ATF Universe
Feedback: Please do, I'd love to hear from ya
Disclaimer: Wish I did, but I don't. I stake claim to the spelling and grammatical errors, all else belongs to them.
Comments: This is longer than I intended, just kept unravelling. Kind of "lite"-h/c, with a dash of slash. I did microscopic amounts of research, so if parts seem terribly wrong, well...The total amount of my medical knowledge is pretty much limited to dosing out motrin and chicken soup to my kids during cold and flu season. Oh, and I can handle a pretty mean band-aid, too.
PLEASE READ: Now, you may have read Joy's recent general fic, Connecting the Dots, very similar to this one. I read her excellent fic the very same day I sent this one to Judy for beta (my thanks to Judy, who could relate all too well!!)-Joy and I must've shared a muse, though somehow I ended up with the rather seamier half :-) Anyway, no, I didn't copy her, I don't write that fast, and although similar in theme, there are some differences-the slash parts being kind of a biggie-hehe, and my story is more on the 'lite' side.
So, I thank Joy for allowing me to send this to her to read before I posted, when she normally wouldn't read slash and is probably tired of the whole itchy subject anyway, and thanks to Judy for telling me to slash it when it wasn't originally, and thanks to both for encouraging me to post it when I almost didn't- and hope you all aren't now too tired of all the itchin' and scratchin'. Thanks for the title, Joy-
"I can't believe y'ain't goin.'""Damn, Vin, how many times do I have to say this? I can't go. You have to go. Buck has to go. Ezra has to go. It's only for two days. You'll live. End of story."
"But-"
"Stop."
"It's just-"
"Stop."
"Okay, fine. But I ain't gonna like it."
"Yes, I know. You've said as much."
"But, I can't believe y'ain't go-"
"Stop."
"Fine, I'll stop."
"Good. Thank you."
"For now."
Chris smiled. He knew this would not be the last he'd hear of the conversation. Placing his hand lightly on the back of his lover, he traced invisible circles over the warm, smooth skin beneath his fingertips. He let his touch play lower down the man's back, sliding over silky flesh, following the luscious curve of a firm ass then lightly parting its crevice and running a fingertip down one side to glide gently inside the strong thigh. An elbow hit him in the ribs. Hard.
"Shit."
"Geeze Chris, I'm sorry but that tickled."
"Well, remind me not t'tickle you again, y' could've broken something, here." He gently pressed on his side. "You've got some bony elbows there, pard."
"Sorry, I said I was sorry, didn't mean t' hit ya, was a reflex...y' jus' took me by surprise..."
"Oh, I'll take you any way I want, Tanner."
"Is that a threat?"
"Maybe."
"Or a promise?"
"Absolutely."
+ + + + + + +
The flight to New York City was uneventful. Buck Wilmington sighed, his voice heavy with relief over that fact. Vin could be prone to claustrophobia on occasion and Buck and Ezra both were relieved to find the younger man somewhat preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay much attention to the cramped cabin around them. They plied him with several alcoholic beverages on the flight in an attempt to soothe any rough edges, and it wasn't until the landing gear touched tarmac that Vin seemed to become fully aware they were now on the ground.
"Huh. That wasn't so bad." Vin hated that while it seemed to take the pilot an eternity to pull up to the assigned gate, everyone always stood filling the aisles immediately after touch down. Drove him nuts having bodies sandwiched together that way. When they reached the gate, he remained seated, staring out the small window at the baggage handlers.
"There's your suitcase Buck. Yours too, Ezra. Shit, I don't see mine. Shouldn't they be together? We did check-in at the same time. Goddamn if they lose my stuff, I swear-"
"Vin. Vin. Calm down, no one's lost your luggage, don't get tense. Let's jus' get you offa this plane and you'll feel much better. Ezra, help Vin get his coat outta the bin, will you?"
Ezra opened the compartment above them, retrieving his and the sharpshooter's coats. He turned, holding open the leather jacket so Vin could slide his arm into the sleeve.
"Goddamn, Ezra, I c'n do it."
Ezra rolled his eyes and turned away, dropping the coat into the seat behind him. He tried to ignore the mumbling coming from his left.
"Pack us in like sardines, I swear. Y'pay all o'this money to fly in the sky like some damn bird when people got no business flyin' anyways, then they make the seats smaller 'n' smaller every year jus' so's they c'n pack more 'n' more in like sardines, 'n' charge ya even more for th'privilege. Man I hate flyin'. "
Buck looked at Vin, hearing the young man ramble. He glanced at Ezra, shaking his head. "Next time, remind me just to give him a big old fashioned sleeping pill."
+ + + + + + +
"Okay, we get a cab, check-in, then grab a bite to eat, I'm starved."
"Yes, Mr. Wilmington, I can say, for once, I absolutely concur."
After retrieving their luggage, they made their way outside to wait for a yellowcab.
It was raining.
"It's raining," Vin said, flatly. "How come I knew it'd be raining? How come it always rains when I come to this hell-hole?"
"Hell-hole? I happen to love this city and find the pulse of it invigorating. There is so much here, so much to see and do, why, the very streets are humming all night long."
"Geeze, Ezra, Ya gonna break out into song?" Buck grinned. He enjoyed being in New York also, always finding new things to do when he visited, and he knew Ezra felt the same way. But Vin, he was more the outdoors, big sky type, and found most cities stifling, especially New York.
"Very amusing, Buck. I was merely trying to explain the-"
"Cab's here. Let's go."
