ATF Universe
Continued...
JD sat on the floor of the parking garage, leaning up against the wall. He still couldn't believe it - Vin and Chris! Images of the two men kissing and doing other things came to his mind and he was instantly disgusted. How could they? And how could they have lied to him? And not just Vin and Chris - all of them lied - especially Buck.The young agent hugged his arms around his knees. How many hours, months, years had he spent with these men... off the job, at the local saloon or on fishing trips... on the job, side by side in gunfights, or cooped up in small places during surveillance operations...
How could he trust them again? How could he work with them, knowing what they do with each other? As if his thoughts had a life of their own, Chris Larabee suddenly appeared by his side, sitting in like fashion with his knees drawn up, back against the wall.
"Stay, JD." Chris laid a hand on the young man's arm when he made a move to rise. "Please."
JD jerked his arm away. "Don't touch me."
Chris tried not to flinch at the blatant revulsion on the young agent's face.
"Got nothing to say to you right now, Chris," JD said. He hugged his arms to his chest and turned his face away from his boss.
"I guess I can understand that. But I wish you'd give me a chance to explain -"
"What the hell did you think you were doin', Chris?!" JD burst out, his claim of speechlessness forgotten. "For godssake, when did you suddenly figure out you were gay?! And didn't you think it was something the rest of us ought to know?"
"Why?" Chris seemed genuinely perplexed.
JD stared nonplussed at the older man. "Why? Because - well, it changes things."
"What things?"
"Everything!"
"No it doesn't JD. Everything's the same as far as we're concerned. As far as all the team's concerned if you all don't make such a big issue out of this. I know it's a shock. I know it makes you uncomfortable. But Vin and I are the same two men you've known and trusted and been friends with for years. None of that is any different."
JD stared hard at the man he had thought he knew. Shaking his head, he made a dismissive face and turned away.
"How can I make this better?"
"You can't, Chris. You just can't."
At length, the lawman asked, "Why does it bother you so much?"
"Because . . . what you two do together. I mean, it's . . . I can't think about it." His face wore an open expression of repugnance.
"Then don't!" Larabee's voice took on an edge, betraying his tenuous grasp on patience. "Trust me, JD, I don't spend any time pondering about what you and Casey do together. None of my business. And it doesn't have a thing to do with how you do your job, or whether or not I trust you, which I do. Implicitly. What does it matter what Vin or I do privately?
JD shrugged, unable to put up an adequate fight against Chris's reasoning.
"I'm not gonna apologize to you for what I do with my personal life. It just pure and simple has nothing to do with you and it shouldn't have anything to do with our friendship. But I am sorry I lied to you, JD. I truly am."
"Hmmph."
"It's hard to trust when you've been deceived."
"Yeah, well, you can be sure I ain't never gonna trust you or believe you ever again."
"Why, JD? Because I didn't come to you in the beginning and say, 'Hey, JD, what would you think if I told you I think I'm fallin' for your friend Vin?'"?
"Stop it, Chris. That's sick."
A long moment of silence fell between the estranged friends. At length, JD snuck a look at the blonde man beside him. He looked so pained that the young agent had a moment's fear that he might cry.
"See, JD," Chris said softly. "That's just the kind of reaction we thought we'd get if we didn't keep it a secret. So we lied."
The young agent dropped his knees and stared hard at his hands in his lap. He had thought the idea of Chris and Vin being sex partners was what bothered him most, but now he was beginning to think it was the huge betrayal that was worse.
Larabee's soft voice intruded on his thoughts. "Isn't that what's eatin' atcha? That me and Vin did something none of the rest of you knew about and tried to make sure we kept it secret?"
Goddamnit, JD thought. Was he so transparent or was Chris some kind of mind reader?
"Isn't it about being left out of the loop?" Chris continued. "Well, none of the others knew, either, 'til . . . 'til Paulson."
"Bullshit." JD cut a look of distrust in Chris's direction.
"I swear. We thought we were being discreet and that nobody knew." The senior agent shook his head slowly, a forlorn expression sweeping across his face. "Obviously, we were wrong."
"Boy, I'll say," JD mumbled. He was tired of this discussion; it was only making him more confused and moodier. He stood.
Chris got to his feet like a tired old man, JD thought. It gave him a start to suddenly realize that Chris was fallible and hurting. His conscience began a slow gnaw. The wide green eyes of his one-time trusted friend searched his face for some sign of acquiescence and JD felt fleetingly that maybe he was overreacting.
