He huddled together and tried to draw warmth to his limbs. He shivered, cramped muscled pleaded for movement. There was no sensation left in his fingers; his hands and feet were completely numb. He slid his hands inside his shirt and under his armpits but to no avail; frozen fingers only met cold skin.
I'm dying
JD sighed and thought of Buck. Buck who was gonna be so pissed when they'd find him. Pissed, because he had managed to freeze to death 5 miles from town.
"I swear it ain't my fault, Buck. Horse got bit by a rattler and threw me. I walked and walked until I couldn't go on no more."
"That was a mighty foolish thing, kid. You coulda taken food or a blanket. Hell son! Some matches at least!"
JD sighed again and rested his head on his knees, enjoying the slight warmth of his own exhalations against his skin.
He didn't want to die. How many times had that thought already crossed his mind since coming to Four Corners? It flitted through his brain in every gunfight, ever stand-off. He wasn't afraid of death. The thing was familiar enough. He just wasn't ready to go, not just yet. And not like this. Not alone.

His eyes grew heavy; sleep drew close, caressing him with feathered fingers. Stubbornly, he fought the dreaded foe off for a little while longer. He wouldn't give in yet. He wasn't quite ready yet. Needed to do some more thinking. He felt very calm inside. The peace of mind a man has when he knows nothing will save him anymore.
It was too late for him now. There was hardly any feeling, any pain left in his battered, tired body. It was ready to let go if his mind would let it.
Soon enough...

His thoughts drifted towards Buck and Chris, to those six men, these brothers, family. It hurt to be the first to go, to be the one to break up the Seven. But still, better him than one of the others. After losing his mother, he wasn't sure he could stand losing more kin. He was glad he wouldn't have to find out. Another reason he didn't mind the dying bit all that much.
He was sorry though, he was gonna hurt Buck. He cared the most. Had, almost from the very beginning, given a fuck whether he lived or died. Had risked his life to save him, taking on that sabre. Had cared. Always.
JD knew Buck loved him and , even though it was a strange thing to consider, knew his death would hurt his friend some.
Turn to Josiah, Buck. Whatever it is, he'll help. He helped me when I was losing myself. You and Josiah kept me from drowning after...Annie... He'll help you keep your balance. And Ezra. Talk to Ezra. He cares more than you might think. Catch him late at night with some liquor in him and he'll take off that pokerface. He'll show you...

His stomach hurt. The cold was reaching deep inside of him now. His organs protested against the icy dull fingers invading and gripping them, but they were losing the fight. The pain brought him out of his death sleep a little. He whimpered when the cramps tore through his midriff. Suddenly, he wanted to start crying and call for his mother to take him in her arms and soothe him. Or Buck, to cuff him on the head and tuck him in and sit with him. He didn't want to die alone. He hated being alone. Always had, always would. He needed to feel a pat on his shoulder, a warm hand against his cheek, a voice whispering comfort into his ear, a presence by his side.
A dry sob escaped him and made him frown. He was not gonna cry. The others would not find him with tearstains on his face. He refused to waste the last moments of his life crying!
He inhaled deeply, careful of the cramps but they already ebbed away. Numbness, blessed relief, spread again covering him with dark wings. He fought a losing battle. He fought...

Buck lay in his bed and tossed. He had settled on his right side 28 seconds ago but opted to turn over to his other side while kicking at the blanket. Five seconds passed...twenty...one minute...Buck sighed and grumbled something vaguely threatening before rolling over on his stomach. Thirty-six seconds later, he was on his back staring at the ceiling. Well, he would've been staring at the wooden beams if the room hadn't been shrouded in darkness. Now, his field of vision was encompassed by the black night.
Stray, unfinished sentences, half-words flitted on the surface of his thoughts. A swarm of waterbugs on a pond, quick, intangible, off. He was unable to catch them, grasping at them, at their meaning. They were worry, worried...about JD.
Buck didn't even know why JD entered his thoughts all of the sudden. He was pretty sure he'd been meaning to think about that sweet gal he'd seen yesterday, so why was JD on his mind?

A current of cold rippled over his skin and he shivered. Pulling the blankets a little higher, he glanced at the closed window and frowned. A part of his mind went off on a tangent about the state of wooden buildings, badly closing window frames and gaps in the walls while the basest part of him kept drooling all over that pretty missus.
JD's face intruded on all those thoughts again.
Buck's frown deepened. Now why was he thinking about that boy? Kid was holed up all warm and toasty in the Eagle Bend boarding house.
In the cold, hurt, freezing...
He gasped loudly. Damn! Where the hell did that come from? The swarm of flittering thoughts grew denser, buzzing like enraged bees. He reached out, straining to reach them, grasping wildly at them.
Cold, cold, pain , fear
His raw lungs pulled at the air. He tried to concentrate on JD, laying all his love for the boy into it.
Cold...Numb now...Peace...Sadness, so much sadness...Dying, dying, dying...

Buck sat bolt upright in bed. In a frenzy, he pulled on clothes and gunbelt haphazardly and stormed out of the dark, fear drenched room.

Josiah sat on the porch of the church and let his eyes drift over the dark town. He was aware of the cold but his heavy poncho kept the intruder away from his bones. His exhalations created little temporary clouds in the air as he sat there. The night hung like a frozen blanket over the wooden houses.

It was an old feeling that had jarred him from his sleep and driven him out in the middle of this mighty cold night. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since after fightin' in the Seminole village. But he still knew it. It sat in his bones, cold and wary.
Dark shadows flitted over and through his vision, fast as arrows. The dry rustle of wing beats filled his ears. An occasional soft croak broke the velvet silence further.
The crows were here. They sat perched around him on the porch, the dust and the roof. A large flock, staring at them with beady eyes that shone coolly.
The harbingers of death.
He sat there, quiet as the mountains and waited. Josiah knew the birds weren't there for him, but that someone he cared about was in grave danger. Some of the birds hopped around, nervously cawing. Another ruffled its feathers; black feathers glistening like a starry night, those ebony feathers, black as JD's hair, JD's...JD.
He breathed in all of the long winter's cold nights.
Oh dear Lord, not JD
The crows let out a simultaneous deafening caw and flew up, filling the air with whispered wing beats and mocking croaks.
He needed to warn....somebody...Chris? Buck! He tried to get out of his chair but his numb, shocked limbs refused to cooperate. The impact of the knowledge stunned him.

He concentrated all his fear, all his fury, all his care for the boy and stumbled out of the seat and down the porch. The sound of a slammed door stopped him. Buck stormed towards the livery, pale, grim-faced. Fleetingly, their eyes met, understood.
Josiah followed in Buck's wake, praying the never-granted prayer.

JD was lost now. The cold and dark-winged one had overtaken him. All the will in the world hadn't been able to hold it off any longer. When the dark shape came to collect him, he acquiesced and let it take him by the hand. It wrapped heavy wings and peace around him and led him away. He no longer looked back.

The moon sat harsh in the onyx sky. The pale light shone over the blue, eerie desert, illuminating the cold world. It shimmered over the rocks and boulders, sparkled over the ground and dry grass and caressed the still, pale body of the young man huddled together.
And far away in the distance, it glanced off the two men thundering across the mesa, spurring on their horses in desperation.