They piled into the back of the taxi, Vin, then Ezra, finally Buck closing the door behind him.
"Shit, Buck. Y'can't ride up front?"
"Then I'd miss the conversation back here."
"Not likely." Vin was tired, his head stuffy. He felt sluggish and somewhat drained. He closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the high seat, his mind barely registering what his companions were discussing, and within minutes he was snoring lightly.
"Didn't think two drinks would hit him that hard." Buck said as he shifted to get comfortable.
"No, probably just the stress from flying. He'll be fine, let him sleep until we arrive at our accomodations. In this traffic, that could be an eternity."
The cab wound its way through congestion finally making its way into Manhattan. They reached their hotel just as Vin was awakening.
"We there?" he asked groggily. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, softly sighing as he felt the beginning of a headache forming. Great, a headache. What luck.
They all but fell out of the cab, grabbed suitcases and made their way through the glass doors. Following the escalators up, they passed the three meeting room floors, where most of the conference they were attending was to be held. Finally, they reached the lobby, weaving through the throngs of people to the front desk.
"Boy, is this place crowded." Buck smiled, he enjoyed people, enjoyed being in a crowd. He seemed to draw energy from others, becoming more alive when surrounded by the masses.
Ezra, too, enjoyed the feeling of the human congestion. He derived great pleasure from watching and studying others, wondering what made them tick, make the choices they chose, and New York was a great city to people watch. He was going to really enjoy this trip.
Vin, on the other hand, felt more and more suffocated with every additional body he encountered. He stared at the patterned carpet, shuffling forward as the check-in line lessened, hoping to put an end to this misery. His head was really starting to throb, and his throat was getting drier every time he tried to swallow. This was going to be a long two days.
"I don't believe it, how could this happen? I swear, I hate this city. Nothing ever goes right when I'm here." Vin was fuming and Buck wasn't helping by trying to be oh, so gracious."Now, Vin, there ain't nothin' we can do about it, so I say jus' make th' best o' what we got."
"I swear, Buck, if you say anything 'bout makin' lemonade outta lemons..."
"Y'now what your problem is, Vin? Y'got no sense of adventure. Drama. Hell, this could be lotta fun, if ya let it." Buck was trying to be upbeat, but the damn boy was being so pessimistic.
"Drama I don't need," Vin knew in his gut this was going to turn out badly. For him. "What th' hell's a Murphy bed anyways?"
"It is an style of furniture, designed to look as though part of a wall or cabinet unit. The bed itself is hidden from view, brought down when needed. Some are quite comfortable."
Vin just glared at Ezra. Why th' hell the hotel hadn't given away Ezra's reservation...Vin shook his head, noticing the height at which he found himself. Floor 42. Yep. That's where they were. He peered out the walls of the glass elevator, "Up pretty high, huh?" He loved high places.
Ezra was looking straight at the closed doors. He knew where they were, just didn't want to let his brain wrap too tightly around the image. He was none too fond of heights. Thank God his room was located some twenty floors below this one. And thank God Buck had offered Vin to share his room with him, once they were informed Vin's reservation had been given away. The hotel was a major business meeting center and there were several different conferences happening simulataneously. Unfortunately, the hotel had overbooked, and while Ezra's reservation was intact, Buck's had been mishandled and Vin's was non-existant. The hotel agent had apologetically handed the card-keys to the men, giving them directions to the correct glass elevator to take them to their accomodations.
Vin barely registered the closeness of the elevator, another small place of which he was not fond, because at the moment, he was furious. How can it happen, when you make a fuckin' reservation? He followed Buck into the room as he slid the card in and out of the lock turning the light green. The room Buck reserved and the one he now found himself in were not one and the same. For some reason the hotel had changed his reservation to read mini-suite, not that he was complaining. It was fairly nice, a small living area with a loveseat and two chairs, and a well stocked pay-as-you-go wet bar. He turned to the wall unit, dark cabinetry covered one wall. He was beginning to regret the offer to Vin. The Murphy bed did not look that big. He pulled on the handle and down it came. Definitely not a king.
"That, my dear sirs, is no more a queen than my dear mother," Ezra frowned at the small bed.
"Looks t'me like a double. At best," Buck agreed, nodding his head. No way he and Vin could fit in this bed without sleeping on top of each other. Both men looked at Vin. He was staring at the bed with glassy eyes. He looked up at the two men. God, his head hurt.
"I'll take the loveseat." He turned and plopped down into one of the chairs, then hit the television remote repeatedly until he found ESPN. He stared vacantly at the screen.
"We'll see we can't rustle up a cot or somethin'," Buck shrugged. Ezra left to find his own room. They agreed to meet in the lobby in fifteen minutes to get lunch.
+ + + + + + +
Lunch was thick sandwiches at the hotel's deli. Vin thought he might be feeling slightly better now that he'd eaten a little. The three men pulled out their iteneraries, comparing schedules.
"We all have that introductory seminar this evening. I believe that's a dinner as well."
Vin could've cared less. He really didn't want to be here for this, anyway. The only talk he was even remotely interested in was on the morning of the second day of the two-day conference, but he'd been sent to attend several other seminars and there was no getting around that. He shifted in his seat silently wishing his headache would go away.
"After that, we all have separate meetings to attend, I guess, although I may join you for the seminar on points of negotiation, Buck."
"Sounds good. What 'bout you, Vin, you comin' t'that one,too?"
He turned to the younger man who was staring off into space.
'Vin? Vin?" Buck shook his shoulder. "Ya with us here?"