When Chris held out his hand, JD sighed deeply and held out a tentative hand in return.
"We'll work through it, JD. I really need you to stick with us to get McMurtry."
Although JD didn't consent, he didn't decline either and the ATF team leader clasped a grateful hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Jesus God, Larabee. Isn't he a little young, even by your standards?"
The agents turned as one toward the source of this derision. Tom Akers, senior Team Four agent, stood snickering at the pair. The flush of embarrassment that engulfed JD's cheeks also made him sick to his stomach and, with a moan of misery, he lurched toward the doors leading from the garage back into the office building. Whatever Larabee had to say to Tom Akers, JD didn't want to know.
+ + + + + + +
His left hand massaging his aching temples, Chris Larabee used his right to thrust open the door to his team's office.
Buck, Josiah, Nathan and Ezra had their heads together over Buck's desk.
"What is it?" Chris asked, approaching the group.
Josiah took the role of spokesman. "Paulson. He made bail."
Four worried faces assessed their leader. That man gritted his teeth and made a quick survey of the room.
"Where's Vin? He know?"
"Finally decided to talk to IA," Buck said with wonderment.
"Shit." Chris Larabee's headache just worsened.
+ + + + + + +
When Chris reached the Office of Internal Affairs, he brusquely pushed past the secretary and walked into the interrogation room.
"Get out, Larabee," Steve Dowd ordered, coming out of his chair.
"I've got every right to be here. Agent Tanner is under my supervision," Chris countered, not even looking at the man, but settling his gaze upon Vin.
"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Dowd interrupted, not bothering to hide the laughter in his voice.
Chris caught the way Vin winced at the IA man's words, saw the momentary closing of his eyes, the clench of his jaw. Choosing to ignore the gibe, Chris planted his hands on the table before him and glared at the Internal Affairs agent before continuing. "And since he is under my supervision, you should have notified me of any plans to interview him, and also given him ample time to arrange for union representation. I received no such notification and there is no union representative in this room. Furthermore, Agent Tanner is on sick leave. He can barely stay upright. Any answers he may give to your line of questioning could be considered given under duress, and therefore thrown out of any investigation you've got going."
"Chris," Vin began with a sigh. "I'm fine. I just want to get some of this bullshit outta the way, so we can get on with the McMurtry case."
"And his union representative is now here," Ezra announced as he entered the room, putting his briefcase on the table and taking a seat next to Vin.
Chris looked at Ezra quickly and then at Vin again, seeing the determination in his eyes to get the procedure over and done with. He gave in with a slight nod, before saying, "As long as it is duly noted that Investigating Agent Dowd seems to have some preconceived bias against Agent Tanner," turning to glare at Dowd again as he said it.
"Agent Tanner is here to give his statement of facts concerning his recent abduction and subsequent torture. Nothing else," Ezra put in, looking at Vin first, then Chris and Dowd, in turn.
After a moment, when all the men seemed to agree to the interview, Vin began. "I went to the park to meet with Tommy Wilkes, one of my snitches..."
Vin relayed the incident in the most cursory way possible. When Agent Dowd repeatedly interjected questions, Vin's answers became curt and monosyllabic until he quit telling the story and simply waited for the investigator to ask questions. Chris tried to intercede, but Dowd cut him short as well and the small congregation became a hotbed of pent-up hostility.
"So," Dowd resumed, "You were released from the chains by your captors? Why didn't you attempt to escape at that point?"
"He was practically unconscious!" Chris yelled in disbelief.
"I'm warning you, Agent Larabee," Dowd said tightly, "These questions are for Agent Tanner and his representative. Keep your mouth shut." He returned his attention to Vin.
"They threw me over the back of a chair and chained me up again."
"And what was the purpose of that?"
Vin stared at Dowd with blatant hatred, but eventually dropped his eyes to the tabletop and shook his head.
"Tell me what they did with the whip handle."
Vin raised his head suddenly and gripped the arm of his chair tightly, turning his knuckles white. His jaw clenched and a muscle over his eye twitched. "You sonof - "
Chris slapped the table with his palms and leapt from his chair. "Goddammit, Dowd!"
