Thanks to Chris and Marian for their help, I couldn't have done it without them!
Something stirred him and Chris awoke. Vin murmured softly and tried to snuggle up to him again but the blond slipped out of bed. The clock's illuminated numbers informed him that it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. Against his conscious will, his eyes went to the photo of his wife and son on the end of the dresser. A beam of moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains and directly on the picture. A wave of anguish swept over him and he drew a shuddering breath. His eyes went back to his sleeping lover and Chris's hand tightened into a fist. Turning from the bed, he left the room and headed out to the deck.As soon as the cool air washed over him, Chris lost his fragile hold on his emotions. He had been trying so hard to get through this date without letting his memories get the best of him. Tipping his face up toward the full moon, he began to cry.
"Sarah ... why did you have to take her from me? And Adam ... my ... son. It wasn't fair! You should have taken me! It would have been better if it had been me! I wish I'd never been born!" Chris quietly raged at a God he no longer believed in. The moonlight glinted off of the coat of Buck's gelding in the corral. The animal tossed his head and began to canter around the rails. After a minute, he broke into a gallop and cut across the corral. When he reached the rails, he leapt over and raced across the pasture.
"Damn!" Chris cursed as he started down the steps. He'd barely taken three steps when his bare foot slipped on the dew-slicked grass. His arms windmilled as he struggled to stay upright. When he hit the ground, his head smacked the piling at the corner of the deck. Even as the pain exploded in his head, everything went dark.
"Chris? Can you hear me?" the insistent voice requested. Hazel eyes opened and glared at the stranger leaning over him.
"Who the hell are you?" Chris growled as he sat up. His head ached and his vision blurred.
"My name is Clarence."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to help you," the man answered, his serene smile never changing. "You're being given a rare opportunity, Chris. You're being given the chance to see how the world would have been if you hadn't been born."
Just then, the door of the house opened and several children ran out, laughing and squealing in delight. A man and a woman came out after them, calling out for them to stay in the yard.
"Who are they?" Chris asked as he watched the children playing on a swing set that he didn't have in his yard that was suddenly sitting there as if it had been there for years.
"Their parents own the house and the property."
"This is my house, my property," Chris defended angrily.
"You never bought this land or that house," Clarence explained patiently. The blond turned and mounted the steps and entered the living room. He stopped and looked around in confusion at the unfamiliar furniture.
"Vin!" he called as he headed for the master bedroom. He threw open the door and stopped, staring at the strange bed. "Vin! Where are you?"
"He's not here, Chris. Vin Tanner never met you, never joined your team."
"Where is he?"
"Do you want to see what happened to him without you?"
His anger surged and Chris turned, reaching out to take hold of the stranger. Suddenly, he found himself standing inside of a prison cell. He staggered slightly before he caught his balance and looked around.
"How did you do that?" Chris asked.
"I'm an angel. I've been sent here to show you how things would have been if you'd never been born. It really is extraordinary, how many lives you touched and changed."
Vin Tanner lay on the bunk, his hands tucked under his head. Chris's heart clenched at the fact that his lover's hair had been shorn off, only short spikes remained. A gang tattoo adorned his forearm. A buzzer sounded and Vin sat up, looking toward the door as it slid open. He stood, stretching, before moving to the balcony outside. Chris noticed that his young lover was much more sculptured, stronger than he remembered. A guard called for them to move out for the dining hall and Vin moved away.
"What happened to him? Why is he here?" Chris asked.
"He was convicted of murder and sentenced to 25 to life."
"Murder? Who?"
"Jess Kincaid, a bail jumper from Texas. He was found stabbed to death in the hotel room registered to Vin while Tanner was passed out on the bathroom floor. His blood alcohol level was well over the legal limit. It was open and shut."
Chris remembered Vin telling him about Kincaid. He was the last bounty Vin had gone after before joining the team. He hadn't found the man and they heard that he'd been caught and returned to Texas some six months after Vin joined the team. "No! He didn't kill Jess Kincaid!"
"No, he didn't, but he had no alibi. You weren't there to offer him a job on your team, so he continued bounty hunting."
"What will happen to him?" Chris asked, feeling sick in his heart.
"He'll get out in thirteen years. But by then it will be too late."
"What happened?"
