Setting: ATF AU
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
NOTE: Big thanks, no HUGE thanks to Julie, for her invaluable, generous and wonderful medical assistance.
A soft breeze blew through the window and he sighed. The cottage was still and quiet, with only the moon still awake. Outside, the twittering and cawing of nightcreatures blended into nature's melody.
A creaking sound.
He furrowed his brows over closed lids. The nightsounds returned, the breeze kicked up and he sighed again.
Footsteps.
He frowned in his sleep and tossed his head on the pillow. His breathing kicked up and a pungent scent invaded his airway. He coughed and turned away, trying to escape. It was thick and choking him. He tried to sit up and found a weight on his chest. He grunted and groaned, his injured arms waking up. Then a chill went up his spine.
A sinister laugh.
Sinister?
His eyes bolted open and he found the lower part of his face blocked by something slick and heavy. He sniffed wet leather. He tried to move again and the weight seemed to get stronger. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and the first thing that caught his gaze was the watch. Not just any watch. A specific watch that he knew as well as his own. His confused mind was thick and addled by the painkillers. Leather jacket, heavy weight , watch... .he moved his head and saw a pair of legs going off the bed.
"....hell's goin' on..." He croaked, trying to move the offensive cloth from his face. He felt the air giving way and began to panic. His ribs were on fire and his shoulder was throbbing. Every gasp brought the offensive odor.
"...stinks..."
"It's the smell of death, Mister Tanner."
"Huh?" Vin blinked, shaking the cobwebs away. The watch was at his eye level, held by the body that lie perpendicular to his own, pinning him down. He coughed and tried to turn away, something wet and metallic ran into his mouth, gagging him. His eyes caught the watch again — his watch!
"Chris!" He rasped painfully, "...get off me... somebody's ... here..." He shoved his weak body and the other moved, revealing something so terrifying, it paralyzed his vocal cords.
"He tried to save you, foolish man."
Vin's jaw worked and a tiny squeak came out. The sickening smell became more apparent then. Blood and the stink from the river. The river... he saw twin red orbs glowing like fire at the foot of the bed.
"N...n...n...n..." he chattered, his eyes drawn to the object held high above. The evil laughter echoed on the walls, as the voodoo priest moved closer. He wanted to scream, to fight to move, but he was locked in terror. In one hand, the evil one held a large bloody knife. In the other, with blood and severed edges exposed, was the head of Chris Larabee, eyes open and blank.
"Foolish mortal," the voice baited, "Now I will have your heart." He dropped the head into the cooler and moved closer.
Vin shoved as hard as he could, recalling his friend's words.
"I'll find you, Vin..."
"Buuuuuucccckkk!"
"Jesus Christ!" Buck jumped out of bed and bolted, hitting the door hard. He ignored the rocks cutting his bare feet. He shoved the door open and moved quickly, entered the bedroom of the cottage.
"Vin! Vin, calm down! What the hell happened?" He dropped to the side of the bed, where the tracker was lying tangled in sheets. His eyes were wide and vacant, his breath was short and labored. He was covered in sweat. He waved a hand in front of the unblinking gaze and swore.
"Vin, can you hear me? Vin?" He tapped the pasty cheek and the body began to tremble. He should run for Gabrielle, but he couldn't leave the shocked man. He eyed the cooler and moved his hand, his goal to get ice.
"No!"
"Vin?" Buck sighed in relief as the eyes blinked and the body began to shiver.
"Don't... Chris's in there... He kilt 'im... Oh God..get the blood off... " He began to move his cast awkwardly, bringing pain to his injured shoulder.
"Cut that out!" Buck said sternly, grabbing Vin gently but firmly. "You had a bad dream. Chris is sleeping upstairs. Look," His fingers left the shivering body and touched the rim of the ice chest.
"No!" Vin shouted, gasping. "Get it offa me... I can't breathe... Buck... I can't..."
"You're scarin' yourself silly, now cut that out. There's plenty of air in here. Look at me!" He hollered sternly, gripping the sweaty face. The pain screaming from the wide blue eyes nearly undid him. "It was a dream, understand?"
"No... Bates was here... he kilt Chris... his blood was in m'mouth... that bastard... he... he... cut his head off... wavin' the hell over me... He put it in there... knife... he..."
"Alright, alright," Buck soothed, realizing Vin was in shock. "Come on, let's get you back in..."
