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+ + + + + + +The silence of the Team Seven was broken when the men heard a phone slamming down in their team leader's office.
"Fuck! Goddamn it!"
All eyes were on Chris's office when the blond stormed out, slamming the door open until it banged hard against the wall. He was pulling on his jacket even as he raced through the office, keys in hand.
"Vin's been shot!"
"Oh my God."
"How bad?"
"Where is he?"
"Go! We'll follow you, Chris."
"They're taking him to Mercy General. Meet me there."
"We'll be right behind you, Stud. Take care of Junior."
By the time the others made it down the elevator, Chris was long gone. They just hoped that Chris was able to drive safely enough to keep from getting in an accident himself. Buck was berating himself that he hadn't been thinking quick enough to grab his own keys and insist that Chris ride with him. Ezra pointed out that suggesting to Mr. Larabee that he wait for even a single moment would have likely earned him to fist to his jaw.
Chris cut off another car and ignored the angry sound of a horn as he wheeled his big truck into a parking spot close to the entrance. He waited impatiently for the movement of the automatic glass doors, bursting through the second there was enough space open for his slender frame. Darting eyes quickly spotted Frank Morgan with a couple other men from Team Five, their ATF jackets standing out clearly in the crowded waiting room.
"Where is he? Where's Vin?" Chris demanded harshly.
"Chris," Frank Morgan looked up and saw Larabee approaching. He moved away from the cluster of men from his team, putting up a hand to intercept Chris's charge toward the examining room doors.
"Tanner took a hit, Chris. Two, actually. He's alive," the man hastened to reassure Team Seven's team leader, noting that the man had visibly paled at the news. "Let's sit over here."
"I'm not sitting. Just spit it out. What the hell happened? He was supposed to be in the rafters - an extra set of eyes."
"He was. That is, until we thought it was over."
"You're not making sense. I want to know how in the hell Tanner was shot. It sounds like he was on the ground."
"Listen to me, Chris. The doctors are with him now. They'll come out and tell us as soon as there's any news, but in the meantime, I'll tell you everything I know."
Larabee took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down enough to at least listen. With another look at the closed doors, he turned to focus his attention on Frank.
"Okay, tell me what happened. Was anyone else hurt?"
"One perp injured slightly. Every other agent is fine. Thanks to Tanner."
By this time the other members of Team Seven had hit the doors on a run. They clustered around Chris and Frank, but were disciplined enough to know that if they were all talking at the same time they'd learn nothing.
"How's Junior?" Buck asked, looking worriedly between Frank and Chris.
"Holding his own, Wilmington," Frank told him. He looked around at Vin's teammates and sighed heavily. "Let's step over here out of the way, shall we?"
He led the Team Seven members to a more secluded corner of the emergency room waiting area, and the agents from Team Five circled behind them. Everyone had a good view of the main doors leading to the area where Vin was currently being worked on by doctors and nurses.
"The bust went fine," Frank told them, ignoring the looks of disbelief and irritation by Vin's friends. Obviously if their friend and teammate was hurt this badly, things were not fine.
"I know," he said, putting up his hand again to still their comments. "What I meant to say was that we got everything set up well ahead of time. Tanner was in position in the rafters, the rest of us got into position, and then we waited. It took a couple more hours than we'd planned, since our information was that the drop was to happen about eleven this morning but they didn't show up until closer to two."
Chris's mouth tightened to think how bitterly cold it would have been in the top of the drafty warehouse. Vin was always cold, sometimes even in the summer. And Chris knew he hadn't been feeling well. None of this was a good situation for the Texan to begin with.
"So tell me what happened," Chris's voice was hard and flat, and Buck looked warily at the tall blond. That was a dangerous tone of voice, and Buck knew he needed to be nearby if Chris didn't start getting some answers, and fast. His oldest friend wasn't known for his patience, and he was fiercely protective of his men. Even more so when the man injured was Vin Tanner.
"We got the perps surrounded fairly easily. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary that we could tell. They didn't bring any more men than we expected, he didn't try to bargain more than we thought he would."
"Then how in the heck did Vin get shot?" JD couldn't contain his impatience any further.
"It was my fault," Eric Sutherland said, stepping forward.
None of them had noticed anything unusual about Eric, because all their attention had been focused on Frank Morgan. Now they all saw the dark stains on his dark clothing. The tall agent was covered in blood. Vin's blood.
"What the hell!" Buck snarled.
"It was stupid. It was a rookie mistake, and Vin is the one paying the price. The bust went so smoothly I got careless. It was my first operation that I had a big role in planning, and I was so busy congratulating myself that I forgot to pay attention. Turned my back on one of the muscle thinking he'd already been handcuffed. He grabbed one of the weapons on the back of the truck."
Chris had gone so pale and still that Wilmington thought he'd stopped breathing. All Chris could hear was the sound of Eric's words breaking through as if over the crash of a pounding surf that slammed in his head.
Sutherland. It was Eric's fault. Vin might die, because this other man was careless.
"Vin saw him. Damn, no one saw him. It was like Tanner knew what he was going to do before he even twitched a muscle. I would have been dead. I should have been dead. Tanner was just swinging down from the rafters and had barely unhooked his safety harness. Shit, he started running full out and I looked at him for that split second like he was crazy. He leapt for me, probably crossing an unheard of amount of space. Knocked me down with one arm shoving me to the ground and out of the way while he was firing his handgun. Hell, no one even knew he had a handgun - we just thought he had his rifle."
"Tanner was amazing," Nick Foster stepped closer from Team Five. "I've never seen anything like that - it was superhuman. I've heard stories, but never in my life have I seen a display like that."
"Mister Tanner is not a display," Ezra said, his voice quiet with tension.
"No...., of course not," Chad Jacobs protested. "It was just..., damn. He saved Eric's life. He threw his body in there and took the hit himself. Hit the perp in his arm; he won't be shooting anyone else any time soon."
"Tanner took two hits, one in the upper thigh, and one at a bad angle," Frank continued. "He'd been running but when he vaulted for Sutherland, he was nearly horizontal. That was some damn fine shooting, best I've seen. But protecting our asses got your boy nearly killed. The second bullet got him near his hip, but traveled up under his vest. The ambulance got there within minutes but he'd lost a damn lot of blood before they came. I don't know, Chris. I'm sure sorry. That boy's a hero."
"You miserable, fucking asshole!" Chris hissed, his voice low and deadly as he turned and stepped into Eric Sutherland's face. "You moronic idiot! You turned your back on a perp without checking that he was cuffed? And all because you were so goddamn proud of yourself and your success that you fucking forgot that the job isn't over until the paperwork is signed and delivered. What were you doing? Already planning what new sports car or fancy electronic toy you were going to buy with the raise that came along with your promotion?"
"Hold on there, Stud," Buck soothed, trying to reach for Chris's arm.
His efforts were met by a stony glare that had him flinching from the fury reflected in those ice green eyes.
"Shut the fuck up, Buck," Chris snarled, shaking his arm away.
JD and the others instinctively stepped back. The men from both teams exchanged uneasy glances.
"Chris," Josiah stepped forward. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation in a more ... suitable location."
Larabee was too enraged and distraught to notice the uneasy looks their group was getting by other nervous patrons in the hospital waiting area. All he could think was that Vin was hurt. He was shot. Vin might die. His leg was shot and a second bullet had gone under his vest doing God only knew what damage. Because this asshole was careless and stupid and didn't have the brains God gave a slug. He'd lost too much blood.
Vin might die.
"Oh, god," Chris whispered.
Eric had been pale and greenish looking when they'd come in, but now stood taller, and met the senior agent's furious glare. His shoulders straightened, and Ezra saw something change in the younger man. He wasn't the cocky, slightly arrogant model-handsome man they'd known him to be. In his place was a humble, repentant, and immensely grateful federal agent.
"Vin Tanner saved my life. I'm so, so sorry. It was a stupid, senseless mistake that I deeply regret. I can't tell you how horrible I feel. I accept full responsibility, and will do whatever I can to make this right. A good agent was injured because of me, and that's something I'll have to live with the rest of my life."
"Make it right! Make it right?" Chris's voice rose in fury, and he couldn't care less how many heads turned toward their direction. "Just how in the hell do you plan to make it right? My agent is lying on a hospital bed right now, bleeding his life away, and you say you're sorry?"
"Larabee...., Stud...," Buck soothed, trying to calm the senior agent.
"Chris, we're all praying for Vin Tanner," Frank Morgan moved to stand between the two men, using his bulk to break the eye contact of the two equally tall men glaring at each other eye to eye.
Buck's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He knew that Chris and Vin had always had a unique connection. He admitted that he'd resented Chris's easy and immediate friendship with the younger man. It took Chris a long time to accept anyone, and people had to earn his trust before getting a grudging respect from the demanding blond. But with Vin, there had been an instant and astonishing rapport. Buck had been hurt and jealous for a long time, until he finally came to realize that the young Texan was good for Chris, and brought back the man he'd been before the deaths of his wife and child. Buck had finally come to realize that it was perhaps Tanner, and not himself, who had saved Chris's life from the path of destruction he'd been on before the scrawny-assed, long-haired, achingly young man with the achingly old eyes had strolled into their lives and onto their team.