"Huh?" Vin looked at the older man. "Yeah, sorry. M' head hurts some. I may go back up t' the room, lie down a spell."
"Really. You want it, I got some aspirin in my bag."
"Jus' kinda tired's all. Thought I's feelin' better now I ate, but I'm runnin' outta steam 'n m' head's 'bout ready to explode. So, you don't mind, I'll see y'all in a bit." He drew himself slowly up from the table, and left in search of the elevators.
"Looks tired, too. Never thought I'd hear him admit to that, though."
"Well, we'll check on him later. For the present, however, I believe I hear merchandise beckoning."
+ + + + + + +
Vin bought some throat lozenges at the small sundries store off the main lobby. He found the correct bank of elevators and, after a considerable wait, one arrived.
"Bout time," he muttered to himself. Two men and a woman stepped in with him. Vin glanced at the trio and managed a small smile. They all stood gazing up as the floor numbers were displayed. The woman smiled back as the elevator chimed. The group exited and Vin watched again as the numbers lit up until reaching his destination. He pushed himself off the elevator's wall and headed out the opened doors. Moving slowly, he found his room, unlocked the door and stepped inside heading straight for the wet bar where he downed two large glasses of water. He rubbed at his temples for a moment before deciding whether he really wanted to nap or not. The hotel had placed a metal fold-out cot in the room and he undid the latch that sandwiched it closed. Deciding instead to take a shower, he hoped the warm water would ease the tension in his neck and shoulders and maybe lessen the pain in his head as well. But first, he wanted to make a phone call.
Sitting on the side of the small Murphy bed, he reached for the phone and dialed Chris's number, hoping to hear his lover's voice. The answering maching picked up instead, and he left a short message. He opened his suitcase, rummaging around until he found a pair of sweatpants which he took into the large, marble bathroom. He turned on the shower then looked at his reflection in the mirror. Even considering the hotel's poor lighting, he knew he looked every bit as tired as he felt. He sighed, undressed, then stepped under the warm, wet spray.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra and Buck returned a few hours later to the mini-suite, several shopping bags gripped in each hand. They entered the semi-dark room, the television's blue strobe-like effect the only illumination. Buck flipped on a switch, soft light lit up the room. Ezra wandered over to the bed, peering down at the sleeping figure. Vin was sprawled on his stomach diagonally across the small Murphy bed, a pillow over his head.
"Seems you're to repair to the cot, Buck. Clearly someone has purloined your bed, and I have serious doubts of it being Goldilocks."
Buck folded his arms, "Probably fakin' a headache just so's he could beat me outta that bed."
A groggy voice softly sounded, muffled by the pillow.
"What's that, Sleeping Beauty?" Buck asked, removing the obstruction from the sleepy head.
"I said, y'all are louder than a stampede." He raised his head, opening bleary eyes to look at his companions.
"Y'look like shit, Vin."
"Oh, thanks. Wasn't sure. Glad to know," he replied, rolling on his back and flinging one arm over his eyes to block out the light that seemed to want to pierce his very skull. His headache was worse, and he was sore and irritable. He sat up, head in hands as he leaned his elbows on his legs. "Guess I ought t' get dressed, what time's this dinner?"
"Commences in one hour. Gentlemen, we'll reaquaint in the lobby. " Ezra left, once again thanking the powers that be for not saddling him with the grumpy sharpshooter.
The dinner and following meeting went on for hours, finally wrapping well after midnight. Vin had never been so relieved to see a hotel cot in his life. He tiredly undressed, his movements seeming almost painful. Buck watched the slow progress, "Vin, why don't you just go ahead, take the bed. Y'already graced it anyhow, I'll take the cot, I don't mind, really." He could tell the younger man truly wasn't feeling well.
Vin smiled, gratefully. "Thanks, Buck, think I will." Normally he wouldn't have cared in which of the two he slept, but tonight, he was so worn out the soft bed seemed too inviting. He pulled back the sheet, dropped heavily onto the mattress and was immediately asleep. Buck leaned down and pulled the blanket up over the slumbering form then tried to make himself comfortable on the metal cot. His feet hung over the edge. Damn.
The first conference day went slow as molasses. Vin felt like he was moving through sludge. Never proficient at note-taking he taped the conferences on a micro recorder, and barely kept his eyes open as it worked. He skipped the dinner that night, choosing instead to lie sprawled on the bed, half-heartedly watching some idiotic movie. He was asleep by the time Buck made it back to the room and didn't awaken until the next morning.By the time the second day of the conference arrived, Vin felt like the walking dead. He had the worst case of flu imaginable, and couldn't wait to get on the plane home. He sat through the last seminar, again barely concentrating on the speaker's comments. It was too bad, its subject was futuristic firepower, the only talk he'd wanted to hear, and now it was all he could do to suffer through the last minutes.
At last. The speaker made his concluding summary and Vin hurried to leave as fast as he could, which wasn't fast at all. Ezra was exiting from his last seminar as well and caught up to him in the lobby.
"You look decidedly unwell. Shall we call an ambulance now or just cut out the middleman and send you directly to the coroner?" Ezra joked, looking somewhat concerned at the very pale young man.
"Oh, you're a funny guy, Ez, anyone ever tell you that?" Vin sniffed, he was just too tired. His skin hurt. Hell, even his hair hurt.
"Just one of my many attributes, Mr. Tanner, one of many." Ezra placed his hand on Vin's upper arm and lead him to the correct bank of elevators. They had already packed and checked out, Buck having retrieved the small amount of luggage and waiting for them by the cab stop downstairs.