"Sir." Ezra spoke up, cutting a look at Chris and laying a repressing hand on Vin's arm before fixing Dowd with his coolest glare. "You have the full medical report, which outlines the specifics of Agent Tanner's treatment at the hands of his abductors. Agent Larabee has detailed to you what he witnessed . . ."
Vin gasped and looked harshly at his estranged lover.
" . . . and Agent Tanner is in obvious physical and emotional distress. There is no need for him to recount every detail of his horrendous ordeal. He has cooperated fully by disclosing the events as they took place. Can you not conclude without asking him to restate facts that are already established?"
Interrogator and defender sized each other up. At length Dowd unpursed his lips and spoke. "Very well. But if Agent Larabee makes one more sound, he's out of here."
"You won't know he's here," Ezra said assuredly not bothering to look at the subject himself.
With Dowd's prodding and Vin's meager responses, the story unfolded.
". . . And so, Agent Tanner," Dowd said as he made some more notations on the yellow legal pad before him, "Is it safe to conclude that your relationship with Agent Larabee was the motive behind the attack?"
Ezra was about to object to the question when Vin pounded his fist on the table and shouted, "NO! It's NOT 'safe to conclude!' Agent Larabee and I work with each other. We're friends. Nothing more. Never have been more'n that, never will be."
Chris felt his chest constrict at the words. He knew somehow that they'd be coming. Hell, Vin had told him at Nettie's that it was over between them. But his vehement denial of their relationship to the IA agent made it seem so much more final, more permanent. He also knew that it had to be said. For Vin's sake. For his. For the team's.
"So you and Larabee are not in a homosexual relationship?" Dowd asked.
"What the hell did he just tell you?! What did I tell you?!" Chris cut in.
"Gentlemen, if I may," Ezra spoke up. "Please, let us get to the matter at hand. Agent Paulson and his men are the ones that should be under scrutiny, here. They are the ones that inflicted unspeakable horrors on Agent Tanner - "
"Exactly, Agent Standish," Dowd interrupted. "And I aim to find out why," he added, looking at Vin and Chris. "Now, Agent Tanner," he continued. "Do you think you deserved what you got?"
+ + + + + + +
"Do you fuckin' believe that asshole?" Vin muttered as they walked back toward their offices. "Askin' me if I felt I deserved to get beaten up. How the hell can - ,"
"Let it go, Vin," Chris replied, extending a hand toward Vin's healthy shoulder, but pulling it back when he noticed two coworkers approaching. "Dowd's an asshole, just like you said. But when it came to the investigation, Ezra took good care of it, kept all the questions on track, even when Dowd brought Jenkins's statements into it."
"I did my best, anyway," Ezra said. Even he knew that the rumors about Chris and Vin's relationship could not be erased by any statements, denials or union representation. "All we can do is keep up a positive appearance," he gave Chris a meaningful look, having noticed the subtle gesture he stifled as the other ATF employees passed them, "and continue to do our jobs well, ignoring any deliberate attempts to sully your reputations."
"You did fine, Ez," Vin sighed, giving the southerner a tired smile. "Thanks."
"Just doing my duty as your local union representative, Mr. Tanner," he returned. "And, as your friend," he added gently.
Chris was about to convey his thanks to Ezra as well, when he saw Vin start to sway. He reached out quickly and grabbed the younger man around his waist while Ezra grabbed Vin's left arm. "Whoa there, Vin, you okay?" he asked with concern.
"Just tired," he replied quickly, shrugging off the helping hands. "Haven't had my afternoon nap yet, you know," he added sarcastically. He was tired. Tired of feeling weak. Hated that his friends had to prevent him from falling on his face. Tired of the whole fucking mess he was in.
"Shit, shoulda known," Chris muttered, shaking his head. "I'll drive you back to Nettie's," he offered, reaching for his keys. "You should be in bed."
"I'm fine now," Vin replied quickly. "Besides, Nettie's taking me," he looked at his watch, "in about an hour. Until then I can get you guys my files on McMurtry, get this thing goin'."
"You sure?" the blonde asked, taking a careful look at his young friend, former lover, wanting nothing more than to comfort him.
"I'm fine, Chris," Vin replied again, knowing what Chris had been thinking, wanting to be able to lie in Chris's bed again. He began his slow ambling walk down the hallway, wanting to get to the safety of the group in the team's office. Get to his files. Get Chris off his mind.