Suddenly, he was standing in a corner of the showers, watching a group of men crowded in the opposite corner. The group shifted and he could see what was happening. It hit him like a cannon ball in his stomach.
Four prisoners had hold of Vin as another man beat him. Blood streamed from cuts around his eyes and from his nose. A pair of washcloths had been stuffed into his mouth to prevent him from being heard. When Vin was so dazed that he was only barely conscious, another man approached, leering at Tanner. The man's hand was slicked with soap and he was slowly massaging his thick shaft.
"Are you ready for this, Fed?"
Vin's eyes struggled to open and focus before he began to struggle again, tossing his head from side to side. Two of the men holding Vin shifted and turned him so that his back was to the other man.
"Stop them!" Chris demanded. "You've got to stop them!"
"I'm sorry. I can't. It has already happened," Clarence said, looking decidedly nervous. "This is how he contracts the virus."
"Oh my God! He has AIDS?"
"I'm sorry, Chris. Would you like to know what happened to the other members of your team? Vin wasn't the only one to end up in prison."
The scene faded before Vin's attacker completed his vile act. Chris found himself standing in the outer yard of a prison. He staggered under the bright sunlight before looking around. A familiar figure sat on a bench, surveying his surroundings.
"Ezra?"
"He was convicted of money laundering and conspiracy to commit murder. His former teammates testified against him at his trial," Clarence answered.
The blond watched as Ezra nodded to a group of men moving across the yard. They approached another man and spoke to him. The man looked around, his face showing a hint of fear before he went along with the others. Ezra got up and began to stride after them, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. Chris looked at Clarence before hurrying to catch up with the others.
Ezra took something from his pants pocket as he walked up to the man the others had corralled. The man was shifting nervously as he waited for the former ATF agent to arrive. Chris moved to a place where he could clearly see what was happening. Ezra walked up to the man and stopped, looking him up and down without speaking.
"I didn't mean anything by it, Standish! I was just trying to get in good with the guys!" the man said, sweat popping out on his forehead.
A wicked smile crossed Ezra's face, his gold tooth glinting in the sun. He reached out, placing his hand on the man's shoulder. "My good man, of course you were trying to get in good with my crew. I can understand that, appreciate it even. But the fact remains. You were unforgivably rude to me."
Suddenly, Ezra's other hand came around and impacted with the man's stomach, almost at the base of his sternum. The man's eyes widened and he gave a startled gasp as Ezra snapped the end off of the glass shiv, leaving the long, lethal blade buried in the man's heart. Even as the dead body slipped to the ground, the men were already casually walking away. Ezra paused to drop the handle into the sewer grate as he strolled across the grass and back to his spot on the bench.
Chris was stunned as he watched the former agent laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened. A few minutes later, an alarm rang and the prisoners returned to the cells. Ezra nudged one of his friends as the guard spoke to them.
"I can't believe he just did that!" Chris said to Clarence as he walked back. "Ezra was never the cold blooded killer type."
"Your Ezra Standish had friends who supported him, like brothers. This Ezra Standish had no one on his side. He survived this by becoming the strongest and the meanest. No one messes with him because he would rather kill than appear weak and let someone hurt him. This isn't the worst of it."
"What could possibly be worse than cold-blooded murder?"
The scene blurred and Chris found himself inside of the prison again. He could see Ezra on the landing outside of his cell. Another prisoner was standing at his side and both of them were staring at the door that led into the cellblock. When the door opened, several new inmates moved down the painted line until the guard stopped them. Some of the faces were hardened, those men expected what was happening around them. Other faces were fear-filled, newbies to the system and facing their first night behind bars.
"The fourth one from the end," the prisoner said to Ezra. The Southerner nodded as his eyes scanned the row of men.
"The second one from the other end," Standish said.
"You always had a weakness for the tall, blond types," the other man said with a knowing grin. "Who was he? The one you're trying to replace."
"Just something that pleases my fancy."
Chris watched as Ezra made eye contact with the guard and held up two fingers. The guard's eyes moved to the man at Ezra's side to see his four fingers. The guard nodded and moved down the line, rearranging the prisoners. The guard at the other end of the line began nudging them toward their assigned cells. The tall, blond haired man was shoved roughly into the cell where Ezra lay stretched out on his bunk, smiling like the cat who ate the canary. As soon as the guard moved on, Ezra got up and stepped close to his new roommate, barely concealed lust glowing in his green eyes.
