ELEVEN
The air inside Vin's apartment hung stale and thick with the smell of dried blood. Buck's eyes took in everything - the gouges on the door frame, the ransacked frontroom, the blood on the carpet... Like Chris, he followed those footprints to the bathroom. He told Chris repeatedly on the drive over that he'd seen plenty of grisly crime scenes in his time on the force; Vin was still alive, this one couldn't be that bad. So Chris hung back and let Buck look where he would."God almighty." It sounded nearly like a prayer, the way Buck said it as he opened the bathroom door. So much blood. Before taking another step, he pulled a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket and snapped them on. "Has Vin told you anything?" he asked over his shoulder. "Like who, or how many, or why?" Buck had to disconnect the sight of the blood from the realization that it had come from his friend.
"Nothing. All he'll say is he fell." Chris walked close enough to the little room to be heard by Buck and no farther. Buck looked at everything, gingerly opened the shattered medicine chest, peered under the sink and behind the toilet. Then he lifted the wastebasket to check its contents.
"Oh damn..." He turned to Chris, still standing outside the door. "There's used condoms in here. Damn." It only took a second for Buck to realize that Chris wasn't asking what he was getting at - and that he didn't seem surprised at all, standing there with his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets. "You knew, didn't you Chris?" Buck's voice was mild at first. "You knew what happened to him." When Chris didn't answer, Buck got a little more insistent. "Didn't you?"
"I suspected," Chris shot back. "Not at first. Not till we left Nathan's and I brought him back here to get some clothes to stay at my house." Not till I saw him sitting there crying. "Not till I saw the blood and the handprints and knew he'd been lying to me about falling."
Buck set the basket back where it belonged and gave another close look around the bathroom. "What are we going to do here Chris?" he asked. "Have I got a crime scene I need to secure, or is this just a housekeeping emergency at a friend's apartment?" Chris held his answer a few long moments.
"I don't know."
+ + + + + + +
"...deliver us from evil..." Vin came awake with a prayer as thunder rolled away from the little house. He was still on the couch, covered with a blanket. For the briefest second, he couldn't remember where he was or why, then it rolled over him like waves, and he squeezed his eyes even tighter closed than they were. Maybe if he didn't move, it would go away. Maybe if he held his breath and didn't move, he wouldn't drown in it. He held himself still, praying that the pain and nausea wouldn't come back. Behind him, he heard Chris flipping a page of computer printouts, heard him slide the stack of papers to the floor, stand up and stretch, and walk out to the kitchen.
When he was gone into the kitchen, Vin gently turned himself onto his back. It hurt - he'd have to take some painkillers, maybe a handful or so. Maybe he could eat something again. What time was it? Dark - dark and raining outside. The house was quiet so the guys must be gone. He didn't hear Billy or Cowboy or Mary...must be late. He looked around, but the VCR clock was too far away to make out without trying. He needed to get up though, and he pulled the blanket back and carefully propelled himself to his feet and headed into the kitchen. Chris stood at the counter, making tea. He looked up briefly. "Hey - how're you feeling?"
"I don't know," Vin said. His voice was dull. He got himself a glass of water and downed a couple of painkillers. "Gotta use the bathroom."
"Think you can find your way?"
"I'll send up a flare if I can't."
Larabee's downstairs half bathroom was a tiny affair, still Vin stopped at the doorway, switched on the light, and took a good look before stepping inside and shutting the door. The bathroom was clean, he didn't remember leaving it clean when he'd been sick in here today. He shook his head at the trouble he was causing his friends. All the work and worry. He sure didn't mean to be causing it - tomorrow he'd go back home to his apartment. He had to start cleaning the place up. Make it livable again. Tomorrow he'd start thinking again about what had happened and what he had to do about it. He walked back through the kitchen, aiming for the couch and more sleep. Chris was still at the counter, pouring tea into two cups. "Think you could eat something?" he asked. Vin saw the bowl of fruit next to the fridge. "Can I make myself a banana and milk?"
"Sure, I'll do it for you."
"...'kay...put a lotta sugar in it."
"Lotta sugar ain't good for you," Chris said, as he handed Vin a cup of tea.
"Lotta things ain't good for me," Vin mumbled and went back to his bed on the couch.
Chris awkwardly carried a cup of tea and two bowls into the family room. "Sounded good," he said as Vin took the one bowl from him. "Made some for myself." He sat in the recliner and set his tea on the floor. "Slept a while," he offered. "Six or seven hours."