+ + + + + + +
When they arrived at the office, Chris was happy to see JD at his desk, poring over some files on his computer. The young agent had looked up briefly as the three men entered, but then returned his gaze to his computer screen.
Vin made his way over to his own desk and started going through the file drawer.
"How'd it go, pard'?" Buck asked, sidling up to sit on the edge of the desk.
"Okay," the sharpshooter replied quietly. "Thanks to Ezra."
"Yup, that silver-tongued devil can talk the sting out of a bee," the mustached agent smiled. "That's why we elected him to be our union rep."
"And if you're quite ready, Mr. Wilmington," the southerner called, "I do believe you are next to speak with the bee."
+ + + + + + +
Vin reviewed and organized the files he had that would help the team bring McMurtry down and neatly placed them on Chris's desk while the senior agent once again rode shotgun against a Dowd inquiry. Leaving the boss's office he walked hesitantly across the room to JD's desk.
"Can we talk?"
"Don't really have anything I want to say to you," JD answered, not taking his eyes from his computer screen.
"JD. Please. I don't expect you to understand. I just want to tell you why I lied to you."
The youngest team member heaved a sigh. "Go away, Vin. No excuse is good enough."
The sharpshooter hovered without speaking.
"You're bothering me, Vin."
"JD?"
With a huff, the young agent turned his attention to his former friend. "It's all your fault, Vin," he hissed. "All your fault. Chris was just a regular guy 'til you came along. We all were just fine. Then you showed up and now look." JD gulped down his emotions. "We're a big fucking mess. . ." His voice faded as he pushed his way past Vin, who stood as if stricken with fists.
JD swept through the office and slammed his way out the door. Noticing the commotion, Nathan approached Vin.
"What's going on?"
"Nothin'." Vin moved slowly, purposefully toward his desk, Nathan trailing.
"Vin, I want to say, to tell you, that is, I'm real sorry. I know this has gotta be harder than anything and I don't want to make it any worse for you. That is to say, uh, that I'm here for you, Vin."
Vin nodded vaguely, straightening his already empty desktop.
"Vin? You okay?"
"Tell . . . I'm going upstairs . . . waitin' on Nettie," he spoke feebly, pushing aside Nathan's helping hand. "Really, Nate. I'm . . . fine."
+ + + + + + +
The elevator door shushed open and Vin Tanner stepped out slowly. The day had already proven more physically demanding than he'd bargained for and the emotional toll was getting too heavy to bear. He needed out. At least he could hide in Nettie's office until she was ready to leave.
Human Resources had recently relocated to the back hallway on the twelfth floor, which otherwise was undergoing renovations. Vin passed through carpetless, patched hallways and numerous empty offices in search of HR's new quarters. He heard voices in the back of one room and paused. He thought Nettie had told him the offices were elsewhere on this floor.
Then he heard JD's voice. "He won't fall for it."
"Make the call anyway."
Vin went lightheaded with dread.
"Vin isn't stupid. I just blew him off. He won't believe it if I tell him I want to meet him up here to talk."
"Then call him and tell him I've got his other little sweet friend and he'd better get his faggy-ass up here if he doesn't want you to get some of the same as he got," snarled the other voice.
Vin stepped into the shadowy office space, the only light coming from a construction lantern in the adjoining room.
"Get away from him, Paulson."
Conrad Paulson patted JD's head harshly and snickered. "See? You did fine without even trying. He's here already. Welcome to our little party. Come in and shut the door."
"No, Vin! Go!"
Paulson slapped JD across the face with the back of his hand. "Shut up, punk!"
Vin backed up toward the door, glancing over his shoulder, sizing up his chances of getting away and seeking help quickly.
A glint of steel and the clicks of a gun being racked and charged changed his mind. JD became Paulson's pawn in the game of revenge he'd come to exact against Vin.
"Leave him outta this. You got a gripe with me, we'll deal with it. Just us. He goes." Vin nodded at JD but kept his eyes on the maniac who held him. The sharpshooter wished he had a weapon of any sort on him right now, but he was not only unarmed, he was one-armed. The sick irony of it almost made him laugh.
"Oh, but this is so much more fun, the three of us." Paulson tightened his grip around JD's throat and pushed the gun, with its now-visible silencer, snugly against the young man's temple. JD's wide eyes glinted in the dim light. Vin knew his fear. His own mouth went dry with apprehension.