Chris looked ready to take a swing at Eric, and didn't seem to care that the man was contrite and truly hurting over the situation he'd caused. Buck's eyes narrowed, beginning to wonder just what all was behind Larabee's anger. He'd seen the man upset before, and Chris would be troubled and worried about any of them if they'd been hurt. But this level was extreme even for him. Buck glanced around and saw that the other team members noticed that Chris's distress was inordinately high. He saw varying degrees of emotions and pointed looks being exchanged among his teammates, and wondered briefly what the agents from Team Five were thinking.
Before he could reach for Chris's arm to stop him from hitting the younger man, they were figuratively and literally saved from a further explosion when the doors to the examining area swung open.
Chris pushed past everyone and rushed toward the doctor.
"Who is here for Vin Tanner?"
"How is he, Doctor? What's happening? Can I see him?" Chris demanded, his eyes flashing and his glare in full leadership mode.
The doctor was a tall, raw-boned, gray-haired woman with a no-nonsense attitude. She was clearly not impressed nor intimidated by Chris Larabee.
"My name is Dr. Frances Cooper, and I've been working on Mr. Tanner. He's being prepped for surgery now."
"I'm Chris Larabee. I have Vin's power of attorney; the forms are on file here and I'll sign anything you need. How is he?"
Dr. Cooper looked around the room, taking in the nearly dozen anxious faces. Her patient clearly had a lot of people worried about him. She sighed heavily and straightened her shoulders, turning her attention to the tall blond who was obviously their leader.
"I'll be frank with you, Mr. Tanner's situation is critical. He took a bullet in his thigh that nicked an artery, and he lost a lot of blood until the ambulance crew could get the bleeding under control. The bullet that hit under his vest did a lot of damage, and we need to get in there and see what all is happening in there. We suspect from preliminary examinations and early x-rays that it may have torn through part of his stomach and we know that it entered his lung. The situation is made even more critical because Mr. Tanner was already running a high fever."
She frowned and looked pointedly at them.
"Did you know he had bronchitis? The x-rays of his lungs show that he's also in the early stages of pneumonia."
Chris gasped and paled, and Buck stepped closer in case he needed to offer a hand to Chris's arm, nearly expecting the man to collapse.
"No," he hissed, turning his glare onto Frank Morgan. "I didn't know he had pneumonia."
Frank shook his head. "I thought he looked a little pale, but he kept away from the rest of us when we were setting up. I'd heard he's somewhat of a loner except when he's with his own team. I just assumed that this was how he prepared for these types of situations."
"You know Vin goes to ground when he's sick, Chris," Josiah stepped up on the other side of Larabee, offering his presence for support. "That boy would do anything to keep people from knowing he's hurting."
"I daresay it would have been somewhat difficult for even us to have known he was ill, knowing Mr. Tanner's extreme skill at managing to insist that he's fine."
"You let him do this," Chris turned his anger toward Morgan. "You should have pulled him!"
"Would you have pulled him?" Frank demanded.
"Gentlemen. Please," Dr. Cooper interrupted. "This is not the time or the place for blame and pointing fingers. What's done is done and Mr. Tanner's condition is what it is."
"What..., what are his chances?" JD's timid voice spoke up from the back of the cluster of agents.
The doctor sighed heavily, and the men visibly deflated at that telling gesture.
"He's young, he's obviously strong and in good physical shape other than his current illness. That is definitely a plus. I have two teams of surgeons prepping. One will be concentrating on the damage to his lungs and other internal organs, and I have a top vascular surgeon standing by who will work on Mr. Tanner's leg. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be getting back to my patient. Do you need directions to the surgical waiting room?"
"No," Nathan spoke up. "We know our way to find it."
The doctor left and there was an uneasy silence.
"Chris...."
"Leave it, Buck," the tall blond snapped. "Just..., leave it."
He turned and strode away, exiting the hospital by the front doors. Everyone else stood and looked at each other, puzzled and bewildered by their leader's behavior.
"I'm..., I uh..., I need to get back to the office and start the paperwork cleanup," Frank told Buck. "I'll check in with you, call the hospital to see how Tanner's doing. You'll call me if anything changes, all right?"
"Of course. Thanks, Frank."
The man looked exhausted, lines of worry creased his face and his shoulders slumped.
"He doesn't blame you," Buck told the older man, then turned to include Eric Sutherland. "He doesn't blame either of you. Not really. I hope you know that. It's just..."
"He cares about Vin," Eric stated. "Very much. I know that the stories about Team Seven and how close you all are to each other are true - Tanner never stopped talking about all of you. And having him get hurt, and having him hurt because he threw himself in front of a bullet to save my sorry ass...."
His voice trailed off and they wondered whether the tall young man was going to throw up.
Buck reached out and placed a hand on Eric's arm.
"He'll be okay," Buck told Eric, but it didn't sound convincing even to his own ears.
"Just..., take care of him. All of you...," Eric looked around at Vin's teammates with a small smile. "God, you all mean so much to him. And I can see how much he means to you. He's lucky to have you. I only pray you know how lucky you are to have him."
"We do, Son. We surely do," Josiah replied, and the others nodded.
"Well. I've got a report to write. And believe me, this is going to be one of the hardest things I've ever done. I'll..., I'll be back as soon as I can."
Then Eric looked uncertainly at the doors where the black-clad team leader had vanished.
"That is..., if I'd be welcomed...."
Ezra and Nathan exchanged uneasy glances with the others.
"Perhaps it might be wise to check with one of us first," he suggested smoothly. "We'd hate the surgical team to have another patient to work on if things do not go well with Mr. Tanner."
The blue-gray eyes closed briefly and the dark head nodded once.
"That's pretty much what I was thinking. But I'll call, okay? It would be all right if I called?"
"Absolutely."
Finally the five remaining members of Team Seven were left in the lobby, as the last of Team Five went back to the office to meet up with the others who'd stayed at the scene. They looked at each other, and Buck's eyes hardened.
"Is it just me, or did Chris seem a little more...., distraught than usual?"
"I'm not sure I understand what it is that you're implying," Ezra replied, his voice a little cool.
"You know that Chris would worry about any of us!" JD protested.
"I ain't sayin' Chris wouldn't be worried," Buck rolled his eyes in disgust. "I'm just sayin' that he seems a little more...concerned. More than his normal concern."
Ezra and Josiah looked at each other briefly. Buck was raising some questions that neither man felt ready to examine too closely. JD looked irritated at Buck, and confused about his anger toward Chris. Nathan just looked puzzled.
"Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us that we're apparently not picking up on?" Ezra asked.
"I'm saying...," Buck hissed, as if he was dealing with a group of small, unintelligent children, "...that Chris don't nearly pass out, or go ballistic, or vanish into thin air if the rest of us get hurt. I'm saying..., Chris has always had an ... unusual... friendship with Tanner. And I'm saying.... Hell. I don't know what I'm saying."
"None of us are thinking clearly right now, Buck," Nathan said soothingly, but there was a frown of concentration on his face. "We all heard the doctor - it's going to be hours before Vin is out of surgery. Why don't we get something to eat, or at least get a cup of coffee. I'll find the nurse's station and let them know where they can find us. Raine will be here in another couple hours for her shift, and hopefully she'll be able to keep us informed."
Buck sighed heavily, then shrugged.
"Guess I better go find Chris."
"Maybe I should go, Buck," Josiah offered, making clear it was more than a suggestion. "I think you've got a lot on your mind right now, and everyone's emotions are a little too close to the surface."
Nathan went over to the nurse's station to tell an administrator that the men were going for coffee and would then find their way to the surgical waiting area. Buck and JD let Ezra lead the way to the cafeteria, and for once Standish was silent in his displeasure at drinking cafeteria coffee. Josiah headed outside to where he knew there was a small garden with secluded benches for use by waiting families. It was in the corner of the walled in garden that he found Chris on one of those benches.
The big man stopped a moment, feeling the pain and worry and fear that radiated from every cell of Chris's body. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. If anyone was in need of comfort right now it was Chris Larabee. Whether he'd be able to offer any such comfort, only God knew. Right now he prayed for strength to be that comfort.
"Chris."
The softly spoken word cause Larabee to tense, then look up slowly. The face looking down at him held only compassion. Then a flash of stark fear flew into the ice green eyes.
"Vin! Is...?"
"He's all right. It's not that, Chris. I'm sorry. I never meant to scare you. Brother Vin is up in surgery now."
Chris struggled to relax.
"The others went for coffee, then they'll meet us in the surgical waiting room. Nathan was letting the staff know where to find us. I just came out to sit with you," Josiah answered the unspoken questions.
"God, Josiah. Vin. I knew he was sick. I saw him. That little shit tried to hide it from me. I knew he'd been avoiding me, but I really thought it was the stress and pressure of this job. I know him. He'd prepare and over prepare for any job with us. But he wanted to do especially well for them. I've been thinking about it, Josiah. It came to me that he wanted to do well for them - for my sake. He wanted to make a good impression - for me; for my team. He would go to any lengths or do whatever it took to make Team Seven look good."