"Don't feel like it," Vin said. He took a cautious swallow of milk and banana. It stayed down so he ate some more.
"Well, you'll be able to sleep the rest of the night then."
"Yeah..." A few more swallows stayed confidently in his stomach. "How's that problem at school coming? The guys help you figure it out?" His voice was soft, but he was genuinely interested. Chris kind of shrugged, kind of shook his head.
"Yes, no. Some big time embezzlement goin' on there. Figure the head of Fiscal Services is involved."
"Royal?"
"Yep, Guy Royal. Got a lotta evidence pointing to him, and we both know that James is too stupid to pull this off himself...I think we only found the tip of the iceberg. But I'm willing to bet that Lucas James is finished at St. Michael's."
"Thank God," Vin said. Just knowing that made his back hurt a little less. "If Gloria doesn't know already, can I tell her? It'll sure make her happy."
"Sure. As soon as it can be made public, you go right ahead...she must be a good lady, you care about her like that."
"She is a good lady. I've gone to her house to fix things for her, busted lamp or her car won't start, dryer blew a fuse. She gives me dinner, sends me home with food. She is a real nice lady. It'll be nice to see her smile again." Talking about Gloria Potter brought another woman to mind. "Nettie - I was supposed to call her, let her know what's going on." He couldn't risk that she'd take it into her head to have a look at his apartment.
"She called, Mary told her you were sleeping and you'd call her tomorrow."
"Ohh - okay." That settled him a little.
+ + + + + + +
"Finished?" Chris asked a few minutes later, when he saw that Vin was done. "I'll take your bowl and cup out to the sink."
"Thanks." Vin handed them over.
"You want to sleep on the couch, or in the bed upstairs?"
"Umm..." Vin considered the choices. "Upstairs."
"Okay..." When Chris came back into the room, Vin stood up and started to walk toward the front hallway and the stairs going upstairs. Chris shadowed him, reaching out a few times to put a steadying hand on Vin's arm or shoulder. By the time they reached the stairs, Vin was clearly worn out and Chris guided him to have a seat on the bottom step. "Here, catch your breath. I'll shut off the lights and check the doors."
"Okay." Vin gladly accepted the rest, and leaned against the wall. As he sat there, hearing Chris moving around the house, he felt a calmness inside, a security in knowing that Chris was looking out for him. Sitting there, in diffuse pain physically and emotionally, Vin decided that he could tell Chris what happened. Chris knew he'd been beat up, but Vin wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to tell him now, tonight, so that tomorrow morning he couild wake up and be starting fresh.
"Everything's locked up tight," Chris said. "Ready to start up again?"
"There's something I got to tell you Chris," Vin said.
"Okay," Chris answered slowly. The stairs weren't wide enough to sit next to Vin and let him have space, so Chris crouched down in front of him.
"I got to tell you what happened to me...what happened...in my bathroom." He dropped his eyes. This wasn't going to be easy.
"Vin - you don't have to tell me anything."
"No - I want you to know - I want to tell you - - what happened." Here Vin's courage failed. He couldn't form or find the words, not gentle, easy words. The only words to be used were harsh, unrelenting words that Vin couldn't make himself say. He stammered a few times, and Chris reached out again and put a strong, reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"There's nothing you have to tell me Vin. There's nothing I need to know. You just come upstairs and get some rest."
The feeling of safety and warmth from Chris touching him made Vin reconsider. If he told Chris everything, probably Chris would never touch him again. Never want to be anywhere near him, ever again. He was about to say 'okay' and leave it at that - what Chris didn't know wouldn't hurt Vin. But Chris said:
"I know what happened to you Vin."
"I got beat up." Maybe he could just leave it there.
"I know Vin. And I know what else they did to you."
That was just plain absurdity and Vin said so. "No, you don't know." What in the world could Chris think he knew? "Nobody knows."
"I know Vin," Chris said again, and panic began to rise in Vin. Did he know?
"No, you don't know." He didn't know, did he? Vin tried to remember any conversation they'd had at the clinic, or on the way home, or at his apartment. Chris couldn't know. Vin knew he hadn't said anything. Nathan and Rain wouldn't say anything. Chris couldn't know.
"I do know Vin," Chris said one more time, and was surprised when Vin stood up abruptly and took a few steps into the hallway.Chris stood as well, and turned to face him.
"No, you don't know." The panic ran full force through Vin. "I don't know what you're talking about. Nothing happened. You don't know what happened." Vin backed away from Chris a step or two at a time.
