Title:  ATF:TFD – The Burden Hardest to Bear 1/1

Author:   Birgit “Lee” Kohls

Feedback: [email protected] (the editorial tear-apart of the story is appreciated!)

Disclaimer: : The Magnificent Seven don't belong to me, they are the property of MGM, Trilogy and Mirisch Co. This story is for entertainment only. No profit is being made. (other disclaimers see story)

Rating:   PG

Spoilers/Warnings:  Spoilers to the other TFD stories J

Notes:  This is an entry from Vin Tanner’s diary.

Thanks to Mitzi, who help a lot with getting this universe on the right track and inspiring this story.

Also thanks to Axianna, who betaed this story.

The unbetaed version was posted as a snippet without name on the BrigaDears and the MagnificentAUs mailing list.

Archive:  Yes

This AU is open.

 

 

 

The Burden Hardest to Bear

 

by Birgit “Lee” Kohls

 

Thursday, March 21st

 

I don't know what's wrong with me. Today, I got the most miserable result on the shooting range I ever had. Chris just laughed and said I had a bad day. But what would he say if he knew the truth?

 

The headaches only stop on the weekends, when I'm not at work. I sometimes think that I have a brain tumor or something. It can't be normal, what with the blurry letters and that I hardly can see the target any more? MaybeI oughta ask Nathan, but Nathan would only tell me to go to the doctor, and what if it is a tumor?

 

No, I can't tell Chris, not now. Not with that big bust tomorrow. We all worked so hard for this, what if Chris needs me tomorrow, and I'm not there?

 

I'll go and see a doctor after the bust.

 

 

Saturday, March 23rd

 

Why? Oh my God! Why did I miss? Why didn't I see him? Some bastard shot Chris and I couldn't stop him... Didn't see him in the rafters, aiming for Chris and Ezra. Knew there was someone, could feel him, but couldn't see him. What is wrong with me? I pray to God that Chris will live.

 

It didn't look too bad in the beginning, a wound in the abdomen. Chris has been hit worse before and he always came around. But this time was different. He almost died on us! Nathan was with him at once after the tear gas was gone that the FBI had used to smoke out the perps. No idea where the Feds came from, they suddenly were there. Ruined the bust and got Chris shot.

 

Ezra was out cold, knocked out by the gas. He came around when Nathan and Buck began CPR on Chris. Poor Ezra, I've never seen him so scared before. And all I could do was stand and stare at Chris, and Nathan, and Buck... Push, push, push, push, push, breath. Push, push, push, push, push, breath.  It seemed like an eternity, and I was just standing there, frozen. All I could see was Chris lying there in his own blood, slipping away. When the paramedics arrived, they revived him, but Nathan told me that they lost him two times more on the way to the hospital.

 

I’m not sure how I arrived in the waiting room, it's all in a haze. Ezra was in the ER briefly to get himself treated for the tear gas. As always, he had nausea and a lousy headache, but he didn't complain.  Thinking of it, he hasn’t said much the past two days, ever since Chris was shot. He just looks at me with that poker face of his, but I can see the pain and fear in his eyes. The others aren't doing much better, but at least they let it out. We're all worried sick because of Chris, and then there is Mary. I think Josiah called her. She’s been waiting with us for news, waiting for the doctors to tell us that everything will be all right. But there's the fear that it won't be. The doctors say it's going to be tough, that the bullet damaged muscles and organs, tore open old injuries. They said he had massive internal bleeding and it's a miracle that he survived the trip to the hospital. I don't even want to think about it, but the thought is stuck in my mind, Chris almost bled to death right before our eyes...

 

I don't know which is worse, the scene that repeats itself endlessly before my inner eyes, the never ending waiting or the knowledge that I have failed my friend? It makes me feel hollow inside, this guilt, my responsibility...

 

The knowledge that this all could have been avoided if I had just paid better attention... Please god, let Chris live... Let him live... Don't take him away from me...

 

 

 

Sunday, March 31st

 

It's been a week, and still no change. I hardly can stand to see Chris lying there in the hospital bed. He's all wired up, connnected to the machines that keep him alive, looking so frail. Mary is sitting next to him, she has never left his side. I hope the stupid idiot knows how lucky he is that a woman like her loves him. But I guess he does.