"Don't you think that's a little egotistical, Chris?"
"It would be, if it was me who was thinking that way. But it's not. That's how Vin thinks. Anything that he did for himself wouldn't be for him, wouldn't be for his glory or commendations or letters in his file. He'd be thinking that it would make the team look good. That another team would have even more respect for us and our reputation would be enhanced."
"But Vin would do the same for us. He'd do the same for any team."
"I know. And I'm not saying that Vin wouldn't have done the same for any of us. He would have thrown himself between anyone who was going to be shot or in danger. That's just who he is. But do you know what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, Chris. I think I do. Nobody has a deeper sense of responsibility than that boy does."
"But he went out there when he was already really sick. Sitting in the cold would have hell on him, and those extra several hours would have made it that much worse. Shit, Josiah! He probably would have ended up in the hospital even without being shot."
"Would you have pulled him?"
Chris stared hard at the big profiler, ice green eyes meeting calm blue.
Finally he sighed heavily and turned away.
"No. Because that's who he is. He puts everything and everyone before himself. And that's one of the reasons I ...."
Chris froze.
"You love him?"
Chris turned again, glaring at the big man in anger, but Sanchez saw a little bit of fear there also, perhaps.
"You love Vin like a brother, Chris. We've all seen that. But perhaps there's a little bit more there."
"Don't worry, Chris," Josiah rushed to reassure the team leader. "I'm not presuming anything, and I'm not asking. I know that Vin means a lot to all of us, and if he means just a little bit more to you..., well...., all I can say is that you've been good for each other. Vin needs someone in his life. I'm glad he found you."
With that enigmatic comment, Josiah stood and looked down to Chris.
"Let's go up to him, Chris. He'll know you're there. I truly believe that."
The hours passed slowly. Chris alternately paced a hard pattern back and across the small waiting area, trying to force himself not to look at the clock, and appalled at the small movement of the passage of time when he allowed himself to look. When he wasn't pacing he threw himself into a chair, sitting tense and rigid. The others clustered together, talking softly to themselves or quietly praying. They opened old magazines only to toss them aside after a few minutes. Nathan would slip out of the room periodically, but shake his head when he returned. There was no information for them, nothing they wanted to hear. They could only continue to pray and hold out hope, knowing that as long as Vin was in surgery at least that meant he was still alive.
Buck, however, spent the time glaring at Chris or sighing impatiently. He'd wasn't sure what he felt. He didn't want to be feeling the way he was feeling. And he sure as hell didn't want to be thinking the kinds of things he was thinking. They couldn't be together. Not that way. Not his oldest friend. Fuck! Chris had been married. He'd had a child. Buck had stood up for him at his wedding and been godfather and surrogate uncle to his son.
Chris dated. After the dark several months following the death of Sarah and Adam when Chris's grief no longer threatened to destroy him, Chris had allowed himself to be set up on dates or double-dates with Buck. Hell, he took Mary out all the time. She was an attractive widow, if a little cool and aloof at times. Her platinum beauty went well with Chris's striking good looks. They were both powerful and influential, with money and innate authority that people looked up to and respected. No way was Chris....
He couldn't even think the word to himself.
And Vin. What about him? The man had been a Ranger in Special Forces! He'd been in one of the toughest branches of the military at the highest expertise and clearance levels, for Chrissakes. Don't ask/don't tell only went so far, and it wasn't that far. He'd been a US Marshall and bounty hunter, taking in only the toughest and most notorious criminals wanted for the worst and most heinous crimes.
Sure, Vin was attractive. Buck winced at the memory of seeing him at the Saloon that night, the slip of bare, tanned skin peaking so tantalizingly above the low-slung jeans. His face burned at the memory of the comments he'd made - to Chris of all people. Shit. He'd practically admitted that he was tempted to throw Vin over the pool table and fuck him senseless.
But Vin couldn't help how he looked. It wasn't his fault that he had small bones and somewhat delicate features. Anyone who suggested he looked weak wouldn't make that same mistake again; Vin could tear them apart piece by piece. He'd seen that boy riled, and seen him fight. It wasn't an experience he'd ever wish for himself.
And Tanner certainly didn't go out of his way to look feminine. The long hair notwithstanding, and they'd learned hints that Vin kept it long for a couple reasons. One had to do with his interest in Native American history and the belief he harbored that there might be some hint of Native American ancestry in his far distant past. And the other clue they'd gotten as to why he kept his hair long had to do with the hellish childhood he'd endured and barely survived, when everything he had could, and in many times was, taken from him. His hair was the one thing they could take away by cutting it off, but he always grew it back. Now that it was something he had control over he held onto it with the tenacity and stubbornness that spoke of his will to not only survive but to overcome and triumph.
Vin wasn't.... gay. He couldn't be.
Tanner was never seen wearing anything remotely elegant or fussy, except under extreme duress as part of the job or the rare social occasion as was required for the job, and even then he was dragged into it kicking and screaming. Their entire team had gasped collectively the first time they'd gotten a look at Vin in the tuxedo that was mandatory dress for the ATF awards and honors banquet. Damn, the way that boy cleaned up was a pure miracle. Yet that wasn't the way he would dress unless forced to. No, Vin was all man, dressed in layers of cotton and soft thermal and flannel unless on very hottest of days. Hell, even the first time they'd seen that skinny, scrawny kid bounty hunter he'd been wearing a cowboy hat and boots, with a long tan duster swirling around those long, denim-clad legs.
Buck blinked with sudden insight.
The layers. Vin always wore layers of clothes. Sure, the boy was always cold, but at the same time the layers of tee shirts under soft thermal shirts under flannel shirts only added bulk. Buck sighed as his memory was flooded with the image of the first time they'd seen the young Texan at the warehouse. He'd been wearing cowboy boots, slim but well-worn jeans and a blindingly white tee-shirt. But overtop of that swirled that long, tan duster. Everything Vin did was crafted to make himself look taller and bigger and bulkier than was his true slight, bordering on skinny, build.
Buck sighed heavily and leaned his head backward against the wall with an audible thunk. JD and Nathan looked over at him with concern, but he merely shook his head at them that he was all right.
Shit. He'd never seen Vin dating anyone. Buck had just assumed that the younger man was too painfully shy to get up the confidence to ask anyone out. Heaven knew that every woman in the federal building was after him, whether they were of a suitable or appropriate age, or even whether or not they were married. If not for themselves, they were interested in persuading him to meet their daughters or nieces or even granddaughters.
Buck felt his stomach clenching and looked hard at Chris. None of that meant anything. His mind was just playing tricks on him; he was thinking too hard and reading into a situation something that just wasn't there. Just because they never saw the shy Texan dating anyone didn't mean he wasn't. Hell, everyone knew how fiercely the younger man guarded his privacy. It was miracle they knew anything about him at all.
Or was the information they learned things they'd merely overheard him telling Chris?
Fuck! He needed some air.
Buck leapt to his feet, the sound of his chair hitting the wall startled them all. Even Chris looked up and met his eyes.
The pain in those deep green eyes hit Buck like a fist to the stomach. All the air seemed to whoosh out of his lungs, and the room tunneled in his vision until there was nothing there but Chris's eyes. He'd seen pain like that one time before. When Chris was agonizing and grieving over what had happened to the love of his life.
No! It wasn't.... It couldn't be.
But it was.
And Buck knew it was true. Chris loved Vin. Not like a brother, not closer than a brother. Chris Larabee, his best and oldest friend, was in love. In love with a man. In love with Vin Tanner, who was bleeding to death and might not survive the surgery he was undergoing just a few short feet away down a long, cold hallway. And Buck realized in that brief second that if Vin died, Chris would die too. There were be no coming back from this one. There would be no third chance at love and happiness.
"I..., I need some air," Buck's voice croaked, harsh and cracking with emotion.
"Buck."
That one soft word froze the big man in his tracks. He turned slowly.
For a long moment pain-filled green eyes stared into dark blue.
"You're coming back?"
The quiet intensity of Larabee's voice was far more calm than either man felt. The question held so much more meaning than any of the other agents realized, but both senior agent and second in command were frozen, while all the unspoken questions and meanings were asked and considered until decisions were made.
Buck visibly released the tension in his shoulders, and there was an answering relief in Chris's eyes.
"Yeah. I'm coming back."
The blond nodded, his thanks and gratitude conveyed in that one small gesture. Buck nodded back, a faint smile of acceptance and knowledge on his face. He'd be back. He really did have some thinking to do, but then he'd be there for Chris and for Vin Tanner. In whatever capacity they needed him to be there for them, he would be. Chris was too important to him, too valuable of a friend to give up on just because he'd found love somewhere unexpected and unconventional. And Buck would be a damn big fool if he turned his back on Vin Tanner and became just one more brutal monster in a long line of brutal monsters in that boy's young life.
By the time Buck made it to the front doors, he was more relaxed and almost smiling. Hot damn. Chris Larabee in love with that scrawny little Texan. Talk about love moving in mysterious ways!