"I hope you like spending time on your knees," Ezra purred as he ran his hand along the man's groin. His gold tooth glittered as his smile widened at the obvious fear he saw.
"I can't stand this anymore. Get me out of here. What about Nathan? What happened to him?"
They suddenly appeared in an office were a tall black man was standing at a bar refreshing his drink. Chris shook his head at the slight wave of dizziness that washed over him before he was able to really look around the room. On a large mahogany desk behind him was a pile of money. As they watched, a man was dragged in and tossed into a chair; his mouth was bleeding and his right arm appeared broken. As the man at the bar spoke, Chris realized it was Nathan Jackson.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't have you killed right this minute."
"Please, Mr. Jackson, sir." The voice shook, "I beg you don't do... this. I'll get you the money... please just give me a little more time."
Jackson nodded his headed in the direction of the chair, which was all his man needed and he began hitting and punching the man, drawing more blood from his mouth as well as breaking a few ribs.
Meanwhile, Nathan sat at his desk counting his money and watching the closed-circuit screens that showed every aspect of the casino. Fifteen minutes later Jackson put an end to the beating.
"Now Mr. Boback, you have 48 hours to get me the rest of my money or else you can kiss your wife good bye. You understand, don't you?" Jackson said.
Unable to respond Boback nodded his head. Then he was escorted out of the building. No sooner was his office empty then there was a knock. The door opened and in walked Nathan's long time friend and lover.
As the man walked over to Nathan; he rose to met him half way, they embraced and kissed.
"God, how I've missed you," Nathan said.
"No where near as much as I missed you, Lover," Josiah Sanchez said.
The door was locked and top of the desk cleared. In a hurry to feel skin against skin, they tore at each other's clothes. When nothing stood in their way, they proceeded to refresh their minds as well as their bodies to the touch of the other's skin. While their tongues did battle, their hands explored. Soon they were both moaning and Nathan was begging for more.
"Now... I've got to have you now, Josiah. All of you."
"I can't wait to feel you surrounding me," Sanchez replied.
Chris averted his eyes as the man who had been his profiler impaled Nathan deeply. He knew that Josiah had experimented in the sixties, but the blond never suspected the other man would be interested in an alternative life style. "What are they doing here? We're in Vegas, aren't we?"
"Nathan was hired away from the Kansas City PD to head up security here at the casino. The power trip went to his head and he began skimming money for his own use. He started loaning money to a few select individuals. He is quite ruthless in his collection techniques, as you just saw."
"And Josiah?" the blond asked as he glanced over at the pair, making love as if it were the end of the world. The older man froze as his orgasm began.
"He came here following Nathan. His job with the police department ended when he profiled a serial killer. The guy found out about it and he raped and killed Hannah. The loss of his sister sent him into a deep depression. Nathan's call stopped him from taking his own life."
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
"Nathan? Nathan, are you in there? It's me Rain... Honey I got back early and couldn't wait to see you."
Josiah went still when he heard her. Both men quickly righted their clothes before Nathan went to open the door. Rain immediately went to embrace him and he stiffened in her arms. The intuitive young woman looked past her husband to where Josiah stood near the bar. The smell of sex hung thickly in the air.
"What in the hell is he doing here? Nathan ... you promised me that it was over between you two. I can't believe you lied to me!" Rain shouted, stepping closer to Nathan each time he stepped away from her. "If that's the way you want it, fine. I'll take the kids and move back to my father's. You'll never see Desiree or Nathaniel again!"
Rain started to turn away and Nathan reached out to grab her by the arm. "Don't you threaten me, woman," he hissed, low and mean. "Those are my kids and you aren't going anywhere with them."
"No court is going to give you custody of two small children when they hear about you and your boyfriend. And when I tell the casino manager how you're skimming money from his accounts, you'll be in jail so fast your head will spin," Rain replied, trying to shake her arm free of his grasp. When he didn't let go, she slapped him in the face as hard as she could.
Before Chris got over the shock of everything that he had seen and heard, Josiah crossed from the bar and took hold of the woman. Terrified, Rain clawed at his face. When she began to scream and kick, Josiah pulled her against him, her back to his chest. His right arm imprisoned her arms while his left hand covered her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her. Her struggles became increasingly more frantic and then she went limp in his arms. When he let her go, she slumped to the floor. Nathan knelt and pressed his fingers against her throat before looking up at his lover.
