Silence never sounded so loud. It echoed around and around in Chris’ brain, making it nearly impossible for him to lift his head from where he cushioned it on his arms on the kitchen table. Just another minute he’d give it, another minute to wait for the motion sickness to subside and his eyes to feel like they’d stay in place and the beginnings of nausea to settle down. Then he’d be able to stand up and function again. Make some breakfast. Eat some breakfast. Keep an eye on Vin.Do some laundry.
He almost laughed, but it upset his stomach.
Another minute. He’d give it just another minute.
Vin watched Chris a little while. He wanted to do something to help him. Get him out of the kitchen and to the couch at least, but he didn’t think he was physically strong enough right now to do that if Chris couldn’t help. Maybe get him some more water, or Seven Up. Chris should lay down or throw up or something, Vin knew. He wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure what to do. Wasn’t sure that he could do anything.
He’d wait another minute, and if Chris didn’t move by then, he’d try somehow to get him to lay down on the couch.
Before the minute was up, the phone rang. At first Vin wasn’t going to answer it, then he had visions of Mary’s car breaking down or some equal catastrophe, and he walked the few paces to the wall phone.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
He pushed back rising panic and tried again, tried to sound stronger than he felt. "Hello?"
"Uhh - is Chris there?" and Vin let out one breath before taking in another.
JD.
He knew.
"He hasn’t come in yet and he didn’t call and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay because he never doesn’t call is he there?" JD exploded all on one breath.
He knew.
"He’s sick, gotta headache." Vin offered tentatively. JD knew - but what was he thinking?
"Oh."
And nothing.
"Oh." JD repeated after a few heartbeats of them listening to each other breathe. "So - you’re over there? With Chris?" It sounded like an accusation.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
And nothing.
"Nothing. Just - I didn’t think - I mean I woulda thought - I never thought -" This didn’t sound like the awkward stammering of anxious concern, and Vin began to get an idea what JD was thinking.
"Just spit it out JD." he snapped.
And nothing.
"Just tell Chris I called." JD snapped back and slammed his phone down. If Vin’d been at home, he would’ve been tempted to yank the phone from the wall and throw it out the closest window. But he wasn’t home and this wasn’t his phone, so he set it back on the cradle and looked down at Chris’ still-nearly-unconscious form.
"Nothing’s going to be fucking okay."
Buck cursed and muttered, muttered and cursed as he drove to Chris’ house. One short and blazing conversation with JD when Buck tried calling Chris as work had him pushing the speed limit all the way across town.
"Chris isn’t coming in to work today. I guess Vin is hiding out at his house." was all the JD managed to say before Buck laid into him six different ways.
"Of all the stupid, short-sighted, obnoxious things to say about a man who is a friend of yours. JD I swear I’d like to shake some sense into you -" But the tirade was cut short as JD hung up on him, and Buck was left to curse loudly to himself as he made the trip over to personally make sure Chris and Vin were okay.
He saw both trucks in the yard and Cowboy ran out to greet him as he pulled alongside of them. "Hey boy? Where is everybody? Are they around back?" He scrubbed the dog’s head and kept his ears open for any sound that anybody was outside. He followed the dog and narrow sidewalk back to the deck and the sliding glass doors. Still no sound, from inside or outside the house. Cowboy scratched at the doors to be let in and Buck gently pushed one open.
"Hey? Anybody home?" he called as he stepped into the family room. He heard the scrape of a kitchen chair, and feet across linoleum.
"Buck?" Vin’s question preceded him out of kitchen. "You supposed to be at work?"
"Came to see how you’re doing. JD told me Chris is sick?" At the mention of Dunne’s name, Buck saw a flush spread on Vin’s face. He knows that he knows. Buck thought. Seeing his friend standing there, pale and trembling, wearing Chris’ shirt like a safety blanket, kicked up every protective compassionate instinct Buck had inside of him. He rapidly made some decisions.
"He’s in the kitchen. Gotta real bad headache. Haven’t been able to do anything for him."
"How are you doing?" Buck asked as he followed Vin out to the kitchen.
"Okay I guess." and he gestured with his head toward Chris, who still had his head on his arms on the table. "Was gonna see if I could get him to the couch to lay down. He’ll get a stiff neck if he stays that way."
