Blood flowed over the tile floor, filling the cracks and following the slight slant toward the corner where the tub attached to the wall. There was no room to escape. Arms and feet and fists kept him trapped in the little bathroom. Driving him into the wall and pinning him to the floor. Harsh laughter and vulgar intentions echoed around him. Already face down on the slick gore, he felt himself falling…Vin came awake with a start, flinching to keep himself from falling in his dream. His ribs ached with every hard pound of his heart in his chest and his breath came in short sharp pants of fear. He pressed himself against the mattress until his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the bedroom, reaching out blindly to pull the double frame of his parents’ pictures out from under the pillow and press gently against his thundering heart. qqq The door was open, and a thin stream of light from the hallway cut across the end of the bunk bed. Once the roar of fear subsided in his ears, Vin couldn’t hear any sound in the house. The room had no clock, so he couldn’t be sure what time of night it was. He’d gone to bed early, just after sunset, after taking a shower. Now the house was dully quiet and no hint of sunrise showed outside the window.
Middle of the night.
He needed to take another shower.
+ + + + + + +
3:49AM. Chris read the bright orange numbers on his bedside clock. Vin was taking a shower now? For a minute he wondered if he should get up when he heard the water shut off, and check on him. His first thought was to give Vin his privacy, not let him know he’d woke Chris up. Then he thought about where discretion had ever gotten him in the past, and he got out of bed, pulled on some jeans and a shirt, and went downstairs to make a fresh batch of lemonade.
Not wanting to put his pajamas back on, Vin got dressed again. He heard the floorboards complaining out in the hallway as he pulled on clean clothes, so he wasn’t surprised to find Chris waiting for him when he opened the bathroom door. "Couldn’t sleep either?" Chris asked, so casually that Vin almost believed him.
"Yeah…"
"You okay?" qqq qqq "Just a bad dream…" Vin pushed wet hair off his forehead then looked at the shower-induced wrinkles in his fingers. "Taking a shower every time I turn around - I’m turning into a damn cliché."
"No, you’re just turning into a prune…" Chris told him. "Going back to bed? I’m sitting out on the deck...want some lemonade?" Vin didn’t answer. "Think I slept too much today…" Chris went on. "Not tired at all. Wouldn’t mind the company."
Vin thought about it. He thought about it hard. Chris was lying, he hadn’t been awake when Vin went into the bathroom - the downstairs light hadn’t been on then. Chris was awake because he was, he was offering to sit out on the deck and drink lemonade in the middle of the night because he thought maybe Vin wouldn’t be able to sleep. He wanted to sit with Chris, wanted to Chris to sit with him. Wanted to not risk going back into his dreams and nightmares where they waited for him.
"No, think I’ll just go back to bed..." qqq qqq "You sure?"
They still had to get up in the morning and go to work, and Chris was still looking a little ragged to Vin.
"Yeah...I’m sure..." Without waiting for an answer, Vin went back into the bedroom. He shut the door over and sat on the bed, waiting to hear Chris go back into his own room.
Only he didn’t.
Vin heard him go back downstairs. Probably going to put the lemonade away and turn off the lights.
Only he didn’t.
The sound of the sliding glass doors being opened drifted up past the bedroom window, followed by the low grumble of Cowboy chasing shadows and Chris’ soft ‘shhh’ called to the lab.
That was it, Chris was just letting Cowboy outside, then he’d head back in and go back to bed.
Only he didn’t.
Five or ten or fifteen minutes passed, Vin sitting on the bed, listening to the sounds out his open window. Chris was talking softly to the dog, throwing a stick for him. Why was he sitting down there? What was he waiting for?
Maybe Chris really couldn’t sleep. Maybe something was bothering was him. That problem at work, probably. James and Royal and the embezzled money.Having Environmental Services thrown into his corner, along with Security. That’d be enough burden to wear down any man, even Larabee, without adding a brittle friend who couldn’t even spend a few hours by himself.
Vin shook his head and started to curl himself on top of the blankets when that one word unexpectedly reverberated in his head.
Friend.
How much of a friend was he being to Chris? Had he ever been to Chris?
Not much the past few days, that was for sure. With every other thought in his head reliving the attack, Vin hadn’t had much room or attention left for anything or anyone other than himself.