"She's dead."
"I couldn't let her take your kids away from you," Josiah said tenderly as he pulled his lover to his feet and pulled him close. "I couldn't let her hurt you."
"What are we going to do with the body?" Nathan asked.
"You let me worry about that." Josiah picked the dead woman up like a sack of potatoes and draped her over his shoulder. "Can you cut the camera feed to the penthouse elevator from here?" Nathan went to the console and began pushing buttons. After a moment, he nodded to his lover.
"What will happen to them?" Chris asked.
Another wave of vertigo passed over him and he found himself in another room. Nathan was staring down the barrel of an imported semi automatic. Three big goons were ransacking the shelves and drawers while the fourth kept Nathan in the easy chair.
"You tell Johnny Nim that he'll regret this. By the time I'm finished with him, he won't have enough left to tip a paper boy," Nathan snarled.
"Mister Nim has a message for you," the man replied with a grin. Suddenly, the double doors of the bedroom suite burst open and two men struggled in bearing Josiah between them. Nathan's eyes widened as his lover was allowed to slump to the floor. Two bloody holes in his back gave testament to the fact that he would never rise again.
"No! Josiah!" Nathan sobbed as he went to his knees, pulling Josiah's body over onto his lap. When he raised his eyes to look at the man holding the gun, two bullets struck him in the chest. His body jerked with each impact before slumping over, as if protecting his lover even in death.
Chris sighed as he watched the men jeering over the dead bodies of his friends before they left the suite. No matter what they had done, they didn't deserve to die like that, executed by a petty thug.
"What about the others? What happened to them?"
"You haven't seen enough yet?" Clarence asked just before the suite blurred and reformed into a hallway.
"Where are we?" Chris asked, his eyes narrowing in recognition.
"I'm sure you recognize the hallowed halls of Denver Memorial Hospital," the angel replied enigmatically.
They stopped in front of room 707. When Chris hesitated, Clarence stepped through the closed door and disappeared inside. Chris backed up a step in surprise, waiting for the angel to reappear.
"Are you coming, Christopher?" asked the disembodied voice. "Or are you afraid to face the truth."
With a shrug, Chris reached for the doorknob. His hand passed right through it.
"You're not really here, remember?" came Clarence's voice, almost teasing. "Just step on in."
Chris closed his eyes and held his hands out in front of him before venturing a foot forward. Another couple of steps and he was standing inside the all too familiar-looking hospital room. His eyes opened slowly, then widened in shock. "Buck?" he whispered, shaking his head in denial.
There on the bed lay the body of his oldest friend, a tangle of wires and tubes leading to and from blinking and beeping machines and dripping IV's that bordered the far side of the bed. The hissing release of the ventilator breathing for the unconscious man sent chills through Chris. The hollow eye sockets, sunken cheeks barely visible beneath the oxygen mask and the emaciated torso was barely recognizable, but the marker at the foot of the bed that read 'Wilmington, B' only confirmed what Chris did not want to admit.
"What happened to him?" Chris whispered.
"Where would you like to start?" Clarence asked.
Chris took his eyes off Buck just long enough to glare in reply.
"All right, let me ask you this," Clarence asked. "Where did you first meet Buck?"
"In the Seals," Chris replied, his eyes closing as the memory of two young sailors from totally different backgrounds bonded in the rigors of training and the danger of the missions they were involved in washed over him. He couldn't help but smile at the picture in his mind of the two of them all decked out in their dress blues as they stumbled down the streets of New Orleans during Mardi Gras on their last tour of duty, both of them drunker than skunks. They had been celebrating their last mission, the one where Chris had saved Buck's life and Buck had bought Chris enough margaritas to float the ship they had been transported back on.
Suddenly Chris's head shot up. "Wait a minute! If I wasn't there to save his life, then he shouldn't be here now."
"Do you honestly think you were the only Navy Seal capable of doing the job?" Clarence asked as he fixed Chris with a dubious gaze. "He was lucky enough to work with a fine group of young men, but he never really made any lifelong friends. He had been in the Navy about six years, then one day..."
