Disclaimer: I own no rights, but then, they had no rights takin’ our fellas away from us, so there!
Notes: It’s ATF, it’s C/V, it’s H/C… none of these should surprise any of you.
Warnings: Depiction of rape, scenes of sickness (why do I keep makin’ the poor man throw up?), general violence and mayhem, all directed toward Vin Tanner.
Dedication: Written for the Black ‘n’ Buckskin Adult list to celebrate May birthdays. Since there’s only one that I know of – Erin’s – I’ll just say HAPPY BIRTHDAY LADY! She shares Mr. Close’s birthday, but I don’t think he’d appreciate this particular gift ;)
Vin Tanner loved the peace of the pre-dawn streets. He sprinted along through the darkness, splashing through the puddles left behind by the rain of a few hours earlier. He wore worn jogging clothes and running shoes, his long, chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail. The streets of Purgatorio weren’t the safest in Denver by any means, but they were part of his turf… his home.Chris was asking him more and more often to move somewhere safer. And lately that ‘safer place’ was out at the ranch. They had professed their feelings about one another over a year ago and they had known one another for more than two. In all that time he hadn’t been able to make the older man understand just how important it was to him to stay where he was. The apartment, his belongings, they meant home to him. After a lifetime of having nowhere that word described, giving it up wasn’t something he could do. Not even if the man who meant more to him than anyone else ever had, asked him to.
Besides, he was an agent with the Denver branch of the ATF; a former Ranger and former bounty hunter. There wasn’t much he couldn’t face… or face down.
The Texan slowed as he felt a few raindrops land on his head and shoulders. He paused to look up into the dark sky, seeing the shadow of clouds covering the last few stars of the night. Heaving a sigh, he realized he would need to cut his run short. Taking a quick check of his surroundings, he plotted his new route. It would take him through back to back empty lots, but would cut the rest of his route in half.
Shifting direction accordingly, he sprinted across the deserted street and into the first lot. Dodging litter and other things he didn’t care to dwell on, the slender man felt the mud pulling at him, slowing him just a little. He was at the far edge of the first lot quickly and made his way across the alley to enter the second.
Halfway across, just as his sense of self-preservation kicked in, the shadows around him began to move. He barely began to react when something hard caught him across the jaw and neck, dropping him to the ground. He gasped, suddenly unable to draw a decent breath. Tanner struggled to get to his feet, only to find himself flat on his back once more. He was trying to make sense of things, but couldn’t calm his mind long enough to put together a coherent thought. All he knew was that there was pain showering down on him from all sides, which at some level registered as a multitude of fists, feet and he wasn’t certain what else. All that he did know was that it hurt like hell. He did his best to defend himself and then after the pain began to get the best of him, to protect himself. After what seemed like an eternity, all he could do was lay there and try not to scream.
That lethargy, born of pain, disappeared when he realized that his clothes were being torn from his body. Striking out at anything he could reach, he growled. It only seemed to spur them on. He heard laughter, hard and heartless, all around him. Tears burned in his eyes as he fought against his attackers, determined that they wouldn’t do what he knew they intended.
His determination wasn’t enough.
They shoved him over, face down, in the mud. He felt hands grabbing him, holding him down spread eagle against the ground. Then, screaming into the mud, he felt something penetrate him.
“Like that, Tanner? Feel good? That’s what Teddy felt… every day for five years… because of you. You sent him to that hellhole, and those bastards did this to him every day. Every day ‘til he couldn’t take it no more. Every day ‘til my brother hung himself in his own cell.”
The voice continued to taunt him. He didn’t recognize it, but the name ‘Teddy’ drew some vague memories to mind. The pain was too intense for him to hold onto them, however.
“You like it? You want more? Heard you take it like this. Heard you’re a fuckin’ faggot. You a faggot, Tanner? You like this?”
He tried again to fight off the hands that held him down. It only brought him more pain. He growled… screamed really. It was all he could do.
“Yeah, fight it. Fight it… I’ll give it to you harder. C’mon… fight!”
“Jesse! I hear sirens!” A voice near the battered man’s head broke his main attacker’s concentration. The assault faltered, the pain lessened. He whimpered as whatever had been shoved inside him was yanked forcefully from his body.
“FUCK! C’mon, we gotta get outta here!”
The voice that had taunted him now sounded frightened. He felt the hands release him, heard several pairs of feet running. Running away. He tried to move, wanting to find somewhere to hide. His flight response had kicked into high gear, and all he could think to do was to get away. His body wouldn’t respond to that need, though. Then he cried out, struggling to get away as he felt hands touching him again.
“It’s okay, calm down.”
The voice was soft and feminine, but he didn’t recognize it. He tried to speak, but couldn’t make the words come. The voce continued, while the hands touched him gently, stroking through his matted hair. He began to calm and, as he did, realized just how much pain he was in.
And it was becoming harder and harder to breathe.
“I need a cervical collar and a trach kit over here, STAT!” The voice called out, no longer softly.
He reached out, grabbing at the first thing he touched. It was a hand, and he felt slender fingers wrap around his. He clung to them as panic set in. A single phrase screamed through his mind. “CAN’T BREATHE CAN’T BREATHE CAN’T BREATHE!”
“Sir? You need to calm down, now, okay? Just calm down. We’re gonna get you to the hospital as quick as we can. Just calm down…”
<C/V>
Chris Larabee paced back and forth along the perimeter of the intensive care waiting room. He didn’t see the other occupants watching him with some trepidation. He didn’t see his friends watching him with concern. He saw only one thing; the face of his younger lover as they wheeled him into ICU.
The side of Vin’s face was swollen and distorted. His head and neck were held immobile. They had wired his jaw shut. There was a trach tube protruding from his throat. The rest of his body was battered and bloodied, bandaged and wrapped. Nothing was life threatening the doctor said.
How could they know that simply seeing the carnage visited upon his soul mate had already torn the heart from his chest? Life threatening? Hell, it had nearly killed him.
“Chris?”
He suddenly realized that someone was calling his name. Had been calling his name for a few minutes. He turned toward that voice and found Buck standing a few feet away, watching him. He stopped, waiting for his old friend to continue.
“They just called visitation.” Buck watched as his friend quickly processed those four words and nodded, all but running from the room. The tall brunet followed behind, knowing that someone would need to be nearby to coax the blond back out of the little cubicle of a room.
<C/V>
He looked down at the figure in the bed, trying to recognize his partner lying there. Try as he might, all he could see was a disfigured body, as impersonal as if he were looking at a store mannequin. He reached out tentatively, brushing his fingertips over the cool flesh… through the recently washed hair… over the closed eyelids. He felt the face beneath his touch twitch, tensing slightly as the sleeping man approached some semblance of consciousness.
“Vin?” He whispered the name, not certain why. “Vin? You with me?”
Tanner moved, dry lips parting slightly, moving in an effort to form words. Larabee pressed his fingers lightly against them. “Sh, don’t try to talk, Pard. You’re gonna be okay, but you’ve got a trach and your jaw’s wired shut.”
If the injured man registered the information he didn’t show it. His movements stilled as he drifted back toward deeper sleep. Chris watched, his heart sinking as his partner grew quiet once more. He would give anything to see those beautiful blue eyes opened and clear again. Brushing his fingers through the tangle of loose curls, he murmured, “You’re gonna be fine, Cowboy. Just fine. And I’m gonna be right beside you to take care of you. We’ll get through this, I swear.”
Unbidden, tears filled the haunted, hazel eyes. He could only hope that those words would come true.
<C/V>
For two days Chris sat vigil at the hospital, waiting for his partner to awaken. From time to time, Vin’s eyes would blink open briefly, but there was no sign that he was truly conscious. Despite the lack of recognition, the blond would talk softly; doing everything he could to comfort his lover. He felt his heart lurch each time those big, beautiful, blue eyes turned in his direction. Then it would threaten to stop when those eyes closed once more.
Finally the injured man was able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. He seemed confused at first, unable to figure out where he was or what had happened. With a patience most people would never equate with him, Chris explained over and over, each time Tanner woke up. Slowly the facts began to fall into place. He stared up at the blond with a pain-filled expression as the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Then shame darkened his features.
Vin remembered being raped.