Selfish.
Just like Aunt Diane always said.
Usually, Vin could push away her sarcastic remarks and nasty treatment. Usually, when he was in a good place, with good friends, he could see that she was wrong, if not outright lying. He had good friends, and he was a good friend in return.
But times like this - when he was sick or scared or frustrated or tired or overworked - Vin could stand back from what he was feeling and see that he was selfish. He could see that he was using his friends, taking from them anything and everything they would give him, and giving nothing back.
Vin sighed. Chris had enough to think about and worry about and deal with. Maybe he needed some looking after too.
+ + + + + + +
Sitting out on the deck, Chris idly tossed a stick for Cowboy while he berated himself for not doing enough for Vin. He tried to think of something else, something more, just something he could do to help Vin.
He was having nightmares, that wasn’t a surprise. But what to do about it? Short of sleeping in the same room, or being awake every moment that Vin was asleep, nothing to do but expect them beforehand, and deal with them after.
What else? Vin seemed to be eating okay. Maybe not as much as he normally did. Nobody could ever figure how such a still person could eat so much and stay so scrawny. It seemed like he’d lost some weight in the past few days, but maybe it just seemed that way because he was wearing Chris’ shirt and it was too big for him.
Tomorrow would be the test, no doubt about it. The past two days, Vin had been safely tucked in with his friends, with people who knew and understood and only cared that he survived and recovered. Tomorrow - later today - when they went to work, Vin would be out among people who knew, or didn’t know, people who cared or cared too much, people who would understand - or who already condemned him for what they didn’t understand.
Chris sighed, and threw the stick out into the darkness again for Cowboy. Nothing to be done about that, was there?
Except get his hands on whoever made Vin’s life miserable and grind them into the dirt. He could do it. And he would.
+ + + + + + +
Just as he was getting ready to head back up to bed, Chris was surprised to hear Vin moving around in the kitchen. He knew it was Vin because he could hear the dishwasher being opened and closed. Mary never took dishes out of the dishwasher except to put into the cupboard. This had to be Vin.
So, Vin was awake, and probably getting something to eat or drink Which was good. Then Vin appeared on the deck, carrying two bowls. He sat down and handed one to Chris - bananas and milk.
FORTY
Mary woke up alone. She took her shower and got dressed, and went downstairs to find two men asleep in the Adirondack chairs on the deck. Vin had a couple of pillows supporting his body, and a wool blanket almost completely covering him. Chris slept with no pillow, but was almost completely covered by Cowboy, the black lab stretched to his full length across Chris’ lap and chest, snoring softly.“Make a cute couple, don’t they?” Vin asked, as he pulled the blanket away from his face. He surprised Mary, she thought he was asleep.
“What are the two of you doing out here?”
“Ohhh –.” Vin looked over at Chris. “Somebody couldn’t sleep, so somebody else thought he might sit out with him awhile…”
“Well, that was very sweet of you.” Mary immediately sized up the situation. “I’m going to start breakfast, whenever you want to come in.”
“Okay, I’ll see if I can rouse the twins…”
When she was gone back inside, Vin pushed the blanket down and stretched as much as he dared. The pleasant summer morning wafted around him, and the nice feeling of being warm, safe, and comfortable lasted just as long as it took the first twinge of pain to reverberate through his body. That’s all it took to summon the horror back to him, front and center. He was one day farther away from the attack, and one morning closer to facing life outside the safety of Chris’ house.
Suddenly, the day wasn’t so pleasant anymore, and even the wind seemed to claw and drag as it drove past him. Vin pushed himself out of the Adirondack chair. He had to act as though the weight of it all wasn’t suffocating him. Bundling the pillows and blankets into his arms, he patted the dog’s head.
“Hey Cowboy, time to get up.”
Cowboy began to wag his tail even before his bleary eyes opened. He stretched himself out, pushing one paw toward Vin, but making no move to get up. Chris’ only response was to reposition the dog’s elbow out of his ribs. He didn’t even open his eyes.
“Chris?” A little louder.
“Hmm?”
“Can I borrow your truck? I promised Billy I’d teach him how to drive.” Vin didn’t feel the casualness and humor that he forced out; he knew he had to make everybody else think he was doing okay.