Buck had barely made it back into the waiting area when the doors to the surgical suites swung open. Dr. Cooper came out looking exhausted and grim. Chris had stood quickly when the doors opened but felt his legs threaten to buckle under him at the expression on her face. Seeing the man turn white, she hastened to reassure him.
"Mr. Tanner made it through the surgery. I won't lie to you. It was touch and go and we nearly lost him a couple times. Your friend is a fighter. Not many would have made it this far."
The men were relieved but far too overwhelmed to feel any elation. The news thus far was good, but it was clear the battle for Vin's life was far from over. After letting the news sink in, she continued.
"Do you mind if we sit?" she asked.
They gestured for the doctor to sit, and then pulled chairs around to sit close to listen.
"That being said," she continued, "Mr. Tanner's condition is still critical. There was more damage to the leg than we initially thought, and we had to give him several units of blood. However, he was operated on by one of the top surgeons in the country in this area of specialization, and Dr. Montgomery is confident of complete healing and recovery."
"So Vin's leg will be fine!" JD interrupted, sounding excited and happy.
"He will require a long period of rest and then extensive physical therapy, but the prognosis is very positive."
"You do know that Vin is a federal agent," Nathan hesitated to ask, risking a sideways glance at Chris's face. Only the twitch of muscles bunched near his jaw gave away any reaction he had to that question. "There are ..., rigorous physical tests demanded for re-certification."
"As I said before, he's young and was obviously very physically strong. The repairs to the vein and muscles will heal completely. Not that it will be easy, but from Mr. Tanner's physical condition I can tell that he's used to hard, intense, and challenging workouts. With the support and encouragement of his friends," she smiled faintly at the circle of anxious faces, "I suspect he'll do whatever it takes to meet those challenges."
"But the rest," Chris could wait no longer. "What about the internal damage from the bullet under his vest?"
She sighed and took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and looking directly at Chris when she spoke.
"We replaced several units of blood, as I've said. There was extensive bleeding in his leg, but he also lost a lot of blood during the abdominal surgery. The bullet went through part of his stomach. We had to remove a tiny part of it, but that should be relatively unnoticeable. It's nowhere near what is done for gastric bypass surgery on obese patients, but once he's healed Vin should see no difference in the amount of food he can eat at any one time."
The men exchanged rueful glances. When Vin was healthy and hungry, he could eat an impressive amount of food. It caused no small resentment among the others to see Vin eating donuts and deserts and cheeseburgers and pizza, when if any of them ate half that much they'd weigh three hundred pounds. As it was, he was by far the lightest of any of them.
"When I said that the injury to his leg was worse than we originally thought, the good news is that the second bullet did less internal damage than was suspected. It was significant, but he was less torn up inside than maybe even he should have been. It turns out that the bullet was slowed down by breaking a rib, but that stopped it from ripping up his lungs any further. We managed to extract the bullet from the lower region of the left lung, and got everything stitched and repaired so that he should heal nicely."
"It's very hard to sit and worry and wait," Josiah's low rumble was soothing and helped calm all their nerves. "But we're very grateful to you, Dr. Cooper. I know it was hard on you and your surgical team to spend that many hours in surgery. We appreciate the care you took and your skill in operating on Brother Tanner."
"Yes. Well. You're welcome. I do appreciate your kind words. And while I am guardedly optimist, I'm at the same time very concerned about the condition of Mr. Tanner's health when he came in here - before he was shot. Pneumonia is always a danger and a risk after this type of surgery, but I believe Mr. Tanner was fighting a case of pneumonia before he was shot. The lungs were filled with blood and fluid, and he'll require full oxygen for some time. At this point we have to wait and see before we'll know if there is permanent damage or scarring of his lungs."
"Oh my god," Buck gasped, and Chris went a further shade of white.
"I know I've given you a lot to think about. Unfortunately, with medicine there are no hard and fast answers. In every case what looks promising can turn bad in an instant, but what looks grim can also result in a patient making a remarkable and even surprising recovery. We'll do everything in our power to ensure that Mr. Tanner falls in the latter category. I must get back to him now, but the head nurse can page me if you have any other concerns I can answer for you."
"Thank you, Doctor," Chris stood, shaking her hand firmly. "I know you've done everything you can for him. I'm grateful to you for that."
"I'll be in touch, and the nurse will come get you as soon as you can see him in recovery."
Once the doors closed behind her, the men turned to each other for support. Each man felt a mixture of relief and elation that Vin had survived the surgery, and that there was a guarded prognosis for a full recovery. At the same time there was fear and dread that the pneumonia could still kill him, and that the next several hours and days would be critical.
It seemed forever until the nurse came to get Chris to go back.
"Chris?"
The man in black froze, before turning to face the big man. Buck rubbed a shaking hand over his mustache, but the eyes that met Chris's held nothing but compassion.
"Tell Junior we need him to hurry up and get better. We need him. He belongs to us. And he'd better not even think of doing anything less or I'll come in there and whip his scrawny butt. You tell him I said so."
Chris's lips twitched the faintest amount, and he nodded.
"I'll tell him."
Chris had tried to steel his nerves, had tried to warn himself that it would be bad. But he wasn't nearly prepared for the sight that met him when he reached Vin's bedside. That couldn't be Vin. At first he wasn't even sure there was a body in there, only bandages and wires and tubes in a complicated tangle surrounding every part of Vin's body. Needles were taped in place on Vin's hands and arms, and blood and fluid and antibiotics were being pumped into him at various locations along his arms and hands. There was a tube coming out of his chest for drainage, it seemed as if bandages covered nearly every inch that wasn't connected to a tube or wire.
The skin that he could see was either black and purple or dark, angry red, but what wasn't bruised was so stark white it was almost blue. The tan lay like a sick coating over nearly bloodless skin, and Tanner's lips and fingernails were blue. The veins in his eyelids showed clearly, and Chris staggered closer to the bed hardly believing it was really his lover and not some horrible mistake.
Vin's leg was in a heavy brace, propped high and tightly suspended to keep it from moving or being jostled. Chris saw the toes peeking out of the air cast, and knew that when Tanner woke up his feet would be cold. It was amazing what a person would think of at a time like this, he suddenly realized. All the wires and tubes and pneumonia and surgery and bullet wounds, and he was worried because Vin's toes would be cold.
But perhaps the most disturbing was the oxygen mask that wheezed and pumped loudly as it carried badly needed oxygen to Vin's damaged and diseased lungs. Vin hated having any sort of restraint, and Chris knew that he'd hate the tubes in his mouth and his nose and the mask secured to his face. Even though he knew that Vin would be able to realize what was going on and understand the need for it intellectually, Chris just hoped he would be there when Vin woke up. He knew that Tanner would panic, and weak as he would be, there was always the chance he would fight against the restraints and anyone else who was there. Chris couldn't take the chance of him hurting himself further by pulling out needles or wires or tubes.
The nurse worked quietly and efficiently beside Vin, checking the monitors and recording their information on Vin's chart. She smiled softly at Chris, then down at Vin.
"I know he looks pale and it's unfortunate he needs all this equipment. It can look pretty overwhelming. But Mr. Tanner really did come out of the surgery well, and this is all for his own good."
"Vin."
"Excuse me?"
"His name is Vin. Only one person calls him Mr. Tanner."
She smiled. He noticed she had a nice smile, and looked at her name tag. Grace. It was a good name for her and fit her personality.
"All right," she nodded. Her movements were gentle as her fingers circled the slender wrist to check his pulse.
"Vin..., Vin..., can you hear me? It's time to wake up now. You've got someone here to see you. He's anxious to say hello."
Grace looked at Chris. "Talk to him. Get him to wake up. Sometimes patients respond better to their loved ones and people they know."
Chris stepped up and placed one hand on Vin's bare shoulder, the other carding over his lank, matted hair. He tried to find a place he could touch Vin that wasn't covered in bandages or wires or tubes or bruises.
"Hey, Cowboy," Chris called softly. "Need you to wake up for me. Come on, Tanner. Let me see those baby blue eyes."
Chris paused and looked at Grace, who was smiling softly at them both.
"He can come up fighting," Chris warned her. "Don't be fooled by all the tubes and wires and the fact that he's just been shot full of holes and had several hours of surgery. He doesn't like being tied down, and even on a good day can come awake fighting."
"I'll be careful. Thanks for the warning, though. It's a shame."
"What?" Chris frowned, truly puzzled.
"Whatever he went through that causes that to happen."
Larabee stared hard at her, but she met his glare with light gray eyes filled with nothing but compassion. She wasn't asking; wasn't prying. Just genuinely sorry to learn that painful experiences in his past would cause him to have these kinds of instincts. It wasn't a natural reaction, so whatever it was she knew had been a brutal trauma. He looked too young to have that kind of response to waking up in an unfamiliar situation.
"Vin..., wake up now. Come see who's here to see you."
"Cowboy..., I need you, Vin. I need to see those blue eyes."
After a few minutes the doctor came back in, and she had Chris wait across the room. He couldn't help the feeling of panic and worry when Vin hadn't woken up, and wasn't reassured when Dr. Cooper spoke quietly to Grace before coming back to talk to him.