Reaching out, Larabee gently took one hand, rubbing his thumb over the bruised knuckles. “It’s going to get better, Cowboy, I promise you that. I’m right here, and I’ll be here. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. You remember one thing, Pard. You’re not in this alone. Understand?”
Slowly, Vin nodded.
Larabee watched his young partner for a full minute, studying the battered, but still handsome, face. The walls were coming up, though. He recognized them; had a lot of experience in building them himself. His lover was withdrawing, like a wounded animal. Instinct told him to hole up and lick his wounds.
Squeezing the hand he held, the blond said softly, “Vin, listen to me. Don’t shut me out. Please.”
The bedridden man simply returned the gaze, holding it for a moment before closing his eyes once more.
<C/V>
“Are you certain he’s ready to be discharged?” Chris drilled a hazel-hued stare through the doctor standing on the other side of the hospital bed. Between them, he was aware of an azure-hued glare pointed in his direction. He wasn’t about to let it detour him, though. He wanted to make very sure that Vin was well enough to leave the hospital.
“He’s doing fine. As long as he has someone with him for the next two or three days, there shouldn’t be a problem.” Neil Grant regarded the blond with a calm façade. He couldn’t help feeling his heart beating faster than he would like, though. He had experienced almost daily run-ins with the rather formidable man over the past six days.
“It hasn’t even been a week, his jaw is wired shut, and you only took that damned tube out of his throat three days ago. That doesn’t sound like someone ready to be discharged.” Larabee stopped when he felt a hand gripping his wrist. Looking down, he saw Tanner staring at him with a deadly expression. Changing his tone slightly, he said, “I know you want to go home, Pard, but I just don’t think you’re ready.”
Vin nodded impatiently and grabbed the white board and marker they had given him a couple of days ago. Painstakingly, his dyslexia more evident than usual, he wrote, “Going hoem you studdorn fol.”
Shaking his head, Larabee said, “I don’t think I’m the stubborn fool here, Tanner.”
Barely repressing a smile, the doctor said, “I’m not insensitive to your concerns, Agent Larabee. However, I would appreciate it if you would trust that I’m capable of doing my job. The nurse is finishing the discharge orders now and, as soon as Vin signs them, he’ll be free to leave. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see some other patients.”
Watching the doctor leave the room, Chris settled a hip on the edge of the bed, looking down at his partner. Reaching out, he gently stroked a hand through the disheveled locks. Catching the other man’s gaze, he said softly, “Look, it’s not that I don’t want you home, Pard. It’s just that I want to make certain that you’re safe. If you really think you’re well enough to leave, then I’ll take you home, okay? You can come stay with me at the ranch for a while… as long as you want.”
The injured man had one thought rolling through his mind, over and over. “Home”. Instincts honed by years with no one to watch his back pushed him to hide out; to hole up in his own space while he healed. They were instincts that had faded over the past few years, since being drawn into the midst of the circle of friends and co-workers dubbed “The Magnificent Seven”. But they were back in force as he struggled to deal with his violation.
He just had to find a way to make his boss and lover understand that.
Opportunity rang a few seconds later when Larabee’s cell phone went off. With an irritated growl the blond answered it, treating the prone man to his terse end of the conversation.
“Larabee… What?... What the hell are they thinking?... No… Where?... What’s that idiot planning?... Yeah… Yeah… O… Okay!... All right, I’ll be there.”
Disconnecting the call and shoving the cell phone in his pocket, Chris turned back to the Texan. “I’ve got to go. The Peterson operation just heated up. Ezra just called in, we’ve got to be ready in an hour. I’ll be back as soon as I can, all right? Just hang tight, Cowboy.”
Vin nodded, reaching out and squeezing the other man’s arm before turning back to his board. Slowly he wrote, “Wach yur back.”
Smiling, Larabee glanced over his shoulder before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on the other man’s forehead. Looking deeply into the deep-set eyes, he whispered, “I will. Be back soon as possible, okay?”
Even as Tanner nodded, he was forming a plan.
<C/V>
Vin stopped midway up the third set of stairs leading to his apartment. He was trembling and finding it difficult to breathe. He was also re-thinking his plan. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, though. He had signed the paperwork and listened to the nurse as she read his discharge orders. He had already practiced with the big syringe they had given him that he would use to feed himself and rinse out his mouth. He understood the need for the scissors that he would use to cut the rubber connectors helping to hold his jaw in place in the event he vomited. He had had a tracheotomy before, and remembered how to care for the resulting wound.
He could do this.
Chris had notified the nursing staff that he had an emergency and would be back for Vin as soon as possible. But all he had had to do was to wait for the shift change, counting on the brief, hectic period as the best time to make his escape. He was already dressed, so all he had to do was slip out the door and down the hallway, a small bag in one hand and his whiteboard in the other.
Managing to get to the cabstand nearby, he used his driver’s license to tell the driver where he needed to go. He watched the man take in his fading bruises, swollen jaw, and the bandage around his throat before he nodded and let him know that he understood.
He could do this.
The first sign of trouble was when he woke from a light doze, the cabbie calling to him that they had arrived. Fumbling for his wallet, he paid the man, nodded his thanks, and pulled himself out of the vehicle. Slightly disoriented, it took him a few seconds to begin his shuffling trek toward the front door. The driver was suddenly at his elbow, asking if he was all right. He nodded, managed a faint smile, and slipped out of the man’s grasp. Slowly he moved on, barely aware of the cab driving away.
Could he do this?
Of course the elevator was out of order. Most of the time he didn’t even bother to check, but he had hoped it would be working today. With a sigh, he moved toward the stairway, noticing that there was no one around in the late afternoon. It was stifling hot, so chances were the other occupants of the building had gone to seek out somewhere cool to hide out until evening.
He found it fairly easy to climb the first flight of stairs… somewhere along the second flight he was finding it a little more difficult to move from step to step. Now, here he was, clinging to the banister as he tried to gather the strength to finish his journey.
What the hell had he been thinking?
After several minutes he managed to recover enough to resume the climb, and slowly moved upward. The relief was evident on the young man’s face as he reached the fourth floor. One hand sliding along the wall to steady him, he moved toward his apartment. There he fumbled for his keys and, with trembling hands, managed to unlock and open the door. Stumbling inside, he engaged the lock before pushing away from the wall and heading toward the couch.
Dropping to the cushions, he groaned as he stretched out, realizing belatedly that he really should turn on the window A/C. He couldn’t summon the strength though and, with a sigh, he drifted off into a deep, exhausted sleep.
<C/V>
Warm. Heat. Hot. So damned hot. Vin blinked open an eye, trying to figure out where he was. Deciding that hell probably didn’t look like his apartment, he knew he wasn’t dead. The A/C, he hadn’t turned on the unit in his window. He really needed to… needed to kick it on high and cool the place down.
“What’s the matter, pretty boy?”
Tanner jumped, the voice bringing memories of six days ago. The man who had attacked him. He struggled to move, to pull himself up. He heard laughter, close and cold-hearted. More than one person, too. Looking around, his blurry gaze took in several figures. As his vision cleared he realized that they were all men he recognized. All men from his worst nightmares.
All men who had raped or abused him.
Whimpering, the only sound he could summon, the slender man pulled himself to his feet. He rocked dangerously, nearly falling, before he gained his balance. Looking up, he slowly realized that he was alone in the apartment. It had just been a dream.
A nightmare.
Stumbling across the room, he managed to get the window unit activated and leaned against the wall until he was certain that it was cooling. As the air began to stir, he shuffled back across the room. Forcing himself to stay on his feet, he moved through the little apartment. He told himself that he needed to get the other unit, in his bedroom, turned on and take care of some other things. Deep down, he knew that he was making certain there was no one else in the apartment.
Making it to the bedroom, he turned on the window unit there. Next he moved to the bathroom, relieving himself and carefully wiping his face off with a damp cloth. Then he moved to the little kitchenette, snagging the bag he had dropped in the old rocking chair as he passed it earlier. Going to the sink, he set the bag on the counter and retrieved the big syringe and liquid medication. He hoped it was still good, he vaguely remembered being told he needed to refrigerate it.
Managing to get the medication into the syringe, he took both the pain reliever and the antibiotic that had been prescribed. Rinsing it out, he filled the long tube with cool water and slowly drank it as well, the slender mouth of the syringe passing between his teeth.