"What do you want?" Vin tried to ignore the ferocious beating of his heart and too-rapid breaths that made it hard for him to talk.
Paulson gave off a high-pitched cackle that raised the fine hairs along Vin's arms and neck. "Ooooh, what a delicious request. Let me think," he mocked, lightly tapping the gun muzzle against his captive's head.
"First, let's have you over here, away from the door."
Against his instincts, Vin walked stiffly, fearfully into the chamber with his nemesis.
"Now get on your knees."
A flash of recollection went through Vin's mind and he saw himself falling helplessly, painfully onto his knees in front of Chris and his torturers while the blood flowed from his body and the will from his soul.
In a moment's madness Vin threw himself at Paulson, reaching out to knock the gun away from JD's head. The younger agent staggered backward from the force as Vin and Paulson grappled for control of the weapon.
Vin heard JD hit the wall with a moan. It seemed Vin was on his own. And his strength was nonexistent. Sheer frustration and anger spurred him enough to put up a fight, but after only a short struggle, Paulson knocked him off his feet and the two landed heavily on the floor, Vin pinned beneath the larger, heavier, healthier man, who maintained control of the gun.
Vin gasped for breath to tamp down the nausea that swept through him as each of his newly insulted injuries called for attention. Looking up at Paulson, Vin was certain he glimpsed the face of insanity.
"You thought you could get away with blaming me for problems you've brought on yourself?" Paulson's breath was thick with the odors of whiskey and cigars - just as Vin remembered. He felt panic encroaching. "You're as weak-minded as you are weak-willed," the older man rebuked as he shoved the gun into Vin's mouth and stared into his face. "Any last requests, pretty man?" he sneered.
"Paulson."
The man on top of Vin jerked his head in the direction of the new voice.
Vin felt relief surge through his veins and he shifted his eyes as much as he could to see Chris Larabee backlit in the doorway of the room, his duty weapon steadily aimed at Paulson.
"You got two seconds to back off before I kill you."
Vin twitched his head a fraction and caught Chris's eye. With a blink, the ATF leader signaled Vin, who shoved Paulson and his weapon up and away. Paulson swiftly regained control of his gun and discharged it at Chris who simultaneously squeezed his trigger. Paulson's brains rained down on Vin.
In the stunning silence that followed, Vin rolled out from under Paulson's remains and retched.
+ + + + + + +
"Vin? You okay?" Josiah asked, placing a steadying hand on Vin's shoulder.
The sharpshooter nodded his head as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He vaguely wondered how Josiah came to be there so soon but dismissed the thought as the realization of what happened hit him. He turned and was just about to call for Chris when he saw him lying motionless in the doorway.
"Chris!" he shouted and lunged forward toward the fallen man. Nathan was there, applying pressure to the bullet wound in Chris's chest. "Chris?" he whispered, his eyes begging the medic for good news.
"Took one in the chest. He's havin' some trouble breathin' but the ambulance is on the way," Nathan reported.
"Oh, God!" Vin cried, reaching out to put a hand to Chris's cheek. "Don't you leave me, Larabee!" Not now, his mind screamed in panic. In a burst of clarity, Vin knew he'd been wrong about how to counter the accusations. He knelt low over the unresponsive man. "I need you," he whispered desperately.
"I'm sure he'll be fine, Vin." Another voice. Vin looked up to see JD stagger towards them, trying his best to avoid Paulson's remains.
"JD?" he rasped, horrified that he'd almost forgotten the youngest team member was in the room, too. That he'd almost become Paulson's next victim. It was all too much. Vin slumped back against the wall and watched as paramedics arrived and surged into action around Chris's still form.
+ + + + + + +
JD stood in the hallway outside the radiology suite. The others were upstairs in the surgical waiting room, waiting for news on Chris. He scratched absently at the sore spot on top of his head, winced and cursed himself for forgetting. He'd gotten half a dozen stitches for the wound he received when he hit the wall and a pile of tools on the floor after Vin shoved him out of Paulson's grasp. But he'd passed all the medical tests and been released.
Half an hour earlier, he managed to get Buck and Nettie, who'd been waiting on Vin, to join Josiah, Ezra and Nathan upstairs, saying he had some unfinished business to attend to. He didn't have to elaborate. He knew by the reassuring hug from Nettie and the wink Buck had given him that they understood.