Vin was more quiet than usual during the ride to the airport. Again, he rode with his head back, eyes closed most of the way, rousing only to cough from time to time. Buck and Ezra glanced in his direction, speaking softly so as not to disturb the resting man.
"Guess don't need that sleeping pill for the plane home after all," Buck joked. He felt bad for Vin, it was no fun being sick while traveling.
"Well, I'm just praying whatever plague seems to have befallen him doesn't decide to infect us all."
By the time they touched down they were all thankful to be home. Vin slept through most of the flight, awakening only to drink several glasses of water and grumble something about turning the heat down before resuming his slumber.They disembarked, retrieved their luggage and piled into Nathan's Explorer. He took one look at Vin and sighed, "Let me guess, you got the flu or something, right?" The young man looked terribly pale and not at all well. Vin nodded his head and climbed into the back seat, wanting only to be left alone.
"Nice o' you t' pick us up, Nate. Thought JD was gonna do that," Buck commented, heaving himself up into the vehicle.
"Yeah, he was but then he called me instead. Something about having a plumbing emergency at your place. Sounded a little desperate, Buck, I don't know, you may not want t'go home just yet," Nathan laughed hearing the groan from the backseat. JD could have more mishaps than anyone he knew.
"Nathan? You know if Chris is out at the ranch?" Vin's voice held a rougher edge than usual.
"Yeah, Vin, he is. In fact, we're all coming over later to meet for dinner, hear about what great ideas y'all got from this conference. Rain's coming, too. Hey, maybe she could have a look at ya, you not feelin' well an' all," Nathan replied, glancing into the rear-view mirror. Vin was leaning against the window. Yup, definitely lookin' sick.
After having dropped Buck at the townhouse he shared with JD, he made his way to Ezra's condominium.
"And what time are we expected at Mr. Larabee's?"
"'Bout six or so. Think he's gonna grill up some steaks, too. He said to tell you to bring some wine, you being the connoisseur and all."
Ezra rolled his eyes, muttering to himself as he departed.
"Okay, Vin. I'm going t' pick up my lovely wife, no sense in driving all the way to Chris's t'drop you off, come back get Rain, then go all the way out again. This'll only take a minute," Nathan said, again checking the rear-view. Vin had his eyes closed, Nathan wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not, but chose to remain silent for the trip to his wife's medical clinic. Rain was waiting in front of the building when they arrived. She climbed in, giving her husband a quick kiss, then turned her attention to the man who appeared to be asleep in the backseat.
"Vin all right?"
"Don't think so, says he's got the flu or something. Been asleep most of the ride."
Rain turned, "I'll look at him when we get to the ranch. Did you go to the store for me? I'd hate to arrive empty-handed."
"Yup, got all the stuff for you to make salad, not a problem. We're gonna pass the turn off to Vin's neighborhood, think I should stop for him to drop off his stuff?"
"Nah, let him sleep," she replied as she reached into her pocket, "Oh, that reminds me. I have his noise-maker." She withdrew her hand, now holding the beat-up harmonica.
"Where'd you get that? Vin's been looking for that couple weeks. We all hoped it was lost forever."
Rain laughed pocketing the small instrument. "Anita Figueroa. Y'now, she's one of his neighbors. She had it with her when she brought in her children to their follow-up yesterday. Said she hadn't seen Vin at his apartment for a while and figured I'd give it to you to return to him. I guess he's been staying with Chris a lot lately."
"How'd she come by it?"
"Oh, she said Vin must've left it when he babysat one afternoon for her two kids-"
"Babysit? I didn't know he did that sorta thing," Nathan chuckled, he knew Vin cared greatly for the children of his less-than-middle-class neighborhood.
"Well, she said he'd watched her kids a few hours while she ran out and then she found the-" She stopped abruptly, her head whipping around to stare at the man asleep in the back. "Uh-oh."
"What? What uh-oh? What's the problem, Rain?" Nathan knew that tone of his wife's voice. It usually meant trouble for whomever was on her uh-oh receiving end.
"Hmm, maybe nothing. I'll check it out when we get to Chris's place. Flu, huh?," she said, turning slowly around to face front. Nathan knew the gears were spinning in her sharp mind.
+ + + + + + +
Nathan pulled up the long driveway, the door to the garage open in front of him. Chris's truck was parked inside, Vin's battered Jeep sat next to Josiah's vehicle.
"Josiah's here already. Vin. Hey, Vin, we're here," Nathan called to the man resting in back.
Vin opened his eyes and sighed as he saw the familiar garage out his window. He slowly eased himself onto his feet and stretched his neck trying to loosen the tight muscles there and in his shoulders. He felt stiff and sore all over and the only place he wanted to go was to bed. For a year. He made a grab for his suitcase, Nathan picking it up instead. "Go on in, Vin, I got this," Nathan told him, and he nodded turning into the house.
Nathan and Rain unpacked the groceries they'd brought and carried them inside to the kitchen where they were met by Josiah offering to lend a hand. "You brought enough stuff here for an army, Nathan," he exclaimed, eyeing the several grocery bags sitting on the granite counter.
"I know, it's my wife's fault. She doesn't know how to make anything small, it's always enough for leftovers for a week. Y'oughta see my fridge. She cooked this soup the other night and it grew...was like the loaves and fishes. I'm still findin' it sittin' in every container we got. Gazpacho here, gazpacho there, everywhere. An' the worst part, Josiah? I don't even like tomatoes!"