"I’ll take care of it." Buck assured him. "You have breakfast yet?" and Vin answered with a slight shake of his head. "Well, when I get Sleeping Beauty tucked away, why don’t you let me take you out and buy you some breakfast? Figure you must be gettin’ a little stir crazy spending all your time with Chris."
Actually, Buck thought Vin might just be hiding here, like JD said. What he really wanted to do was get Vin to see that the world hadn’t frozen shut or become wholly threatening. A nice drive, get some air - have a little talk - might help Vin get a grip on some of the realities he was going to have to face.
"What d’you say?" Buck prompted casually, when Vin didn’t answer. Finally, he nodded.
"Yeah, sure, okay." and Buck smiled.
"Great - just give me a minute with Sleepy and Grumpy here. HEY LARABEE." he shook his friend none too gently and yelled to him. "WAKE UP SO YOU CAN GO TO SLEEP." At first, the only answer to be heard was a god-awful moan coming from the prone body.
"...kill you Wilmington..." Chris finally managed to threaten, though his voice wasn’t steady. "...swear to God, I get this knife outta my skull, I’m gonna use it on you..."
"Big talk for a man who can’t lift his head. Now, come on." Buck put his hand under Chris’ arm and lifted him to his feet with an ease Vin knew he wouldn’t have been able to manage. "Get them feet moving Chris, don’t make me carry you..." and he propelled Chris to the couch in the family room.
Buck hadn’t been worried when JD told him Chris was sick - he figured that Chris was just taking a day or so to stay with Vin. Now, he was worried. It’d been years since Larabee’d had a headache so bad he couldn’t function - and those had all been traced back to stress over Stephen. If he was getting that stressed again over Vin - well, that just wasn’t a good sign.
Chris stopped just briefly as they passed Vin - "Hey..." - but Buck didn’t let him linger.
"Soon’s I tuck you in, me n’Vin are hitting the road for some grub." Buck informed Chris.
"Ugh - don’t mention food." Buck got Chris sitting on the couch, but he resisted further attempts to get him to lay down. "I’ll be okay." he insisted, with painful, bleary eyes. He added softly "You take care of him." and Buck nodded.
"You can count on it."
+ + + + + + +
Vin followed Buck outside half reluctantly, half gratefully. He hated to leave the safety of being indoors, but he realized - with no small amount of shame - that he didn’t feel exactly safe with Chris sick and sleeping.
"Think he’s gonna be okay?" he asked Buck, as they each climbed into Wilmington’s aging truck. "I didn’t know what to do - I couldn’t do anything for him."
"What d’you mean? What’d you do?"
"I just -" Vin tried to remember. "...gave him a couple of my painkillers, answered the phone when it rang. Just sat there with him."
"Sounds to me like you did a hell of a lot." Buck assured him. "He’ll be fine. Just let him sleep it off." He started up the truck and backed out of the driveway. "What do you think? Drive through McDonalds and find a nice place to park by the canal?"
"Sure."
Buck kept up the conversation, asking questions Vin didn’t mind answering, though it seemed like he was making his way to some painful ones.
"How you been sleeping?"
"Okay. Think the painillers knock me out."
"Getting any nightmares?"
"Not yet." Vin shook his head.
"Well, I hope you don’t get any Vin, but I expect that you will. Not just when you’re sleeping either."
"I know. Been lucky so far." Really, Vin figured he was still in shock. Once his system caught it’s theoretical breath, he figured he was in for a hell of a ride. "Been feeling safe at Chris’ house. Can’t keep myself safety pinned to him the rest of my life though." He thought about it a minute.
"JD knows?" he asked Buck, though Chris had already told him.
"Yeah he does."
"He blames me, doesn’t he? Thinks it’s my fault?"
"Yeah." Buck answered with a long breath. "Don’t know why exactly, but yeah."
"What about Ezra? What does he think?" and the silence that answered told him everything. "Nettie probably hates me."
"Why do you say that?" Buck had to ask.
"Because, if she didn’t, she woulda called by now. She woulda made sure I’m okay. You know how she is. Chris is trying to tell me everything’ll be all right. Sure don’t feel like it." His voice was strained, he could hear it. Holding onto the last shred of strength he had.
"Everything will be okay Vin. It’ll take time - and yeah, you’ll probably go through hell in the meantime. But it will be okay."
And Vin nodded, knowing he heard the truth in Buck’s statement. "Okay."
