It was just past noon. The hike had taken them a little over three hours, with the last, steepest part the slowest going of all. JD had been dragging, but, truth be told, Buck was feeling the effects of the distance and altitude as well, so it had been easy not to push the kid. Nevertheless, Buck couldn't contain his excitement as they neared the top, and he couldn't stop himself from sprinting the last dozen yards.Buck scrambled up onto the tallest rock — a mere one foot high and three foot wide — and felt the rush of accomplishment as he surveyed the width and breadth of Colorado laid out before him. Pikes Peak wasn't the tallest mountain in the range — rising to only 14, 110 feet — but it was certainly the most famous and this climb was something Buck had wanted to make since moving to Denver.
All seven of them had taken Friday off from work; their latest ATF case was tightly wrapped up and A.D. Travis had given them a firm, "Take the day, you deserve it." So they'd all left together at dawn, Friday morning, for the camping trip — an entire weekend in the Rocky Mountains. However, today, Saturday, only JD had agreed to go hiking; the others all decided they'd rather spend the day fishing. That was fine with Buck. He'd never had a problem spending time with just JD. The kid was ... well, the best damn thing that ever pestered its way into his life. It was almost as if his life had no sound, no color before JD showed up. He felt like a kid again and he was savoring every moment of it.
"Come on, JD," he yelled over his shoulder. "You have to see this!" The view was amazing. And, as chilly as it was this high up, Buck still planned to spread out the blanket he'd brought and have a picnic lunch before they started back down.
"JD?" Buck turned, wondering why JD hadn't yet joined him on the rock. He scanned the entire plateau of the peak, but ... no JD. "JD!" He jumped off the rock, and headed back toward the trail.
As he reached the cut in the rocks, he finally saw JD, sitting down, leaning against a boulder. Buck stopped to catch his breath. For a moment, he'd feared the worst: that JD had stumbled, fallen on the last switchback, but he was obviously just tired.
"Come on, kid. You're missin' the view," he said, laughing a bit at his own over-reaction. Maybe the other fellas were right. Maybe he was a mother hen where JD was concerned. But, what the hell? It was only because he cared. "JD?"
He kneeled down next to the kid and took a closer look. JD's eyes were closed and he was breathing loudly, too loudly for the shallowness of his breaths. Buck tore off his glove and put a hand to the kid's forehead — warm, but not excessively so. He shook him by the shoulder. "JD?"
The kid's eyes came open and he gave a small smile.
"Tired?"
The kid nodded some, but Buck suddenly knew it had to be more than that, more than the climb, more than the altitude.
"You having trouble breathing?"
The kid nodded again. Buck put his ear to the kid's chest, but he couldn't hear a thing through the thick jacket. He unbuttoned it, and then pressed his ear to the flannel shirt JD was wearing. This time he could hear a rasping, a wheezing. That wasn't normal for JD.
"JD? You got asthma you never told me 'bout?"
The kid shook his head. "Not ... that ... i ... know ... of," he managed, though Buck had to keep his head close to catch the words.
"Sure sounds like asthma to me. I dated this girl once who—" Buck shook his head suddenly and shut up. Now was not the time to be talking about some old girlfriend. He had to do something.
He pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial. "Nathan? It's Buck. Got a problem. JD's not feelin' well," he said.
"Where are you two?" the team's medic asked.
Buck didn't have to look around before answering, but he did anyway. "Um, 'bout fourteen thousand feet."
"Shit. Okay, tell me exactly what's wrong."
He focused on the kid again. "He's pale — more than usual. He's breathing loud, but shallow. Sounds like asthma—"
"Asthma? JD don't have asthma; it would have been in his medical records."
"I know he don't. But, still sounds like it to me."
"Well, you're at altitude, and you left camp a good three hours ago. Possible it's just exhaustion, altitude sickness—"
"No, Nathan, it ain't. There's something wrong and there's no way he can make it back down this here hill, not the way he is right now." Buck knew both exhaustion and altitude sickness would wear off, given time, but.... "We don't have daylight enough to just wait and see if he feels better. Plus, what if it just keeps gettin' worse?"
"Buck, calm down. It'll be okay. Give the phone to JD. Let me talk to him."
"I am calm, Nate. But, here's JD: judge for yourself." He handed the phone to the kid, and it seemed like it was an effort for him just to lift the little piece of plastic up to his ear.
"Hi," the kid breathed, and Buck had to wonder if Nathan could even hear him. "No ... yes ... yes ... no ... yes." Then JD handed the phone back to Buck.
"Nathan?"
"Buck, can you tell if JD has a fever?"
"I don't think he does, though we're both warm and sweaty from the climb."
"Does he look ... bluish? Check his lips and his fingernails."