"Nathan!" Rain stood at the door of the kitchen, her arms crossed. "Thought you said you liked my gazpacho." She stepped aside as Chris entered the kitchen.
Nathan grinned, raising his shoulders, "Oh Rain, of course I-"
"Hey Nathan, Rain, good to see you. I didn't know you were coming out this early," Chris cut off Nathan who sighed in relief, the conversation now directed away from his wife's soup disaster.
"Yeah Chris, JD called with some sort of plumbing emergency so I picked up the boys from the airport. Figured pickin' up Rain and headed out here now was easier than fightin' traffic later. So here we are, hope that's alright."
"Oh, yeah Nathan, great. So, where's Vin?"
"You didn't see him come in? Probably went to find a bed to lie in, he ain't feelin' too good, says he's got the flu," Nathan offered.
"That reminds me, I'd like to have a look at him when you figure out where he's gone," Rain said, unpacking more groceries. She frowned at the iceberg lettuce she held in her hand. "This the only kind of lettuce they have at the store? No bibb, butter or mesclun mix? No red-leaf, romaine or raddichio? Only this tasteless stuff, Nathan? You know I don't like to make salad without several kinds of greens."
"Yeah, I know. You like that weird lettuce. Weeds. You and Ezra. Well, I don't know how t' pick out that stuff so I grabbed a couple heads of iceberg instead. It's green too, y'now. Tastes perfectly fine to me," Nathan replied with a small grin. He loved iceberg salads. Rain couldn't stand them. Wouldn't make them, either.
Rain scowled at him, then held a head in each hand. "Here, Josiah, make yourself useful. Wash it and chop it and I'll see if I can't make a vinaigrette to add some kind of flavor. I'm going to check on Vin." She handed over the lettuce, washed her hands and left, leaving the two men to stare at her vanishing form.
"She's some kinda wife, Nathan. Hope you're appreciating that."
"Oh, I am, Josiah, I most certainly am, weeds 'n' all."
Chris found Vin lying on the bed in the master bedroom. He was asleep in all his clothing, having failed to even remove his leather jacket. Gazing down at the slightly flushed face he reached a hand to brush lightly at the loose strands of hair falling across the damp forehead. Vin stirred but didn't awaken.Chris turned at the sound of the voice behind him.
"He asleep?" Rain quietly crept in to stand beside Chris. She, too, looked down at the sleeping man.
"Hey Rain. Guess he's got some kinda flu, Nathan said. Funny, Vin never mentioned it on the phone. Should just let him sleep some, check back in a little bit. Help me take off his jacket, will ya?" Chris bent down to pull at one sleeve then rolled Vin slightly onto his stomach to ease the rest of the coat off. Vin mumbled softly, remaining asleep. Rain grabbed the other sleeve freeing the coat. She placed a hand against the pale forehead and frowned.
"Something wrong, Rain?" Chris wasn't overly concerned, the flu was going around the federal offices downtown. But he didn't like the way Rain was studying the man on the bed.
"You have any idea of Vin's medical history?"
"Some, why? You think he's got something besides the flu?" Chris gave her a worried look.
"Maybe... just a thought. I'd like to examine him first, then I'll know. Wait 'til he wakes up, though, no use in doing it until then, he can use the sleep, I'm sure."
Chris removed Vin's boots and placed a light throw over him. He shut off the light and the pair left the room.
"Tell me Rain, what are you thinking?"
"Oh, I don't know for sure, Chris, probably nothing. I'd like to check him out though," she replied, walking back toward the kitchen.
"What kind of nothing? Rain? Rain? Wait..." Chris hurried after the mumbling woman, not at all sure he liked the tone in her voice. Not the flu, medical history...this was NOT sounding promising.
+ + + + + + +
Vin woke to find himself bathed in a light sweat. His clothing clung to him and he sat up, throwing aside the blanket. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands and head hanging limply and wondered exactly when he'd started to feel this miserable. What time was it? He remembered shuffling into the bedroom and lying down and that was it until the stifling heat of the room awakened him. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he scratched lightly at the back of his neck. His skin felt like sandpaper: dry and coarse and itchy. Guess that plane ride really dehyrdrated him, he felt like he could drink a gallon of water.
He scratched again, this time reaching an arm around and attacking his back. Goddamn itching was right in the hardest spot to reach, center of the back. He squirmed, then flopped back on the bed and was still squirming when the door opened and Buck and JD walked in.
"Hey there, Junior. See JD, told ya he'd be up. How're ya feelin'?" Buck's voice broke sharply through the darkness and Vin winced at the booming volume. God, even his ears ached.
"Hey Buck, JD," he said softly, scooting up on the bed, the slight movement irritating the nerve endings in his back and once again, he reached around to scratch over his shirt.
Just as he felt the urge to rake his fingers hard over his burning flesh, the door opened again and Chris and Rain entered, followed by Nathan. Josiah stood by the doorframe, his large form half-in as he leaned on the wood.
"Vin, how're you doing?" Chris sat on the edge of the bed next to the younger man. Vin glanced at all the faces surrounding him. What th' hell?
"What? Nothin' on tv t' interest no one? No good pay-per-view, Buck? What th' hell y'all doin' in here, starin' at me? I got the flu, ain't nothin' excitin' 'bout that." Vin was feeling somewhat annoyed at the unexpected attention. He really just wanted to be left alone, just wanted to slather himself, no, strike that, have Chris slather him in some kind of lotion and go back to sleep. He rubbed again at the base of his neck. Damned dry skin.