TWENTY-EIGHT
Ezra sat at his desk, staring at the screensaver of dice and playing cards tumbling across his computer screen. If anyone asked, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them exactly what was going through his mind. Nothing maybe. No concrete images certainly. Just - abhorrence? Repugnance? What was it that he was feeling so acutely he couldn’t summon the concentration necessary to log himself onto his computer?It’d only been a matter of days since he’d seen Vin last. Thursday, wasn’t it? Ezra had been heading for home. Passing Vin on the University Green, they exchanged pleasantries before going their separate ways. "You drive safe now Ezra." was the last thing Vin said.
That was the last thing Vin always said.
Suddenly, Ezra’s mind was burdened with a dozen details of Vin’s thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit. Vin was the one who remembered that Ezra didn’t like too much ice in his ice water. He was the one who remembered birthdays and special anniversaries and favorite odd holidays with a card or verbal greeting. If someone’s car was out of commission, Vin was always the first to offer a ride to work or home, or anywhere. He was always the first with a joke, a napkin, a hand, a shoulder.
Yet, at this very moment, Ezra knew that if he never saw Vin again, it would be too soon.
+ + + + + + +
The pseudo-rural countryside around Chris’ land quickly disappeared as Buck turned his truck down a few side roads and onto the main drag of town. Car dealerships, fast food restaurants, strip malls and trailer parks lined the four lane highway on either side.
"Seems like it’s gonna be another hot day." Buck said.
"Yeah." Vin answered absently. His mind was off elsewhere, thinking. He’d known Chris three years now, and Buck nearly as long, less a week or so. At first their only connection was through Chris. Even now, when they seemed to have developed their own friendship, sometimes it seemed that Chris was the only thing they had in common. Vin wondered how he’d come to find himself sitting in the front seat of Buck’s truck, on their way to breakfast, hard on the heels of a brutal nightmare.
"Not gettin’ any greener." Buck muttered to the slow driver at the signal in front of them. "Hey -" he directed at Vin, when traffic moved again. "You want me to check your mail for you? I can swing by after work this afternoon."
"Okay...thanks...Chris’s still got my keys..." Vin wanted to ask Buck why he was doing all this, what he wanted, why he cared what happened to Vin. Why he didn’t care what had happened. "If it’s bills, you can keep ‘em." Buck laughed at first, then a serious look crossed his face.
"You’ve got sick time, right? You’ll be on disability, something like that? I mean - being off work won’t set you back any, will it?" he asked. The question - and the concern behind it - nearly overwhelmed Vin. He nodded, then wanted to be sure Buck knew which question he was answering.
"I’m all set."
"You sure? Car payment? Rent?" Vin nodded each time. "Well, you let me know if things change." Buck insisted. Just as Vin was trying to still the emotion rolling through him enough to say ‘thanks’, Buck went on in a tone just as serious and concerned: "Cheese of the month club?" and Vin laughed out loud. The first time, he thought, since the attack.
+ + + + + + +
Casey watched Nettie finish vacuuming the dining room carpet for the third time that morning. Still early, barely nine am, and the dishes were done, laundry hanging in the yard, woodwork polished, kitchen floor gleaming - and every carpet in the house immaculate.
"Aunt Nettie? Is everything okay?"
"Of course dear." Nettie said, wrapping the vacuum cord around its posts on the handle. "Why would you even ask?" She rolled the vacuum cleaner to the front closet then went into the kitchen for glass cleaner and paper towels to start on the dining room windows.
"Well -" Casey’s head swiveled as though she was at a tennis match, watching her aunt come and go. "You just seem a little - busy."
"Busy? Well honey, it’s going to be another scorcher today. I just want to get all the housework done before midday."
"Aunt Nettie -" This was more housework than they usually did in four days, much less one. " - are you worried about Vin?" and the older woman stopped in mid-swipe across a pane of glass. She looked down and refolded the paper towel for a clean surface and began wiping again.
"Of course I’m worried honey. He’s been hurt. Of course I’m worried."
"But - you’ve hardly been over to see him at all."
"He’s staying at Chris’ place while he gets better." But Casey knew that that wouldn’t usually stop Nettie from keeping a close eye on Vin.
"JD said he was -"
"I know what JD said." Nettie told her, a little harshly. Up until that moment, Casey hadn’t really believed it was true.