By the time he had managed this much activity, he was drenched in a cold sweat and trembling. He shoved the medication in the refrigerator, dropped the syringe in the sink, and staggered back through the apartment. This time he forced himself forward until he was in the bedroom. Closing and locking the inner door, he barely managed to get to the bed before he passed out. Clinging to the mattress, he crawled across the rumpled surface and collapsed, unconscious before he could even make it to the pillow.
<C/V>
A steady stream of curses could be heard coming from Chris Larabee’s private office. It had taken longer to finish the operation than they had expected, and it was nearly dark before they had everything wrapped up. As soon as they got back to the suite, he strode toward his office, nearly slamming the door through the wall as he threw it open.
The others stayed back, knowing that he needed to do something to let off some of the steam they had watched building through the afternoon. They were all just happy they weren’t Jake Larsen, the leader of Team Four. The two senior agents had gotten into a pissing contest after Peterson and his people had been taken down. The other members of Team Seven couldn’t help but feel sorry for Larsen after Chris had chewed him up and spit him out.
They still had to write up their reports, mandatory after a bust, before they would be free to leave. Buck considered going in and offering to write the SAC’s report, but the barrage of four-letter words made him hesitate.
“I think we need to just let him alone,” Josiah broke into the other man’s thoughts. “It would be better for him to get this all out of his system now, before he goes to get Vin.”
Nodding, Wilmington said, “Reckon you’re right. Last thing Junior needs is goin’ home with a grizzly.”
They had all seen how Tanner’s attack had left the older man filled with unfocused anger. With no leads as to whom or what had precipitated that attack, there was nothing for him to focus his feelings on. Vin had eventually been able to scribble the names “Teddy” and “Jesse” and the word “brothers” on his whiteboard, but it was very little to go on. The injured man couldn’t recall any more than that, leaving him angry and frustrated. The DPD detectives in charge of the case had been given the names, and were tracking down some very slim leads. There had been no useable prints found on the scene – in other words, on Tanner’s body. None of them could recall dealing with brothers with those names, leaving the detectives looking for leads back during the time the Texan had been a bounty hunter.
It wasn’t looking good.
<C/V>
He came to consciousness to find himself on all fours, tangled in his sheets, on the floor beside his bed. His heart was racing, his breath whistling rapidly through his nose and teeth. He was shaking so hard that the bed was squeaking when he rocked against it over and over.
He heard laughter. Faint, as if it was coming from the other room. Grabbing hold of the bed he pulled himself to his feet, reaching for the drawer in his nightstand. Yanking it open, he retrieved the handgun he kept there. Checking the clip, he staggered toward the bathroom door. This was going to stop; he was going to end it.
<C/V>
A black-clad storm erupted from the suite’s inner office. Larabee all but flew across the room, snapping out a curt, “Going to get Vin”, he left the suite before any of the others could even respond.
Heading for the elevator, Chris tried to hold it together. He had wanted nothing but to scream since leaving his partner’s side that morning. It had taken everything in him not to take out his rage on Larsen, only the underlying knowledge that the man had been doing his job keeping him from doing just that. He had nearly taken a kill shot at Peterson, wanting the man to suffer for intruding in his plans. Only the awareness that the man needed to stand trial if they were going to break the back of his cartel kept him pulling the trigger.
He knew he had treated his men to a symphony of cursing and he knew they didn’t deserve it. In the end even that hadn’t helped. There was only one thing that would help.
He had to get to Vin.
Beneath the anger and rage, was fear. Fear that something would happen while his partner was out of his sight. He had read the look in those blue eyes, and could see just how close Tanner was to running. Until the younger man was back in his sight, that fear would continue.
He had to get to Vin.
<C/V>
“Have to stay awake.” That single thought tumbled over and over in his mind. He had to find a way to keep from falling back to sleep. When he fell asleep they came. Every man who had ever abused him, or used him for their own pleasure. They surrounded him, laughing and taunting him with reminders of what they had done to him in the past. Promises of what they were going to do to him now.
He was curled up in the bathroom; pressed in the tiny space between the toilet and the wall. He leaned against the cool porcelain, taking some small comfort in the way it felt against his perspiration-soaked flesh. He felt nauseous and prayed he wouldn’t throw up.
Why had he been so stupid as to leave the hospital? Why had he run away from the strong arms of the man who loved him like no other ever had?
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” The word echoed through his mind, over and over. Why had he been so stupid?
“Yeah, that’s right. You are stupid.”
Nononononononono! His mind screamed as he heard that hated voice coming from somewhere outside the bathroom. Now they were coming for him even while he was awake. He lifted the gun, holding it in both hands and steadying himself against the toilet lid. They wouldn’t come in here. They wouldn’t get him.
No one would ever hurt him again.
<C/V>
Chris growled as he stormed across the parking lot to where he had only left his truck a few minutes ago. He had gone to Vin’s room… or what he had thought was Vin’s room… only to find a stranger lying in what had been the younger man’s bed a few hours ago. A quick check at the nurse’s station had him fuming, when they could tell him nothing more than that Tanner had been discharged that morning.
Climbing behind the wheel of the Ram, he nearly broke the key off as he jammed it into the ignition. Shoving it into gear, he stomped on the accelerator, almost colliding with several other vehicles as he tore out of the parking lot. The cab of the truck filled with colorful language as he flew along the city streets, heading for the district known as “Purgatory”.
“You stupid sonovabitch! What were you thinking? How far up your ass was your head when you left that hospital!? God damn, stubborn, bull-headed, selfish bastard! When I get hold of you – “
He stopped his tirade, forcing himself to take a deep breath. In a soft, emotion filled voice he whispered aloud, “Who am I fooling? When I get hold of you, I’m going to hold onto you as tight as I can. Oh, God, Tanner. Please… please be all right!”
A few minutes later, the decrepit building that Vin insisted on calling home came into view. Finding a spot on the street, Larabee parked the truck, forcing himself to calm down before leaving the big, black vehicle. Accomplishing that, he turned off the Ram, climbed out of the cab, and locked the truck up before moving away and heading for the building’s front door.
<C/V>
“Did you like it, pretty boy? Want some more? C’mon outta there… we’ll show ya a real good time.”
He listened to the taunts, wishing he could answer them. But all that he could do was to slump against the cool, white porcelain holding the gun in shaking hands. If he could only summon the strength to get up, he would go out there and let those bastards know exactly how he felt about what they had done.
From time to time he could picture them out there, cold eyes staring back at him and mouths fixed in smirks. He remembered the things that had been done to him, over and over again, felt their rough hands grabbing at him, their teeth biting him. He felt them take him, over and over again.
Oh God, he fought back the rising bile, praying once more that he wouldn’t puke. The scissors were out there, in the living room. There was no way he could get them without running the gauntlet between all those filthy bastards.
Hot tears streamed down his face, burning the still healing scraps and scratches. He whimpered, wishing he could stop the thoughts that kept pouring through his mind. On some level he knew and understood that there was actually no one out there; that he was safe. But that part of him was overwhelmed by the raw fear that filled him.
<C/V>
Chris let himself into his lover’s apartment with the key he carried, treading softly in case Tanner was sleeping. He moved inside the apartment, shutting the door behind him. The air was frigid, the air conditioner in the far window rattling as it began to freeze up. Crossing the room quickly he turned it down, and then began searching the little apartment. Moving toward the bedroom, he found the door closed and locked; something the young man never did.
Knocking on the door, Larabee called out, “Vin? Come on, open up.”
Several minutes passed and the blond repeated his plea. When nothing happened for the third time, he cursed, slamming his fist against the old wood. “Damn it, Tanner!”
Suddenly remembering something, he sprinted back through the rooms, going to the kitchenette. Flinging open one of the cabinets, he reached toward the back, his hand resting on an old, tin cup. Drawing it out, he reached inside and withdrew an old skeleton key. With that in hand, he moved back to the closed door. Quickly unlocking it and yanking it open, he moved into the bedroom. It was dark, but he could see a sliver of light coming from the bathroom. It was also cold, the window unit in this room rattling as loudly as in the other. Turning it down, he moved toward the bathroom door, this time not surprised to find it locked. Retrieving the key, he placed it in the lock, and pulled the door opened.