Rain frowned, watching the young man scratching at his neck. She came forward, sitting on the bed next to Chris and reached a hand out toward Vin's forehead. He flinched back as her hand brushed his head.
"It's okay Vin, I just want to see how your fever is doing. You are a little more flushed than earlier, would you mind if I look you over, make sure you're okay?" Rain knew there was no love loss between Vin and the medical profession. Vin looked warily at her, then at Chris.
What th' hell was goin' on?
"It's okay, Vin. Rain here, thinks you might got somethin' other than the flu, is all," Buck offered.
She nodded and reached to unbutton his shirt. He looked up then, and frowned, "Y'all gotta stand there? Can't ya find nothin' better t'do?"
Chris and Rain remained seated while the others filed back out into the hall. They stood quietly by the door and listened to the conversation.
"So Vin, you feel like you have the flu? I see you keep scratching, is your skin bothering you?""Yeah, guess so. Kinda dry, itches some. Mainly, though, I just feel real run down and tired. Like I said, the flu," he replied, a definite note of irritation evident in the tone. He glared somewhat at Chris as the other man started to ease the shirt off his shoulders.
"What're you giving me the evil eye for, Vin? I haven't seen you since ya got back, ya snuck in here first, didn't even bother to tell me you were feeling poorly and now you're going to give me dirty looks?" Chris grinned at the younger man watching the glare fall from the handsome features.
"Sorry, Chris, jus' ain't feelin' too good."
"Okay, Vin. Just let Rain here get a look at you then we'll leave you alone, you can go on back to sleep. So Rain, what's the prognosis? He gonna live or what?"
Chris watched as Rain eased the flannel shirt from Vin's arms, then frowned at her expression as she sat behind the young man. She was studying his upper back, then glanced up and caught Chris's eyes. She smiled.
"Okay, you can put your shirt on if you want, though you might want something a bit softer. Tee shirt, maybe? I'm gonna get a few things from the kitchen, be right back."
Chris jumped up as she started to leave the room. He caught her shoulder and pressed her to stop. Vin watched from the bed, then assuredly stated, "Got the flu. Told ya Chris, got the flu 's all."
Rain turned to face him, "Well no, not...exactly, Vin."
"Then what, exactly?" Chris stepped closer, waiting for the answer.
"Well...chicken pox."
A whoop of laughter sounded from the hall followed by several shushing noises.
"Chicken pox?" Chris said slowly, turning to look at the man on the bed.
"Uhh, ain't that a kid's disease?" Vin questioned softly, eyes wide.
"Well, most people do acquire it during early childhood, and nowadays, there's a vaccine against it that children may receive as babies. But it can affect anyone who has never been exposed, regardless of age," Rain explained.
"Chicken pox?" Chris repeated. God.
"See, Vin, apparently you were exposed when you baby sat for Ms. Figueroa's children a week or so ago. I saw them in the clinic for their follow-up visit and now you have all the signs. The timing's right, so, I'd say this is it: chicken pox."
"Geeze. Never thought that'd be somethin' t' worry 'bout."
"Listen, I'm going to go get a few things from the kitchen, Vin. You may want to change, get more comfortable and I'll return to explain what you can expect for the next week or so. Be back in a minute."
Chris stared at Vin, couldn't tear his eyes away from the flushed face, "Chicken pox?"
"Will you stop saying that? 'S bad 'nough I got it, don't need you repeatin' it every two seconds. Shit, I'm itchin' more already. Goddamn, how's this happen, anyway? I really thought y' could only get it if ya were a kid."
Buck strolled in from the hall, barely able to contain the smirk that pulled at his mouth.
"So, Junior? Got the pox?" his smile broadened and laughter burst forth.
"Ain't funny, Bucklin."
"Ooh, I don't know...just th' thought...it's a little funny, don't ya think? Y'now Vin, it really ain't gonna be all that bad, I mean, ya get t' eat ice cream every day. Be kinda fun."
"No, Buck, that's when you get your tonsils removed. Not chicken pox," JD rolled his eyes as he followed Buck and Nathan into the bedroom. Josiah leaned in against the doorframe.
JD stared at Vin until he noticed Vin noticing.
"What, JD?"
"Uh, nothin'. Nothin', sorry," he said, trying to control his grin.
"What? Y' got something on yer mind, say it. I know I ain't heard th' end of this so's might as well say what ya gotta say, get it over with. You, too, Buck. I can tell yer just 'bout t' bust a gut with something ya think's just so damn funny, 'n thank God Ezra ain't here yet...so, go 'head, let 'er rip."
"Now, Vin. Me 'n' JD ain't gonna abuse you while you're so ill. We'll at least wait for Ezra t' get here, ain't that right JD? Never let it be said that ol' Buck ain't a compassionate, caring soul. Anyways, that'll give me lots a time t' think up some real good ones, y'now the kind that're just itchin' t' -OOOOPs, did I say itch? Sorry, Junior, forgot. Don't know what come over me, let me sit here 'n think, scratch m' head an'-OH NO, did I just say 'scratch'? OOOOPs, again, I -"
"Yeah, Buck, you're a real compassionate somethin', anyways," Vin sighed, he was feeling tired and more than a little out-of-sorts. And his skin was starting to itch more just thinking about what was to come. Chicken pox, geeze, how come these things were always happening to him?
