Death Follows Him

Summary: Little Joe is found by his family after an Indian raid, and things aren't good for Joe either way.
Warning: SJS fans come forward
Rating K+
Feeback: And and all welcome

I crawled to the oasis that lay near. I couldn't help but feel dizzy, and the hallucinations I had been having weren't helping.

Out of the shining sun came three men on horseback, but before I could react they were gently holding me down. They were all calling Joe frantically… but how would they know my name.

With little strength that I had left I tried to fight them. My left knuckle bashed into a man which appeared to have a black hat. He didn't seem to be in any pain or even react to the punch I gave him. I wouldn't let these men attack me like this any longer, so I stumbled over, and began crawling back to the oasis. If they want to kill me that's fine, but they aren't going to kill me until I was guaranteed the water I have been looking for these past days.

"No I need water," I yelled still crawling. The water looked like a diamond shimmering against the bearing sun. Only making me crawl towards it more, but the men grabbed me again still trying to hold me down once more. A big fellow held me down with his iron grip. So strong it was no use to fight especially with the smaller, yet strong man also holding me. Behind me was an older man. He looked even more frantic than the other two. The gray haired fellow grabbed a canteen...oh yes a canteen...which meant water.

They still called my name repeating it once, twice, three times. I opened my mouth to try and talk, but the dryness made it to much work. The only thing you could here from my voice was a small mumble which was supposed to be asking who they were.
The guy that was dressed in all black and the man with a ten gallon hat lowered me to the ground. The older brother wiped my dry lips off, and took a finger to my lips trying to pry it open gently; just like you would do to a baby. The big fellow held my head up, and finally they allowed their gracious water into my delirious, injured body.
~*~

"There you go little brother," one of them said letting my head down, but I couldn't refuse the water that filled into my dry, cracked lips. I grabbed the canteen with my good arm, and quickly gulped as much as I could down before the oldest of the group took it from me, for the other two were too shocked to see my sudden movement.

He pulled off a bandanna from his neck, and drenched it with water. He pressed it to my head. "We have to get his temperature down, or he'll never make it out here." He kept drenching it, yet again putting it to my head. "Boys go fill the canteens up," the middle aged man ordered. He pulled me into a fatherly embrace, and talked to me as his voice quivered. "Joe...Joe listen to me son...your alright now...we're trying to get your temperature down." His hands caressed my hair as he almost cried talking.

I felt as the black hat man carried me upon a brown colored horse. The man now and then would giddy the horse into a faster speed quietly whispering "Giddy on up Sport."
The other men were closely ahead of him. They constantly looked back to see the two of us as we rode along. They asked questions like "How's he coming along, Adam," only for the man named Adam to answer in a desperate tone "Not so well his fevers gone up, and the arrow in his shoulder has to some out soon."

"Pa why don't we settle down somewhere for the night," the big fellow suggested stopping his horse at a halt.

"Yeah we probably should Joe is getting worse the more hours we travel," the one they called pa replied hesitantly looking around even though there wasn't much to see except the blazing sun, the itchy dust, and every now and then a cactus.

We trotted along. Every minute began to become more agony then the next. My body ached like burning slowly in a fire. No opening just you and the fire that slowly burns the skin and flesh off, and the entire pain doesn't end quickly. Instead it just keeps torturing you as you hear you're loved ones calling your name trying to help, the pounding in your ears as it swallows you whole, and your own screaming that is making you slowly curse until you are to dead to do no more.

I began to whimper as the bedeviled pain came back and forth in waves.

"It's alright buddy," this so called Adam comforted. The big one came over seeming to try and help with something.

"Alright now shortshanks we're going to get you off this horse and settled down."

I tried to answer and ask questions that I have been longing to ask for hours, but my mouth seemed to talk without words coming out. The only thing I could do to answer these strong men was a little moan.

"Don't worry Little Joe we'll get you fixed up in no time."

Little...Joe the nickname sprang into my head. It didn't exactly make sense to where it came from, but it seemed familiar enough to take to. Before I could remember more I was drawn in with more agony as they carried me from the horse.

~*~

"Lay him down here!" One of the men ordered still focusing on me, which I was more than glorious about. I could feel the tender blanket being pressed against my skin, and the aroma of beans and bacon that filled the air. Only as I laid there half awake, half asleep did I finally realize how much trouble I was in. I tried focusing on the subject that held me together earlier. Only to let my own pains push me back again.