"Vin..." Chris kept his voice low and calm. "I know they forced themselves on you." It had to be said, and Chris said it.
"No."
"I know they broke into your apartment when you were taking a shower and they beat you till you couldn't fight back..."
"NO..." Vin's voice was weaker. Chris didn't know, something told Vin that Chris couldn't know. If he told Chris what that was, then he'd have to admit that he didn't know. "You don't know. Don't you see? If you really knew what they did, you wouldn't touch me, you wouldn't stand near me..." As Vin talked, Chris closed the distance between them, till he was only a few inches away. "...you wouldn't let me sleep on your couch or use your towels..."
"Vin -" Chris moved to put his hand on Vin's shoulder but Vin roughly brushed him off.
"NO! GOD PLEASE, YOU DON"T KNOW!" Vin shouted, and he stared at Chris, panicked and desperate, pressed against the inside of the front door. Tears filled his eyes. If Chris already knew - how long had he known? How could he know and still treat Vin like a friend?
"Vin - I know," Chris said again, still in a low, calm voice. Vin began to sink slowly down to the floor. "I know they hurt you, I know they forced you. I know that if I ever get my hands on them I'll make them wish their parents hadn't been born." He reached out again, and Vin let Chris steady him till he was sitting on the floor in front of the door.
"I tried to stop them," Vin said. His voice was small and pained, wavering on the edge of tears.
"I know."
"They kept kicking me. Everytime I tried to move, they'd kick me till I didn't move...I tried to get away. Once I almost got through the bathroom door but they dragged me back in...they said they were gonna kill me..."
"It's okay Vin, you're safe here. They can't hurt you." Chris knelt in front of Vin. If it would help Vin to get it all out, then Chris would be there for it all.
"They said if I told anybody, they'd come back. They said said they'd do worse to me if I told anybody." His body shook and he scrubbed his shirt sleeve across his eyes. "I just wanted it to stop. I wasn't gonna tell anybody. I just wanted 'em to stop hurting me." Vin squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn't stop the tears that ran down his face.
Chris heard a noise behind him and turned to see Billy standing on the landing of the staircase, staring at Vin. In a second, Mary was there, quietly pulling him back to his room. Vin didn't notice a thing.
"They slammed my head into the mirror so hard, I thought they busted my skull. I just...wanted...them...to stop." He choked the words out on a sobbing breath. "God, it hurt so bad." He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth, crying hard with all the things he'd been trying to hide. "All the blood, and they just kept laughing at me...God...God...God...why did they do that to me?" Words failed him then, nothing left but tears, and the raw pain and humiliation, the certainty that Chris would abandon him too.
Chris had never seen Vin so broken and vulnerable. Sitting on the cold tile of a darkened hallway, crying so hard he couldn't catch his breath. It tore at Chris, the shame and pain and fear he knew Vin must be carrying.
"It's okay Vin, you're safe here." Chris put his arms around Vin and held him, shaking and sobbing, against himself. Vin's body still struggled to rock back and forth against the emotional anguish, so Chris gently followed, rocking him, softly repeating "...it's okay...you're safe..." as many times as it took.
Vin pressed himself into the security, ashamed of exposing himself to Chris like this, but desperately needing the comfort and reassurance, the physical closeness. If Chris could stand to touch him, maybe he wasn't as dirty as he thought he was. If Chris could hold onto him, maybe he could get all the pieces back the way they were before. Maybe his life wasn't over.
+ + + + + + +
Chris held on until Vin's crying eased, from sobbing to a hitched breath every once in awhile, until his breathing was shaky but regular, until his body tensed, and he pulled himself away. Chris let him go slowly, making sure he'd be steady on his own, keeping one hand on his back.
"Sh-sh-should go to bed I guess," Vin said. He didn't look at Chris. His body still shook and now his head pounded, almost in retaliation for the outburst. He pulled a sleeve over his hand and scrubbed the tears from his face. Chris didn't think Vin would be able to get anywhere by himself.
"Can you make it upstairs?" he asked. "I'll help you." And Vin nodded.Chris helped him to his feet and kept an arm around him to steady him and they made their way slowly up the staircase. The guest room had a bunk bed and Vin laid himself down on the lower bunk without even changing into pajamas. He turned on his side away from Chris, pulled as close to the wall as he could get. He kept telling himself '...tomorrow. I'll be able to deal with this tomorrow...' The headache and embarassement roared in his ears. '...just let me get to sleep...I don't have to think about anything if I'm asleep...' He felt Chris lay a blanket over him. 'Please God, just let me go to sleep...'