*BANG*
The sound of his handgun going off echoed like a canon in the small, enclosed space. It also had the effect of shocking the shooter back to reality. He stared, wide-eyed and frightened as he recognized his friend and lover in the door.
Larabee was looking upward, his eyes on the ragged hole in the plaster above him. He coughed as dust rained down on him, and then looked down at the man who had just shot at him. It never occurred to him to take cover. This was Vin, after all.
“Your aim’s off,” He observed dryly. Then, seeing Tanner lower the weapon, he moved across the room and squatted down beside him. Reaching out, he stroked long fingers through sweat-soaked, chestnut hair. With a sigh he asked, “What were you thinking, Cowboy?”
Vin turned his head, unable to look at the other man. He didn’t want Larabee to see the guilt that burned through him, or see the tears in his eyes. He felt the other man’s hand on his cheek, trying to coax him to turn back. He resisted as long as he could but, eventually, he forced himself to meet the hazel-green gaze.
Looking at his partner’s face, filled with love and concern, did what nothing else could. In his mind he suddenly saw Larabee kneeling there, a hole through his forehead and blood dripping down his face.
Chris saw the spasms begin, watched the younger man grow wide eyed as he began to get sick. Cursing, he leapt to his feet and dashed back through the apartment. Quickly searching the other rooms, he found the bag Vin had carried from the hospital. Dumping it out, he grabbed up the slender bladed scissors and hurried back toward the bathroom.
Vin was jerking, heaving as he tried to dispel what little there was on his stomach. He barely realized it when Chris took hold of him, trying desperately to calm him. All he knew was that he was going to drown himself in his own vomit.
Larabee finally managed to get hold of the nearly convulsing man. He got the scissors inside the slightly parted lips, and snipped the rubber that was holding the wires together. Accomplishing that, he yanked the toilet lid up and held the pain-wracked man over it.
It didn’t take long for Vin to dispose of what little remained in his stomach. It was mostly water, but even that was difficult for him to deal with. After what seemed like a decade, he groaned and slumped against the other man.
Chris lifted his partner to his feet and guided him toward the sink. Carefully he helped Vin rinse out his mouth then guided him back through the apartment. Sitting him on the couch, he coaxed the man to keep his neck and head as still as possible while he gathered up a few things. With the bag Vin had carried from the hospital in one hand, he came back and guided the smaller man to his feet. “Come on, we’ve got to get you back to the hospital, so they can do some damage repair.”
Sighing, Vin nodded. Leaning against the bigger man, he allowed himself to be led from the apartment and down the stairs to where the big, black Ram was waiting.
<C/V>
Three hours later, they were pulling into the drive leading to Larabee’s ranch. He looked to see Tanner sitting rigid in the seat, staring unseeingly out the windshield. He had tried over and over again to get the Texan to understand that everything was all right, that he hadn’t been hurt, and that he would be there to protect the other man from anything – anyone – that tried to hurt him. None of that seemed to matter. Vin simply stared straight ahead, not responding to anything that was said to him.
They had arrived at the ER, Chris handing the injured man over to the medical staff. They had attached new rubber pieces to the wiring that was holding his jaw closed. They had also checked the trach opening, to make certain he hadn’t damaged anything when he had gotten sick. X-rays showed no new damage, so he was released from the hospital for the second time that day.
Pulling up to the end of the drive, Larabee climbed out, moved around the cab of the truck, and opened the passenger side door. He gently coaxed Tanner out, concerned when his young partner didn’t even protest having the seatbelt unfastened for him. Slowly they made their way to the house, Chris guiding Vin as if the Texan was sleep walking.
Going inside, he led his partner down the hallway, heading toward the master bedroom. Vin offered no resistance, simply tracking beside him automatically. Larabee ushered him into the bathroom, let him take care of nature’s call, and helped him into pajama pants and a t-shirt. Going into the bedroom, he settled the younger man into what he had begun to think of as “Vin’s side” of the big bed. Watching as his partner drifted off toward sleep, he quietly left the room.
<C/V>
Chris hurried through the evening chores, bedding down the horses and coming back inside as fast as he could. He ate a sandwich while locking up the house, drank a beer while he caught a few minutes of the news, and headed toward the master suite. He stripped off and stepped into the shower, groaning as the hot water beat on his tensed shoulders. Standing beneath the water until it began losing heat; he scrubbed the grit of the long day from his body and stepped out to towel off. Brushing his teeth and running a comb through his wet hair, he pulled on his own pajama pants and a t-shirt before padding back out into the big bedroom.
He was concerned when he realized how rumbled the bedding was already, it looked as if a battle had been fought between the sheets. Tanner began to move just then, tossing and turning restlessly. He moved to the bed, climbed in beside the younger man, and called out to him. “Vin, it’s me. It’s Chris. Calm down, Cowboy, you’re safe.”
Slowly Tanner responded to the quiet voice and began to relax. His eyes slanted open, revealing just a hint of the blue beneath the lids. A strange sound, part cry and part sigh, issued from the younger man. He began to inch toward the tall blond, stopping only when he was nestled against the well-honed body.
Smiling in relief, Chris settled in, drawing his lover close to him. Cradling Vin against him, he let his heartbeat lull the exhausted man back to sleep. Even after Tanner lay limp in his arms, he continued to hold him, not letting go through the long hours of darkness.
<C/V>
One of the nice things about being “the boss” was the freedom to delegate. Larabee rarely used it for selfish reasons, but he did the next morning. He called Buck and handed off his SAC duties to his old friend. Then he climbed back into bed beside Vin.
Tanner didn’t stir until almost noon; something far outside the norm for him. As he began to stir, Larabee left the bed long enough to fix his injured partner something to eat. Taking it back to the bedroom, he roused Vin and helped him take in the liquid diet; coaxing him to eat. Settling the recovering man back on the bed, he caught the same furtive glance that he had been getting for days.
“Would you please look at me?” The blond asked in a soft but firm tone. When the blue eyes continued to stare just over his shoulder, he sighed and shook his head. Picking up the mug he’d brought Tanner’s lunch in on, he started out the door. Stopping just across the threshold he turned back, giving the younger man a final look before leaving the room.
Vin stared after him, his eyes tracking his lover for that last second before he disappeared from view. His expression was one of sorrow and loss. Despite the other man’s care and concern he knew that nothing would ever be the same. He had considered himself damaged goods long before setting eyes on Chris Larabee. He had never let that part of his past encroach on their relationship, though. This… this was different. He could see the pain in those loving eyes, read the grief in every line of that handsome face.
How could he ever expect to see love there again?
<C/V>
“Look, Chris, I know what you’re saying and I can’t say that I blame you. Believe me; I wouldn’t have ever called you if this hadn’t come direct from Travis.”
“Damn it, Buck,” Larabee growled quietly, not wanting to wake the man beside him. Vin had had another rough night, waking several times in a cold sweat, chest heaving as he replayed the attack over an over in his mind. Chris had spent the weekend tending to the younger man, but things seemed to be getting worse rather than better.
“Chris,” Buck’s voice was soft, his tone filled with understanding, “I wish I’d been able to change the AD’s mind. Hell I don’t think he was any too happy about giving the order himself. But, the fact of the matter is, as SAC – “
“I know. Damn it, I know.” Larabee leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his short cropped hair. “Fuck. All right, I’ll be there. Give me a couple of hours.” He broke the connection before the other man could respond. Dropping the handset into its base, he turned to Vin once more. He forced a smile when he saw that the other man was awake.
“Good morning.” He reached out and stroked the tumble of loose chestnut curls back from the other man’s forehead.
Tanner managed a faint smile and struggled to meet his partner’s eyes. He was afraid to read the expression there, to read what shone in that familiar face. When he did, though, he couldn’t believe what he saw. It couldn’t be love… not for him. Chris Larabee couldn’t love anyone as damaged as he was. Damaged, hell. He had been ripped to shreds, body and soul.
The blond watched the expressions that flitted across the bruised and distorted features of the younger man. He saw the fear and self-loathing and could only think of one way to chase that pain away. As Vin finally met his eyes, he whispered gently, “I love you.”