"What's wrong?" Chris demanded.
Dr. Cooper looked a little startled by his tone, but then shook her head.
"It's nothing to be alarmed about, truly, Mr. Larabee," she spoke confidently yet quietly. "Mr. Tanner isn't waking up as quickly as we'd like. But taking into account the degree of trauma his body has suffered, it's not really that unusual. I've decided to move him into the surgical ICU. I'm assigning him to the bed in the center, closest to the nurses station. Grace will be accompanying him as his primary care nurse, and she's one of our best. We want to keep an eye on him, making sure the incisions are healing as they should but also monitoring his lungs. You'll need to go wait outside, and we'll call you in to see him as soon as he's settled into SICU."
Chris swallowed hard. He was aching to beg for reassurances that he knew the doctor just couldn't give. If he lived to be a hundred and twenty, he would never develop the patience to wait. And where Vin was concerned, he would give anything to get a promise that Vin would wake up, that he would heal, that he would be fine. That he would come home and let Chris love him and take care of him and cherish him for the rest of his life. Shit. Why couldn't anyone just promise him that. Was it really too much to ask?
"Mr. Larabee. Please."
Chris startled, unaware that he'd been frozen motionless. With a last glance at his young lover, he moved silently to return to the men on his team who were also waiting anxiously for news.
When they saw Chris's face as he came through the door, they were all visibly shaken. Chris looked horrible, and Buck gasped with fear.
"Junior...? Is he...?"
"No. He's...., he's in bad shape, Buck. He's just...., he looks terrible. He isn't waking up."
Josiah moved to one side of him and Buck to the other, as JD sagged into a chair. Ezra folded his arms tightly around his middle, and the quickened breathing was a further indication of his distress. Nathan looked more outwardly calm, but inside he was trying to think of anything he could do or any facts he could present that would relieve their minds. In his heart, though, he knew that pneumonia was dangerous in and of itself. To add the trauma of two separate gunshot wounds, two separate surgeries, and extreme blood loss on top of everything was not a positive set of circumstances by any stretch of the imagination.
The men provided what comfort they could, but Chris barely registered their voices as an annoying hum in the background. All he wanted to do was scream out his fear and rage over the fates that brought yet one more trauma to a person who so completely didn't deserve it.
Finally Raine came out, and spoke quietly to Nathan. They were all grateful to have her connection to the hospital staff. She was wonderful about getting as much information for them as possible, and being a doctor on staff had more insight and cooperation than might be afforded to non-medical personnel waiting for news of their loved ones. Raine had a good relationship with all her husband's teammates, and viewed them as an extended family of brothers. Yet she held a special fondness in her heart for the shy, devastatingly handsome Texan with the soft blush and beautiful, expressive blue eyes. When the nursing staff realized her connection to the patient she knew would soon be a favorite, she'd be bombarded with requests for introductions.
Nathan stepped away from his wife, and went over to Chris who looked up with a mixture of apprehension and just a little hope.
"Raine hasn't heard much else new. Unfortunately, Chris, it's just going to take a lot of time. She did say that they have Vin moved into SICU now. He's settled and all the numbers are still doing as well as can be expected. It's not the time for visitors in there, but she's managed to convince them that you need to be there, even for five minutes."
"Thank you, Raine. I truly appreciate everything you're doing. I know Vin will be grateful, as well."
"It's my pleasure, Chris. Dr. Cooper is a fine surgeon - one of the best. Vin's in good hands, and she takes getting her patients well very seriously.
When Chris was finally ushered into the Surgical Intensive Care Unit, he gasped. If anything, Vin looked even worse. It was hard to find Vin under the tangle of wires and tubes surrounding him and threading into and out of his body. His lover was whiter than Chris had ever seen him, as if he had been bled out completely. There wasn't much contrast between Vin and the thin sheet and bandages covering him.
Larabee walked on shaking legs until he was standing beside Vin's bed.
"God, Vin," he breathed.
Shit. Tanner looked so goddamn young. So fragile and vulnerable. Machines were hissing and beeping and clicking, the blood pressure cuff inflated at regular intervals. God, Vin would hate that.
"Come on, Tanner," Chris whispered, bending close to speak softly in his lover's ear. "You need to wake up now. I need you, Vin. We need to get you home to the ranch, but first you gotta open those baby blues for me. You know how much I love your eyes, Vin. Open them for me, baby. Please open your eyes."
Chris continued his soft litany of love and encouragement to Vin until Grace came to tell him it was time to leave. They'd given him several minutes past the promised five, and official ICU visiting time was only twenty minutes away.
The other team members surrounded Chris when he came through the doors. They looked up expectantly but Chris merely shook his head. Vin hadn't woken up yet.
Two visitors were allowed in for every patient at every ten-minute slot at the top of each hour. Chris was there, of course, the entire time. The remaining five took turns, so each could see Vin and speak to him briefly. They returned to the waiting area more shaken and worried than before.
The vigil kept by Team Seven continued through the night. If Chris had been thinking clearly, he would have realized that the others had all been to see Vin and then left, but then he was alone for long stretches of time.
Other nurses came and went, checking Vin and making notations in his chart. Occasionally one would brush her hand gently along his hair and coax him to wake up.
Finally Grace was back.
"How..., how is he?" Chris trusted her enough to ask.
"He's doing well, actually. We think he'll wake up soon. Why don't you take a little break."
"I'm not leaving him."
"No, I didn't think so," she dimpled. "But maybe you'd like to run to the restroom or stretch your legs? I'll stay right here with him."
Chris frowned and stood, suddenly realizing that both of those suggestions sounded good.
"Wait a minute. What time is it?"
"It's nearly five in the morning."
"But how..., why...?"
"We let you stay. We paged Dr. Cooper and she agreed. When you left the first time, Mr. Tanner's blood pressure and heart rate soared into panic levels. As soon as you returned they lowered dramatically. You're good for him. And we believe in doing what's good for our patients."
"Thank you. I.... Thank you."
"Now go. You'll need to get some rest yourself before long. We'll bring you some coffee and a sandwich, too. I know you haven't eaten since Vin was brought in."
God. Almost fifteen hours ago. A lifetime.
When Chris walked into the ICU waiting area, only the big profiler was there. Josiah stood immediately.
"Ezra went home around twelve-thirty. Buck and JD convinced each other to leave after the one o'clock visiting hours. Nathan went home with Raine when she got off her shift at midnight. We set up a schedule. The others will be back in the morning. Well, in a couple hours."
"That's fine. Thanks, Josiah. You don't have to stay, though. Go home and get some sleep."
"Are you?"
He chuckled at the look on Larabee's face.
"No, I didn't think so."
Buck came in at seven, noting Chris's haggard appearance. He shoved a bag at him holding a whole wheat blueberry muffin, and offered a cup of hot, steaming fresh coffee.
"Thanks, Buck."
"Hey, Junior. How're ya doing? Come on, Son. Time to open them pretty blue eyes for us. The nurses all want to see those baby blue eyes. And ya gotta wake up soon, Junior. Chris needs ya. He needs to get some rest, and he ain't gonna leave here until ya wake up. Ya gotta give the nurses and doctors a break. Them green eyes of his are in full glare mode, and the longer you don't wake up the more high-powered the glare."
Chris managed a small grin. He needed Buck, needed the big man's presence to offer support when he was running on empty. He stood and moved to the other side of the bed.
"He's right, pard," Chris added his voice to Buck's. "I do need you. But you rest as long as you need to to get yourself healed. We'll be right here when you wake up. But I sure as hell would love it to be soon, Tanner."
"Hell, you know ol' Chris is known for a lot of things, Junior, but patience just ain't one of 'em."
"Shut up, Buck."
Suddenly the limp hand that Chris was holding twitched, and Vin stirred and moaned softly.
"Vin! Cowboy!" Chris called softly. He cupped Vin's face with his hands, gently cradling it between long fingers.
"Open your eyes for me, Tanner. Come on, you can do it. Time to wake up."
The shaggy head twisted slightly, and Vin breathed a soft moan. Blue slits appeared as he turned toward the blond. They were hazy and unfocused, but they were open.
"That's it, Tanner. That's great, Cowboy. Time to come back to me now."
Vin started to speak, and Chris saw the moment of terror when he realized he had the tube down his throat. Chris saw the panic flare and the fear take over in his eyes.
"Hey, easy," Chris reassured him, reaching for the thin wrist to keep Vin from trying to tear out the tubes. "Shh..., Vin. It's okay. I got you. You're in the hospital. This is helping you breathe. You got shot a couple times on top of having pneumonia. And you know we're going to have a little talk about that later. But you just rest and let the oxygen help you breathe and you'll be just fine."
Chris kept up his soothing litany, and gradually the hazy blue eyes became more focused. The panic lessened when Vin was able to concentrate on the face of his lover, but there was still fear in the huge blue eyes.
Dr. Cooper came in just then with Grace and another nurses. Buck and Chris stood smiling happily at each other to know that Vin was finally awake. She told them they'd have to step into the waiting area while she checked Vin's incisions and other injuries, and her staff provided the necessary patient care. When they were able to get back in, Vin was sound asleep, but Grace assured them that he was truly sleeping peacefully.