"You get some rest Vin," Chris told him. "I'll see you in the morning..."
"...'kay..."
Chris closed the door over and left the hall ligh on. He went into his own room and sat on the edge of the bed. Mary had been waiting up for an explanation, but one look at Chris and she knew she wasn't going to get one tonight. She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in her shoulder and held onto her a long time.
TWELVE
Morning took Vin by surprise. He woke up still facing the wall, with the blanket pulled tight around his shoulders. Warm, comfortable, and in no immediate pain, Vin didn't move at first, just took his bearings. Today was Sunday, he was pretty sure. He was in Chris and Mary's guest room, sleeping in his clothes. The only sound he could hear in the house was the muffled noise of television cartoons and an occasional burst of childish laughter. Billy must be awake and watching tv.Slowly Vin pulled the blanket away and stood up from the lower bunk. His back twinged and he felt in his shirt pocket to make sure his painkillers were still there. As he moved to the bedroom door, the other aches and pains throughout his body came to life - bruises, scratches, lacerations, his broken ribs and pounding head - and he shuffled stiffly the few feet down the hall to the bathroom.
As he turned to leave a few minutes later, he caught sight of himself in the long mirror. His eyes looked puffy from the night before, the bruises underneath them were beginning to mutate into browns and yellows, and he needed a shave. He lightly touched the stitches on the back of his head, ruffling his fingers through his hair. Finally, he undid his shirt, one button at a time, wanting but dreading to see the physical damage done to his body. The buttons came awkwardly, Vin held back, afraid that if he saw too much too soon, his gag reflex would kick in and end up driving his pain off the map.
When the shirt was completely unbuttoned, he pulled it first off one arm, then the other, trying not to look at his reflection. But then he looked. The worst bruises were on his legs, he knew. But his ribcage was a close second. Blue, purple, and red welts of various sizes and intensity covered him from collarbone down, and on both sides of his torso deep fingernail scratches ran from above his waist to his thigh.
He could hear them laughing now, laughing at his desperate attempts to get free, to keep from crying out. His first intincts had been to call for help, but that quickly changed to praying no one ever found out.
Well, Chris knew now, didn't he? Chris and Nathan and Rain. Vin guessed he'd be okay as long as nobody else ever found out. He could just tuck it away with everything else and his life would go on. Nobody else ever had to know.
He stared at his body a few minutes more then pulled his shirt back on. He wanted to take a shower, but he only had the clothes he was wearing, and he didn't want to put those back on after getting clean again. He checked the hamper and it was empty, so maybe Chris had washed his clothes like he said he would. Vin walked out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and down the stairs, resting his hand for support on the walls and handrailings. He felt a little light headed and shaky, probably from having hardly anything to eat all yesterday. But getting clean was more important than eating, it was more important than anything right now.
"Hey, how'd you sleep?" Chris's voice caught Vin off guard. He wasn't expecting to see Chris sitting on the floor of the family room, Billy in his lap, watching some cartoon or another.
"Okay...was gonna take a shower...wondered if my clothes were washed?" Billy gave a quick look over his Dad's shoulder. "Hi Vin!"
"Hey Billy," Vin answered softly.
"Yeah, I'll get 'em for you...here Billy, stand up so I -"
"No, I'll get 'em Chris. They're in the dryer?" He headed off through the family room, into the kitchen, and down the hallway where the washer and dryer sat, nearly opposite the little bathroom, near the back door. He kept mind of his aches and pains as he bent down to retrieve the laundry. What wasn't his he folded neatly and put in the empty clothes basket on top of the dryer. Towels mostly.
"You finding 'em?" Chris asked, coming into the hallway.
"Piece by piece, yeah. Mary do the wash?"
"I did the laundry," Chris said.
Vin nodded. "I guess that explains this..." He held up a mint green sock. One of his. It used to be white.
"Sorry..."
"Nah, I got lots of these at home, all colors..."
+ + + + + + +
Vin came back downstairs after his shower. Billy was gone out of the family room and he could hear Chris in the kitchen. He stopped in the front hallway though and stared at the floor where he'd broken down last night. Last night? Maybe this morning? He didn't know what time it'd been, when the house was dark and silent, strangely unfamiliar to Vin who'd spent a lot of time here over the few years he'd known Chris. Now the house was filled with daylight and sound - the tv still on in the family room though Billy was nowhere in sight, the dishwasher running in the kitchen, and Mary calling to Chris from the backdoor that she'd be back soon.