"No! Ya gotta kill 'im..."
"He's dead, Vin," Buck kept his eyes on the trembling man and moved his arm back, opening the cooler. "See, Vin, only soda and ice. Okay?" He saw the sky eyes avert. "LOOK!" He ordered, shoving it closer. The audible gasp gave way to a long exhale and then a flush of shame.
"No call for that," Buck said gently, getting a coke out of the ice.
"Ya don't... it was real... Buck... I swear... he w...w...as... r...right..." He saw the image of Chris's severed head again and began to gag.
Buck grabbed a cloth from the beside and stuck it in the cooler, soaking it. He held it under Vin's mouth, but nothing came but painful dry heaves. He wiped the pasty face and wrapped a soft blanket around the shivering man.
"I tried... I... I... couldn't move... Chris's body was coverin' me... choking m'air... it was so... real..."
"Okay, okay..." Buck placated, getting Vin to his feet. The knees buckled immediately and he grabbed the loose pajama bottoms. "Come on..." He led the shaking man outside onto the porch and sat him down. The cool air seemed to revive him somewhat. He went back inside for the soda and saw Chris in the doorway to the house. He shook his head and waved him off. He didn't know if Vin was ready to see Chris yet. He joined his thumb and finger in an 'okay' sign and pointed to the kitchen. The blond nodded and went inside to wait.
Vin never moved. He sat on the edge of the chair, unable to get comfortable. Hell, right now he wasn't even comfortable in his own skin. He'd had nightmares before, but not like this. He rocked a little, hoping the steady rhythm would calm his jangled nerves. Try as he might, he couldn't get the grisley image of Chris's severed head dripping blood on him. He licked his lips and tasted blood. He felt the airway closing again and tried to calm himself down. He began to spit dry, hoping to get the blood out.
"Here," Buck sat next to the pale man and frowned, "What are you doing?"
"...his blood... can taste it... runnin' in m'mouth..."
"Damn," Buck slumped, realizing how traumtized the younger man was. "Can I have a look?"
"Sure..." Vin opened his mouth.
"You bit your lip..." He held the cold can against it, "Better?" The damp head nodded and then he eased the straw inside the parched lips.
"M'sorry..." Vin finally said, after half the soda was gone. "It was so real... he's dead?"
"Yeah, Vin... J.D, Nate and them put a dozen holes in him." He saw the head drop and the color rising. "Vin , you been through Hell and back. You're entitled to a bad dream. Could be this is bringing out your worst fear.
"Don't get much worse'n that..."
"Maybe you should talk about it... what happened to you I mean. Maybe it's locked inside, causing them bad dreams."
"Mebbe..." Vin admitted, "not now..."
"Okay," he saw the shivering again, the cold air going through the thin blanket and hitting the naked chest. "How 'bout we get you inside? I'll sleep on the couch..."
"I ain't a baby."
Buck smiled at the return of 'cranky' to the pale features.
"No, but your wet and onry..." He teased and got a half grin. "I'm up anyhow... I put a movie on."
"Aw, hell," Vin's head jerked, "I didn't wake nobody did I?"
"No, that's why I got the baby moniter. My room's by the kitchen. Come on..."
Ten minutes later, Vin was settled back in bed. Buck sat by him until he dozed off. Realizing Chris was waiting, he moved to the door.
"Bucklin,"
"Right here, Vin. I was just gonna shut the back door." He saw the moon turning the blue eyes silver and the head nod.
"Thanks... fer..." he stopped. "Thanks..."
"That's what big brothers are for, Slick," he returned warmly with a wink. "Get that mangy head down."
"What happened? Is Vin okay? Christ, I heard his screaming upstairs!"
"Here," Buck handed him a beer and got one for himself. "Nightmare. A bad one. He woke up and thought Bates was at the bed." He sighed, ran a hand through his tangled dark locks and rubbed his eyes. He took a long draw on the beer and scratched his chest. "... wavin' your severed head over him." Buck flinched at the painful intake of air through clenched teeth and at unbridled rage on the other man's face. "He bit his lip... thought it was your blood in his mouth. He thought your head was in his cooler. "
"Dammit!" Chris vented, slamming the bottle down. "Bastard's dead and still torturing him."
"It's gonna take time, Chris. Hell, after what he went through..." He took a swig and eyed the cottage. "I don't know many men that strong."