I felt the pain still bolting through my body. The pain grew more intense. Racking my insides with a bleak shallow feeling, just like being blown away.

"Joe," someone called. "We're going to get this arrow out of your shoulder."

Before I could prepare I felt the arrow. I felt my body being tugged on, slowly the arrow made its way though my bloodied flesh, and along with it was the unwanted, slippery, smelly stench of blood that erupted without leading.

I moaned feeling it all at once. I couldn't feel what was about to come next, but I was directed. "Little Joe were just getting you patched up now."

The name caught me off guard again. I knew the name. I knew it from the beginning, and realized my family must be with me. Oh yes, yes it was them. I saw Adam his hazel, almost brown eyes staring down at me with seriousness. He always is the one with to much worry, but his face explained a different story. Usually his face didn't explain a story, but this time his looks were grounded with doubtfulness, sorrow, and tear strikers.

All my mind could think about is his face. The looks on all three of them, I couldn't stand the sight. I just couldn't look. Their backs turned from me as they began wrapping up items they carried with them in their saddle bags.

My hand reached towards my beloved family, "H-help...n-need...w-water." All three of them looked puzzled, like they thought they heard a cat clawing a concrete wall. "H-help...w-water," my hoarse voice croaked.

Pa noticed me first. The man I loved dearly grabbed the canteen from his horse, and tilted my head skyward. The warm water slid across my dreaded tongue, the clear liquid filled my whole mouth, and slowly sloped down my throat.
~*~
The sweaty clothes that I have worn for more than a week now clutched my skin. I heard the knocking of the horse feet, and the muttering in back of me. I only got a small look before I fell into another delirious state.
~*~

Everything seemed so quiet, content like. Only I heard someone calling me before I could head for it. It was pa. Gently whispering, hushing. So soothing as his callused hand caressed my sweaty over heated curls.

"Everything is alright now Joe we've got a doc." To me it was obvious. I felt something sticking in my mouth. It was cold, but as I tried sucking on the iced metal it became like a summer sun.

"He's overheated." The doc violently shook thermometer with his head. "Get some ice near the mercantile!"

Before I knew it I was placed under a thin cover. It timidly stuck against the repetitive water that soaked my open chest. Before I could perceive anything more, nothing but more came to me. Chilly, almost cool, slippery blocks touched against me. I wish someone would have said something before dumping something so cold, so fast.

Before talking I was overwhelmed at how light my skin felt. More frosty feeling, but still fire burning, warm might be it.

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"Pa Indians...soldiers," I unknowingly murmured. "No way out...tied...food...dead by sundown." My dreams flashed.

I heard Indian signals. I couldn't find a way out. Not with my horse anyways, but even with my animal friend I wouldn't make it. The horse was faster than my running by a long shot. Running would only get me so far. Instead I used my reins, and sped through the two Indians only to get shot by a long rooted arrow. I concocted the feeling that poured thorough my shoulder. I struggled onto Cooch again. I headed for a small hideaway that was sheltered between grasses and rocks.

Not long I noticed Union soldiers hiding behind boulders that were larger than life. Rifles pointed out, and bodies sprawled over the land before them. It couldn't be hard for them to shoot the two Indians that attacked me.

I was wrong. More whooping, and roaring gun shots were fired. At least a hundred Indians came galloping down the dusty path.

"This can't be happening," my mind roared. War was coming. Shots were beginning to be shot across the desert territory. One, two, no now sixteen Indians lay before me. Blood gooping out of the soft burgundy flesh. More shots were fired, and more and more sprawled to the sandy surface. All in a matter of minutes.
How? Why? Why... how was this happening? All I was supposed to do was get some horses from Sweet water, and then come back. Back to my cozy home. Where trees touched the sky. Where mountains cried with snow, and where my family and I knew as heaven.
"Joe...Little Joe!" I heard a baritone yell. "Joe stop it your all right now!"

No...I'm not. I can still hear the firing that was being charged at by innocent earthlings. I can still feel the fire that doesn't want to stop from angering me. I can still hear whooping of people, screaming from others. It all scares me.

Someone's opening a door. They all seem panicky. Especially the guy in the white lab coat. The petite lady standing near him seems nervous. Her deep blue eyes looking dubious.
Then there's my brother's and Pa. Pa looks tired. He looks like he is trying to find an answer to something that isn't even in sight. Adam looks horrified. His face seems to be growing with more and more with expression. Hoss...Hoss looks like he's keeping tabs on someone. Don't know who though.