Just a normal Sunday morning in the Larabee house, just like any one of a dozen Sunday mornings Vin had spent here.
Yeah, right.
+ + + + + + +
Chris heard Vin come downstairs again. From where he stood at the kitchen counter, Chris could look over shoulder into the front hallway. He saw Vin stop at the front door and stare down at the black and white tile like he was trying to remember something. Last night had been hard on both of them, Vin for having to tell, and Chris for having to hear. He hoped, now that Vin knew that he knew, that Vin would have an easier time recovering, knowing that he didn't have to hide it from Chris at least.
Please God, don't let Vin think he has to hide anything from me...I had enough of that with Stephen...
As he thought of his brother-in-law, Chris's hand curled painfully around the handle of the knife he was using to slice up the banana. He tried to get his mind back to the present. He couldn't let himself get trapped in a past he couldn't change. He had to stay here and help Vin.
"That banana musta done somethin' all-fired bad to you, the way you're attackin' it." Vin's voice startled Chris.
"Didn't hear you come in."
"Guess not...you make one a'them for me?" Vin asked, nodding to the bananas and milk waiting on the counter, as he got a glass of water to take more painkillers.
"You bet. How're you feeling today?"
Vin took a deep breath to answer, but just shook his head. He was managing to stave off an emotional and psychological descent into hell, but how could he say that to Chris? He didn't trust his voice or his emotions to say that if Chris hadn't taken him in, he'd be a screaming wreck right now, barricaded inside his apartment, terrified of every sound and movement in his building. He knew he couldn't say that Chris knowing, and understanding, and still wanting to be his friend, was the only thing keeping him sane, when it would be so easy to slip off into silent, mindless, shock.
"Guess I'm a little better today."
They each took a bowl of bananas and milk out to the deck. The day wouldn't be nearly as hot as the previous week had been, the downpour yesterday had pushed most of the heat away. They ate for awhile in silence.
"Was figurin' on headin' back to my apartment today," Vin said, as he finished his breakfast. "Start gettin' cleaned up."
"We'll help you." It came out before Chris realized.
"We?" Vin didn't like the sound of that.
"Yeah...Buck and I..," Chris said. Vin let out a deep, exasperated sigh. "Vin - he's a cop, I wanted him to have a look at your place..."
"I didn't want anybody to know." But the circle just kept getting bigger.
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm worried about you."
"Yeah..." Vin roughly set his bowl on the deck beside him, and rested his head in his hands, the way he had at his apartment, shielding his eyes. Now Buck knew - the horror just wasn't going to stop, was it?
"Vin?" Chris had to tell him.
"What?" the voice came from behind the hands.
"Buck wants to come over and talk to you." Vin sat up abruptly, his eyes wide in obvious panic at the prospect. "You don't have to, if you don't want to," Chris hastened to reassure him. "And even if you do talk to him, doesn't mean you have to file a report or a complaint, or anything. He just wants to talk to you."
Vin could tell that Chris was being honest, he was sorry Buck had found out, and that he was worried about Vin. He sighed. "When does he wanna talk to me?"
THIRTEEN
Vin dreaded Buck's visit. He didn't want to talk about what happened. He'd told Nathan and Rain - well, not everything. They kept asking "...is that all...is there anything else...?" and Vin would silently lie each time they asked, shaking his head and saying nothing. But Chris - it felt to Vin that he told Chris everything even without hardly saying anything at all. But somehow that felt okay."What am I gonna do?" Vin whispered. He put his hand down and ran his fingers through Cowboy's fur. The black lab stretched where he lay against Vin's leg and thumped his tail heavily on the deck without lifting his head. "Lord, I hate this..." Sitting on Chris's back deck, every nerve on alert to hear the familiar rattle of Buck's truck pulling up the driveway. Cowboy sat up and leaned against Vin, wanting his ears scratched. Instead, Vin put his arms around the dog and rested his head against the scratchy fur. "I hate this."
+ + + + + + +
With the lights off in the family room, Chris could see through the opaque curtains over the sliding glass doors out to the deck where Vin seemed to be holding onto the dog for dear life. Even in the best circumstance, Vin kept himself physically distant from most people. When they went to lunch or dinner with the guys, Vin always sat at the end of the table, never between two people when he could help it. He kept a two or sometimes three foot buffer of air between himself and anybody he might be talking to.