Some of that unfinished business was still upstairs in surgery. More was now being pushed toward him in a wheelchair.
"I can take him," he told the nurse pushing Vin. "Room two-fifteen, right?" he asked. The nurse looked somewhat unsure about leaving his charge. "You can meet us there...in about ten minutes?" JD added, with a pleading look. A nod from Vin convinced the nurse and he handed over the re-injured agent.
"You okay, JD?" Vin asked as they began their trip.
"Better than you, I guess," the younger man replied quietly. "Buck said your shoulder got screwed up again. That you're gonna need surgery on it this time."
"Yeah, just when I was gettin' able to pull up my own zipper again."
JD let out a quiet chuckle before turning serious. "I...uh... I just want to thank you, Vin," he stammered. "For what happened...for saving me... Even after everything I said to you..."
Vin reached for the wheelchair's brake and pulled it, stopping them in their tracks. He turned his head to look up and back at JD before grabbing JD's shirt and pulling him down to his side. JD dropped to his knees quickly, surprised by Vin's sudden strength.
"JD, you had every right to say those things to me," Vin began, his eyes easily showing the guilt he was still feeling. "We lied to ya. To everyone. Just hopin' to avoid all this." He paused, and set his gaze onto the floor. "But it happened anyway and all we did was hurt each other in the end, huh?" he finished.
"Chris told me why you lied," the younger man replied, moving his body so he could look Vin in the eyes. "I guess I was just too hurt to see reason. To see past my own prejudices."
"Can ya now?" the sharpshooter asked tentatively. "Can ya see that we ain't any different than before ya found out?"
"I'm trying," JD replied honestly. "It's still something I gotta get used to. I guess like Chris said, what you and he do together isn't something I'd choose to do, but as long as it doesn't affect work, it isn't any of my business."
After a long moment of silence, Vin offered his hand to JD. "Friends?" he asked.
"Friends," JD replied, clasping the offered hand.
"Good, now let's head up to see how Chris is doing," Vin said.
"But I told the nurse -,"
"Fuck 'im."
+ + + + + + +
The two hadn't been in the waiting room with Nettie and the others for long when the surgical team entered.
"How is he?" Seven voices at once.
"He's going to be just fine," one of the doctors replied. "The bullet broke a rib and punctured his left lung, about here," he continued, pointing to an area high on his chest. "He'll be in ICU for a few days for starters, though."
"Can I see him?" Vin asked.
The doctor looked curiously at the man in the wheelchair. He didn't look too much better than the man he'd just spent two hours patching up.
"He's Chris's next of kin," Buck put in, hopeful.
The doctor nodded his head. "Just for a few minutes."
+ + + + + + +
Chris floated on a wave. Lifted and dropped rhythmically, he felt lulled, lethargic. Then the wave grew and grew until he was at its peak and the crest could no longer hold his weight. Crashing down, the force of the wave slammed him with a fury, leaving him breathless with pain.
The wind sang a soothing song in his ear and the pain ebbed along with the remnants of the wave. The wind shifted and the song became a soft chant. It's okay. I'm here. It's okay. I'm here.
He pried his eyes open toward the source of the sound and felt a surge of relief so great tears sprang to his eyes.
"Chris? What is it? You need the doc?"
Larabee raised a weak hand, placing it on Vin's cheek. Soothing away the worry with his thumb, he smiled feebly. "You're okay."
Grasping Chris's hand, Vin gently stroked and kneaded the fingers. "Better'n you by a damn sight," he said softly.
"You're back . . . in a . . . sling."
Vin gave a lopsided shrug. "Fer a short while."
"JD?"
"He's fine. Bump on the head's all."
Chris grimaced against another stab of pain and felt Vin's pressure on his hand increase in reassurance. An image of Paulson pinning Vin to the floor then aiming his gun at him flashed through his mind. When the pain subsided he opened his eyes. "And Paulson? Did I kill 'im?"
"Dead as they get."
Again, Larabee felt a rush of relief. "Good."
"I'm sorry it came to that, Chris. There's gonna be a mess of reports and inquiries and shit. If I hadn't been so stubborn . . . "
Chris made a face of annoyance. "Bullshit. You didn't . . . make me do it. He did. He did it to himself." His voice was scratchy and he tried to lick his lips, overcome with thirst.
Vin touched a damp cloth to his mouth and Chris sucked on it urgently. "More," he demanded as Vin withdrew the cloth.