Vin gradually became more aware of his surroundings as he slowly began the long recovery process. As much morphine and other drugs as were given to Vin, he was still in considerable pain. Chris could only sit and watch helplessly as Vin struggled though coughing fits that left him white and trembling and exhausted. Tears would leak from eyes squeezed tightly shut, his body tense while long shudders coursed through the slender frame. Chris began to think that Vin was going to crack another rib from the harsh, wracking coughs that threatened to tear his body apart.
Chris had been hopeful that Vin could be moved out of intensive care shortly after he'd woken up, but Vin's condition had remained critical. The gunshot wounds and subsequent surgery had decimated the young man's already fragile health. Several times Vin spiked dangerously high fevers, and it was during those times that the doctors kicked Chris out of his room so they and the nurses could work to lower his temperature. The pneumonia took greater hold in Vin's lungs, leaving him breathless and wheezing, unable to breathe on his own. Bouts of coughing spells left Vin dizzy and shaking, tears of pain leaking from his eyes. They had to hold him while the coughing shook his slight frame. Vin was left trembling, in terrible pain, with his body and long hair drenched with sweat.
The coughing didn't help his other injuries, and neither did the pneumonia allow him to heal. Every time Dr. Cooper tried a new antibiotic, Vin had a reaction to it. It seemed no matter what antibiotic they tried, Vin would soon be on his side throwing up. His un-bandaged arm would clutch his middle where the stitches from the incision pulled in agony. Chris would try to hold the wraithlike body while Vin suffered through seemingly never-ending bouts of dry heaves. Vin would moan and whimper, and even then the sounds of his pain were faint and whispery. At these times Chris was nearly beside himself, distraught to see his lover in so much agony.
Chris started to think that he'd go insane from the worry and the helpless torment he felt watching his lover in so much pain. He was powerless to help, and could only stand by and hold Vin as best he could while the younger man suffered in mind-numbing agony. He began to think that if Vin didn't cough up a lung from the pneumonia, he was going to tear his stomach out of his body from the force of gagging and retching until he couldn't breathe. The episodes of coughing and dry heaves left Vin wrung out and nearly passed out from the exertion.
Chris was ready to go ballistic, and there were a couple times that Buck and Josiah had to physically restrain him when Dr. Cooper would come by. He knew in his mind that she wasn't responsible for his lover's suffering and never-ending misery, yet he couldn't help wanting to blame her and demand that she make the pain stop. He couldn't look into Tanner's tortured blue eyes, and see the white face drawn with pain and fear. It was almost a blessing when Vin would finally pass out, and Chris could only hope that his body could really rest and be free from the constant pain he endured while he was awake.
The days dragged on, and Chris was seeing Vin waste away before his eyes. The slender body had never had a spare ounce of fat, and now Vin was frail and lean to the point of gauntness. Dark black circles smudged under the pain-hazed blue eyes, and Vin's cheeks were sunken into deep hollows under the strong cheekbones. The thin wrists and hands were even more skeletal until Vin's long fingers were nothing but bones.
Team Seven could do nothing to drag Chris away. Orin Travis had been by to see Vin a few times, but Chris could tell that it was really upsetting to the young Texan to have the director see him like that, and Chris managed to tactfully find a way to discourage further visits.
If the truth were known, Travis had been horrified at the sight of Tanner. He'd been prepared for him to be in bad shape, but the reality was so much worse than he'd ever imagined that he was deeply shaken. He immediately went back to his office and arranged for a lengthy leave of absence for Chris Larabee. If the SAC needed to be anywhere right now, it was with young Tanner. Besides, he had been soundly reassured by Josiah and Buck that there were no pressing issues with any cases they were currently working. The rest of the team kept working, but nothing threatened to break open a case in the near future.
Ezra's face kept it's normal inscrutable expression as he listening to Travis explain that Josiah would be temporarily in charge for the duration of Chris's leave, and that it was understood that Larabee would be called back at a moment's notice should he be needed. Standish allowed himself a secret smile after the distinguished man boarded the elevator to return to his own office. While perhaps there was a chance, albeit slight, that a snitch might - just might - have been persuaded to speak up, well.... Let's just say that if anyone deserved a slight delay in the quest for justice, it was Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner. There were ways to garner the information when the time was right, of that Standish could be sure.
Gradually, and almost without a perceptible difference, Vin started getting slightly better. The coughing fits were still painfully agonizing, but at least Dr. Cooper had seemed to find a mix of antibiotics to control the pneumonia and threat of infection from the surgical incision sites that didn't turn Vin's stomach inside out. The oxygen tube was occasionally removed and replaced with a nasal canula, and the doctor told Vin that if he could gain five pounds back of the several he'd lost, she would allow him to be moved into a real room and out of intensive care.
Vin couldn't eat, but at least he wasn't throwing up non-stop. The nutrients and fluids which had been delivered intravenously at least managed to stay in him, and that alone brought back enough weight that Vin wasn't in danger of starving to death. It was hard on all of them to see Vin so frail and physically emaciated. His features were sunken and his skin was dry and paper thin and grayish looking. No one was affected more than Chris, however. There was a part of him that felt he needed to stay at the hospital every minute, because if he left he'd go to a bar and drink until there was no more alcohol left to drink. Anything to keep from screaming at the unfairness of the torment and torture his young lover was going through.
A few days later, though, Vin had improved enough to the point where Dr. Cooper felt he could be moved out of intensive care and into a private room on another floor. The days had passed in mind-numbing sameness for Chris, who refused to leave Vin's side longer than a few hastily eaten meals and quick showers in the residents' locker room. They'd set up a cot for him there, and some of the nurses had started joking that they were going to have a name plate made and assign him his own locker.
Chris was starting to look bad, and Team Seven knew that Larabee would find himself admitted to the hospital with exhaustion if they didn't do something. As soon as Vin was settled into his new room and the nurses finished hooking up all the machines to their satisfaction, Team Seven was allowed in to see him. This was the first time they'd all been able to be with Vin together at the same time. They quietly spoke to him, congratulating him on being sprung from ICU. He tried to smile at them, but it was clear he couldn't keep up the struggle to keep his eyes open. It wasn't more than five minutes later that he was sound asleep.
Chris brushed the soft curls off Vin's forehead, cupping his hand gently against the pale cheek. Someone behind him cleared his throat and Chris turned to face them. Nathan stepped up toward him, and Chris momentarily froze to think that Nathan was going to say something disapproving about him touching Vin with such tenderness.
Instead he looked into compassion filled dark eyes.
"You need to go rest, Chris. We've talked about it. You know you're about ready to fall over from exhaustion. It's time for you to go shower, eat a decent meal, and get some real sleep in a real bed. One of us will be here with Vin all the time, so you don't need to worry that he'll be alone. The danger has passed or he wouldn't be here. Besides, the move has him all wore out, and he won't wake up for several hours."
Chris refused to go all the way to the ranch, but he finally agreed to go to Josiah's small house. There was a comfortable guest room there, and he wouldn't feel as though he were putting Buck and JD out of their beds. Besides, try as he might, JD could not be quiet to save his life. Although if he were honest with himself, Chris probably would have slept through a tornado as exhausted as he felt right then. Not that he'd ever let Buck in on his secret, but Josiah's house was only about five miles further from the hospital than Buck and JD's apartment. It wasn't enough to really make a difference, although with the traffic lights and congestion, Chris knew they could actually get to the hospital faster from Josiah's. He wondered whether Buck would ever figure it out that while his place was closer based on distance, Josiah's was closer based on travel time.
The big profiler looked over at his team leader in the seat beside him. He grinned, huge teeth flashing in satisfaction. Chris had been asleep before they'd gone five blocks from the hospital - was nearly asleep while they were still in the parking lot.
"We're here, boss," Josiah said quietly when he pulled his old Suburban up beside his small bungalow.
Chris stirred, blinked and stretched. He followed Josiah into the small but comfortable house, which was attractively styled in a distinctively masculine décor. The rooms were tastefully decorated with artifacts from the different countries and cultures the man loved to visit in order to satisfy his curiosity and intellect. It was an eclectic mix, yet it worked and blended well.
Josiah pointed Chris in the direction of the shower off the guest room. Buck had earlier gone out to Larabee's ranch and rounded up a couple changes of clothing and his toiletry case. Clean fluffy towels were brought out of the linen closet, and Josiah said he'd meet him in the kitchen when he was finished.
Chris was afraid he would fall asleep in the shower. As much as he'd protested leaving Vin, he had to admit that Buck and the others were right - he was getting pretty disgusting. It felt good to shave and wash his hair with real shampoo and not the harsh, chemical shampoo he'd been provided at the hospital.
"God, please let Vin be okay," he whispered into the spray as it beat down against the back of his neck and his tense shoulders. He pictured Vin as he'd left him, small and so fragile looking under the hospital blankets. Larabee had to close his eyes tightly and fight off the fear that something had happened while he wasn't there. He knew he was being unreasonable, but with all that had happened between the illness, fevers, reactions to medications, not to mention being shot and going through surgery, he couldn't help feeling anxious. All of his lover's defenses had been stripped away by the trauma to his body. Vin just looked so vulnerable and so achingly young.