Chris remembered the first time Vin introduced him to Nettie though, and how surprised he was when they were leaving her house and Vin willingly turned to her for a goodbye hug. It surprised Chris so much that he stared at Vin for awhile as they walked back to Vin's apartment. Now, Chris stared at Vin hugging Cowboy, amazed that the usually perpetually active dog sat there quietly, as though guarding the man who was literally resting all his trust and emotional need against him. He was torn between letting Vin deal with things the way he felt most comfortable, and going out to him to offer another choice.
Ten years ago, Chris never would've never thought of it. He grew up in a home where men didn't cry, or visibly suffer emotional pain, or ever ever need help. 'Maybe if I had...' he thought again, and again pushed it away. 'Wouldn't have mattered anyway...I tried the best I could but Stephen didn't want help...' Chris watched Vin turn his head up and let Cowboy lick his face. Ten years ago, hell even five years ago the most emotional support he would've been able to offer would probably have been a quick thump on the shoulder, or tickets to a football game. But he'd learned the hard way that life is too short to let pride have the last word.
+ + + + + + +
When Vin heard Chris coming back outside, he sat up from Cowboy, gritting his teeth against the stab of pain in his back, and used his sleeve to scrub his face clean of dog spit and tears. The dog stood up to take the old soup bone Chris offered him, and ran off into the yard to play with it. Chris sat down close to where Cowboy had been, a little closer than Vin was comfortable with, but with the railing behind him, he had nowhere else to go. He wondered what Chris wanted.
"How're you feeling?" Chris asked. He put a gentle hand on Vin's fractured spine. "You okay?" and Vin lost it. He thought he'd be done with the guilt and the fear and the crying, but here he was again. Not twelve hours after spilling his guts to Chris in the darkened front hallway, tears ran down his face again and his breath choked in his throat.
"Don't want to talk to Buck," he managed to say. His voice sounded high and broken to his ears.
"Don't have to." Chris slid his arm around Vin and held him.
"...please..." He struggled to pull in a breath.
"I'll tell him Vin..."
"Help me..." Vin had no idea what he wanted Chris to do.
"I'm right here..."
So they sat awhile on Chris's deck, Chris with his arm around Vin, and Vin trying as hard as he could to stop himself from crying and drowning in the emotional pain. "Wanna take a shower," he said after awhile.
"You had a shower this morning Vin, just a little while ago. You ain't dirty." He kept his voice soft and encouraging.
"I am. You don't know...I am..."
"You can tell me Vin...it'll help if you tell me."
"...can't..."
"Okay."
+ + + + + + +
Buck parked his truck behind Vin's and headed up the driveway. He heard voices from around behind the house and followed the brick path that way. Two voices, Chris and Vin - low and concerned, and high and uncertain. This was not a conversation that Buck wanted to interrupt. He slowed his steps as he came to the corner of the house and took a peek around. Vin sat huddled into himself on the top step of the deck, with Chris next to him, leaning close and keeping his arm around him.
Aw hell.
Buck knew this had to be hard for Vin. He'd spent all morning talking with a couple officers in Sex Offenses, not mentioning names or circumstances, but asking information on how to deal with this, what questions to ask, what reactions to look out for. He wasn't wanting to talk to Vin to get him to press charges, or name names, or to satisfy his natural cop's inquisitiveness. Buck mostly thought he could be a detached person that Vin could open up to. If he asked the right questions, and got the honest answers, it would at least be a few pieces of horror that Vin wouldn't have to carry by himself.
But not now. Vin looked to be in no shape to have that conversation now.
Chris saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Buck at the turn in the path. He caught Buck's eye and motioned with his head that he should come on. When he started walking their way, Chris turned back to Vin, who sat with his hands over his eyes.
"Buck's here." Chris felt him flinch. "I'll tell him you won't be talking with him, okay? Then we'll see what we want to do. If you're up to it, we can go to your apartment and help you start straightening up. Okay?" Vin nodded and wiped his eyes. When Chris stood up, he had to fight the urge to grab onto his arm and keep him right there beside him.
"How is he?" Buck asked when Chris was close enough.
"It's being rough on him...he doesn't want to talk to you now."
"Don't blame him. Can't says as I'm as ready to do any talkin' on the subject myself at the moment." He let out a sigh, watching Vin wipe at his face. "I'll still help you get his place cleaned up though...think he'd mind if I said hi?"
"Naah, come on."