“Keys ‘r in the kitchen.” Chris mumbled into Cowboy’s fur.
“And can I use it to haul a load of manure to fertilize my garden?”
“…yeah…”
“Can I jet Mary off to an exotic island for a few weeks without you?”
“Sure…” With his voice just as mumbled and tired, and still sounding mostly asleep. “Y’oughta be able to hitch a ride on one of those pigs that’ll have started flying just then.” Chris finally opened his eyes. “Daylight already, hunh?”
“Happens every day about this time.” Vin agreed. “Mary’s getting breakfast. I’m headin’ in.”
“Okay, I’ll be there…” Chris made a halfhearted attempt to sit up, but Cowboy had fallen back asleep. “Soon’s I can roust ‘The Terror’ here.”
“I’ll come back for you, if you’re not there by lunchtime.” Vin promised, and then walked into the house.
“You’re all heart, you know that Tanner.” Chris called after him, pushing at the deadweight of dog pinning him down.
Vin carried the pillows and blankets up to the guest room. His room. The times he’d stayed here in the past, or when he was over for dinner, or just stopped by for some reason, any reference to the guest room was always made to ‘his’ room. He always appreciated that. But maybe now he was taking it for granted.
He wished he could figure it out.
Realistically, he knew – as he sat himself down on the edge of the lower bunk in ‘his’ room – he knew that Chris was his friend. Vin could easily pull from his memory every little comment and action and sign of affection that Chris had ever offered him that left Vin no doubt of their friendship.
Vin had helped Chris move his frugal possessions into his office that first day three years ago, but he never intended to pursue anything more than a business relationship with Larabee. The next day they’d passed each other on the Green, and Vin offered a generic greeting. But Chris turned to walk with him. Mostly he asked Vin questions about the University and surrounding area, but his last question was to ask if Vin’d had lunch and would he join Chris?
The offer – and the enthusiasm behind it – surprised Vin. What surprised him more though was that he accepted the invitation, and actually had a good time. Aside from some initial awkwardness at having lunch with a relative stranger, Vin never felt anything but at ease around Chris.
So, why was he feeling so self-conscious now?
Because nothing was the way it had been Friday noon, when they had lunch together and parted ways on the Green. Chris had gone back to his office, and Vin’s life had been exploded.
And he would never get all the pieces back together again.
He set the blanket and pillows on the bed and gathered up the waiting clean clothes for another shower. But when he got to the bathroom, he wondered why he even bothered. He knew he’d feel just as dirty when he got out of the shower as when he went in. Why waste the time and the hot water? He was dirty, he’d always be dirty, so he might as well just *be* dirty.
So he threw the clothes back onto the bunk bed and went downstairs.
+ + + + + + +
At first, Chris took it as an encouraging sign that Vin hadn’t taken another shower, and then he got a look into his eyes. Definitely not good. What was it – despair? – misery? – hopelessness? Whatever it was, Chris didn’t like it.
“How’re you doing?” he asked, as they sat down for breakfast. Vin shrugged and didn’t seem inclined to answer, then it was as though a light went on.
“I’m okay. Tired. My back hurts. You know.” He shrugged again, and smiled at Mary when she passed him the basket of bread.
“Sleeping in those deck chairs.” Chris agreed. He accepted the bread from Vin, and handed him the bowl of scrambled eggs. “I guess we’re lucky it didn’t rain again.” But a few minutes later, Chris flashed a glance at Vin again, and the light had gone off, and the despair had returned.
FORTY-ONE
Vin picked at the food on his plate for awhile, and managed to eat barely a third of it. Finally he gave up and set his fork down. “I’m sorry Mary. Don’t mean to waste your food – just not real hungry.” Chris looked across the table to his wife. She had a sad e.xpression on her face, looking at Vin who wasn’t looking at her, and he worried that she was about to offer Vin a sympathetic answer. He didn’t think that would do Vin any good.“Well, you know she’s more used to feeding Buck.” Chris spoke before Mary could. “It’s an automatic reaction to cook so much food.” Mary shot him a slightly disapproving look, but Vin lifted his head.
“Not too shabby yourself there, y’know.” His voice was as lifeless as his smile.