Chris experienced a wave of vertigo as the hospital room dissolved into a dark alleyway. A door opened and the light and sounds that spilled out into the alley told Chris he was behind a bar. A man came out of the door, practically dragging a struggling woman with him. Every time she tried to pull away, he would jerk her along. Chris spun around looking for Clarence, but the angel was nowhere to be found. Shrugging his shoulders, he took a step toward the Latino couple when the door slammed open again and out charged a very angry, much-younger Buck. Chris instinctively tried to step out of the way, reacting in surprise when Buck strode past him like he wasn't there.
"Excuse me," the clean-shaven man mumbled without slowing down. "Hey you!" Buck called. "She said she didn't want to go with you. Now let her go!"
"This is none of your concern, gringo," the man called over his shoulder without turning around. "This is between the woman and me."
Chris's eyes widened in shock when the dark-haired woman turned toward her would-be rescuer.
"Please senor, do not interfere," a very young Inez said, "I do not want anyone to get hurt." And while she put as much courage as she could muster into her voice, her eyes were pleading for help.
"Don't you worry, darlin'. He ain't gonna hurt me," Buck replied with a reassuring grin. "Are you, amigo?"
"Go back inside and mind your own business," the dark-skinned man said threateningly. "The woman and I have some things to discuss."
"I have nothing to say to you," Inez countered defiantly, pulling her arm out of his grasp.
The move put Inez a step closer to Buck, who managed to get a hold of her flailing arm and pull her behind him before the other man could grab at her again. "You heard the lady. She's got nothing to say to you, so why don't you just walk away."
"Senor, please," Inez cautioned, as she tried to work her way around him. But Buck held out his arm and kept her protectively behind him.
"You say she is a lady," the man said lowly, taking a step towards Buck and extending his hand toward Inez. "She is nothing but a common thief. It is you who should walk away while you can."
"You try and touch her again, and you won't be in any shape to walk away," Buck growled, moving both of them a step further away.
Behind Chris, the door opened again and three more Hispanics came into the alley. As Chris opened his mouth to call out a warning, Clarence suddenly appeared at his side and placed a hand on Chris's arm, shaking his head in warning.
"You are in no position to be making threats," the man said, a menacing leer on his face.
Suddenly Buck was grabbed from behind by two sets of strong arms. In the scuffle, Inez was able to twist away from them and she hurried toward the door.
"INEZ!" the angry man called as she disappeared back into the bar. "Raphael, go get her!"
One of the newcomers turned and headed back toward the bar, but tripped over his own feet. Clarence once again shook his head, giving Chris a disapproving frown.
The door slammed shut before the man could scramble to his feet. Raphael made a lunge toward the knob just as the sound of the lock being turned could be heard. He turned toward the group with a questioning look.
"Never mind!" the other man said, turning back to the struggling Buck. "We'll have some fun with this one."
"Paulo!" Raphael hissed. "No! Three on one, this is not honorable. Your father would not approve."
"Silencio, Raphael," Paulo growled in reply. "My father is not here."
"I will not be a part of this," Raphael replied, backing out of the alleyway. He disappeared around the corner, ignoring Paulo calling him back.
Buck used the diversion to try to break out of the grasp the other two had him in. The bigger of the two kicked out and connected with Buck's left knee, sending him down to the ground. Paulo turned his attention back to them, jerking his head at the other two. They yanked Buck back up to his feet, barely supporting his weight between them as he tried to balance on the injured leg.
"My name is Paulo Cortez, and you are going to learn what it means to interfere in my family's business," he said. Suddenly there was a nasty-looking switchblade in his hand and he waved in menacingly across Buck's throat.
"Oh hell no," Chris declared aloud. Even as he clenched his fists tightly and took a step toward the small group, the vertigo returned and an instant later he was back in the dark hospital room. "Why the hell did you do that?" Chris heatedly demanded.
"You don't exist, you can't interfere," Clarence replied gently.
He turned back to the figure on the bed. "He's been like this all these years, ever since that night?" Chris asked, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat.
"Oh heavens no," Clarence hurried to assure him. "He was hurt that night, but not like this. All things considered, that night ended pretty well for young Mister Wilmington."
Chris turned skeptical green eyes toward the angel.