"Okay, hold on." Buck took the gloves off the kid's hands and examined his fingertips. The nails were bitten short, right down to the nail beds, but were they blue? Buck couldn't quite tell, so he held his own hand out next to JD's. God — this kid's hands were so small by comparison, his skin a good deal more pale, despite the amount of time he spent out in the sun. And his nails ... they weren't blue, but they weren't as pink as Buck's either. He quickly turned his attention to JD's lips; he ran his thumb over the lower one. It was pale, but, again, he couldn't exactly call it blue.
"Not really blue, Nate. But, not nearly as pink as usual."
"Okay, Buck, here's the deal. Chris has called this in. The rescue helicopter is on the way. Should be about.... Damn, that long, Chris? ...Okay, Buck, about an hour."
"An hour? Nathan, what if this gets worse? What if JD can't—"
"Buck, stay calm. It'll be okay. Just listen to me." Buck waited impatiently for Nathan to continue. "Buck? I need you to make sure JD is comfortable, sitting down. Keep him warm and sheltered from any wind. Give him small sips of water, even if he's not thirsty, just to keep him hydrated, but don't let him eat anything. Okay?"
"Yeah, Nathan. I can do that."
"Fine. Now, I want you to call me back in fifteen minutes and tell me how he's doing. Fifteen minutes, okay? Sooner, if he gets worse. Okay?"
"Okay, Nathan. Thanks." Buck ended the call and then slumped down next to JD. This couldn't be happening. It was just a hike. They'd gone on dozens of hikes. The kid was healthy. How could this suddenly happen?
He felt JD's ungloved hand fumbling against his own and realized they were both a bit cold. He intertwined their fingers and gave a little squeeze. "It's gonna be okay, kid. You're gonna be okay."
Buck then sat up and got to work. He put the gloves back on JD's small hands and did up his jacket again. Then he gave him a few sips of water from one of the canteens. He thought about moving him up to the plateau, but decide it best just to leave him be. There was no sense in moving him when he was more sheltered from the elements right where he was.
"Buck," JD whispered, but Buck put his fingers to the kids lips to keep him quiet.
"It's gonna be okay, kid. Don't talk. Just concentrate on breathing. They're sending a helicopter to take us back down."
"I don't want—"
"JD, quiet. The helicopter's comin' and that's that," he said, though he suddenly realized that might not be what the kid was going to say. I don't want to die, might be what was really on his mind at that moment. He put his arm around JD and pulled him close, until the kid's head was resting on his shoulder. "It's gonna be okay," he said again, and this time he was trying to convince them both.
"Nathan, it's Buck. JD sounds worse." It had only been ten minutes, but he had to call."He's having more trouble breathing than before?" Nate asked, far too calm, in Buck's opinion, given the situation, but that was Nathan Jackson.
"Yeah, he keeps shiftin' around ... I can't get him to sit still."
"Okay, Buck, try this. Um, get him to sit on your lap—"
"What?"
"Just do it. Have him face you, sitting on your lap. Okay? His legs need to straddle yours."
It wasn't that Buck minded JD sitting on his lap, not if it would help the kid. It was just, well ... strange to have Nathan telling him to do such a thing. He put the phone down on the ground for a moment, and then took JD by the shoulders. "Come on, kid. Need ya to sit in my lap." JD looked at him like he was crazy, but he didn't resist as Buck helped him into the new position. This easy acquiescence worried Buck — it meant JD was feeling worse than he was letting on.
"Okay, Nathan. This is weird, but JD's sittin' on my lap."
"Fine. Now, have him lean slightly forward, with his arms on your shoulders. This position will take the strain off his chest muscles, allowing more efficient air movement, which should make breathing easier for him."
"You okay now, JD?" Buck asked and the kid nodded his head. There was some relief reflected in his expression and that made Buck's heart calm. "I think it's helpin', Nate," he said back into the phone. "Thanks."
"That's okay, Buck. You just keep calling, whenever you need to. Chopper's lifted off and is on the way. ETA is ... forty-six minutes."
"Thanks, Nate. I'll keep you posted." He ended the call, wanting to conserve the battery, just in case. He tucked the phone back into his pocket, and then turned his attention to JD. The kid's face was now mere inches from his own. He had the sudden urge to kiss him, but mentally slapped himself for thinking such a thing. The kid was sick; this wasn't the time, even if it would be an incredible place....
He shook his head, trying to chase away the strange and inappropriate thoughts. JD looked at him; his eyes were so large and brown. He looked so helpless.... Buck leaned forward and pressed his lips to the kid's forehead. Then he ran his hands up the kid's sides to his back and rubbed up and down, hoping it might help ease his discomfort some. Eventually, JD leaned his head on Buck's shoulder, but otherwise remained still.