"But - Aunt Nettie - how could he?" Unconsciously echoing JD’s sentiment as her own. "You always told me it’d be better to die than let that happen. Why do you think he let them do that? Wouldn’t you think Vin’d fight till they killed him, before he’d let them do - that - wouldn’t you think that?"
Nettie sighed and turned her paper towel again. "Yes Casey. I would’ve thought so."
+ + + + + + +
Buck was grateful for that one laugh, it meant everything wasn’t dead inside Vin. He was serious about helping Vin, and when he saw in his eyes just how much it meant to him, Buck found himself automatically trying to lighten the situation. He knew Vin was trying to find a way to thank him for helping, but Buck didn’t need to be thanked. Vin was a friend, a good friend, and he needed a hand to guide him through some rough waters. Buck had had his own brush with similar waters and he wasn’t about to sit by and watch Vin Tanner drown.
Vin sat now watching out the passenger window. He kept it rolled all the way up, though the morning was growing hot and the truck didn’t boast A/C. Buck figured he felt safer that way, so he didn’t say anything about it. It was a short drive from Larabee’s to the closest McDonalds, fifteen minutes if that, and as they rolled to a stop in the drive thru line, Buck asked Vin what he wanted for breakfast. Vin turned a look on him as though it hadn’t occurred to him he’d be required to eat food for breakfast.
"Oh - I don’t know. Whatever you’re having I reckon. What are you having? I can pay for it..." he started to reach for his wallet, but Buck pushed his hand down.
"Don’t even think about it. I’m asking, I’m paying." and Vin blinked several times.
"Thanks Buck."
+ + + + + + +
Rain pulled together the paperwork she needed to start the clinic’s monthly statistics. They weren’t due until the tenth of the following month, still two weeks away, but she wanted to get a head start. Nathan was in the supply closet just across the hall, taking inventory. After a little while of inputting her data, she called to him:
"Nathan? How old is Vin? I know it’s in his chart, but I don’t have it with me."
"Vin?" Nathan walked the few feet over to her. "I don’t know exactly. I’ll pull his chart for you - why do you want to know?"
"For the stats. I always put the person’s age in along with the diagnosis."
"You’re putting that in the statistics?" Nathan asked, dismayed. "You can’t do that. You can’t do that to Vin."
"Nathan - I’m not putting in his name or any identifying data. We always break down our cases by diagnosis and age."
"And sex." Nathan pointed out. "Somebody is bound to figure it out Rain. We can’t do that to Vin."
"Do what Nathan? It’s no different than recording how many cases of migraine headaches or STD we treat in a month."
"Of course it’s different. Do you know how much ridicule and ostracism we would be setting him up for? Vin must be walking a fine line now emotionally. He’s gonna have a hard enough time getting his life back together, he doesn’t need to be dragging our statistics along with everything else he’s carrying right now."
Rain stared at Nathan, then grumbled and hit her ‘delete’ key repeatedly. "Fine. I won’t put it in. But I think you’re wrong about Vin. I know he was agitated when we treated him the other day, but he’s had time to sort this all out. I’m sure he’s dealing with it quite well."
+ + + + + + +
Buck and Vin got their fast food breakfast and drove another ten minutes or so out of town, in the direction opposite from where Chris lived. Buck pulled into a shaded, isolated spot along the canal and they ate in silence for awhile. Vin just picked at his food, taking tiny bites and chewing longer than would seem necessary. Buck was finished with his breakfast long before Vin ever would be.
"Everything OK?" he asked.
"Hunh?"
"The food okay? If that’s not what you want, you know we can get whatever you want to eat."
"Oh - no. This is fine, I always like McDonald’s. Just - tired - I don’t know - eating’s not exactly top on my list these days."
Buck hesitated before saying anything, quickly running possible answers through his mind. He didn’t want to sound patronizing, or flippant, or cause Vin any more pain. "You need to eat to get well."
"Doesn’t always work that way." Vin’s response confused Buck at first.
"What’re you talking about?" but Vin dismissed it with a shake of his head.
"Nothing - just don’t feel a hundred percent today." He took a pull on his orange juice - he was almost done with that Buck noticed, and after a minute or so, his brain finally registered what Vin might be referring to. This was not a time to be coy
"Have you been bleeding?" he asked. "You need to see Nathan?"