"Inez called 911 and the police arrived in time to save his life," Clarence continued. "Buck put up quite a fight before they got there, in spite of the odds against him. Just as one of the squad cars turned into the alley, Paulo stabbed Buck in the back. By the time the ambulance transported him to the hospital, he had lost a lot of blood and it was touch and go for a while. Even though she didn't know who he was, Inez found out what hospital he was taken to and she spent all night there, waiting for him to come out of surgery. He also had a severe concussion, a couple of broken ribs and that kick you witnessed shattered his knee."
"And this is good how?" Chris interrupted in exasperation.
Clarence shook his head and smiled at Chris. "The concussion gave Buck a case of temporary amnesia, and Inez was just familiar enough to him that she was able to convince him and the hospital that she was his girlfriend. When he did start getting his memory back, he was more than happy to go along with the charade. They had plenty of time to get to know one another while he recuperated, and she invited him to stay with her when he was finally released. By that time, they were hopelessly in love."
Chris smiled at the idea of Buck and Inez as a happy couple. Then an idea crossed his mind. "What about the Seals?"
Clarence offered Chris a sympathetic smile. "That didn't turn out quite as well. The knee did heal, but not well enough for the Navy. He was allowed to resign his commission and given an honorable discharge. While he was still trying to decide what to do with the rest of his life, he ran into the officers that were there that night. Buck and Inez had to give their statements to the investigators, and one of the officers was impressed enough with Buck to suggest he try the police academy. He wasn't sure that's what he wanted to do at first, but once he made it through the academy and spent some time on the job, he loved it. Inez was very supportive, and they were married the day after he finished his year's probation."
"Married? Buck and Inez?" After all the years he had watched Inez put Buck in his place time and time again, Chris couldn't help but be surprised. Then his expression darkened. "What about that son of a bitch Cortez?"
"I believe the expression is slam dunk," Clarence replied with a shake of his head. "With both officers testifying against him, Paulo spent the rest of his short life in a prison cell. His father was one of the wealthiest landowners in Ecuador. He agreed to pay for Buck's medical bills, along with a substantial settlement for Buck himself, in order to guarantee a lighter sentence for his son. For all the good it did, Paulo was given a lighter sentence than he deserved. The third year of his incarceration, he got into a fight with another inmate and he was beaten to death."
Chris shook his head slowly. "So what happened? Why is Buck here? Like this?"
Before Clarence could reply, the door slowly opened and another familiar figure made his way into the room. Once again Chris was taken by surprise at JD's appearance. But it wasn't the JD he knew. The younger man looked different; Chris couldn't help but think he looked tired - and old. He watched as JD shuffled to the bedside and pulled the plastic chair out of the corner and moved it closer to the bed.
"Hey Buck," he said quietly, easing into the chair. "Another day, another dollar."
Chris listened as JD gave Buck what could only be a rundown of his day. But instead of ATF jargon, JD was talking in terms of computer programming. And in place of the usually animated and non-stop narrative, JD's speech was almost monotone and filled with heavy sighs. Chris looked over at Clarence, waiting for an explanation.
The angel took his time before speaking. "JD believes it's his fault Buck's in here. He quit his job with the Police Department and took a higher paying one as a computer programmer. It's the only way he can keep Buck out of a nursing home and pay his own bills as well. Inez is getting a portion of his salary and it's enough for her and the kids, but the insurance company didn't want to pay what it costs to keep him in the hospital. So JD has been paying the difference, without Inez knowing about it. He couldn't stand the idea of Buck wasting away and dying..."
"...like his mother," Chris finished in a whisper.
"Like his mother," Clarence echoed.
"So what's the rest of the story?" Chris pressed the angel. "What happened to put him here?"
"After Paulo's death, there were rumors that his father had put a contract on Buck's life," Clarence explained. "Buck and Inez took the settlement from Don Cortez and they moved to Colorado. Buck got a job with the Denver Police Department, and eventually they bought a small piece of land outside of Denver. They eventually had two daughters and a son. He did his job well and eventually became every rookie's favorite Field Training Officer. Then one day, a hotshot young officer from back East was assigned to him."
Chris looked over at Clarence in surprise. "JD?"
"Some things were meant to be," Clarence answered enigmatically. "If you remember, JD was looking for somewhere to start his life over after his mother passed away. Coming to the West was something he always dreamed of. He and Buck were like two peas in a pod, and Inez adored him. He became part of their family and Buck even gave up being an FTO to be JD's permanent partner. Pretty soon they had developed quite a reputation. Almost every undercover operation wanted them for back-up..."
