streets, his eye catching a sight as they traveled - a man with a boy no older than six. Joe smiled a moment remembering his boyhood with his own father. His heart quickly raced as he saw the next scene. It wasn’t his boyhood he was watching rather the one of another’s. The man roughly grabbed the child by the arm. He screamed in the boy’s face, "Quit that sniveling and be a man! Grow up or I’ll give you something to cry about! You think I have time to waste with this nonsense?"

Joe looked to his father, and then the brothers who loved him so. He was blessed. He realized this. He fought the thoughts that intruded. The thoughts he wanted to avoid. How many more fathers like the Stranger? How many more?