"I'm not leaving." Chris decided of his flight the following night, Sunday night.
"You gotta go. You've been gone close to six weeks. We got three pendings and two actives." He noted of their most busy cases. "I'll stay. I've got plently of 'use or lose' building up," he thought of his annual leave. "I can buy another week. I'll sleep in the cottage on the couch if I have to."
"He'll never agree to that."
"Well, I better get back, I'll sleep on the couch tonight. I told him he needs to talk about what he went though. That's way too much shit to tote around, even for a Tanner."
"Thanks, Buck," Chris slapped the bare back. "How come you never moved that fast went Adam's monitor went off?"
"Loaded diaper," Buck chuckled, "that's where the line between father and godfather is drawn." He laughed, "You better get back to bed, you're gonna be busy tomorrow."
"Busy?"
"Yeah, you're the one he's gonna spill his guts to. It's you he's seein' that butcher cuttin' up. Something's eatin' at him inside... and you're tied to it."
"Yeah," Chris waited until Buck was back in the cottage and returned to his bed. He tried to sleep, but it wasn't a restful peace. His own dreams were fractured and puzzling images of the swamp, the mountainsand an eagle with broken wings.
The others didn't know about the horrid dream, but they sensed something was wrong. It was Sunday morning and the guy's from the team were gathered in Vin's cottage. They'd be leaving at seven that evening for Denver and needed some time alone with their friend. But Vin was quiet and withdrawn, troubled by something. Normally, their dirty jokes, bawdy humor and roughhousing was something he relished and took active part in. But not today, he managed a weak few grins and then exited.
"Chris?" Nathan got the leader alone, noting his own dark mood. "Did something happen between you and Vin?"
"No, not exactly. " He sipped his coffee as J.D. and Buck tossed cookies at each other. "Vin had a bad dream last night. It really shook him up."
"The others are coming later... " He thought aloud of the dark mood.
"Yeah," Chris poured a second cup and loaded it with sugar. "I'm gonna talk to him."
He headed outside and found the pensive sharpshooter in the gazebo. Gabrielle was on seven to three shift and would be home at four p.m. Vin was still sleeping when she left at six a.m, three hours ago. He sat the cup down, complete with plastic top and built in straw.
"Thanks," Vin managed, more for the body then the beverage.
For awhile they sat in silence, each providing silent comfort. But every time the leader looked up, he saw such deep pain in the lost eyes it made him wince. He sipped his coffee, inhaled the sweet flowers and watched a lazy bee take flight.
"Talk to me, Cowboy."
"I'm all fucked up."
Chris smiled at that. Vin could put a dictionary into a handful of well chosen words — ever the sharpshooter. He waited a few more minutes, watching the handsome profile try to speak several times.
"I'm not on the clock," he reassured and got a grateful sigh. Twenty more minutes passed, before the raspy voice sounded.
"He was in m'room... I woke up... couldn't move... yer body was pressin' on me... blood runnin' in m'mouth... he... he... waved... he... shit!" He went to make a fist and of course he couldn't. He wanted to thwack something... anything... but a gentle but firm hand over his casted one stopped flight. "yer head... over... yer eyes was open... blood runnin'... I didn't move... I jest... laid... I couldn't help ya... save ya... couldn't..."
"Helpless?"
"Yeah...."
Chris knew what was behind the frightning dream. He knew was dark demon was lurking in the frazzled man's mind, causing the nightmare. He knew was reality was manifesting itself in brutal technicolor. The razor talon's were slashing his best friend's pysche to pieces.
"Must be a helluva thing... being helpless... unable to defend yourself... your team..."
It took a few minutes, until the head rose slowly and turned towards him. Befuddlement dissolved into clarity. The blue orbs were alive and bright now, bearing into his own. The jaw worked, the lips moved but no words came. The head shook and the cast went airborne again.
"Don't..."
"Don't tell me what t'do!" Vin vented. "Ya can't understand... ya got yer job... the respect o'every badge in Colorado... ya even got a fuckin' 401K... ya ain't..."
"I'm not what, Vin?" he pressed quietly, sipping his coffee.
"Leave me be." Vin tried to stand ,but he couldn't get started. The word 'crippled' flashed in his head in red neon, giving him a headache.
"No," Chris moved in front, blocking him. He saw the cast come up again, fueled by blue fired eyes. "Go ahead," he nodded to the plaster "It'll get you more down time... more therapy... that what you want?"