Chris could feel the he familiar lightheadedness return and the room faded away again. He blinked and found himself sitting in the middle of an EMS vehicle, with a paramedic on either side.
"Remember what the Captain said," one of the EMT's was saying to the man on the other side of Chris. "You're here strictly as an observer. Stay out of the way and observe."
"What a way to spend a Friday night," the other paramedic complained. "Stuck out here, waiting for nothing to happen."
"Yeah, I hate babysitting at these stake-outs," the other agreed.
Chris glared from one man to the other and looked at his surroundings through the windshield. It looked like any of a hundred locations he had been in the past. He could see a patrol car discreetly parked out of sight of the warehouse in front of them. Movement inside the car drew his attention and he just make out the familiar silhouettes of Buck and JD. Something the younger officer was saying had his hands flying around the car, causing Buck to keep leaning back with JD just missing his face several times. Chris couldn't help but smile at the familiar antics.
Then things went to hell in a hurry! The first sign of trouble was the sound of gunfire coming from the warehouse across from Buck and JD's position. While both of the EMT's instinctively ducked, Chris leaned forward, his attention locked on his friends. Both officers came out of the patrol car in a crouching stance, using the doors to shield them. The warehouse door flew open and the alleyway erupted into bedlam. Almost everybody that came out had a gun in their hand, firing back toward the warehouse.
Then JD stood and shouted, "FREEZE! Police! Drop your weapons!" and suddenly everyone's attention was turned on him. His eyes widened and he moved to duck behind the car as a barrage of bullets 'pinged' around him.
He couldn't hear Buck's words, but Chris could see him clearly in the streetlight. In between dodging bullets, the mustached man was laying into JD with everything he had. JD was nodding furiously, then taking a shot at another defiant criminal.
Finally another cruiser, and then another, appeared on scene. The gunfire in the alley was deafening even inside the relative safety of the ambulance.
Chris watched in concern as JD inched his way further and further out from behind the cover of his patrol car. While his attention was drawn to one of the fleeing suspects, another had taken aim at the young officer. Buck yelled out a warning, but it went unheeded in the chaos. Without hesitation, Buck came out from his own position of safety and charged toward his unsuspecting partner. He managed to shove JD out of the way just as the criminal fired.
A wave of despair that washed over Chris as Buck jerked back abruptly, then went down to his knees and slowly fell back. JD managed to fire off a shot at his original target, grinning in satisfaction as the bullet clipped the man's hand, causing him to drop his gun and raise his hands in surrender to a fellow officer. He gave a quick nod before returning his attention to the firefight, oblivious to his partner lying in the open, Buck's body twitching as another stray shot hit him.
The EMT on the passenger side made a move toward the door handle of the ambulance, but the driver knocked his hand away.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"Going to help," he replied hotly. "That officer's hurt, Carlos!"
"We don't go 'til dispatch tells us the scene is secure, Jack," the driver said, pointing. "That is not secure."
Time seemed to be moving in slow motion, then several more patrol cars and a SWAT van arrived on scene. One by one the guns were thrown down and hands were raised high in the air.
Finally JD turned to Buck, an angry expression on his face as he started to say something to his partner. The anger was quickly replaced by panic as JD fell to his knees at Buck's side, shouting for help.
Chris watched helplessly as JD pulled off his jacket and used it for a pressure bandage, glancing around in desperation. His eyes locked onto the ambulance and he started to stand, waving his arms wildly to get their attention. Jack was about to jump out when the radio crackled to life, letting the paramedics know it was okay to go in.
"It's about time," Chris grumbled tersely under his breath. He followed the two EMT's to his friends' side, his eyes widening in concern at the amount of blood on the ground next to Buck's still form.
As one of the paramedics lifted JD's jacket to get a look at the injuries, midnight blue eyes fluttered open and found his young friend. He reached a hand out and JD snatched it. "Not... your fault... kid," he said, his breathing coming in labored gasps. Then his eyes closed again and the hand went limp in JD's grasp.
"Help him, please," JD pleaded, another officer gently pulled him away from his partner so the paramedics could do their job.
"We will, kid," Carlos said tersely. Then both turned their attention to the fallen officer.