+ + + + + + +
When Vin saw that Buck was coming toward him, he felt the sudden urge to hide, but he knew he'd never get anywhere in time. So he stayed where he was, with his eyes planted firmly on his stocking feet. Chris would tell Buck he didn't want to talk, so all Vin had to worry about was getting through the first few words that they'd say to each other. He knew it was self-pity, but he let his mind roll the words out anyway. The first words we'll say to each other since I was attacked. I haven't laid eyes on Buck since before I wasn't who I used to be...
+ + + + + + +
Buck didn't come too close, arm's length maybe. He crouched down in front of his friend. "Hey Vin." He wanted to sound casual, but he could hear the concern in his own voice. Then no other words came to him.
"Hey Buck," Vin answered without lifting his head. When Buck didn't say anything else, Vin became uneasy. Was he supposed to say something? What did Buck want? Thank the Lord, Chris sat down next to him again.
"I'm gonna put some tea on Vin. Think you could eat something?" Vin nodded and turned his head up to look at Chris. But Chris didn't know what he saw in Vin's eyes. Fear? Gratitude? "You want to come back inside? Or I can bring it out here."
The wind. Vin wanted to stay out in the air and the breeze because then anything that did get said would be blown off into all its little molecules and not build up inside the house like last night - or was it this morning? - would.
"Bring it out here?"
"Sure, I'll be right back." Chris stood up and Vin had to fight the urge again to grab his arm as he walked into the house. Cowboy came running over then, having just noticed Buck.
"Hey dog. Where you been hidin' yourself?" Buck scrubbed his fingers all up and down Cowboy's back, and the dog obliged by turning and twisting himself to make sure Buck got every last itchy spot. "Some watchdog you are." Then Cowboy jumped onto the deck, shook himself off as though he were wet, and flung himself down next to Vin again.
"You got dog biscuits or something I don't know about in your pocket?" Buck asked Vin. "Not often Cowboy deserts me you know." Vin finally looked at Buck, the barest hint of a smile turning up his mouth.
"Dog knows who his friends are. Can't be bribed with just biscuits..." The ice was broken, and Buck took Chris's vacated spot on the deck.
"How're you doin' Vin?"
"Don't know." They sat facing out into the yard. "Pretty much just takin' it one breath at a time." Vin looked over this shoulder into the house. He didn't know how to say it, but Buck could read it in his face.
"I'm glad he's taking care of you...he was spittin' nails yesterday."
"At my apartment?" Vin asked.
"Yeah...look Vin..." Buck figured he had to tell him. "Nothin' official, but I had a couple friends come to your place last night, dust for prints, take blood samples, and...evidence..." This set hard with Vin, more people, more strangers in his apartment, touching stuff that wasn't theirs, invading his space.
"What kind of evidence?" his voice was almost disinterested.
"Umm...the condoms they threw in you bathroom garbage can..." Buck was expecting a few reactions, but not the bitter laugh Vin tossed out.
"Couldn't get 'em for litterin' then? They'd do anything else on this green earth, but oh no, not litter..." Vin bent his head down and put his hands in his hair, curling his fingers painfully against his scalp.
"Vin?" Buck was a little worried that he'd said too much. "Nothin' official," he said again. "Just wanted to get it down 'fore we help you clean up." Vin nodded without lifting his head. "I also ran a check of any incidents in your neighborhood recently..." Vin nodded absently, not realizing where Buck was headed. "I had a talk with your neighbor Maria and her parents -" Vin's head came up at that.
"You stay away from her! She's got nothin' to do with this! Don't you go near her..." From his response, Buck had the answer to a lot of questions.
"Vin..." He kept his voice calm and even. "I didn't tell her what happened to you. I told her and her parents that somebody broke into your apartment and hurt you. It was the same three boys who tried to molest Maria, wasn't it?" Vin dropped his eyes, but didn't answer. "They had to be told about the danger Vin. You wouldn't want Maria wandering around all by herself, not knowing that they could become really violent. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
"No...," he had to admit.
"I'm sorry I didn't wait to ask your permission before collecting the evidence in your apartment Vin. Evidence degrades if you wait too long, didn't want to lose the chance before we knew whether or not you wanted to take it."
"Yeah..." Buck waited a little while, then was about to go into the house and help Chris, but Vin's soft question stopped him. "Am I the only one?"
"Only one what?"
"Only one this ever happened to?" The important part of the question remained unspoken. The only man this ever happened to?