Chris turned off the water when it started to cool down. He dressed in soft sweatpants and a lightweight sweatshirt. Josiah had a light meal prepared of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. He'd made hot herbal tea instead of coffee, knowing Chris didn't need the caffeine right now. Heaven knew he'd been living on caffeine, adrenaline, and sheer willpower the last several days.
"Go to bed, Chris," Josiah said gently when he saw that Chris could hardly keep his eyes open. "I'll wake you if there's any news of Brother Tanner. Ezra and Buck are there with our young friend. In fact, I'll call the hospital now if it will make you feel better."
Chris hated to admit that Josiah was right and that he did need sleep. The big profiler could see his reluctance to let go and sleep, so he decided to use his best weapon.
"Vin needs you to be rested when you go back to the hospital. You know if he sees you looking exhausted and worn out, he's going to worry about you. And that boy will start fretting about you and how you're doing. He's not going to be able to relax and rest to get well if he's all stressed and anxious that you're okay."
Chris's eyes narrowed.
"Anyone ever told you you don't fight fair?"
Josiah laughed heartily, and Chris had to laugh quietly with him. It felt strange to relax enough to laugh. It felt good.
"Come on, Brother. I'll show you where the extra blankets are."
Chris couldn't believe that he slept nearly nineteen hours straight. He woke up slightly disoriented for a few moments until he remembered where he was. Josiah glanced up from his book when Chris came into the living room. He smiled and told Chris that he'd just gotten off the phone with Buck thirty minutes ago, and Chris nodded his appreciation for their concern. Buck had reported that Vin had spent a fairly easy night, although they had taken him once for x-rays of his lungs, and then to respiratory therapy twice for breathing treatments.
Josiah made a fresh pot of coffee and quickly scrambled some eggs while he put bread in to toast. He watched as Chris gulped the hot coffee impatiently, obviously anxious to get back to Vin.
"I'll drive. Get in the car."
"Thanks, Josiah. I'm sorry I'm a rude guest. I'm grateful to you, truly grateful for everything you've done."
"My pleasure, Chris. Anything we can do for you or our young wounded brother we are more than happy to. That goes for all of us."
When Chris walked into the hospital room, he was thrilled to see Vin's eyes looking brighter and more clear than they had in a long, long time.
Buck and Ezra said hello, and then decided they would go on to the office and meet with Josiah there. Finally Chris and Vin were alone.
"Hey, Cowboy," the whisper was rough and scratchy, but it was the finest sound Chris had ever heard.
"You're looking good, Tanner," Chris grinned, taking in the faint wash of color on the still too-pale cheeks, the slightly easier breathing. He looked at the breakfast tray and saw untouched juice and broth. Chris folded his arms and looked at Vin, his eyebrow raised.
One bony shoulder shrugged and Vin looked a little less happy. It was hard for him to talk under the oxygen mask, but he could whisper a few words. He shook his head.
"Still cain't seem ta keep nothin' down. The doc's threatenin' ta put me on a feedin' tube. Don't let that happen, Chris.... Please?"
The blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, as Vin looked truly distraught.
Chris lowered the side of the bed and sat close to Vin's side. He tried not to show his dismay at the realization that Vin's body was so slight it hardly made a small mound under the light blankets. He cupped a hand gently on Vin's face, holding him and caressing the soft, freshly shaven face. God, but Vin looked all of twelve years old, and it broke his heart. With his other hand Chris lightly grasped the long, slender fingers and brought them to his lips for a tender kiss.
"Hey, it's okay. Shh...., it's okay, Vin. I've got ya. We'll see what we can do to get your stomach settled, all right? I'll talk to the doctor. We'll do whatever it takes to keep you from having a feeding tube, okay?"
"P..., promise?"
"I promise. I'll talk to Dr. Cooper the next chance I get."
"Well, then, this is your lucky day," a firm voice spoke from the doorway. Chris carefully eased away from Vin, but refused to jump as if guilty of anything. A sharp glance at her face revealed that she at least suspected the true nature of their relationship, but a second look showed that she didn't disapprove. She had a slight, nearly hidden smile on her face as she turned to her patient.
Chris moved to the corner of the room, and bit his lips as he watched Vin flinch and wince under the probing of his wounds. He gritted his teeth and insisted he was fine, and Chris was ready to take a switch to that tantalizing behind if circumstances had been different. Thankfully, nothing much got past Dr. Cooper.
Once the nurses had made the necessary notations in Vin's chart and had gone to bring fresh sheets, she turned to Chris.
"Now, Mr. Larabee. Just what did you want to discuss with me."
"I know Vin's not gaining weight like you'd like him to," Chris told her, sending a warning glance at the sapphire blue eyes glaring at him. Vin hated anyone talking about him, but hated even worse when people talked about him when he was right there. The fact of the matter was, however, that Chris was there talking for him because with the oxygen mask on he couldn't talk for himself. He silently warned Vin not to protest or she'd see how bad off he was, and he suddenly relaxed when he realized the truth of Larabee's message of caution.
Something in her manner caused Chris to feel like she knew exactly what had happened between the two men, and it fascinated her as it puzzled the rest of their teammates.
"As I was saying, Vin's always been a little on the thin side," Chris continued. He couldn't resist teasing Tanner a little, although he knew Vin would make him pay later when he got his strength back. Come to think of it, he was counting on it.
"In fact, Buck would even call him scrawny," Chris struggled not to laugh, and refused to look toward the blue eyes which he knew were shooting daggers at him. "Nathan will verify that he gets every bug and every germ in a fifty mile radius of Denver."
Chris knew the teasing had gone on long enough and he turned serious. "But please, Doctor. If there's any way to keep him from having to have a feeding tube, we'd both be really grateful."
Cooper looked thoughtful, and then she turned from the tall, strikingly handsome blond to her younger patient. Whatever arrangement these two had, whether just good friends or something more, she was glad that the young man in the bed had someone like this watching out for him. It was clear that this Chris Larabee was trying to be polite and rein in his emotions, but she could tell he was used to having his orders obeyed and would be a force to be reckoned with. Who knew what kind of force that would be if anyone threatened the young man so sick and injured lying beside them.
She tried not to have favorites among her patients, but Vin's sincere and achingly grateful appreciation for even the smallest kindness had endeared him to not only herself but all her nurses. The soft Texas drawl, long dark lashes curving shyly over high cheekbones, the straight perfect nose, bright white teeth, and long, wavy, rich dark curls didn't hurt, either. Neither did the gorgeous body of muscles she knew was under the tanned skin. She could only imagine his attractiveness once he got his health back.
But it was those huge blue eyes that did her in. They were so pleading, so... afraid. She hated to think what kind of life had put that look into those ancient, sadness-tinged young eyes.
"Well, we do seem to have found one thing that Mr. Tanner can tolerate," she said, turning briskly back toward her patient.
Vin blushed adorably, and Chris quirked an eyebrow.
"Apparently Vin likes popsicles. Green ones. They seem to be the one thing his stomach can handle."
"Green popsicles, huh?" Chris smirked, and Vin flushed even pinker.
"Yes. I discovered that fact when I received a call from my colleague in the pediatric ward. It seems as though my nurses had been raiding their freezer - taking only green popsicles. So now the freezer in my nurses break room is crammed full of popsicle boxes. With all the green ones missing."
Chris had to laugh out loud, and Tanner was now glaring fiercely at him. Oh, he was going to pay big time.
"Tell you what," Dr. Cooper said, smiling down kindly into Vin's sad eyes. "Let's keep up with the 'popsicle diet' another day. Then maybe we'll see if your stomach will tolerate some other things, maybe clear broth. If we can keep that down, we'll work our way up to thin oatmeal. All right?"
Vin nodded once, but still looked uncertain. They both knew that he was still anxious about the feeding tube, but with the oxygen he couldn't really ask. She saw the worry and the fear in his wide, expressive eyes.
Then the doctor sat on the side of his bed so she could get closer to Tanner and make sure he was looking into her eyes.
"One thing that's going to help your stomach is we're going to start weaning you down from the high dose of antibiotics. You'll still need to be on them, but when it's not so strong that should help keep you from throwing up. And you can let my stitches heal," she added, pretending to scold.
When he looked truly stricken, she smiled reassuringly.
"I think in a couple more days you might be able to handle yogurt, and if you can keep that down, we'll try protein shakes. Those are full of calories and nutrients, and might not be too hard on your system. But I'll do everything I can to keep you from having the feeding tube, all right?"
Vin nodded his head vigorously, until he winced from the pull on his stitches.
"All right. We've got a deal."
They turned toward the bed at the muffled sound from under the mask.
Chris's lips quirked up in a grin. He turned toward the doctor.
"I think he was just asking that the protein shakes be chocolate."
Cooper chuckled then, and Vin's glare turned into an adorable pout. She smiled at him fondly, and came over to the bed. Patting his knee she apologized.