"I never want to see Nathan again." Vin spoke down to his hands. He sounded totally desolate. "I never want to see anybody again." Buck shifted slightly so he could put his hand on Vin’s shoulder without stretching.
"I know you don’t Vin. I know you don’t."
TWENTY-NINE
Finally, Vin just crumpled his breakfast burrito up in its paper and shoved it into the paper sack. "I’m sorry - I just can’t eat anything." Buck knew Vin was apologizing, thinking he’d wasted his money or something. He kept his hand on Vin’s shoulder, even though he could feel the muscles tense in an unconscious effort to get him to let go."You have to eat eventually Vin. You have to heal."
"I’m not going back to Nathan’s." Vin spat and Buck sighed.
"I can guess it wasn’t pleasant."
"Do you know what they did?" Vin demanded. "What they had to do? What they said they’d have to do if it didn’t heal? Damn attack wasn’t bad enough - can’t I just get through the rest of my life without anybody touching me?" and Buck still didn’t move his hand.
"No Vin, you can’t. And I don’t just mean this..." he squeezed his hand gently around the thin shoulder. "Just a part of life that people will touch you. You can’t get away from it."
"Sure you can." Vin disputed him. "My whole life, long as I can remember until just recent, nobody ever had both hands on me at the same time on purpose." It took Buck several seconds to get over the shock.
"Ever?"
"No, not ever."
"Not your Mom or your Dad? Or anybody?" Buck couldn’t believe it.
"Well, I guess Mom must’ve, don’t remember it much." Vin owned. "But not my Dad. He wasn’t a touching kinda person. We didn’t even shake hands at Mass..."
"Vin - years nobody touched you?" Buck refused to believe it. "Not hugs, or handshakes, or getting a pat on the back for a job well done? What about dating? You must’ve held hands? Or something?" A deep blush swept across Vin’s face, and just as Buck was about to offer that it was none of his business, Vin answered him.
"I don’t date much Buck. Not the same lady more’n a few times anyway. Probably got something to do with it, not holding hands even."
"But Vin - surely you’ve -" and this Buck could believe even less. "-made love with a woman?" Vin shook his head.
"Doing it before you’re married is against my faith." then a look crossed his face as he seemed to realize what he was saying. It had been done to him.
"Vin - what they did to you was an act of violence. They used the act of sex as a weapon. It was as impersonal as if they had hit you with a truck."
"Yeah." but Vin’s tone of voice didn’t agree with his word. He tried to look at Buck a couple of times, but he couldn’t raise his eyes. "Can we just - would you take me back to Chris’ place? I just want to lie down for awhile."
"Sure Vin." Buck finally moved his hand and started his truck.
+ + + + + + +
All the way back to Larabee’s, Buck’s mind was on overdrive. All the years he’d known Vin, he sifted now like clues at a crime scene. He couldn’t summon one memory of Vin touching or being touched by anyone. Buck couldn’t remember ever touching Vin - Tanner just always seemed to give off vibes like a force field and Buck never tried breaching it. It’d never occurred to him that it translated into the whole rest of Vin’s life. Wearing Chris’ shirt was the closest thing to an intimate gesture Buck could recall Vin displaying. He was thirty now, or nearly, how could a man go that long without making love with a woman?
How could anybody be so afraid of another person’s touch?
By the time they got to Chris’ house, Vin was in misery. He didn’t want to remember the loneliness that made up most of his life. Physical loneliness as much as emotional. He hadn’t been touched in so long - till that first time Nettie hugged him - that he was almost afraid of it. Afraid of wanting it, afraid of the need of it overwhelming everything else in his life.
The goodbye hugs he got now from Nettie - used to get anyway - meant so much to Vin, he kept a mental count of how many times it happened, and he remembered each and every one of them vividly. And the other night, Saturday night, when Chris held him while he cried - Vin didn’t think he’d ever get over the shock of that happening. It astonished him that Chris would do that, with or without the attack, and it shamed him how good it felt and how much he wished he could stay there forever.
So now he didn’t feel good, he was hungry but didn’t want to eat, he felt lightheaded, and parts of his body he didn’t want to think about ached dully. He just wanted to get back to Chris’ house and hide.
+ + + + + + +
They parked in the driveway and Vin followed Buck to the front door. "Where’s Mary? Her car’s not here..." Buck asked as he unlocked the door.