Chris was silent, shaking his head, staring at Vin. Chicken pox. Damn. How come these things were always happening to Vin?
+ + + + + + +
Rain returned after Chris helped Vin change into a tee-shirt and sweatpants. She shooed everyone out of the room and sat on the bed next to Vin to explain the items she held in her hands.
"Now, the best thing to relieve the itching that's coming is to take a bath with baking soda. Just sprinkle some in and soak, it'll make you feel better. You can also put on calamine lotion which may help alleviate the discomfort. I expect you to have a low-grade fever, take acetaminophen if it gets too uncomfortable.
"Basically, it will come in waves. You already have some vesicles appearing on your back, more look like they're going to show up tonight on your chest and, well, eventually it could cover pretty much all of you, sorry to say. But it shouldn't be that bad, you're young and healthy and I don't think you'll have any complications, especially if you fill this prescription for acyclovir I'm going to write for you. It's a medication that is one of the few actually successful in killing a virus. Take it and it'll certainly lessen the discomfort, will actually make the sores less severe and less in number. But, Vin, you have to actually swallow the medication for it to be useful. Remember that. Holding the pills in your hand before flushing them away will not help you get better. I'm on to you, y'now."
Vin glared at Chris as the words were spoken. Chris ignored him, "Go on Dr. Jackson, what else?"
"In the meantime, use the items here and try not to scratch. Really, I mean that. Trim your nails, that'll help keep out infection and that's important, Vin. If any look like they're becoming infected, wash them well and apply some anti-bacterial cream couple times a day. Like I said, take the meds; the vesicles that appear will be less in number and severity, and then they'll crust over and eventually fall off themselves. You'll be good as new in no time. Really."
A voice from the hall sounded, "Ewwww."
"Go 'way, Buck," Chris yelled.
Vin stared at the young woman, shaking his head, only half of what she'd said had registered. Geeze, chicken pox. He scratched at his chest then found his hand pulled away by another.
"Rain said no scratching," Chris admonished as he pulled Vin's hand from his chest. "So Rain, it's really no big deal then, right? Chicken pox in adults?"
"Well, it is more serious for adults and can be somewhat debilitating; complications can arise, pneumonia, for instance, and it's not uncommon for some people to be hospitalized. But, before you get worried, like I said, Vin's strong and in good health, I don't think he'll have a problem, other than being uncomfortable. Especially if he fills and adheres to the prescription. I do want to know if his fever goes up, though. Vin, if you get to feeling really ill, you call me, day or night. Okay?"
"Yeah, day or night, I'll call. Am I catchin'?"
"Oh, yeah, you've been contagious for a couple days. Pity those people you encountered in New York who may have never had it; they will now. Just stay away from anyone who isn't certain whether or not they've been exposed. I doubt you're going to feel well enough to be up and about though. Now, unless you have any more questions, I'm off to make a salad and I'll have Nathan do the steaks, too, Chris. Figure you want to help Vin try and get comfortable, he'll probably be feeling sore, tired and itchy. Really, Vin, use the baking soda, it will help. And no scratching."
She left the two men sitting on the bed. Chris still held Vin's hand, covering it with his own.
"So, how're you feelin'?""Sore, tired and Itchy. An' I ain't sure if it's 'cause she told me all that or 'cause I really am itchin'. Shit, Chris, I'm real sorry 'bout this, I'm gettin' chicken pox all over the bed."
Chris laughed, "You at all hungry? I could rustle up some broth."
Vin just glared at the man and shook his head no. "I ain't quite reached the broth stage as yet, yer worse than Nathan, Chris, I swear. Is there some law I don't know 'bout that says if yer sick, here, drink this yellow crap? It sure won't make ya feel no better, but here, yer sick, drink it anyway. 'Sides, don't got an appetite much right now, but when I do I ain't eatin' no broth. Think I'm gonna stay here a minute, in th' quiet, though. I'll come on out inna little bit."
"No, you just rest. There's no reason you need to be out with everyone else. I'll keep 'em from bothering you, just take it easy. So, your back still itching?"
"Well I'd say I'd forgot 'bout it, but seein's how ya just brought it up, hell yeah, I'm itchin'. Hey, find out if Buck's ever had chicken pox, then send him back in here 'gain, I'd like t' give him a good dose."
"Too late, Junior," Buck boomed, coming into the room. "I had my turn at it when I was a kid, y'now, like most normal folks, and if I hadn't, sharing that hotel room with you woulda given it to me for sure."
Chris stared at Buck, "You and Vin shared a hotel room? I thought you each had a reservation. Damn Vin, you just don't tell me anything."
Vin groaned and flopped back into the pillows behind him. He reached around his shoulder, scratching lightly at his back. Again, a hand grasped his wrist and pulled forward. He glared up into Buck's blue eyes smiling merrily down at him.
"None o' that, now. You don't wanna make it worse."
"It gettin' worse already?" JD asked, entering the room. "Geeze, Vin, don't scratch. Y' get scars. I should know, I got two here on my face from when I had chicken pox as a kid."
"Scars? I never noticed y' got scars, lemme see Kid." Buck dropped Vin's hand and leaned down to inspect JD's face. "Where? I don't see nothin'."
"Here, in my eyebrow and by my ear. Look, see where my finger is? Right there," JD pulled his hair away from his ear as Buck peered at the area.