 

He looks so fragile in that bed. Pale, too pale. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but Chris looks better today than he has all week. I have to ask Nathan when he comes with dinner for Mary and me. We are doing shifts now, working, sitting with Chris, sleeping for a handful of hours, work again. None of us likes it, but I know that Chris will have our asses in a sling if we neglect our cases. Last time he was this bad, we let the work tend to itself until he was awake... My ears are still jingling from the lecture he gave us.

 

When he wakes up, he won't have anything to complain about. I'll make sure of it. It's the least I can do... maybe he won’t ever be able to forgive me. I sure know that I will never forgive myself...

 

Tuesday, April 2nd

 

Chris woke up! He's still weak, but he is awake again. The doctors are pleased with him - well, as pleased as you can be with a conscious Chris Larabee in your hospital bed. God, it's good he's back.

 

Ezra's been running around in the office grinning like a Cheshire cat. That is, until Josiah and Nathan found out that it wasn't just Chris' waking up that made him so happy, but a nice sum of money he had won.

Turned out that he had bets running on Chris' survival, not just with the other teams but with some other departments as well. Needless to say that Nate and Josiah gave Ezra their two cents about making bets on the survival of Chris. I told them that Ezra had won the money because he the others had thought that Chris would die. That shut them up. Ez didn't take what I said too well. Maybe he wanted Nathan and Buck to be angry with him? But why? It makes no sense. Does he feel guilty because Chris was hit and not him? Reckon’ that’s the reason, or as close as I’ll ever get to a reason. Ez kept on smiling but I could see it in his eyes. The team has become family for all of us, maybe most for Ezra, and the reminder of almost losing Chris is opening fresh wounds.

 

Thursday, April 4th

 

I had to hold the debriefing on the last bust today. Nathan asked me if everything is okay with me. I said yes, but it was a lie and Nate knows it. The nightmares won't stop. Will I miss next again or mistake one of my friends for a perp? I  wished that at least the headaches would go away. As if sitting at the computer and typing reports wasn't bad enough, no, my eyes are burning so bad I can hardly concentrate.

 

Chris is doing better. Slowly. He stays awake for more than a few minutes in a row and is already complaining. He wanted to know what happened, so I told him. He gave me that strange look and said that it wasn’t my fault... But I know I can't trust myself any longer, I have to find out what’s wrong with me. Maybe I tell Chris when he's doing better, but right now, this is my problem to solve, alone.

 

Two weeks later:

Monday

 

It took visiting four different doctors before they finally figured out what is wrong with me. My eyes have gone bad. I'm shortsighted and I’ll have to wear glasses. To think that I almost lost Chris because I can no longer trust my eyes...

 

Ezra already volunteered to go with me to the optimetrist and help to pick a decent pair. "Appearances are everything, Mr. Tanner." Good ol' Ez.

 

 

One week after that:

Wednesday

 

I can't do this any more. Every time I see Chris I remember what happened. He was released from the hospital yesterday, but all I can think of is how that bullet hit him and that it was my fault. If my eyes had been better... If I had seen that sniper earlier... If I hadn't missed him...  But the ifs won't make it undone.

 

I have to keep my hands from shaking during busts. When I'm lying there in the rafters, hiding, it's almost unbearable. My friends think I'm all cool, that I'm handling everything well with the glasses. If they knew that I'm scared out of my pants every time I aim for one of the perps, scared that I’ll hit one of my family instead of the bad guys, what would they say? The team depends on me, their lives are at stake. I'm trying to keep this in my mind, but it ain't helping. I always see Chris, bleeding on the concrete floor of that warehouse. How can I cover the others when I’m like this?

 

Thursday

Chris might not return to the team. He told us that the doctors have little hope that he'll ever be able to make it through re-evaluation. I guess that today isn't a good day to tell Chris about my decision.

 

The next week:

Saturday

 

Chris and I had a long talk today. I didn't tell him about my trembling hands, or about the nightmares, but I think he knows. Chris always knows. He keeps on telling me that it wasn't my fault, that it would have gone down the same way if I could have trusted my eyes. He tries to be nice, he wants to talk me out of my guilt trip, but my decision is final. Someone else has to snipe, I can't risk the lives of my friends again. My aim in the shooting range got better. Chris said that I should give it some time. Time won't make it any better for me, not with the knowledge that I could have prevented what happened to Chris. My hands are still trembling every time I pick up a rifle. I just can't do this any longer. Let them all think that I quit because of my bad eyes... Let them think whatever they want, but I will not risk my friend's lives any longer...

 

The End

  

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