“Just more of you to love honey.” Mary told Chris. But the lift in her tone didn’t match the sad look that didn’t leave her eyes. “At least I just keep telling myself that…”
Chris was going to give her a – forced – lighthearted response, but Vin pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’m just gonna go brush my teeth and…and…whatever… before we head out.” He started to pick up his plate, but Mary insisted he leave it for her, and he nodded, and trudged out of the room to the staircase.
When she could be reasonably sure Vin was out of earshot, Mary said: “He looks worse today. Do you think he should go to work?”
“I have to go to work, and I don’t want to leave him here by himself.” Chris avoided saying that Vin didn’t want to stay by himself either.
“Well…my mother is coming over with Billy later. Vin likes my mother.”
“I can’t leave him with a babysitter Mary. How would that make him feel?”
“You’ll be ‘babysitting’ him at work, won’t you?”
“That’s different – he’ll be working, he’s gotta help me get through the mess with James. He’ll be busy, he’ll have something to do other than just stare at the walls and think about what happened to him…”
+ + + + + + +
Take the toothbrush out of the holder in the wall.
Take the toothpaste out of the cabinet on the wall.
Turn on the water.
Open the toothpaste.
Vin’s hands shook as his brain patiently transmitted to them each step in the process of brushing his teeth.
Put the toothbrush under the water.
Put toothpaste on the toothbrush.
Put the cap back on the toothpaste.
Hell, his whole body was shaking. The thought of going out into the world, of leaving this house, of leaving his room, scared him sick. There’d be questions and stares and people he wouldn’t be able to avoid.
Put the toothpaste back in the cabinet on the wall.
Brush teeth.
He might even see them out there.
He gagged on the thought, and on the action of brushing his teeth. He spit and retched toothpaste foam and bile into the sink. His bruised muscles and cracked ribs cramped and spasmed in rebellion, and the pain tore up his backbone. Even his eyes hurt.
The whole episode was blessedly brief, and when it ended, he staggered backward a little, to sit unsteadily on the edge of the tub. He wrapped his arms around his aching ribs, with his toothbrush still death gripped in his hand, and rocked slightly against the pain.
He couldn’t go out, he knew he couldn’t go out there into the world again. He didn’t want to leave the house, didn’t want to leave his room, didn’t want to leave the bathroom if he didn’t absolutely have to.
But then his mind followed that thought through – if he didn’t leave the house, he’d be all alone when Chris and Mary went to work. Or Chris would stay home too – out of concern, out of friendship.
Maybe out of pity.
Vin pushed the pain aside and stood up again. He rinsed the toothbrush and set it back in the holder, rinsed his mouth with a handful of cold water, washed his face – and went back downstairs to face the day.
+ + + + + + +
“You okay over there?” Chris asked, when they were about halfway to St. Michaels.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look too good.”
“Well don’t go getting all high on yourself just ‘cause Mary chose you over every other guy wanted to marry her…”
“You know what I mean.” Chris insisted. Vin wanted to snap back ‘no I don’t’ but he only shrugged.
“I’m okay.”
“You let me know how long you want to stay.”
“I’m okay.”
+ + + + + + +
By the time they got to St. Michael’s, Vin wished he could throw up; maybe it would ease the solid mass of fear twisting inside of him. Chris pulled his truck into the parking space marked with the sign ‘Parking for Chris Larabee only. All others will be remembered fondly.’ Vin welcomed the smell of fresh air and cut grass that blew in as he opened the passenger door. He welcomed more the relatively few people walking nearby. He wondered how fast he could make it into the building, and how close he could stick to Chris while he did it.
“I am not looking forward to this day.” Chris said, as he stepped down out of the truck, and came around to Vin.
“I’m looking forward to this day being over.”
“Vin…” Chris put his hand up to stop him. “I mean it – you tell me the instant you don’t want to stay here.”
“That’s easy.” Vin answered evenly. “It’ll be the instant I see JD.”
“Don’t worry – I see him first, you won’t recognize him.”