"School shopping. Guess the mall is having a ‘last chance’ sale or something."
"Oh I remember those days..." They walked into a silent house. Buck checked on Chris while Vin took the McDonald’s trash into the kitchen to toss. "Sleeping Beauty is still out." Buck announced, following Vin into the kitchen.
"He took enough medication to choke a horse...’preciate you taking me to breakfast Buck. Sorry I wasn’t better company..." Vin looked up when Buck let out a long breath.
"You were fine company Vin. I’m always glad to spend time with you. This wasn’t a ‘pity date’. Trust me - I know. I’ve been on the giving and the receiving end of those..." but Vin didn’t respond to the humor. He leaned against the counter and pushed one hand into a front pocket of his jeans. "How’s your back feeling anyway?" Buck went on. He came to stand in front of Vin.
"Okay, I’ve been taking my own arsenal of pain killers."
"Well, there’s something I want to give you Vin, if you’ll let me."
"What is it?" Vin asked, suspicious.
"This." and Buck wrapped his arms around a very startled Vin.
"Buck? What - don’t - Buck. What are you doing?" Vin put his hands on Buck’s arms, trying to resist, but he found himself firmly - but gently - restrained. His head rested - unwillingly but agreeably - on Buck’s shoulder.
"I’m teaching you a lesson." Buck told him.
"What the hell kinda lesson Buck? Let me go."
"I want to show you that this -" he emphasized the word by increasing the pressure of his embrace just slightly. " - this is nothing to be afraid of. And needing it is nothing to be ashamed of."
"Fine. Thanks. Let me go." Vin said into the fabric of Buck’s shirt.
"No Vin, it’s just not that easy."
"Buck - I’m fine. Let me go." Vin tried an insistent voice, but was afraid to physically try harder, he didn’t want to hurt his back.
"This isn’t about being ‘fine’ or ‘not fine’ Vin. At least not physically."
"Then what the hell is it about?" Vin felt panic welling up in him, his breath came fast, and in another minute he was going to force Buck to let go, no matter how much it might hurt. Physically or otherwise.
"It’s about knowing that you’re not alone Vin. It’s about letting friends help you and care about you."
"You can help me by letting me go." Vin increased the force of his hands on Buck’s arms. What if Chris woke up? What if Mary came home? He didn’t want anybody to see him standing here, hugging Buck, hugging anybody. He was never going to touch another person as long as he lived. The comfort of being held safe and close would never be worth how bad it would hurt when needing it was more than the other person could stand.
"Not yet." Buck held on. Vin was slight to start with, and Buck tried to be careful not to aggravate the fractured vertebrae, but he held on. This was no different from learning to drive - scary at first, but once you did it enough times it became second nature.
"I don’t want you to touch me!" Vin finally shouted. Buck wasn’t fazed.
"Why not?" he asked patiently.
"Because."
"That’s not an answer."
"Because..." Vin said again, trying to figure it out himself. Why not?
Why the hell not?
"Because...I don’t deserve it." The softly spoken answer threw Buck for a loop.
"What do you mean you don’t deserve it? Because they raped you? Of course you deserve it Vin."
"No I don’t. I don’t deserve it." Years of pain overtook the recent trauma and Vin choked on it as tears filled his eyes.
"Of course you deserve it." Buck repeated gently. "Why wouldn’t you deserve it?"
"Because -" Vin started to cry now. " - because if I deserved it, wouldn't somebody have done it even once in all this time?"
It took Buck a full minute to find his voice. Never more than a couple of days passed that he didn’t hug somebody, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to go years with no physical affection. Not even sex, Buck couldn’t imagine being a kid and having no one to hold your hand when you were scared or sick, no one to pull you into their lap and rock you to sleep. No one to give you a hug when they were proud, or sorry, or happy.
Still minding Vin’s broken back, Buck took a firmer hold on his fragile, shaking friend, shifting his stance slightly to support the extra weight that grief carried. "God, I’m sorry Vin. That’s a hell of a place to be alone. I’m so sorry..."