"I'm not laughing at you. I'm just so incredibly thankful to see you well enough to ask for chocolate. But I'm also chuckling at the thought that now my nurses' freezer will not only be full of leftover non-green popsicles, but their refrigerator will be full of chocolate protein shakes. You just keep getting better, and we'll feed you whatever you can eat. We're just all thrilled to see you making such good progress."
Vin's eyes grew wide and he stilled, awed at the sincerity he heard behind the words, and incredibly touched that she would say such a thing. Her eyes softened and she smiled warmly, then patted his leg before standing to leave.
"You take care of yourself, Vin. You need to sleep now, though, and that's doctor's orders. Mr. Larabee will be here, I'm sure. He'll watch over you."
"Yes, ma'am," Vin whispered, lowering his eyes and blushing furiously.
Finally the two were alone together, and Chris insisted that Vin close his eyes. The younger man fought sleep as long as he could, which was admittedly about five minutes. Ezra had told Josiah during a couple phone calls to the house while Chris was sleeping that Vin had slept, but didn't seem to sleep quite as well or as deeply as when Mr. Larabee was there. The big man wasn't sure the two men had discussed it between themselves, but curiously Buck reported the same thing. He hadn't told Chris about what the two agents had said, knowing that Chris would never leave otherwise. But now that Chris was here, Vin slid into a deep, restful, healing sleep. Chris continued to hold his hand against the mattress with one hand, and flipped through the channels with the remote with the other as he settled into the relatively comfortable chair pulled close.
Chris had arrived shortly after noon, and Vin slept all afternoon. That night after work the others stopped by to visit, but saw that their presence was tiring for Vin and they didn't stay long. The next several days saw Vin improving, and while he felt it was maddeningly slow, his doctor was more than pleased. He'd been able to put on weight without the feeding tube, for which Vin and Chris were thrilled. Vin would have hated it and fought it, and Chris knew that Vin would have begged him to keep them from putting it in. It would have torn him apart to have seen Vin's eyes, and he was exceedingly grateful to Cooper and her nurses, and their never-ending supply of green popsicles and chocolate protein shakes.
Now Vin was actually able to eat 'real' - albeit bland - food. He was able to go for longer periods without the oxygen mask, although for most of the time still had to have the hated nasal canula. Tanner was walking the halls with a walker as a nurse walked beside him holding the wheeled pole with his medication drips. He was completely exhausted after even the shortest trip. He'd started physical therapy on his leg, which was hard also on his other slowly healing injuries..
Even though Vin would be completely wiped out and sleep for hours afterwards, he was starting to ask about getting out of the hospital. Chris and Vin had been arguing about it when the team had stopped by after work, with Vin trying to get JD and Buck and Ezra on his side. Josiah was trying to mediate, while Nathan was adamant that Vin would have to stay for several more days. Unfortunately for Vin's case, the young Texan had fallen asleep mid-argument, and the others had said their good-byes to Chris and left shortly afterwards.
Chris opened his eyes and frowned, disoriented at the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He felt the stiffness and tightness in his muscles. He sat up, feeling old and creaky, and looked up into smiling but concerned blue eyes. Vin. He was in the hospital with Vin, and must have fallen asleep in the chair beside Vin's bed. He was going to be stiff today.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself," Chris smiled, then grimaced as he twisted his torso to loosen the tightness in his muscles.
"Ya shoulda gone home, Cowboy. Ya didn't have ta stay here with me."
"I want to be here, Tanner."
One slender shoulder shrugged.
"I know. Ya jist need ta take care of yerself, too. Yer always worrying about me, but I don't want ya hurtin' or gettin' sick 'cause ya ain't eatin' right 'r sleepin' right."
"I'm fine, Vin. I want to be here. Just fell asleep, but I can work the kinks out. Maybe I'll take a stroll down to the cafeteria and bring us back some hot coffee."
"Now that would be a change," the younger man smiled. "Seems like everything they bring in here is the same temperature. Cold things is room temperature and hot things is room temperature. Ain't nothin' worse than lukewarm coffee."
"Well, maybe a couple things are worse."
"Smart ass."
Chris stood up, stretching and twisting, then stopped when he saw Vin's mouth tighten with worry.
"It's okay, Vin. Besides, you know I'm always stiff in the morning."
Vin's eyes widened and sparkled with mischief.
"Oh, I know that, Cowboy. I like wakin' up ta that stiffness. So, ya need a little help this mornin' gettin' the stiffness out?"
"Shit, Tanner!" Chris yelped and shot a hasty glance toward the door. "Do you want the staff to hear you?"
"Well, hell, Lar'bee. You was the one brought it up. So to speak."
"Vin!"
"Shit, Chris. What d' ya expect? First ya want ta talk about wakin' up stiff. Then ya talk about bringin' it up. Yer gettin' me all hot an' bothered here. I love it when ya get all sexy on me, ya know. Yer green eyes git all soft an' hazy...."
Chris looked frantically at the open door to Vin's room. Any nurse or doctor or orderly could walk in at any moment. He'd love to bend down and kiss that smart mouth, wiping the smirk off his lover's face and turning those eyes from sparkling with wicked mischief until they softened and darkened with love. But now was not the time or the place, unfortunately.
"You behave yourself," he scolded. "You know damn well that wasn't what I meant."
Vin pouted.
"I kinda like it when ya talk dirty."
Chris had to grin.
"I like it, too. And if we were home, I'd show you 'stiff' and something tells me we'd both be bringing it up."
Vin sighed heavily.
"I need out of here, Chris. I need the ranch. I need you in the mornings."
"I know. Soon."
Chris twisted and stretched one more time, feeling a satisfying pop in his spine.
Vin frowned again.
"What's wrong, baby? I'm fine."
"Don't wantcha worryin' about me," Vin said, blue eyes wide and serious.
"I can't help it. I love you too much not to worry when you're sick or hurt."
Vin grew even more still, and Chris swore he stopped breathing.
"Ya do love me, don'tcha?"
"I sure do, Cowboy."
"Love you, too. But I still don't like it when ya worry," Vin added. He held out a hand and Chris crossed the room to sit on the side of Tanner's bed. He held the thin hand in his, feeling the frailness of the bones under the papery dry skin. With his other hand he cupped Tanner's thin cheek. Vin reached up with his other hand and brushed through Chris's hair with his fingers. He looked into the dark green eyes and tried to smile.
"Ya shouldn't worry. Don't wantcha gettin' lines on yer purty face."
Chris chuckled.
"You give me worry lines even when you are healthy, Tanner."
"Yer too purty ta be gettin' worry lines, though."
"You're giving me gray hair."
Vin smiled, his eyes sparkling with wicked mischief.
"That's 'cause ya ain't gettin' enough sleep. You old men need yer sleep, ya know."
"I'll 'old man' you," Chris leered down, staring at that luscious mouth he longed to ravish. "You get out of here and I'll wear out your hide."
"Mmmm... I like th' sound of that."
"Thought you might," he grinned, then turned serious. "So...., will you still love me when I'm old and gray?"
"Yer already old. 'Sides, I ain't in love with yer hair."
"Really? I'm in love with yours."
Vin pouted.
"That all yer in love with?"
"Well, maybe I like a few other parts, too."
"Good. Ya damn well better say that, Cowboy. But I think I'll like you with gray hair. Bet it'll turn all silvery. Make ya even more distinguished lookin'."
Chris ran his fingers through Vin's long curls, feeling their silky softness. Even though it had worn his young lover out so completely that he'd slept for fifteen solid hours afterwards, Vin had managed to take a shower the day before. Even the harsh hospital-issued shampoo couldn't keep Vin's hair from it's normal silkiness.
"Yer thinkin' awful hard there, Cowboy."
Chris smiled reassuringly into sky blue eyes.
"Just trying to picture you with gray hair."
"Well, when it does turn gray, I'm cuttin' it. I ain't gonna be one a' them old guys with a scraggly long gray ponytail."
Chris chuckled at the sound of Vin all indignant at the idea.
"It's a deal," he nodded. "Besides, then your hair won't ever hide your face when we're making love."
Vin's body stilled and his eyes widened, shimmering with sudden tears.
"Ya..., ya mean that, don'tcha, Cowboy," he whispered, his soft voice raspy and filled with wonder. "Yer gonna love me ferever, even when I'm old and gray?"
"Even when you're old and gray, Tanner. You're it for me. It's forever and always."
"Damn," he whispered, barely above a breath of sound.
Chris bent down and placed a gentle kiss on his lover's beautiful, full lips, regretting the faint taste of medicine. He needed to get Vin out of here and home to the ranch so he could truly get better, and so Chris could show him just how much he absolutely meant what he promised.
"How are we feeling this morning?" a cheerful voice sounded behind them from the doorway.
Chris turned toward the voice, then leisurely stood and moved away from the bed, giving Tanner's thin fingers a gentle squeeze. The nurses had to have at least suspected the true nature of their relationship, and yet no one had given them a hard time. Chris liked the sense of freedom it gave them, and while they didn't flaunt their status as lovers, they also didn't have to hide the fact that they felt affection for each other. Chris sighed ruefully. If only in the rest of their lives they could be so open.