FORTY-TWO
Vin kept his head down as he followed Chris into Chase Hall and down the long corridor to the Security Department. His distress felt like a fist wedged into his throat. He wished he had something in his hand, so it could seem like he was reading it and not deliberately avoiding lifting his head. Thankfully the hallway was clear, and they didn’t meet anybody. It was a relief to reach Chris’ office, and the safety of a closed door.He hesitated a minute, wanting but not wanting to simply throw himself into the nearest chair and try to calm his shaking nerves. In that minute, he saw that Chris’ office had been slightly rearranged – the corner that used to hold a small table and a couple of chairs now narrowly held a small desk with a computer on top of it.
“I talked with Gloria yesterday.” Chris explained when he saw the confusion. “Asked her to have computing get you set up in here. Figured it’d be easier that way, both of us can work on the problems and not play phone tag.”
“Yeah…” Vin doubted that he could get his mind to focus enough to even think about the problems, much less formulate any solutions. He maneuvered carefully behind the desk and set himself into the chair. He made no move to turn the computer on; he ran his hands over the fake wood top of the metal desk.
“If there’s something you need from your other desk, I can get it for you.” Chris offered. He came to stand in front of Vin. “Or have somebody bring it over…” Vin blinked a couple of times. His mouth felt dry.
“Got a picture of my folks over there.” The first thing that came to his mind. “My coffee cup I suppose, I don’t know…”
“Okay…should I have somebody bring those over, or would you like me to get them for you?” and Vin felt humbled by - and undeserving of - the concerned, understanding tone in Chris’ voice.
“Would you – whenever, y’know – if you’d get ‘em. At least the picture. I’d rather you got that.” If possible, his mouth became even drier. “If you would – y’don’t have to. Whenever. Y’know...” Vin finally just closed his mouth to stop his babbling.
Chris either didn’t notice – and Vin was sure he noticed – his distress, or just chose not to mention it. “OK, I’ll head over now. If I see anything else that looks likely, I’ll bring that back too.” He headed for the door. “I get the feeling this whole mess is gonna take a while to plow through, so you’re stuck with me for the duration…want anything else while I’m out?” Vin licked his dry lips and tried to swallow.
“Something to drink, maybe? Pepsi or water or something?”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” Chris left the office, and shut the door behind himself.
Vin stared at the door a little while, willing his panic back down to where he could manage it, down to the fist still in his throat. When he could breathe again, when his hands stopped shaking enough that he could manage the buttons on the keyboard, he fired up the computer and started going through his email.
Vin’s usual ‘desk’ was just a space on a long countertop in the corner of the workshop attached to Groundskeeping’s garage. His computer had a sheet of clear plastic over it, and it – and everything else – had a thick layer of dust, sawdust, and plaster dust on it. The photograph of his parents was under the plastic with the computer, but his coffee cup wasn’t. Chris wouldn’t touch that cup, much less drink out of it. He found a paper bag tucked under the table saw and shook the powdered grime off before setting the picture into it, and some other supplies that looked like Vin might need in the meantime. He didn’t take the cup.
“Chris – I thought I saw you come in here.”
He turned to see Gloria Potter making her way across the cluttered floor. In her good suit and high heels, she was completely out of place in the mess. He hurried to meet her, afraid she’d twist an ankle or do some worse harm to herself if she covered too much ground.
“Gloria – this isn’t a fit place for a lady…”
qqq But Gloria had other things on her mind. "Chris - is Vin all right?" Her question surprised Chris - and worried him.
"Why would you ask that?" he was finally at her side.
"Well, when you called yesterday and said he wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t think much of it - except to hope he’d feel better soon. But when I mentioned it to JD later, he seemed so upset..."
"Upset how?" Chris hoped he didn’t sound too anxious for the information.
"Oh - I just asked him if he knew how Vin was. He got a funny look on his face and said I should ask you. Is he all right?" Chris knew that Vin kept an eye out for Gloria - against James sure, but against blown fuses and tired appliances too; he knew that she wasn’t asking now about Vin for her own sake, but because she was genuinely worried.
"He’s fine Gloria..." Chris politely indicated they should leave the workshop. "He’s here today. He just got -." Great, just got what Larabee? Whatever Vin had told him at first. " -hurt. Fell in his bathroom. Cracked his head, cracked some ribs. Couple of black eyes. He’s stiff and sore..." Chris tucked the bag under his arm, held open the door, and took Gloria’s arm to help her over the threshold. "...pretty sore at himself..." He smiled at her, hoping she’d believe his levity. "Couple painkillers and a few days, he’ll be fine."