"I want... I want..."
"What?"
"I want ya the fuck outta m'face!"
"No dice."
"Move" Vin tried to push forward, but only met a wall of dark gray resistance. The harder he struggled, the more he hurt. Finally, he feet slipped and he ended up on his butt. Chris knelt down in front of him, gripping his shoulders.
"Spill it!"
"I can't."
"Figures," Chris's tone was full of disgust.
"What figgers?" He was wary of the body now rising and leaving.
"You turned yellow."
"Get back here and say that t'my face! Larabee! " Vin tried to roll, he felt like a worm.
Inside the house, hearing the loud voices, J.D. went to the window. When Vin went down, he bolted for the door. But a six-foot-five barrier stopped him.
"Leave it alone, J.D.' Nathan warned, physically turning the active youth.
"He fell!"
"Sit down, Kid." Buck ordered, his glance going from the window, to the team's youngest and back to the paper. "Chris's handlin' it..."
"Well, from here it doesn't look like he's doing much of a job. Vin's on the ground."
"Your energy would be better served cleaning up the mess you created," Ezra shoved him toward the living area.
"I don't get you guys... he could be hurt..." J.D sat down and began picking up cookies from the floor.
"Rise in the presence of the aged, show respect for the elderly..." A deep voice quoted Leviticus 19:32.
"How's that tied to Chris and Vin?" Dunne frowned at the preacher.
"It's not," Josiah swatted the dark head. "You're in my chair!"
Heaving shoulders and hot eyes gave way to labored breathing and pain. His head and chest ached and his shoulder was on fire. Most of all... Chris Larabee's well honed bullets his home. He eyed the back of the man he respected like no other and thought on the words. Was he yellow? Was that fear haunting him? What if he couldn't save his team? What if his arm failed at a critical moment? Defeated, all the anger dissolved, running off the gazebo floor and into the floor beds. He slumped, head hanging and began to breathe heavy. He saw a shadow fall across his body and felt ashamed.
"Need a hand?" Chris asked, only returning when he saw the need.
"I don't know if ya got what I need." He said in an alarmingly defeated tone, then lifted his left arm.
"Try me," the wise man offered, settling the shaking body back down. "You won't fail me."
"How can ya be so sure?" Vin's breath caught at he utter steeled resolve in the leader's tone.
"I know you."
"It ain't that simple, Chris."
"To me it is," he leveled a hard gaze. "You would never take aim if you weren't 100%. You wouldn't suit up..."
So many images ran through the confused blue eyes, but understanding was the one that remained. They now understood each other. Chris knew Vin would fight like hell to get back in shape. Nobody would work harder. But he also knew, if worse got to worse, the Texan would hand up his guns. He'd never push himself if he wasn't 100%. He'd never risk the lives of his friends for false pride.
"You know Max Miller?"
"Max? Vin blinked, his mind's eye drawing up the bespeckled man who ran the lab. "Forenics guy? Yeah."
"What would happen to the high percentage of our cases, if Max wasn't running that lab?"
"Uh..." the eyes narrowed and the head cocked, "Uh... reckon a lot of perps would walk..."
"Would you say Max has a job that matters?"
"Hell, yeah. Man can find ant piss in a river..."
Chris found a grin, as he always did when Vin's wry humor made itself known. He continued to smile as Vin walked right into his trap.
"Hell, he saved our asses lots of time in court. Every case we got, he had a hand in..." He stopped then as the perfect Larabee bullet hit home. "Ya tricked me!"
"Give a man enough rope and he'll hang himself," the blond quipped, wearing a cocky grin. His smile left when that fear returned to the sky eyes. "Vin, every job counts. That's what makes us a team. This might be decision you don't have to make." He offered optimistically, thinking on the arm coming back. "If not," he gripped the back of the tense neck and waited for the troubled head to lift. "We'll get through this together, okay?"
Too moved to speak and feeling such a strong surge of Larabee faith that it took his breath away, he nodded mutely. Chris rose and went to help Vin stand, but the other man shook his head.
"Gimme a minute, okay?"
"Okay." He sat down and waited until Vin's raging emotions were under control. "Vin, if you put that shit out of your head, them dreams might stop. It's your subconscious working overtime."
"Reckon."
"Looks like J.D. just ate that bacon and peanut butter sandwich..."