Tears welled up in those pain-filled, blue eyes, slowly cascading over bruised flesh. Larabee cupped his hand against the uninjured side of Tanner’s face, his thumb barely brushing over the stubbled chin. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned down and kissed the Texan passionately. Moving back, he repeated, “I love you.”
The injured man reached out then, his trembling hand pressing against the blond’s broad chest. Chris reached down and started to cover his partner’s hand, then reacted in shock as Tanner shoved him away. Before he could recover, Vin managed to climb off the bed and stumble across the room.
Tanner wasn’t certain where he was going; wasn’t certain he could take the next step, or the next. All he knew was that he had to get away. Overriding his lover’s declaration of love were the taunts and jibes of so many others. They melted together into one angry, hideous voice, ripping through his mind until there was no room left for anything else. For each vile word he forced himself forward another step.
Finally recovering from the shock of being rebuffed by his partner, Chris leapt from the bed and started after the slender man. Knowing how quickly Vin could turn from the calm, easy going man he loved, to a feral creature at times like this, the blond kept his distance, following far enough that he didn’t startle the other man again, but close enough to make certain he didn’t harm himself.
They ended up at the corral. Chris watched at Vin staggered, nearly falling, and barely caught himself on the rail. He couldn’t help but shake his head as Peso moved over and began to snuffle at Tanner’s white-knuckled hand. The big black started to nuzzle the familiar face but seemed to recognize that something was wrong. Instead he leaned his massive head against the top rail of the fence, as near the man as he could.
Larabee moved slowly, not wanting to frighten the traumatized man. Just as he reached the corral, Vin’s knees buckled and he fought to hold himself upright. Sweeping in behind the smaller man, he gently wrapped his arms around the falling body and eased him to the ground. Stroking a hand over Tanner’s trembling arms, he spoke softly, as if he was gentling a colt.
“I don’t know what’s in that head of yours, Pard, but please… please don’t shut me out. I need to know what’s going on with you, so we can face it, together. We can beat whatever it is, as long as we’re together. Right? We’ve been caught up in some pretty bad things, but nothing’s ever gotten us down for long. Trust that we can do that this time, too. Please?”
Vin didn’t respond, but Larabee could feel the body in his arms beginning to relax. Finally Tanner was leaning heavily against him, allowing himself to be weak and vulnerable. Allowing himself a moment to feel safe.
“Come on, let’s get you back inside and figure this out. I don’t – damn it!” Chris suddenly remembered the AD’s orders. How could he fulfill his duties and take care of Vin as well?
The answer came in the form of a battered old Suburban that came rattling up the drive. The blond was helping his young lover to his feet as he registered that fact. He smiled in relief as he watched Josiah Sanchez park the vehicle and unfold his big frame from the driver’s seat. He waved to the profiler as he led Vin back toward the house.
Nothing was said as Chris guided his injured partner through the house and back into the master suite. He helped Vin change into clean clothes, bathed the bruised body carefully, and coaxed him back into bed. Tanner didn’t go back to sleep, but did relax beneath the warm comforter. Catching the sorrowful azure eyes, Larabee said, “Josiah’s here. I’m gonna go talk to him and ask him to stay here. I’ve got to take care of some things at the office, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Okay?”
Staring deep into the blond’s eyes, Vin slowly nodded. It wasn’t really all right, but there was nothing he could do about it. Chris had a job to do. He hid the forlorn look at bay until the older man had left the room. Then he threaded his trembling fingers through his hair, a whimper coming from deep inside. He could no longer decide what he wanted. On one hand he wanted to be alone but on the other he felt the panic well up at the thought of his lover leaving. Unable to loose the pain verbally, he curled onto his side and began to rock.
<C/V>
“Buck send you?” Larabee asked as he joined the team profiler in the den.
With a nod, Sanchez replied, “We figured he didn’t need to be alone right now. If what I saw when I pulled up is any indication, we were right.”
Heaving a sigh, the slender blond raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what that was all about, to be honest. I thought I was reassuring him… letting him know that I’m in this for the long haul. But all I seemed to do was agitate him.”
“What did you say to him?”
Color crept onto the ruddy cheeks. He was a man, after all. Discussing feelings wasn’t something he felt comfortable with. Despite the fact that their five friends and teammates knew of his relationship with Tanner, it wasn’t something he spoke of easily. Taking a deep breath, he admitted, “I told him I love him. Twice.”
“Is it unusual for you to say that to him?”
Dropping onto the couch Larabee shrugged. “We don’t toss it around all that much I guess. We both know how the other feels, though. At least I thought we did.”
Considering his words carefully, Josiah said, “Why did you find it necessary to say it now?”
Frowning, Chris replied, “I wanted him to know I’m here for him. I need him to know that nothing’s changed.”
“But it has changed. Something was taken from Vin… he was violated… hurt. He was made vulnerable… he’s still weak, frightened and alone.”
“Never alone, Preacher. He’s never gonna be alone as long as I live.”
“He is in this, Chris. You can love him and support him, but you can’t walk this path with him.”
“The hell I can’t,” Larabee growled.
Unfazed, Sanchez reflected, “The hell, you can’t. He is in hell right now… one he thought he’d left behind when he crawled out of the streets. We’ve all seen glimpses of what Vin went through back then. It’s been painful enough to observe, but he lived it. And now that past has reared its ugly head and stolen the safety and security he found here… with us… with you. His entire world has been turned upside down, my friend, and it’s left him hurt and confused. And, more importantly, it’s left him insecure in his place with you.”
Frowning, Larabee said, “His place is where it’s always been. Right in the middle of my world.”
Smiling, Josiah replied, “You know that and the rest of us know that. Just be patient and let Vin realize it as well. But remember this, brother. Things have changed, and there’s no making them go back the way they were a couple of weeks ago. Part of that patience will be called on to rebuild what the two of you have, and to go forward from there.”
Scrubbing his face and heaving another sigh, the blond finally nodded after mulling over the other man’s words. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just…”
“Just that you want to make it right for him, right now?” Sanchez guessed when his boss trailed off.
Locking eyes with the bigger man, Chris couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Yeah… yeah, I guess so.”
“You can’t, boss. As much as you want to, you can’t. All you can do is be patient.”
Cocking a blond brow, Larabee said, “You know that’s never been my strong suit.”
Josiah chuckled, but then grew serious once more. “It’s going to have to be this time. Otherwise you’re going to risk the chance of losing him. Right now he’s overwhelmed and lost.”
“So I just stand here and watch him suffer?”
“No. You stand strong for him; offer him the strength he needs to come to you.”
<C/V>
Vin opened his eyes slowly, feeling the tightness over his skin left behind by his drying tears. Angrily he scrubbed his hand across his face then groaned as the movement stirred up the pain. Rolling onto his back he stared at the ceiling, slowly recognizing it as the ceiling in Chris’ master bedroom. He groaned again, this time feeling another pain; one that tightened around his heart until he thought he’d just up and die from it. Hoped he would. Wanted to. Wanted to die so he didn’t have to face the thoughts that were making themselves known as his mind awoke.
He pulled himself up and stumbled to the bathroom. He turned on the hot water in the shower and yanked his clothes off, throwing them into a pile. Stepping inside the steamy cubicle, he flinched as the water scorched his flesh.
Grabbing up the bath brush, he began to scrape it over the skin of his arms and chest then worked his way down. Moans boiled up from the middle of his soul as he continued to scrape the brush over his naked flesh. He continued even as his skin turned red, continued even as spots of blood rose to mingle with the nearly boiling water. Then salty tears joined the water as well, as he began to sob.
Suddenly the water disappeared, although he scarcely noticed it. He continued to rake the brush over his skin until it, too, was taken away. With a growl he turned toward the open shower door, only to find the compassionate, blue eyes of Josiah Sanchez regarding him calmly. Turning away he started to turn the hot water on once more, only to be stopped by a large hand covering his. Pain-filled eyes flashing, he turned back to the bigger man.
“You’re hurting yourself, Vin. I can’t let you do that.” Sanchez’s voice rumbled in the quiet room.
That voice served as a balm, and released the storm that raged within. Tanner collapsed against the broad chest, sobbing.