+ + + + + + +
Vin had gone through most of his work-related emails. Most of them were the useless "all staff" announcements that really only mattered to one or two departments, and he deleted those. A few were requests from staff who learned long before that it didn’t help to ask Lucas James for help. One email Ezra had sent him, Friday afternoon, reminding Vin that he if wanted to take advantage of the one tuition free class he was entitled to every semester, he had to send the paperwork in before the end of the month.
Friday afternoon he’d sent it. Vin checked the time.
Seemed to be just about the time - he didn’t want to think about it, but his mind worried the notion like a dog with a bone. Ezra was sending him an email just as...just as... He couldn’t summon the words, and he couldn’t banish the images.
Just as he thought he’d be sick, Vin heard the doorknob turn. Thank God, Larabee was back. The door opened - and two anxious voices said at the same time: "Chris?" and two startled young men stared at each other.
"Vin - I didn’t ..." JD stammered around the door. "I thought - I mean -." He finally blurted, "Is Chris here?" But Vin didn’t answer right away. He stared some long moments, wanting to damn JD for whatever he was thinking.
"Chris is out looking for you JD, and I recommend you avoid him." Vin kept his tone flat. JD made a derisive noise.
"Thanks for the warning. Tell him I need to see him. Tell him I’ll be..." JD’s glance took in the new office arrangement. "...someplace else..." and he slammed the door as he left. Vin’s body began to shudder, and his skin went cold and clammy. Chris had a bathroom attached to his office, and it was still too far away. Vin only made it through the bathroom door when he lost even the little he’d had for breakfast that morning.
FORTY-THREE
JD didn’t really mean to slam the door; still, it felt good for a minute. But by the time he got to the end of the hallway furthest away from Chris’ office, he felt cold and sweaty, and suddenly sick to his stomach.What the hell was Vin doing at work? He hadn’t expected to see Vin sitting there in Chris’ office, and he sure hadn’t been expecting that he’d look so – normal. Well, the bruises under Vin’s eyes weren’t normal, and he seemed a little pale. Still, he didn’t look like a man who’d been – who’d let – who’d… If that’d ever happened to him, JD knew, he’d never be able to go out in public again.
But it never was gonna happen to him because – because – well, just because it wasn’t, that’s all.
He grabbed a long swallow of water from the fountain in the hallway, which relieved his tight throat, but did nothing for the uneasiness twisting in his stomach. Judging from the new furniture, seemed like Vin was a permanent fixture in Chris’ office, and JD had no wish to keep running into him. That just wouldn’t be – he didn’t suppose Vin would want to be – dammit, he just didn’t want to do it.
Going outside into the fresh air didn’t help any either, and he wondered why his hands were shaking. Too much caffeine, that was it. Too long since breakfast maybe. He’d go to the Student Union and get a bagel or something, that’d help.
So what if Vin looked the way he always looked? So what if the way he always looked was like a man who’d never let himself be – but now he had been – and that must’ve been because he let –
Didn’t matter, because it would never happen to JD because he would – he’d never – dammit, it just never would happen, that’s all.
JD crossed The Green from Chase Hall, heading for the Union. Vin’s statement came back to him though when he saw Chris just going into that building - Chris is looking for you. A dozen different errands he had to attend to on the other side of the campus suddenly occurred to JD, and he quickly turned his steps that way.
+ + + + + + +
Chris got Pepsi and water, and went back to his office. The first thing he saw when he stepped into his office was Vin, sitting on the floor next to the half-closed bathroom door. He had his arms around his drawn up legs, with his forehead resting on his knees.
“What’s going on?” Chris asked. He tried not to sound worried.
“I’ll clean it up,” was all Vin answered. Chris looked around the cramped quarters.
“Clean up what?”
Vin lifted his head and motioned toward the bathroom. “I threw up…I didn’t make it…” Chris stepped cautiously past him, and took a look around the bathroom door.