"What?" Vin's eagle eye darted. "'siah made that fer me. Used the last of the raisin bread... dammit, get me up." He saw the grin then and the devilish green light in the eyes across from him.
"Ya tricked me again,"
"Fool born every minute," Chris steaded the younger man as they walked slowly toward the house.
"Chris," Vin stopped in front of a gorgeous coral and yellow rose bush. "I want ya t'know... I ain't got any words fer it..." He swallowed hard, lifting his pinned wrist and feeling the other's fingers grip is swollen ones. His eyes went to the sky were a bird soared. "On eagle's wings he carried me... chasin' the doubts and settin' m'bound soul free..."
"I'd say you said it just fine, Cowboy," Chris said huskily, gripping the back of Vin's neck. "You done?"
"Reckon."
"Good, I'm starved." He opened the door, "Rescuing long-haired river rats works up an appetite."
"Shut the hell up, Larabee!" Vin hollered, hobbling inside. "J.D. gimme m' fuckin' sandwich. Case ya hadn't noticed, I'm a invalid. Pickin' on a cripple..."
"He's back..." Nathan smiled at the cranky Texan being needled by J.D. and Buck, who ruffled his hair.
"I ain't fergettin' this, Bucklin... Tanner paybacks is a bitch!"
"Yup," Chris grinned, poured another cup of coffee and said a silent prayer for Vin's recovery.
The weather was perfect for the picnic. On the grounds of Sauville house in the magnificent garden, they dined like Kings. They laughed, joked and shared the sunlight and drank in the wine of each other's company. Seamus had just regaled the group with a humorous tale about a mistaken room in a hotel that led to him getting in bed with a nun.
"That's not as funny as the time when Lily first met Vin." Buck announced, winking at Brie.
"They don't need t'hear that!" Vin flushed.
"I'd love to hear this story," Gabrielle's was sitting next to Vin and gave his neck a gentle squeeze. . "Yeah, we do!" J.D. gushed, "I never get tired of hearing that story."
"What's wrong, Honey?" Lily caught the shamed face, "You have nothing to be embarrased about."
"Depends on where yer sittin'"
"Speakin' of sitting..." Chris egged, "It began a few weeks after Vin joined the team. Lily was at my ranch for a visit, to work with some local artists. She was interviewing prospective models... young males for sketches." His grin widened when Vin's head dropped in defeat.
"Aw, hell..."
"It was Vin's first visit to the ranch. I gave him a tour on horseback, through the mountains. We got caught in a storm. He slipped and went down a short hill, got covered in mud. When we got back to the house..."
"Wait a minute, Chris," Buck interjected, eyeing the others, "We were all there, in the den. We used to gather at Chris's on Sundays for a football and food fest. Lily's interviews were supposed to start on Monday."
"So," Chris continued, a wicked gleam in his eyes, " Vin was covered in mud and I didn't want him tracking it in the house. I have a shower outside, under the porch. He used it and wrapped a towel around his waist..."
"Oh, I like this story," Brie baited, cupping Vin's chin. "I bet you look cute wearing a towel..."
"Whose side are ya on?" He tried to twist away, then blushed when Caitlin winked at him.
"I never saw so many shades of blush," Caitlin laughed.
"We were in the den, Lily was alone in the kitchen. " Buck picked up the tale, his voice already cracking. "Vin walked in the door and all Lily saw was a nearly naked body with long air. So she says..." He started to laugh, unable to contain it any longer. Josiah was already laughing and J.D. soon followed. "Drop the towel, Stud and let's see what you got..." He exploded in laughter, falling off the chair.
"It weren't that funny, Bucklin," He rasped, fighting hard not to join the others, who were all laughing.
"It was hilarious!" Buck defended weakly from the ground, hands clutched on sore sides and face wet with tears. "Your voice went up a full octave."
"... like an audition for the Vienna Boys Choir," Ezra imparted with a wide smile
"What!" Buck imitated in a falsetto voice. "Oh My God... I'll never forget..."
"He stumbled backwards," Chris recalled from his vantage in the doorway of the kitchen. "His towel got caught on the edge of a cabinet..."
"Oh no," Brie laughed, covering her mouth.
"Traitor!" Vin sassed, then rejected her kiss, "don't swap spit with the enemy."
"...and fell face first into the dog's dish... presenting his best assets high on full display!" Buck wheezed, wiping his face.