Startled at the reaction, Josiah managed to take hold of the smaller man, gathering the wet body to him. Murmuring calming words, he helped Vin from the shower, helped him dry off, and dress. The tears continued to flow, as if they would never stop.
Sanchez guided the injured man into the bedroom, changed the bandage on his throat, and helped him back into bed. He continued to buoy the man up with his soft, baritone voice, keeping him anchored to reality.
As the younger man looked up at him from the bed, the profiler asked, “Do you want to talk?” When Tanner frowned, Josiah retrieved the white board and marker that Vin had all but forgotten since coming to the ranch. Handing it over he asked again, “Do you want to talk?”
He shot the older man an angry look, but then tears filled those enraged eyes and he took the board and marker. With a trembling hand he wrote simply, “WHY?”
Settling on the edge of the bed, Josiah adopted a thoughtful look. After a few seconds he shook his head, and said, “I don’t know, Vin. I wish I did.” As the supine man huffed and tossed the marker aside, he asked, “Would you rather I lied to you, my friend?”
Now it was Tanner’s turn to look thoughtful. Finally he shook his head. Taking up the marker, he slowly printed, “Wish it wood go a way.”
Nodding in agreement, Josiah said softly, “So do I my friend. So do I. However, we won’t get our wish… all we can do is work through it. Help you work through it. And it’s not going to be easy, or simple. I guess my question is, are you willing to do that? Can you be strong enough to face what happened to you, knowing that you have your friends ready and willing to hold onto you… hold you up… catch you when you fall? Are you strong enough to let Chris love you?”
Tears welled up in the man’s anguish-filled eyes once more. A strangled sob escaped him and he viciously erased the words on the board. Anger spurred his next words, as he said, “Dont want hem love me. Dont want pitty.”
“It’s not pity, Vin. You know that… would know that if you looked inside your heart. Is that something you want to lose?”
“All redy lost it.”
Huffing out a frustrated breath, Sanchez grumbled, “I never pictured you as a quitter, Vincent Tanner. Never pictured you as one that would throw a pity party. Well, maybe you’re right. If that’s what you want, perhaps Chris will give it to you. After all, he’d do anything in this world for you. He’d move heaven and earth for you… so I suppose that if you want him to leave you; he’ll do it simply because you asked it of him. If you truly want it, we’ll all leave you alone, Vin. If it’s what you truly want.”
The older man rose from the bed and started to move from the room. A strangled sob, coming from deep within the injured man, caused him to falter and nearly stop. He continued on, though, until he heard the sharp rap of plastic on plastic. Turning, he saw Vin sitting on the edge of the bed, pounding the marker against the white board to get the agent’s attention. Suppressing a smile, he moved back to the bed and coaxed the Texan back against the headboard.
His hand trembling even harder, dyslexia still evident, Vin scribbled, “Pleas dont let me be a loan. Dont let me go.”
With a compassionate smile, the older man reached out and took the younger man’s hand. “Never, my friend. We’ll never let you go.”
<C/V>
Chris sighed as he entered his house, relieved to finally be home. He moved through the quiet, darkened rooms, padding into the den where a soft light beckoned him. Seeing Josiah stretched out on the couch, eyes closed and a soft rumble coming from him as he snored softly. Moving to the couch, he tapped the shoulder hanging half off the cushion. When bleary eyes fluttered open, he said softly, “wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the guest room?”
Rubbing a hand over his blunt features, Sanchez murmured, “Sorry, boss, didn’t mean to fall asleep on the job.”
Shrugging the blond asked, “How’s he doing?”
“Better. We had a talk this afternoon.”
Hope sparked in the haunted, hazel eyes. “How’d it go?”
“We’re not there yet,” the big man replied with a sigh, “but we’re getting there.”
“Where exactly are we?”
Before Josiah could answer, a movement caught his attention behind Larabee. He didn’t try to hide the smile that came over his face as Vin shuffled into the room and came to stop behind Chris. Sensing the other man’s presence, the blond turned, surprise in his face as he found his young lover standing close.
“Hey, there. Did I wake you coming in?”
Shaking his head no, Tanner held up his whiteboard. On it he had scribbled, “Im sory I was a ass hole. Pleas give me a 2nd chanse.”
Taking the board from the trembling hand, Chris shook his head as he tossed it onto the coffee table. Carefully reaching out, he slowly enveloped the slender body in his embrace. Nuzzling aside the auburn curls, he whispered into Vin’s ear, “You weren’t an asshole, Cowboy… and you can have every chance you want. I love you and I’ll love you until the day I die. I hope you can trust that… I hope you’ll see that I’m telling the truth. There’s nothing in the world that I won’t face with you or for you. Nothing that will turn me away from you. Right now, you don’t have to be strong… you don’t have to be alone. All you have to do is hold onto me… hold onto all of your friends. We’re not going anywhere, and we’re not gonna let go of you.”
Vin took a deep breath and let it go, inhaling the scents that he knew meant Chris Larabee. He sank deeper into that warm embrace, letting himself feel the strength that flowed from his lover.
Stroking his fingers gently through the long, auburn hair, Larabee gently coaxed Tanner back so he could face the smaller man. In a whisper, he asked, “Is that okay with you? Whatever you want, Pard… whatever you want.”
The tears flowing once more, Vin nodded his head and managed a slight smile as he leaned back in and allowed himself to be drawn back into that warm, loving embrace. He was safe now; he could allow himself to be vulnerable, to be weak and needy if he wanted. He could allow himself to heal, knowing that he had Chris and their other five friends to hold onto him until he could stand on his own two feet once more.
<C/V>
The next three weeks tested the resolve of not only Vin Tanner, but those around him. The wound left behind by the tracheotomy healed nicely, as did his jaw. Although the doctor assured and reassured Chris, even under his hardest glare, that Vin should be able to speak after a fashion, even with his jaw wired shut, the sharpshooter didn’t make a sound. At the worst of times he relied on the white board, at the best he relied on Larabee understanding what he needed or wanted. And, truth be told, the blond did. That ‘bond’ the others had always swore he had with Vin, served its purpose. He could typically understand what his young partner desired with just a few gestures.
Sitting with the others at their usual table in The Saloon one lunch hour, Chris was in an uncharacteristically verbal mood.
“I just don’t understand what’s going on. All the tests say that everything’s fine. His jaw’s going to be… unwired?... in a few days. The trach hole is just a scar, and there’s no damage. He should be able to make sounds; to be fairly well understood when he speaks. But he won’t say a word.”
“Well, maybe he just doesn’t have anything to say,” Buck offered.
“I don’t have time for your stupid jokes,” Larabee growled.
Holding up a hand, the big man replied, “Ain’t jokin’, Chris. Maybe he just doesn’t have anything to say. You know better than any of us that if he doesn’t need to speak, he don’t.”
“Or… maybe he just doesn’t know what to say,” JD offered. When the others turned his way, he continued, “He’s pretty much been left alone with his thoughts for weeks now. Who knows what’s been going on,” he tapped his head, “in there.”
Taking up the younger man’s thread of thought, Josiah nodded. “We know that this has left its mark on him, mentally and emotionally as well as physically. It took him nearly two weeks to understand and believe that he wasn’t going to be… thrown away, for lack of a better word. But he still needs to come to terms with what happened. Even though he seems to know now that none of us will abandon him, he has to deal with his sense of violation.”
Heaving a sigh, Larabee nodded. “You’re right. He needs to work through this… to work through those things in his past, too.”
“His best bet would be therapy,” Nathan pointed out.
Looking down at the table, the blond said, “I don’t know about that…”
“The department therapist is very good,” JD said.
“It’s not that,” Chris shook his head.
“If you want this to be kept out of his departmental record and it’s a matter of cost…” Ezra offered.
“That’s part of it I guess but, no, it’s not that, either. It’s just… well, if he can’t even share any of this with me, or any of you guys… will he share it with a stranger?”
“Chris,” Buck reminded gently, “you did.”
Staring at his oldest friend for a moment, the team leader finally nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But… it was different.”
“Not so different really,” Josiah offered. “Both of you underwent a very traumatic event that left you dealing with grief… loss… life-altering change. Only the details are different.”