“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry…here, I got some things from your desk, and I got some water…” he set the bag on Vin’s desk. “Want some help getting up?” Vin shook his head and muttered a soft,
“Naah…”
Still, Chris waited a few moments before he left the office again. He went down the hall to the Housekeeping storage closet, and brought back a broom and dustpan, and one of those packages of neon pink sawdust made for just such an emergency. Vin hadn’t moved off the floor, and Chris thought he’d take care of one problem at a time. He went into the bathroom and spread the sawdust onto the very small mess.
He was surprised to hear Vin bark, “Don’t do that - stop cleaning up after me.” And Chris looked around the door to see him still on floor, looking a little pale and a lot pissed. “I can do it.” Vin insisted. “Just give me a minute.”
Chris ducked behind the door again, made some noise with the broom and metal dustpan under the pretense of setting them aside. But really, he was trying to hide his breath of frustration. Why wouldn’t Vin just take help when it was offered? It’d make things a whole lot easier. But – Chris let out another long breath. Sometimes life just wasn’t easy.
He’d intended to go back out and lift Vin to his feet and set him back in his chair and tell him to drink some water and just relax. Instead, he left the bathroom and shut the door, and sat himself on the floor just opposite Vin, with his back against his own desk. Vin eyed him a little suspiciously.
“You all right?” Chris asked, vaguely indicating the bathroom.
“Yeah…” All the air seemed to leave Vin’s body.
“You want me to take you home? Back to my house?” Vin didn’t answer. “You don’t have to stay here if you’re not up to it Vin.”
“JD was here looking for you," was what Vin said. Chris felt the tension of wanting to pound JD crawl up his spine.
“What’d he do?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” Vin said, and repeated it when it seemed Chris didn’t believe him. “Nothing. A person doesn’t have to do anything to make y’feel like shit.”
“Do you want me to take you home?” Chris asked again. He offered it gently, not wanting Vin to feel he was pushing him to decide either way. Work could go to hell – JD could go to hell – Chris just wanted…
Honestly, he didn’t know what he wanted. Not so that he could put it into words. Vin sat three feet away from him, arms still around his knees, pale and sweating, and looking like he wished he could melt into the floor. Neither man was demonstrative, though Chris had been trying to overcome that since even before he knew Vin. But – no matter the extra hugs he’d taught himself to give to Billy, or how it was just natural now to reach silently across the couch for Mary’s hand when they were watching TV or reading the paper – nothing could’ve ever prepared him for this.
When Vin was broken down and crying in the front hall in the middle of the night, it was an automatic reaction to hold onto him until he was calm. But that was in the dark, with nobody around. Almost nobody, he thought of Billy peeking down the stairs. Chris didn’t know how Vin would feel about being touched, and he didn’t know how he’d feel about touching. This was work, broad daylight.
Vin shook his head, answering Chris question. “Stay…I’ll stay here.” But he sounded unhappy. How do you console a man at work, in broad daylight?
“Well then…” Chris got to his feet and offered his hand down to Vin. “I was wondering if you had an idea what the most important thing we need to worry about for Groundskeeping before the fall semester starts.” Vin hesitated a bit before he accepted the help, and let Chris help him stand.
“I don’t know if Groundskeeping is our biggest concern. Some of the emails I was looking at before, Maintenance is what seems to be going to hell…” He sounded stronger, focused on a problem other than his own. “Stair railings loose, doors don’t lock.” Once on his feet, he headed for the chair at his desk again. “Elevator in Cleveland Hall is doing The Shimmy again…ohh, what else? I started a list…”
“How come…” Chris opened the paper bag and took out a liter bottle of cold Pepsi, then he handed the bag to Vin. “…you come back from a sick day, and all you have are work related emails. I come back to a hundred advertisements for Viagara.” He wondered too late if maybe he shouldn’t have said that to Vin. But Vin only gave him a dead serious look.
“Might be Mary’s giving out your email address?” he offered, helpfully. His expresion didn’t change even as Chris glared at him.
“I thought you were my friend.” He tried to sound hurt.
“Imagine if I wasn’t,” Vin shot back. Chris let out a wounded sigh, but was inwardly glad that Vin was sparring with him. He took his Pepsi and he took his seat at his desk again.
“I get no respect,” he mumbled.
“Y’might if you tried some of that Viagara…”
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