"Lily looked down at his sorry Texas hide and..." Chris waved his hand to the elderly woman who was now standing next to the red-faced Texan.
"She pinched his..." Buck lost it then, dissolving.
"...cute little Tanner ass," the matriarch concluded, cupping his face. "I never saw a pair of cheeks blush like that..." she teased of his assets.
"You thought he was a model?" Gabrielle asked.
"What's so funny 'bout that?" Vin defended of his 'honor', as Lily bent and kissed his cheek.
Buck watched the elderly lady whispering in the beet faced sniper's ear and then heard Vin laugh and wag his eyebrows.
"What?" He demanded, feeling their eyes on him.
'She said ya ain't got no room t'laugh..." the injured man tossed back, his pride wounded but recovering.
"Lily, you're throwing me over for that mangy, Texan?" Buck feigned being wounded, clasping his heart.
"You're too old for me Buck." She kept her hand on Vin's neck. "and you're equipment isn't up to standard."
"Standard?" the rogue crowed, "You're kidding? Him?" His voice went up and Vin scowled. "What's he got that I ain't got?"
She laughed and winked ,squeezing Vin's hand. "a cute little Tanner ass..."
It was quiet as Sunday night's should be. He was alone in the garden, basking in the moonlight. Buck was in the cottage, watching and waiting. He wasn't surprised when Buck returned from the airport, having dropped the others off. That was his way. Oh, he'd joke and make light of it, but when it came right down to it, the man had a heart the size of Texas. He felt honored to have such a friend. He inhaled the sweet breeze and thought on the weeks ahead. Three more weeks until his pins came out and the wrist cast came off. Three more after that until the immbolizer came off.
He missed Chris already and felt foolish. He wasn't a kid and he had friends, no family, here. But still, somehow when Chris was nearby, he felt stronger, more whole. The heady scent of the garden was intoxicating. He heard the theme song of the local news drift from the window of the cottage. He smiled, sighed and closed his eyes, letting the sweet scent calm his jangled nerves. The soft kiss on his neck gave him a smile.
"Bucklin?"
"That's not funny!"
"Ya deserved that... I ain't sure if I forgave ya yet." He huffed, raising an eyebrow at the pretty woman. Then he squinted, "Hey, yer missin' half yer clothes..."
"...and that's a problem?" She whispered, pushing the hair fron the side of his face and nibbling on the soft spot behind his ear.
"Don't ... be... doin'... that..." Vin's heart began to pound and he stood up, his senses flooded from essense of all that was her. The lips found his and silenced his protests. He groaned as her hands circled his waist and slid under his waistband, cupping his backside. He yelped and stiffened, breaking the kiss. "What are ya doin'?"
"Checkin' out that cute little Tanner ass!" She nibbled his lower lip and caressed the firm flesh.
"Now ya done it!" He hissed, losing control fast.
"Problem?" She whispered huskily, sliding his loose pants off the slim hips.
"Ya... g...g... got the boys all fired up..."
"Well now," she pushed him back gently on the cushioned armless lounger. She straddled him and gazed down at the handsome face. "Good thing there's a doctor in the house!"
Later, he used his swollen, casted fingers to stroke her back. Her head rested under his chin and he felt her soft breath dancing on his hot flesh. Her fingers teased the sensitive areas on his chest and he sighed in contentment.
She felt his heart thumping wildly and recalled the look of anxiety she'd seen before she entered the gazebo. Without lifting her head, she snuggled closer.
"Are you okay?"
"I am now," he returned, kissing the top of her head. "I got t'missin' Chris. Silly, huh, his plane's barely landed in Denver."
"No," She lifted her face and traced his lips with her finger, grinning as he snagged it between his even white teeth. "Most people go through a whole lifetime never having one-tenth of what you two share. Missing him is a compliment."
"Could cause a boo boo... inside like... might take some extra kissin' and such..."
"...and such?" She raised a wicked eyebrow.
"'specially 'and such'..." he chuckled. "I love ya, Brielle... if I had a wing free I'd pinch m'self."
She laughed and moved up cupping his face in both hands and kissing him softly.
"You're the wind in my sails, Vin Tanner... this heart..." she put one hand on her chest. "was stolen... by a sorry-assed, long-haired river rat..."
"Texas variety?" Vin choked, her beauty overvcoming him.
"Oh yeah..." she whispered and worshipped his lips again.