"No Vin, not by a long shot. And I don't even mean what goes on in prisons. Out here in the free and clear real world. Happens all the time."
"Y'ever investigated one?"
"No, I never worked - that department." Buck couldn't bring himself to say 'Sex Offenses' to Vin. "But I know officers who do work there...I'll be honest Vin. It's probably one of the least reported crimes. Even when it happens to women, only 80% report the crime, 60% press charges, 40% get an arrest, and only 20% get a conviction. All the percentages are way lower when the victim is a man."
Victim
Buck saw Vin mouth the word. He hadn't meant to imply that's what he thought Vin was. "You're a survivor Vin. And I don't mean just your whole life. Once you stood up again and decided to live instead of die where they left you, you became a survivor. You survived, never forget that."
"Yeah..."
Another silence followed, but Buck stayed where he was, sensing that more was coming.
"Is it always the same?" Vin asked. "What happens? And why they do it? Is it because - did I do something that made them think - why did they do that?" His confusion, frustration and guilt was evident on his face. "Was it 'cause I was takin' a shower? Was it somethin' I did?"
"You know something Vin - it was because of something you did. It was because you defended little Maria from them. That's all. After that, they broke the law, they committed the crime. There wasn't anything you could do or not do, unless you could see into the future. It just happened, that's all."
"But why would they want to -" but he couldn't finish the sentence.
"They were out for revenge Vin. They attacked you. They committed a crime of violence against you. The more they could humiliate you, the less likely it would be that you'd report it. It happens a lot." Buck watched Vin paying attention to what he was saying. Maybe they could have that talk after all.
"You asked if it's always the same Vin - the attack. And yeah, basically, it is. The details may vary, but there's things that always seem to happen, in any attack like this."
"Things like what?"
"Anyway they can humiliate the person...like make them perform oral sex on them." He kept an eye on Vin's reaction.
"They tried," Vin said. "I told 'em, didn't care what they did to me, anything that went in my mouth was gonna get bit in half...that put 'em off a bit..."
"Good for you," Buck told him, daring to give him a solid tap on his shoulder.
"What else?" his voice shook, but he was desperate to know. Talking about it made it less scary somehow.
"They can make a person's body react so that it seems like - physically - they're enjoying it..," Buck said. Vin's face flushed dark, but he didn't say anything. "But it's just a physical reaction, and has nothing to do with what the person's wants."
"Do they ever - when it was over - and I thought they were leavin' - does anybody else - one of 'em came back in and - and -"
Buck knew what they'd found in Vin' bathroom. "They pissed on you, didn't they Vin?" He asked it as gently as he knew how.
Vin tried to nod, but the world got dark and loud, the horror screaming into his ears again, shattering him like glass. God, he was going to be sick again....
+ + + + + + +
Chris had stayed away while Buck talked with Vin. He stood in the family room, behind the opaque curtains, close enough to hear the conversation. When Vin started shouting about Maria, Chris almost went out to him, till he heard and saw Buck calm him down. Now, whatever Buck said that Chris wasn't able to catch had Vin putting his hands over his ears like he couldn't stand to hear anything else, and he bent over double, trying to keep from gagging. Chris went right out to him.
"Vin...what'd you say to him?" he demanded of Buck, who didn't answer, only stood up so that Chris could be next to Vin.
"Take - a - shower -" Vin insisted, begging, moving his hands to cover his mouth. "Please. Wanna take a shower."
"All right Vin." Chris put his arm around Vin again and held him. "I'll get you some clean clothes, you can take a shower."
"Now? Please?"
"Yep, right now." Chris helped Vin to his feet and guided him into the house, and sent him up to the shower while he went to fish some of his own clean clothes out of the laundry basket. Buck followed him. "What happened?" Chris asked and Buck gave him a fast run down of their conversation, including the last part.
"No wonder he feels dirty..," Chris said and shook his head. "This is his second shower this morning..."
"I didn't mean to upset him Chris...thought talkin' would help...it was the same one's pestered his neighbor, the little girl. No doubt about it..."
Chris shook his head again and brought the clothes upstairs to the bathroom, where Vin already had the hot water running in the shower.
"Thanks Chris." Vin saw that they weren't his clothes. "I'm sorry...I should go home. I shouldn't be here. Just causin' too much trouble..."
"You're right where you should be Vin. With friends who want to help you...you take a shower, then we'll go and help you clean your apartment. You're not alone Vin. Okay?"
Finally, Vin nodded. "Okay."
Comments to: sullivan_e2@yahoo.com