THIRTY
Chris was so heavily medicated that at first the voices came through in dreams. Buck and Vin hovered somewhere in the fog, talking, arguing, and Chris tried to get to them, but his body was lead and impossible to move. The tone of the Vin’s voice became more distressed, more panicked, and Chris pulled himself as close to consciousness as he could get and set off on a perilous trek from couch to kitchen. His feet dragged, his head pounded, and his eyes felt swollen. On the floor beside the couch, Cowboy lay stretched out in heat-induced lethargy, managing only to softly thump his tail on the carpeted floor. Chris made it as far as the doorway to the kitchen and had to stop, leaning heavily against the wall to keep from sliding down to the floor.He thought he must still be dreaming, he blinked several times to clear his vision, but it was real. There, twelve feet away at the kitchen sink, there stood Buck with his arms around Vin. From where he stood - precariously - Chris could tell that Vin was crying, he was saying something soft and broken to Buck, and Buck was quietly answering him.
When the reality finally cleared his drug-dimmed thinking, Chris quickly and quietly retreated to the couch, ashamed to have been peeping. Part of him was glad that Buck was there to help Vin. More of him though sank in the guilt that Vin needed help and he hadn’t been the one to offer it.
Dammit, he’d failed Vin again.
+ + + + + + +
If Vin could just sink into the floor and die, he knew he’d be so much happier. If he thought his legs would keep him upright, he’d pull away from Buck and go upstairs. If he could just take a deep enough breath of air, he’d tell Buck it was really okay to let him go now. If only he didn’t feel so safe and clean in the circle of Buck’s tender compassion, Vin knew he wouldn’t be standing here crying like a child in his big brother’s arms. It was too much. It would be too much and he had to start taking care of himself.
"Don’t -" the words choked out of him and into Buck’s cotton shirt. " - don’t tell Chris..." His voice caught in spasms of sobbing. "Don’t tell him."
"Don’t tell him what?" Buck asked softly. "Vin - you’re going through a hell of a hard time and it’s been less than seventy two hours. Chris’ll understand you needing this. Hell, he’s probably wondering how you held on so long." But Vin shook his head.
"He’ll think -" he stammered on a hiccup of breath. " - he’ll think I’m too much trouble..."
"That’d be about the last thing Chris Larabee ever thought about you." Buck told him, thinking it was a strange comment, considering he was the one standing with Vin at the moment. "He’d move Heaven and Earth to help you and not think one thing about it."
"No - no he wouldn’t." Vin insisted.
"How do you know? He ever tell you something like that?"
"...no..."
"See?" Buck stood very still holding Vin. He didn’t want to twist, turn, or twinge anything that might already hurt Vin too much. "There’s no way Chris’d ever think you were too much trouble." Vin was quiet after that, Buck figured - at least hoped - that the words had got through to him.
After a little while longer, the shuddering eased, the crying softened, and Buck felt Vin take a long, deep breath. Still he held on, wanting Vin to feel - to understand - that hugs weren’t just for a crisis, but for calm moments as well.
"She said." Vin spoke after another minute or so of calming himself down. He made no attempt to move away from Buck.
"Who said?"
"My aunt. She told me I always want people to take care a’me. She said people get sick and tired of it. She did."
"Who’s your aunt?" Buck asked, his anger instantly roused against this anonymous woman. "Who the hell is she to be telling you that?"
"Lived with her..." Vin finally, reluctantly pulled back and out of Buck’s arms. Buck let him stand back, but kept his hands on Vin’s shoulders. "...after my Dad died. She said I was selfish and never looked out for anybody else..." Vin wiped his sleeve across his eyes and wouldn’t look up at Buck.
"Well, the polite answer is that she was wrong." Buck fumed. "And you don’t want to hear the impolite answer..."
"No, she’s right. I could see she was right..." he sounded like maybe he wanted someone to dispute it.
"How could you see she was right?" Buck asked but got no answer. "Vin?"
"I always needed stuff." It came out a bit aggravated. "Shoes for school, or books, or if I got sick...I tried not to need anything, I tried so hard." his voice cracked and he roughly pulled out of Buck’s grasp, muttering something about using the bathroom.
Buck let him walk away, and shook his head. When the bathroom door closed, he could hear the squeak of couch springs, and the dull ‘thump thump’ of Cowboy’s tail. Chris was awake, or at least moving around, and Buck went in to view him.
He found Chris sitting up, head in his hands. He looked up when he heard his friend come into the room. "How bad is he?" he asked about Vin.