His breathing continued to be loud and raspy at the end of each exhale. It sounded exactly like last winter at work when, somehow, a piece of paper had been trapped in the air duct and it rattled every time the central heating kicked on. He smoothed JD's hair and just held him, wishing this day had turned out different.
"Nathan, it's Buck. JD's havin' trouble breathin' again.""He still sitting like I told you?" the medic asked and it riled Buck, though he knew it was a valid question.
"Yes, exactly like you told me. But now his eyes look red and his nose is all stuffed up."
"Well, this really does sound like an allergic reaction. Did he eat anything strange today — anything that he hasn't eaten before?"
Buck repeated the question to JD and the kid shook his head. "No, he says he hasn't."
"How about shellfish—"
"Up here?"
"Or strawberries, peanuts? How about chocolate?"
Buck listed these items to JD, but again the kid shook his head. "No, Nathan, nothin' like that. We've had water and ... and beef jerky. But that's it; we never got around to eating lunch."
"Jerky, huh? Could be one of the additives, a spice, or MSG...."
"But it's the same stuff we ate yesterday on the drive up. You had some in the car, right, JD?" The kid shook his head. "He said he didn't eat any yesterday, Nate."
"That might be the culprit then. Did he eat any right before he started feeling bad?"
Buck asked, but JD just shrugged.
"He's not sure. He did eat some, though; I saw him. We stopped about ... I don't know: ten or fifteen minutes before we reached the top, right before the last set of switchbacks."
"That's the most likely then. Still, could be an allergy to some plant which only grows at that altitude, or to some mold or ... who knows?"
"Nathan, how long 'til the chopper?"
"Ezra's checking."
"He's bad, Nate. Worse than before. Here, listen." Buck held the phone up so that the former Army medic could hear JD's breathing. It was loud. It sounded loud to Buck anyway and Buck knew that couldn't be good. "Hear it?"
"Yeah, Buck. It sounds worse. Look— Thanks, Ezra. Ezra says, thirty-two minutes. We've gotta try to ease JD's breathing. Can you make a fire, boil some water? Let him breath the steam, that might help."
"Nate, we're at fourteen thousand feet. The chopper will be here long before I get that water boiling."
He heard Nathan sigh into the phone. "You're right. Okay, the, ah, the only other option ... um, Buck, is...."
"Come on, Nate. If it's gonna help him, I'll do it!" Buck insisted. He really would do anything to help his friend.
"If he's having an allergic reaction ... if it's as bad as you say ... if it's getting worse...." Nathan's voice was growing quieter and this worried Buck. How bad could this be?
"Buck, you don't have to do this. It might not help him at all...."
"Nathan, just tell me. I can't decide if I'm gonna to do it or not until you tell me."
"Okay, look, for allergies, there are three things that are going to help: anti-histamines, steroids, and adrenaline. You don't have any of those. But ... you could, ah, help JD's body make some adrenaline."
"What?"
"I'm not suggesting you push JD off a cliff. However, a rush of adrenaline into his system is going to slow down the allergic reaction. It's what they do for bee stings — give a quick shot to mitigate both the swelling and the release of more histamines."
"I don't have a bee-sting kit, Nathan."
"I know. But ... God, how do I even suggest this? You don't have to do it. I'm not sure it'll help...."
"Nathan, spit it out before my cell phone dies."
"Okay, Buck. If you can, ah, get JD to masturbate, to actually ... come. It should cause his body to produce some adrenaline. It might help him."
"You want JD to.... Here?"
"I'm all out of ideas, Buck. That's it. The helicopter is still half an hour out. If you think he can hold on that long as bad as he is...."
"Ah, thanks, Nathan. I, ah, I'll call you back in a bit. Let you know how he's doin'." Buck ended the call. He couldn't believe what Nathan had actually suggested. It seemed ... absurd. Then again, he'd had enough adrenaline-racing moments on the job to know that there were parallels to what he felt during sex. Medically, he had no idea, but practically ... maybe it wasn't so absurd after all.
JD was still sitting on his lap. He knew the kid hadn't heard a thing Nathan had said. There would be some reaction on his face if he had, but the only emotion displayed was distress at not being able to get a good, full breath.
He moved his hand up to JD's hair again, smoothing the dark strands. "JD, you feelin' any better? Even a little bit?"
The kid shook his head, not even expending the energy to try to talk.
"There might be somethin' to, ah ... that might help." Buck was about to make the suggestion to the kid, but then the logistics of it all flashed through his mind. He'd have to move JD off his lap and let him lean against the boulder again, though he knew JD had had the most trouble breathing in that position. Then the kid would have to muster the energy, not just to get himself up, but to actually bring himself off. JD just seemed too weak. Buck didn't think the kid could manage it.
That's when Buck made the decision.