As Chris stood by JD's side, he ached to put a comforting arm around JD's shoulder. After a moment, he found himself back in the hospital room once again.
Chris blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall when he looked at the shell of the JD he knew still sitting at Buck's side. "What happened? Why couldn't they save him?"
"By the time they got him to the hospital, he had lost too much blood," Clarence explained quietly. "The brain damage was beyond repair." The angel let the reality of the moment sink in before he spoke again. "Now tell me how much better off your friends would be if you had never existed? Without Chris Larabee to bring the 'Magnificent Seven' together, there was no Ezra Standish to set up an undercover operation that wouldn't be compromised; there was no Vin Tanner to use his exceptional skills to watch out for his Team; no gentle giant Josiah Sanchez to pull Buck out of harm's way; no Nathan Jackson to provide first aid until the paramedics could tend to his injuries; and maybe most important of all, no Chris Larabee to give Buck the anchor he needed to keep from slipping away."
For several long moments, the blond man stood, looking at his oldest friend. Finally, he turned to the angel. There was only one other person he wanted to see. If all six of his coworkers and friends were going to suffer because of his wish, he had to know what became of his beloved wife.
"Sarah? Can you show me what happened to her?"
The, by now, familiar disorientation descended and he found himself standing in a small, shabby living room. Four children ran through the room, yelling and pushing as they went into the kitchen. Chris moved to follow the children. When he reached the cramped room, he saw her. Sarah was positively gaunt. Her hair, once thick and lustrous, hung in limp, lifeless strands. Dark circles marred her lovely face. She swayed slightly as she stepped from the counter to the stove.
"What's wrong with her?" Chris asked anxiously.
"Ovarian cancer. I'm sorry but it's terminal. Even if she had adequate health insurance, it's too late. She had to quit her job when she started missing too much work. The children's father hasn't paid child support in almost a year so they're living on welfare. A caseworker was here last week, trying to get her to consent to giving them up but they are the only thing keeping her going. When they take them away from her in a couple of months, she'll lose the will to live."
"Even if she didn't marry me, she still dies a horrible death," Chris murmured. "It just isn't fair."
"But it is as it was meant to be. God has a plan for each of us. Maybe you can't see it right now but you really had a wonderful life. You were loved and are loved again. There are six men who are more brothers than any biological tie could ever make them. You were the catalyst for all of them. You pulled them together at a time when they needed you and each other."
"Can I take it back? Can I have my life back the way it was?" Chris asked. Another wave of vertigo washed over him and he opened his eyes slowly. "Ahhh!" he screamed as he crab walked back toward the steps. Suddenly, a warm, grassy smelling breath blew in his face. His eyes focused on the long white nose and curious brown eyes. Buck's horse lipped at the leg of his pajama bottoms and Chris pulled away before the big teeth could pinch his thigh.
Using the stair railings, Chris managed to regain his feet and grabbed hold of the horse's halter. He led the animal down to the barn, scolding him continuously. The horse tossed his head and blew loudly as if to say that he hadn't meant for the man to be harmed. Chris slapped the horse on the flank as he entered the stall. Tossing a flake of fresh hay into the bin, the blond checked the lock before heading for the house.
The moon was shining brightly in the night sky as he paused to look up at it. He heard the sliding door open and a voice like warm honey called to him. "You coming back to bed any time soon? It's awfully cold and lonely in there all by myself," Vin said.
Wrapping his arms around the naked sharpshooter, Chris nuzzled in the hollow above Vin's collarbone and up his neck. Warm arms came around and tightened, bringing his groin into contact with Vin's and wringing a moan of pure pleasure from his lips.
"Too many memories?" Vin asked softly.
"Just thinking of what could have been."
"With Sarah and Adam?"
"No ... without you and the guys. And I never want to have to live my life without all of you."
"I don't know about me but wouldn't your life be a whole lot less complicated without all of those loose cannon, rule breaking, expense report padding, preaching and nagging and practical joking bums?" Vin teased, placing a kiss between each descriptive phrase.
"I couldn't make it without each and every one of them. And if you tell them I said that, I will deny it and make you sleep in the spare bedroom for a month."
"That's low, Larabee," Vin scolded.
"I'll show you low," Chris promised, as he dragged his lover toward the bedroom.