"Bad enough." Buck sighed. He stayed between the two rooms, keeping an eye on the bathroom door and Chris at the same time. "He ever mention an aunt to you?"
"Aunt?"
"Yeah, said he lived with her after his Dad died?" Buck elaborated but it was apparent that trying to think was making Chris’ headache worse. "She told him he was selfish, told him people get tired of taking care of him. He was crying just now." Buck didn’t know Chris had seen them. "Didn’t want you to know, didn’t want you to think he’s a burden. On top of everything else that’s happened to him..."
"Ah hell..." Chris bent his head down to rub his neck. "Yesterday Vin said something like that to me. Something about letting him know he was too much trouble before I threw him out. Damn." he let out a pained sigh. "Wondered where that was coming from."
+ + + + + + +
Vin’d only fled to the downstairs bathroom to escape Buck. No - to escape spilling anymore about himself to Buck. Sometimes people didn’t realize something about you, until you told them about it. Now Buck’d be adding up all the little bits and moments that would prove Aunt Diane right. And Buck and his concern and his embrace would fade away and Vin’d be left to shoulder this burden all alone.. But God - it had felt good to let somebody else be strong for that little while. He soaked a washcloth in cold water and held it against his eyes.
That other night too, Saturday, with Chris holding him and saying everything would be okay. Repeating it like a prayer. Vin realized he was surprised that Chris was solid, surprised to realize that he expected other people to be insubstantial as smoke and nobody strong enough to hold him.
But they had held him, and for a few miraculous minutes, Vin wasn’t alone in his misery and guilt and shame.
For a few minutes.
After awhile he tossed the washcloth in the sink and used the bathroom for its intended purpose.
+ + + + + + +
"Buck..."
"If you don’t relax Chris, it’ll only hurt."
"It already hurts."
"I have magic fingers I’ll have you know."
"OW!"
Vin came out of the half-bath to find Chris sitting at the kitchen table with Buck standing behind rubbing his neck and shoulders. Larabee’s shoulders were high around his ears, but - other than verbally - he wasn’t fighting Buck.
"You know this always makes you feel better." Buck said.
"Only because once you stop, it feels better by comparison." Chris’ voice was tight with the pain. When he saw Vin in the little hallway, Chris tapped Buck’s hand to stop. "Hey - how was breakfast?" Vin looked from Chris to Buck to the floor and back to Chris. He shook his head slightly.
"Wasn’t so hungry..." he said. "You okay?"
"I feel better than I look." Chris told him, and Vin blew out a breath.
"In that case - where d’you want the body sent?" he asked. Chris tried to glare but it just hurt his head too much.
"Funny guy." Chris said instead. "I have a Day Planner and a secretary you know. I can schedule a time to give you a smart answer." Vin stayed in the relative shadows of the hallway, but they could see he was smiling.
"Well, I’m shaking in my boots Chris. Just shaking in my boots..."
Chris put his head in his hands. "Why didn’t I just go to work today where I could get paid to have people annoy me?" he asked, of no one in particular. Buck and Vin exchanged a look over Chris’ bowed head, sharing the rare humor of Chris trying and failing miserably to maintain his tough as nails exterior .
"Hey Pard..." Buck said, both hands still resting lightly on Chris’ shoulders. "I gotta be going. You want me to getcha back to the couch?"
"Naah, thanks Buck." Chris tried to turn his head up to answer, but didn’t make it. "Think I’m gonna stay here awhile..."
"Okay...hey Vin - you wanna come button up the windows after me?" meaning the sliding glass doors.
"Sure..." Vin moved out of the shadows and crossed the kitchen to follow Buck out onto the deck out back. When they were out of Chris’ earshot, Buck turned a very serious look on Vin.
"Are you okay? Anymore blood?"
"I’m okay. There’s no more blood." Well, there was only a little blood, so it was only a little lie.
"Okay..." Buck pulled his keys out of his back pocket. "You take care of Chris for me, will you? See if you can’t get him to eat something. His headaches always seem to rage worse on an empty stomach."
"I’ll see what I can do." Vin promised.
"Okay...well kid -" and before Vin knew what was happening, Buck had drawn him into another solid, comforting hug. "I’ll check on you later. Chris gave me your keys and I’ll check your mail for you. All right?" Vin nodded. Briefly, just briefly, let himself return the hug.
"Okay Buck, thanks."
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