"Gotta take it slow . . ." Vin said reaching for an ice chip, " . . . right after surgery."
"Shuddup," Chris replied sticking out his tongue eagerly.
"Cranky ol' cuss when yer not feelin' good," Vin muttered.
"What's that . . . damn . . . noise?" Larabee asked gasping between jabs of pain.
"The machine that's hooked to the tube stuck in your lung."
Chris groaned.
"Hurts like shit, don't it?"
"You enjoyin'. . . this?" Chris squinted suspiciously at Vin.
"Every minute," Vin replied with a wink. But his levity evaporated quickly. Drying his fingertips on the blanket, he took Chris's hand back into his own and cleared his throat. "Chris - "
Larabee felt panic sweep through him.
"I gotta tell ya - "
"Not now." Chris's voice was strained. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away and extracting his fingers from Vin's.
Uneasy silence settled between them. Chris wished Vin would go away. He already knew what Vin had to say and now was not a real good time in his estimation. He hadn't felt this full out hellish in a long, long time. Kind of gave him a new appreciation for all the damage Vin seemed to sustain regularly.
He heard the injured sharpshooter draw a shaky breath and fumble with the wheelchair, trying to get it backed up using his one good arm. Chris turned his head to watch and his heart contracted at the sight of the worn out, battered man trying to maintain his dignity while battling a recalcitrant piece of machinery.
"Wait, Vin. Say . . . what you got to say."
"It can wait." Tanner's mouth said one thing, his forlorn expression another.
"Talk." Chris tried to look Vin in the eye. To look defiant and sturdy. He doubted he was really coming across that way.
Vin pulled himself up close to the bedside but suddenly looked like he was reconsidering. He fidgeted with the guardrail then breathed in deeply and spoke in a rush on the exhale. "Remember when we were in the basement? When I tried to talk to you but passed out?"
Chris nodded. He remembered and the vision caused more pain to his chest than the damned tube that invaded there now.
"I was trying to say - to tell you that I don't care what anyone thinks about us. That I would stand by you forever, no matter what happens. It doesn't matter what other people think or say."
Hearing the words he ached to hear for so long caused Chris's heart to thunder, not because he was finally hearing them, but because he knew they signaled a bomb yet to drop.
"But I proved myself a liar. Seems I do care."
And there it was.
"This whole thing scared me shitless, Chris, and I acted . . . stupidly. In fact, all I did was react, without thinking at all."
"You did what anyone - "
"No. Anyone with a spine would have stood up for what he believes in. I was just a scared rabbit runnin' away from the truth."
Chris fumbled his hand along the bed to find and grasp Vin's.
"What is the truth, Vin?"
Vin glanced away quickly then gulped. "I . . . need you," he whispered, returning his gaze to Chris's fearful face. Clearing his throat, he spoke a little louder. "I want you."
Chris stared into the young man's sapphire eyes, brimming with unshed tears. "That mean you love me?" Chris didn't mean for it to, but his voice sounded daring, defiant. He didn't want to leave anything to chance or misunderstanding.
"Yeah. I sure do." Vin gave a small abrupt nod, sending twin tears into freefall before landing on the lovers' entwined hands.
The corner of Larabee's mouth spasmed against the urge to cry. "You sure?"
Vin inhaled and studied the weave of the bedspread. At last he lifted his gaze to stare directly at Chris. "I still feel the same way I did before Paulson. No. Even more. I just . . . lost sight of that fer a spell. I thought saving face and stopping ugly rumors was more important. I was wrong. Real, real wrong."
Chris Larabee - ATF team leader, ruthless law enforcer - couldn't manage a word around the lump lodged in his throat.
"But are you sure?"
"Huh?" Chris croaked.
"I don't ever want you to get hurt for loving me, Chris. But it keeps happening. And, I'm the one's been doin' most the hurting lately. You sure you want to keep doing this? With me, I mean?"
A hybrid cry -laugh erupted from Chris's throat. "Who else'd have . . . either one . . . of us?"
Vin grinned with one corner of his mouth, blinking back the wetness that kept seeping from his eyes.
"Vin?" Chris whispered the name. "Come . . . here. Closer."
Vin leaned low over the man on the bed.
"Tell me, flat out."
The young man skimmed a warm kiss against Chris's lips. "I love you, Chris Larabee."
The End