In the weeks to come, as he progressed painfully on his therapy visits, he'd need that tenderness at night, in her arms. The days he took therapy were a total loss. After the grueling morning sessions, he returned home and the painkillers took him into a heavy sleep. The days he didn't have therapy, he recovering body still needed rest and most of the afternoons were lost. His spirits sank and his moods shifted.
The others left for work everyday, even little Grace had school to go to. In the beginning, the others called frequently. But they had quiet a few active cases and were busy in the field. So the phone calls were less frequent. He missed them. He missed the office. He missed Ezra's dry comments about his clothes and Chris nagging him about his coffee making abilitys. He even missed Buck ruffling his hair. The blues bug bit him but good and he continued to sink into a depression, feeling inadequate and useless.
Then a few days before his pins were to be removed, Brielle came home all excited. She was being honored for her charity work with handicapped and terminally ill children. She devoted hundreds of hours to their care — physically, spiritually and emotionally. The city was having a black tie ball, honoring a select group of humanitarians. Vin was prouder than hell and her joy brought him a real smile. He let Ryan help him pick out tuxedo and felt cocky as hell when they entered. He felt honored to be her date and didn't care about the eyes on him. She looked spectacular, he'd never seen her so radiant and beautiful.
So while she was on the dias, with he other honorees, he was at a table in the back. He wasn't comfortable around strangers and especially those who were way out of his league. The glare from the jewelery these women were wearing nearly blinded him. The men were arrogant beyond belief. They were the elite in that their jobs, incomes and homes set them apart. His eyes kept shifting to the empty two seats next to him. Where were Caitlin and Ryan? A formally dressed waited tapped him on the shoulder. He didn't know it, but the message would crack his fragile being and begin his passage into darkness.
"Are you Mister Tanner?"
"Yeah," he squeaked, his throat drier than a desert. The glass of water was slick and he couldn't lift it.
"There's a phone call for you."
Who would be calling him here? Unless...
"Oh God..." His heart dropped, as he saw Chris laying bloodied and dead.
"Sir?" The waiter frowned, annoyed at he delay.
"Sorry," he rasped, trying to get to his feet gracefully and failing. He stumbled, swayed and nearly landed in a dowager's lap.
"'scuse me..." he managed, recoiling from the nasty glare. Her face screwed up in revulsion and she raked cold eyes over him, as if examining a bug. "I ain't real good on m'feet t'begin with. Now I got two busted up wings. Sorry," he staggered and followed the waiter to the landing and a red phone.
"Hello?"
"Vin?"
"Ryan? Ya okay?"
"Yeah," his voice was hoarse. "Cait was in a car accident...
"What?" Vin's heart began to pound. "She okay? Aw, hell, she had Grace with her!"
"I'm at a hospital across town, near Justine's house. Cait was picking her up from a birthday party. The cop said it was a drunk..."
"Dammit, she okay?"
"Cuts and bruises, maybe a concussion, she's in the ER. They takin' her for a CT Scan" He chest constricted. "They were lucky, Vin. She's a good driver, she saw him at the last minute and swerved. He just missed hitting her broadside..."
"The little one?" Vin's heart skipped a beat.
"Scared... but okay. I'm sorry, Vin, I can't leave here. I hate to put you in bind like this..."
"No... I understand." Vin stammered, the hours in front of him with the smug group now seemed like years. "Ya call me when ya know more. Ya give 'em m'love."
"Don't tell Brie yet. She's worked to hard for this night. Her being upset won't change anything now. Let her shine. Tell her after the awards."
"What if she see's yer not at the table?"
"Say we're delayed... I don't want her to worry. I don't think I can get over there... it's packed here and Grace is with a nurse, I can't leave her... she hasn't said a word... she wouldn't let me go..."
"No, Ryan, don't be crazy. Yer place is with yer family. I'll be okay. Call me?"
"I'm sorry, Vin. I'm putting you in a bad spot. You have no help..."
"Hell, Ryan, me and fussy food don't get along." He tried to calm his growling stomach and his jangled nerves, as the arrogant faces appeared again. "Ya ain't hidin' nothin', right? They're okay?"
"They're lucky," The Irishman sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He saw Grace whimpering from across the room and the large eyes looking for him, just as her arms reached out. "God was riding with them. I have to go, Vin. I'm really sorry..."
"Quit sayin' that, I'll be okay."