Leaning forward, elbows on the table, Chris rubbed his temples. Memories of his own ‘time on the couch’ sprang up, with all the rage and loss that had been coaxed from him by his therapist. He remembered leaving many of the sessions feeling completely drained; remembered going home and collapsing into bed, too exhausted to do anything but sleep. Was that what he wanted to subject his partner and soul-mate to?
But then he recalled the nights of dreamless sleep, waking up feeling refreshed and almost ‘normal’ again. He recalled the dissipation of that rage, recalled his grief being slowly reduced to a dull ache from the gut-rending, razor sharp, searing pain it had been. Wasn’t that something he wanted for Vin?
“Yeah,” he spoke in an emotion-edged whisper. “Yeah, you’re right. All of you. I’ve just got to convince him.”
<C/V>
Vin stood at the window, watching down the driveway. He had been waiting for the big, black truck, heralding the arrival of his partner. The butterflies were performing feats of aerial combat in his gut at the thought of being face to face with his partner. Chris had been trying to get him to talk since the damn doctor had announced that he ought to be able to.
He kept telling himself that it was still too difficult, that he was embarrassed by the weird sounds that were supposed to pass for words. He had tried, but never where anyone else could hear him. Well, Peso had been the recipient of a few of his comments, but the big mule had only snorted and shook his head.
He kept telling himself that it was better to stay mute, but deep down he had admitted the truth. He didn’t want to talk. If the others knew he could talk, they’d want him to discuss what had happened. Josiah and Nathan would be ‘gently’ nudging him to get everything out in the open so it could be dealt with. The others would want him to talk as well, although they’d be tip-toeing around him, looking at him awkwardly.
And Chris?
Chris wouldn’t ask… wouldn’t nudge or push. But he’d be shooting him those looks that he’d been giving him ever since the attack. That look that said ‘let me help’ it took everything in him to ignore. He couldn’t let go of the pain; he knew that if he did, it would rip him apart so badly that there’d be no way to put him back together again.
And he would hurt Chris.
He couldn’t do that; couldn’t hurt the first man he’d ever truly loved.
“He don’t love you.”
Unbidden, a whimper escaped Tanner as he forced himself to turn around. They were back. The bastards who’d done so many vile things to him in the past.
He blinked tear-filled blue eyes as he scanned the room behind him. They weren’t there of course, they never were. He knew that even before he turned to look. They hadn’t been anywhere but in his mind. But that didn’t make them less real to him.
Hell, he’d truly lost his mind.
“You’re trash… worthless… not worth his time.”
“NO!” His mind screamed it; a garbled facsimile escaped his lips. Then he gasped as he caught a fleeting image of someone moving just out of sight into the shadows of the hallway. With a growl he sprinted forward, bent on catching the bastard who was torturing him.
Tanner ran through the house, searching manically for the bastard who taunted him. He was going to catch him. Going to make the fucker pay. He’d rip him apart… skin him and dry the bastard’s hide on the side of the barn. The son of a bitching mother fucker wasn’t going to hurt him or anyone else again. He’d rip his heart out and shove it down the son of a bitch’s throat. He’d gut him and leave him out in the woods for the animals to eat.
Vin ran through the house, knocking over tables and chairs, ripping clothes out of the closets, slamming doors open so hard that they nearly came off the frame. Feral sounds escaped him, along with breathless pants as he continued his frantic search for the man who taunted him.
A scream rattled through Tanner’s throat as he caught sight of his quarry slipping past the back door. Staggering as his strength started to abandon him; he pushed himself forward, forcing himself to continue his pursuit.
Out onto the deck, he searched the yard, a sense of panic giving him a burst of strength. Then he caught another glimpse of the man, entering the barn. All but falling down the stairs he continued the chase. Twice he fell as he made his way across the yard, barely feeling the pain as the rough concrete of the walk cut through his thin pajama pants. Blood ran down his shins unnoticed as he forced himself on.
Reaching the barn he ignored the snorts and wickers of the horses watching him from the corral as he flung open the door in the corner of the big building.
Without heed he ran inside.
<C/V>
Chris pulled up to the end of the driveway, tapping the horn twice to let Vin know he was home. As skittish as his partner was, he found that announcing his presence was more than a courtesy, it was a necessity. He’d discovered that the first evening he’d come home from work after bringing Tanner home to recover. His too quiet entrance had sent the younger man into a full fledged panic and he had ended up with a split lip as a reminder that he shouldn’t sneak up behind the injured man.
Stepping up onto the porch he frowned, wondering where Vin was. He was usually at the door, watching him approach. Shoving the key in the lock, he entered the little foyer, frown deepening at the silence. And then his eyes caught sight of the things broken and strewn all over the room.
“VIN!”
Panic sent him forward at a run, even as he cleared the holster with his sidearm. He ran headlong through the house, screaming for his lover. “VIN! DAMN IT!! VIN!!!”
Finding no sign of his partner in the house, he moved out onto the back deck. Scanning the backyard, his eyes caught sight of the barn door swinging open. Leaping over the deck railing he bounded across the grass, screaming for Tanner as he rushed toward the big building.
Restraining himself long enough to slow at the door he peered around the opening, searching for signs of danger. Seeing nothing, he pressed forward, searching for his partner. “Vin? Vin, where are you pard? VIN!”
Larabee found more signs of destruction inside the barn. Everything from hay to tack to tools littered the floor. Every stall door was opened, one nearly off its hinges. With growing panic, the blond hurried through the barn, searching for the other man.
Reaching the far end of the barn, Chris caught sight of straw flying in clumps from the hayloft. Then came a string of very guttural sounds that he identified as coming from his partner. “Vin! Vin?”
Tucking his gun back in its holster, Larabee climbed quickly up the ladder, calling to the other man over and over. Reaching the top, he peered over the edge cautiously.
Chris frowned as he found Vin alone in the loft, frantically digging through the straw. Most of the items they stored up there were either tipped over or missing, probably littering the ground outside. In a soft voice, he called out, “Vin? It’s me, Pard… just me. I’m coming up.”
Finally the words caught Tanner’s attention. He swung around, losing his balance and falling hard onto the rough wooden floor. It had the effect of jolting him back to reality. With a shocked expression, he silently begged the older man to help him.
Moving forward cautiously, Chris dropped to his knees beside the other man. Reaching out, he gently clasped a hand on one trembling shoulder. In a whisper he said, “Oh, Pard, I’m sorry… so sorry. I wish I could fix this.”
The young Texan trembled more and more, until his entire body shook. Tear washed eyes peered at the other man, pleadingly. With his last bit of strength he crawled into his lover’s arms. Melding himself against the broad chest, he knotted his fingers into the cloth of the other man’s dress shirt, relishing the warm embrace that surrounded him with loving comfort.
Larabee rocked gently, rubbing gentle circles on the quivering, sweat soaked back. Over and over again he murmured, “Sh, it’s okay… I’m here now. Sh… I’ve got you.”
For long moments, Vin allowed that embrace to anchor him, pulling him back to reality. Then, finally, he pulled away from Chris’ chest. Eyes seeking out the love in the older man’s face, he managed in a soft, gritty voice, “Help… me.”
<C/V>
Getting Vin out of the hayloft was a feat in itself, Chris nearly carrying the man down the ladder. Then, finally on the ground, he draped one of Tanner’s arms over his shoulder, wrapping his own arm around the trembling man’s trim waist. Slowly they made their way from the barn and across the yard.
As they reached the steps, the blond was all but carrying his partner, the Texan losing steam quickly. “Stay with me, Pard, let’s get up the stairs, okay?” Feeling more than seeing the responding nod, he gently guided Vin up the stairs and into the house.
Moving as quickly as he could, Chris managed to get them both into the master bath. There he got them both out of their clothes and into the shower, setting the water as warm as he dared. Vin leaned heavily against him, still trembling as his emotions continued to tear him apart. Wrapping his arms around the slender body, Larabee kept him beneath the water in hopes of staving off the shock he was certain Tanner was sinking into. Stroking the gently curling chestnut locks, he nuzzled the man’s long neck as he crooned softly, “You’re safe… you’re safe… no one’s gonna hurt you here… not with me… shhh…”
The Texan slowly began to relax, dissolving into that loving embrace. They stood in the shower until the water began to cool. Chris got them both out of the stall, gently coaxing Vin away from him long enough to wrap the shivering torso in a thick, warm towel before guiding him to the toilet. Settling him on the closed lid, he began toweling him off. As he did, he noticed the scrapes on both knees, blood trailing down his shins. Climbing to his feet, he retrieved peroxide and a clean cloth, and began cleaning the abrasions. As he dried the torn skin, he impulsively bent town and kissed each knee tenderly.