"Joe!" Good lord stop yelling. I may not always listen, but at the pitches all your voices are on I may just go deaf for a good cause. And would you get your hands off me, it feels like I'm a tree being hit by an axe over, and over again.

"Get more bandages, alcohol, and boil some more water!" The unfamiliar croaked lecture came. "Mr. Cartwright he's gone into convulsions. His fevers to high. At this point I'll need to ask for your permission to perform surgery. If not he'll most likely lose his life."

My eyes were secretly slivered, so that I could see little things that were happening around me. Pa aimlessly shook his head. He looked helpless at what to do.

"What is supposed to be performed?" he questioned still with the "how could this be happening" look. Adam stood near him looking the same way. Knowing what was happening, but not sure what to do. Hoss...where is he. I just wonder where because after all this commotion I still haven't seen him, but I could still feel my body jerking without me, and meaty hands on my abs.

"He has an abscess in his shoulder. It seems as though the medicine didn't work. The infection in his shoulder is continually growing as we speak. Now I am certified in this field, and have done it numerous times in my medical career."

"I don't know." Simple answer came from my pa's mouth. Then right there he walked out of the room. Adam stayed though. He looked at the doctor. His solemn eyes caressed me even if they weren't looking straight at me.

"How can I trust you when my brother's life is on the line?" my brother Adam looked up still facing the doctor with close attention at hand.

"I've told you already. I am certified in this field, and have performed in on numerous people in my medical career." The slimy doctor croaked again.

If he was a doctor why couldn't he cure his pestering voice that made my ears ache, or the wart that was noticeably under his nose? I am sure if my brother's heard my thoughts right now they would tease me at how big my ears are. Pa told me when I was little they would grow in to fit my head, but at this point I'm giving up hope on it. Even though I may not like it the girls say they find it cute. They tell me it gives them something to latch onto when kissing a man, and helps men listen to their problems.

"How old is the boy again?" the doctor asked.

Adam looked at him indefinitely, but answered the question short and outraged. "He's sixteen why?

"I thought he was young. Through law I need someone over twenty-one to sign papers saying he is under the care of me while surgery. Now since your pa seems tired and worried I need someone else to sign."

Adam looked annoyed, but answered. "Alright you so called doctor, but if anything happens to my brother it will be specifically your fault."

"I know that's why you will sign the contract." Yeah you look all intelligent, but my brother is smarter, and not snot nosed like some people.

I still can't understand what is going on. Something about an abscess, papers, and something troubling.
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I can feel cold, slippery solid blocks on me again. A thin sheet is placed atop of me. Little chatter is being held in the room. I hear them though. My family. I want to join in too, but can't feel the strength to do so. Giving a little moan caused everyone to face me.

Foot steps followed, and then I heard a muffling in my ear. I couldn't understand it. I tried answering, but didn't even try to speak, for I knew it would be led to nothing coming out.

The room felt colder again. I could feel myself trembling. More footsteps came, and then the originally cold blocks were taken off. The wet sheet came off, and I felt a towel being swept over my cooled chest. The wetness was gently being cleaned up.

More noises came. I could hear Adam sighing for thanks, and Hoss he's gasping joyfully. I just don't get what's going on.

"Young man I'm going to give a shot of morphine. This will only be a minute." What are you talking about morphine? If pa found out I was taking morphine he'd skin me alive even if I was sixteen. Oh god, the pain. It surged through my arm. Then unofficially went away. My hand didn't do much, but my throat told me I was thirsty. Taking my left arm I began searching for a glass of water. Not far from getting it my arm was pushed back to my side. As I felt my arms being pulled under the blanket again I could smell something. It smelled foul. It had to be right in front of me. It just had to.

Then it was gone. What had to be on my face was a mask, but a mask of what.
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"Well Mr. Cartwright your son's gone through it very well. I've given him a shot of morphine. That should keep the pain away for quite awhile." I heard the pig headed doc say from a distance. Right now the morphine he gave me isn't working.

I could feel strength, or at least enough to open my eyes fully. "Pa..." I said seeing them all sitting patiently in the room.

"Well young whippersnapper it's about time you've woken up." I smiled a little despite the pain.

"Hi pa." I said trying to not quiver while saying it.

"Well you sure put us through a world of scare." What do you mean? It's obvious something has happened, but what? The images of Indians and Soldiers came to me again.