"JD," he said softly. "The helicopter won't be here for another thirty minutes...." He saw the kid's eyes go wide; real worry seemed to be creeping in around the edges. "I think there's a way to make you feel a little better, to maybe make the waitin' easier. Will you let me try?"
JD nodded, then his eyelids lolled low, tired. He leaned forward, placing his head on Buck's shoulder again. Buck slipped his hands to the front of JD's jacket and began undoing the buttons. The kid didn't move. He then slipped his hand down to JD's waist and undid first the belt buckle and then the top button on his pants. JD sat up again, his breathing even more raspy, but his eyes no longer tired. He stared at Buck.
"This is supposed to make you feel better. Supposed to ease the reaction. Don't ask me to explain how," he said, not knowing if the kid would allow him to continue. He wouldn't blame JD one bit if he put a stop to it right now. This certainly wasn't something that Buck would allow just anyone to do and JD was far more uptight about this sort of thing than Buck.
Nevertheless, JD just nodded before leaning his head against Buck's shoulder again. The kid was agreeing, but Buck had to wonder if JD really knew what he was about to do to him.
Buck unzipped the fly on JD's pants, and then carefully reached inside. The kid was wearing boxers, so it was easy to find the slit in the fabric and then to reach inside. He carefully slipped his fingers around JD's penis, which wasn't as flaccid as Buck had expected it to be. He gave a couple of very gentle squeezes and felt the shaft swell against his palm. Then he began to stroke.
However, the sensation wasn't pleasant in his palm, and he guessed it couldn't be any more pleasant for JD. Sweat had made them both sticky, so Buck brought his hand up to his mouth and licked his palm. Then he slipped his fingers back inside JD's shorts and again found his penis. He was a bit stiffer this time, which surprised Buck, though, in truth, he didn't know what to expect out of this whole thing. The last thing he ever wanted to do when he was sick was jerk off....
He began to move his hand up and down JD's penis. The kid shifted slightly in his lap, but did not pull away. Buck continued stroking. He could hear JD; his breathing was becoming more rapid, almost gasping, but he didn't seem to be struggling any harder for air. Buck kept going, pulling a bit, slipping his hand over the firm flesh, rubbing his thumb around the head ... doing all the things he would normally do to himself; even the angle, with JD straddling his legs, was similar.
Buck closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was stroking himself, tried to do what he thought would feel good. His own penis began to swell in his trousers and he had to shift slightly to ease the pressure. God, if only JD were stroking him—
Buck forced his eyes open, forced himself to remember why he was doing this to JD, to his friend.
Suddenly, he felt JD's hips jerk forward and realized he was having a positive effect, at least on this part of JD's anatomy. He wondered if this was going to accomplish what Nathan suggested it might: if so, then sex was a more amazing thing than Buck had ever imagined.
JD jerked his hips forward again, as he tightened his arms around Buck's neck. The kid was gulping air now, blowing it out in raspy puffs. Buck increased the cadence of his strokes, while he kept his other hand on JD's back, holding him securely and he gently rubbing up and down along his spine.
Buck felt the first droplets slick his thumb as he moved it over the tip. He took the time to spread the liquid along JD's shaft, making the effort to work over the smooth skin. He knew what the action must feel like to JD; it was exactly what he would do, were he alone and doing this to himself. But, he still couldn't believe he was doing this to JD.
The kid jerked his hips forward again and let out a strangled gasp that seemed to echo along the mountain range. Buck felt some warm liquid coat his hand and knew the rest was now splattered on their clothing. He'd have to clean them up, but ... in a minute. He wasn't done yet. He knew JD wasn't done yet, either. Buck was still stroking over his penis, still working the tissue until he felt it begin to soften. Only then did he still his movements, though he did not pull his hand away.
He waited, listening. He could hear JD breathing against his shoulder: the breaths were rapid, but a little deeper than they had been, and that disturbing rattle was gone. Buck smiled. Un-fucking-believable.
He fished in his pocket for a handkerchief, and then used it to clean up JD and himself. Despite what Nathan had told him, he just didn't think he could explain this to the paramedics when they finally arrived. He wondered how much longer that would be.
Buck knew he should call Nathan, to give him the good news — JD was feeling better, breathing better — but he just couldn't. Not yet. He'd call as soon as he heard the blades of the helicopter approaching. Until then, he just wanted to sit here, just wanted to keep holding JD, caressing his back, stroking his hair, and listening to him breathe.
The End
October 2002Please do NOT repost this story anywhere, for any reason.Characters from "The Magnificent Seven" were used without permission and this story in no way signifies support of, or affiliation with, The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, or CBS Worldwide, Inc. The M7-ATF universe was created by Mog, and extra thanks go to her for allowing other people to play within it. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story will not be sold for any reason.