"Well, y' got all o' that hair t' cover that one. Hey Vin, you shouldn't worry 'bout a thing, y' got more hair 'n JD, just make sure any scratchin' you do's by yer ears," Buck chuckled, then pulled at the collar of his polo shirt. "Hell, JD, them scars 're hardly visible, looky at this, though." He bent over, exposing his neck. Three small, round scars sat in a row. "Pretty good scratchin' there ...and look at this one." He pulled up his shirt to reveal a large round scar at his waist.
Chris shook his head, "That ain't from chicken pox, Buck, that's from when you got shot last year"
"It is? Oh. So it is. Guess yer right. I knew that...just figured I'd try an impress..."
Vin rolled his eyes, then shut them against the conversation. Tuning out his friends, he tried to relax and ignore the burning feeling of his flesh. He sighed heavily as his eyes closed, Buck's voice faintly touching his ears as fell into a light sleep.
"That's nothin' JD. Here, now this was an appendectomy..."
+ + + + + + +
Vin slept most of the evening, waking once to relieve himself and gulp down a large glass of ice water. When he next awakened, it was to his fingers clawing at his own neck and he wondered how his skin could be tingling with both agony and relief. He scratched harder.
Hurts soooo good.
He rolled slightly to his right, seeking the green readout from the clock's light. 2 a.m. Shifting again, he listened quietly to the steady breathing of Chris sleeping beside him. His fingers continued their onslaught on his neck, raking down onto his chest as well and he had to mentally will himself to stop the brutal attack. Without even realizing it, he'd scratched himself bloody, and he carefully eased off the bed and into the bathroom.
Closing the door, he flipped the switch then winced as the bright light assaulted his eyes. He turned on the cold water, bent down and splashed his face and neck with the cool liquid. His reflection peered out from the mirror and he was less than stunned to find his face and neck sporting new spots. He gently toweled off, first patting lightly then rubbing harder and harder with the soft fabric until his flesh ached from the friction. Easing his tee shirt off, he stood in front of the mirror, again staring at his image. Tiny red welts had sprouted sporadically over his arms, chest and stomach. With a shaky hand he drew out his sweatpants, mouthing a silent prayer before looking down.
Chris roused from sleep hearing a groan emanating from the bathroom and stretched a hand to the place beside him. The sheets were damp with sweat. He rose, padding quietly to the bathroom door and softly called out.
"You okay in there, Vin?" He waited a beat, then opened the door. Bright light blinded him momentarily, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to find Vin seated on the toilet's lid, head down and hands buried in his thick, long hair.
"Y'okay, Vin?" Chris repeated softly, stepping closer to the seated figure. Vin raised his head, looking a little bleary as he answered. He looked somewhat polka-dotted.
"They're...there."
"Who's there, where?" Vin didn't answer. Chris placed a hand on the sweaty forehead, the fever remained but didn't seem any higher. "I'll help get you back to bed in a minute. Just sit here, I'm gonna change the sheets real quick, you've sweated through the others."
Again Vin didn't respond, just sat staring at the floor. Chris knelt in front of the sick man, resting a hand on his thigh.
"Y'now, tonight and tomorrow should be the worst of it. Once that medication kicks in you'll feel a whole lot better, you'll see. Sure was convenient to have Rain be able to call it in before the pharmacy closed. I'll go get it first thing in the morning, okay?" He brushed away an errant lock of hair from the flushed face.
"Yeah...God, Chris. They're there."
"Who, Vin? Who is there?" Chris asked again.
Vin looked at him, then slowly stood. He closed his eyes as he unlaced the tie holding his pants letting them drop to the floor. Chris stared. Oh God.
"Oh God," he said, suddenly understanding. He stood up and started to wrap his arms around the slender body, then reconsidered.
"Damn Vin. I'm not even sure my hugging you won't cause you more misery."
"Feel like shit, Chris," Vin said, bending to retrieve his fallen sweatpants. "An' the itchin's 'bout drivin' me nuts."
"Yeah, I see your neck's bleeding. You just can't scratch, Vin, it'll just make it worse."
Vin glared up at him, "I got 'em on my dick, Chris. How much worse y' thinkin' it can get?"
"Sorry. Listen, why don't I run a bath, you can soak in that baking soda Rain suggested. Make you feel somewhat better, then I'll rub that calamine over you, too. If anything, it'll make me feel better bein' able to touch you."
Vin sighed, nodding his head. Couldn't make anything worse and he sure wouldn't mind Chris touching him, if only it wouldn't itch. He resumed his seat and waited for the water to fill, then dropped his pants and stepped into the warm bath. He drew his knees up and let his chin rest there, arms wrapped around each leg.
Chris returned, "I've changed the bedding. All nice and fresh for when you get done here." He sat down on the floor, leaning against the tub. "How's it feel, better?"
"Guess," Vin mumbled, then leaned back against the sloped edge of the tub. He started when the jets turned on, surprising him.
"That okay, I turned on the jacuzzi?"
Vin couldn't decide whether his skin felt better or worse from the bubbling water, but nodded anyway. He sighed, closing his eyes as Chris trailed a warm washcloth over his chest. Initially the terrycloth felt wonderful, but then he yanked the washcloth out of Chris's hands as his sensitive skin started to protest the action.
"'S okay, Chris. Ya don't gotta sit in here with me. It's late, why don't you go back t' bed...I'm just gonna soak little bit, then I'll come in."
"Well, if you're sure, I am tired. Don't stay in here too long, I still want to get some of that lotion onto your skin."
Vin nodded again and tried to relax back into the warm bath. Rain was right, the baking soda was somewhat soothing and he slipped a little further down into the water.
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