Raising his head, he looked up and caught the barest hint of a twinkle lurking in the sorrowful cerulean eyes. Smiling up at the other man, he brushed the back of his hand across one stubbled jaw. Then he watched as Vin raised his left arm, and pointed at a small scratch on his elbow. Leaning forward, he kissed that wound as well then swiped at it with the peroxide.
Next Vin extended his right index finger, exposing a splinter embedded just beneath the skin. Carefully Chris pressed at the man’s flesh, pulling the tiny sliver loose; he pulled the injured finger toward him and kissed that spot before dabbing it as well.
As the blond watched, Tanner next placed his hand against his chest, just over his heart. Moved by the gesture, Larabee drew the other man’s hand away from his chest and pressed gentle kisses over the cool flesh. Drawing back, he looked up into his lover’s face and whispered, “I want to heal that most of all, Pard. And I need you to know that I’ll be right here,” now he placed his hand against Vin’s heart, “until it does heal… and every day after that. Do you believe me?”
Without hesitation now, Tanner nodded, tears once more flowing down his finely chiseled features. Chris stood and helped him to his feet, helping him into the bedroom. There, the blond helped him into warm clothes and then settled him into the bed. He knew he should help; should be able to dress himself. But for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what that entailed at the moment. So he simply relinquished control and allowed himself to be taken care of.
Drawing the comforter up, Larabee tucked it around Vin’s shoulders then settled on his knees beside the bed. Brushing damp curls away from the younger man’s face, he smiled as blue eyes fluttered slowly closed. Shaking his head as he watched the other man fighting sleep. “Don’t fight it… go on to sleep. I’ll watch your back, you can rest.”
Lulled by the softly spoken words, the sharpshooter sighed, giving into exhaustion.
EPILOG
Chris parked at the end of his drive, frowning as he took in the sight of Buck Wilmington’s classic Mustang parked by the garage. The last thing they needed this evening was company. Turning toward the far side of the truck cab, he took in the sight of his sleeping lover. It had been three weeks to the day since he’d come home to find his partner hysterically destroying the house. It was just over two weeks since the doctor had pronounced Vin’s jaw healed. Tanner still didn’t say much, but at least he was talking a little. Actually he had talked more in the past three hours than he had for all that time.
They had just returned from Vin’s therapy.
This was the first session that didn’t entail filling out what seemed like reams of paperwork. It had just been the two of them, sitting together in a small office with a therapist. He had promised his lover he would be there with him as long as he was wanted there. And, even though there were moments that he wanted to be anywhere else, he sat right there, his hand entwined with Tanner’s.
Vin had barely spoken for more than half an hour. His answers had been monosyllabic at best, the therapist patiently pulling each answer from the traumatized man. And then something had triggered the flood gates, and weeks… months… and years of pain began to pour forth.
Mixed into the murk and mire of those chaotic memories of the street child that had evolved into the man before him came a confession that Chris had longed to hear for months.
“Chris… please… I don’t wanna move back to the apartment. I don’t wanna be alone anymore. My home’s wherever you are, Cowboy, I know that now.”
Larabee couldn’t help but shed tears at those words. Couching Vin’s hand between both of his, he looked into those misty eyes and said, “It’s not home without you anymore, Pard, and it never will be. You’ll always have a place in my… no, our… home.”
He had belatedly remembered where they were. At least it came to mind before he leaned forward to kiss his soul mate. He had glanced sheepishly at the therapist, but found her smiling at him.
Looking over at Vin again, he remembered how worn out he had felt by the time they’d left the community mental health building. And he knew that the younger man had to feel ten times that exhaustion. He had taken over long enough to set up the next appointment, pay for the visit, and guide Tanner out to the truck. The other man had been asleep before they’d driven out of the parking lot, and he hadn’t moved since.
And now they had to face Buck.
Heaving a sigh, Larabee pulled himself wearily from behind the wheel, moving tiredly around the cab of the truck. Opening the passenger door, he shook his head when even that didn’t wake the younger man. Reaching inside, he unhooked the seatbelt, gently stroking a hand over the square jaw. “Vin? We’re home, Pard. Come on now, let’s get you inside.”
Tanner’s eyes blinked open and he stared owlishly at his partner. “Wh… what?” He asked, confused.
“We’re home,” Chris repeated, brushing a strand of hair from the handsome face. Slowly Vin pulled himself out of the truck and moved across the yard beside him. As they made their way up the stairs, the door opened and Buck greeted them.
“Hey boys, was beginnin’ to think I’d have to come lookin’ for you.”
Managing a thin smile, the blond said, “Took longer than we thought. What are you doing here?”
Seeing the look in the other man’s face, Wilmington said, softly, “Thought you might need a hand this evenin’.”
Chris saw the pointed look that swept over the man beside him and realized quickly what Buck was getting at. A genuine smile gracing his features now, he said, “Reckon we could.”
By the time Larabee managed to get Vin to the couch, Buck had disappeared into the kitchen and returned. In his hands was a large bowl of ice cream; vanilla covered in fudge sauce, caramel and whipped cream. Grinning now, the bigger man held it out to the Texan. “Know the jaw still hurts, so thought you might enjoy this.”
Vin’s eyes lit up and a genuine smile spread across his face for the first time since the attack. Reaching out he took the bowl as he replied, “Thanks, Bucklin.”
Turning next to his oldest friend, the ladies man said, “Now, you, Mr. Larabee… your dinner’s on the kitchen table. Go on in there and eat it while it’s warm.”
Chris turned toward the seated man, wondering whether Vin needed to be without him at the moment. Then the big man beside him spoke again.
“Go on, now, I’ll keep Junior company.” He gave his friend a gentle nudge and settled beside Tanner on the couch. Picking up the remote, he tuned in TVLand. Looking up at the blond with a feigned frown, he said, “You still here? Go on, now, and eat your dinner. Me an’ Junior’s gonna watch us some… “ he glanced up to see what was on the screen. “Andy Griffith. Go on now.”
Glancing over at Vin once more, Chris watched for a moment. When he was satisfied that the younger man was content for the time being he nodded, uttered a heartfelt, “Thanks, Stud,” and turned to leave the room.
“Oh, here, brought ya a little readin’ material, too,” Wilmington said, holding out an interdepartmental envelope.
With a puzzled look, the blond took the packet and nodded his thanks. Opening it as he walked toward the kitchen, he pulled out what he quickly recognized to be a Police Report. Curiously he began to scan the paperwork. Then his eyes zeroed in on the name at the top of the form… “Jesse Wayne Parker”.
Larabee’s breath caught as he realized what this was; the arrest of the man who had engineered the attack on his partner.
Visions of the trials and tribulations that they were certain to undergo in the weeks and months ahead came to mind. The thought of what Vin would go through, testifying against the monster and his cohorts, turned his blood cold. But then he knew that Tanner would make it through those nightmares. As difficult as it would surely be, he would be beside his partner. He, and their five friends, would be there to stand beside and support him.
Going into the kitchen, Chris found his dinner waiting. Uncovering the plate, he found a beautifully grilled steak, flanked on one side by a baked potato shimmering with butter, and on the other with a dinner roll. Next to the plate was a salad bowl, the salad made just to his liking. Nearby sat a small bucket of ice, a pair of longnecks chilling there. Shaking his head, he silently thanked the heavens for his old friend. Buck never judged, he simply cared for those around him in whatever way he could.
Sitting down, a soft groan escaping his lips as he realized just how tired he was, Chris picked up his knife and fork. As he began to cut into the succulent meat, he overheard the one-sided conversation in the next room.
“Now, ya see ol’ Floyd there? I always figured that he had him a honey or two tucked away somewhere. He always seemed to have a smile on ‘is face, and I don’t think for a minute that it came from cuttin’ hair.”
In answer, the blond heard a soft chuckle. It was a sound that made his heart skip a beat.
Vin was laughing.
THE END