And he tried to believe that, telling himself that over and over. Dinner was a disaster. Every attempt at conversation aborted early due to the odd stares as his speech. Eating? It was a cornish game hen and he couldn't use the knife. Not one of them offered. He ate the mashed potatoes, dropping half with shaking fingers. His mouth watered for the cold water in the glass by his plate. His parched throat was in dire need. He reached for the water, his swollen fingers and the plaster cast causing a racket as he hit the other glasses and the vase of flowers.
"...sorry..." he rasped of the harsh stares. "Can't seem to get a grip. It's slicker than a... uh... it's... uh..."
The glass was too slick and he couldn't grip it. He used his napkin to gain leverage and it almost worked. Just inches from his dry lips he dropped it. It hit the edge of the table and broke, sending water and glass on the dowager's leg. He stood up immediately, but not quick enough.
"You uncouth hayseed!" She growled, shoving him aside.
"...m'sorry Ma'am," he stammered, face flushing as every eye at his table and the neighboring ones bore in on him. "It were an accident..." He tried to pick up the glass with his casted hand. This effort was met by another shove, which caused him to hit the chair with his healing back. Pain shot through his entire frame.
"Sorry! Just leave... go back to the trailer park you crawled out of!" She patted the wet spot on her gown, not hiding her disdain.
"There's no call fer that," Vin recoiled at the insult. "I got two busted up arms. Did it ever occur t'ya t'offer a hand?"
"You want a hand, Jethro?" A large man seated next to the toadish dowager stood and flexed his arms. "I give you two... I'll send you back to Clampett County in a body bag."
Vin felt the angry stares of the others on him and suddenly realized just how far from home he was and how totally alone. The heat on his face rose again and he right shoulder and back were throbbing. He squared his shoulders and stared at the giant.
"Big man, huh?" He rasped, eyes hot, "pickin' on a cripple."
"Get back to moonshine hill, Jethro before I do something you'll regret." The large bully grabbed Vin's right elbow, sending waves of red pain through his immobolized arm.
The need for air, cold air, lots of cold air to fill his starving lungs propelled his leaden legs. With their cruel tuants in his ear, he made his way through the crowd. A headache spring to life, as the echoes of 'haysee' 'Jethro' and 'uncooth' rang in his ears. He was glad his table wasn't in full view and Brielle didn't see him. He'd have been embarrassed. He felt sick in the stomach and he knew the heat was his skin flushing. He staggered to the hallway outside the massive ballroom, where 500 people were dining. He stumbled to the exit door, using his left cast to open it. Cold air rushed in, taking his hair off his sweaty face. He gulped it noisly, his heart pounding. He was dizzy and the need for his overdo painkillers were gnawing greedily.
While Vin was struggling outside, his date was celebrating inside. The jade gown was off the shoulders and dazzled the onlookers. Her smile lit up the table. She dined and chatted with the other honorees. Several times, as she tried to find Vin in the throng, her attention was snagged by a reportor, the Mayor or another guest. Finally, she excused herself and left the dias. She found the hostess and inquired on the McKenna party. Securing the table location, it took her several minutes to work her way through the room.
"Doctor Marquette?"
"Mrs Hitchcock, how are you?" Gabrielle eyed the elderly aristocrat who was a generous contributor to the hospital.
"Congratulations, My Dear," the dowager cooed, "We were all thrilled for you."
"Thank you," she smiled, eyeing the three empty seats. Two places were empty, the third had a nearly full plate of food. "Three friends of mine were supposed to be here. You remember Ryan and Caitlin McKenna..."
"Certainly," she nodded. "I haven't seen them tonight. Not to worry, Dear, they must be delayed."
"Was Vin here?" She eyed the plate again, a crumpled napkin and a wet spot on the floor.
"Who?" Alan Hitchcock, the old crone's younger second husband inquired. He was a large man seated next to her.
"Vin Tanner, " She eyed the surrounding area, where guests were dining and chatting. "Long hair, blue eyes, drawls... my date."
"Your..." Cornelia Hitchcock bit her tongue. "...date?"
"Yes, the hostess said... he should be here..." She thought of how nervous he was with strangers and his small bladder. "He didn't finish his dinnner... maybe he's in the bathroom."
"Ah, yes... he seemed to leave rather urgently. I wasn't paying attention..."
"I better check on him, I'm sure you realized he was injured..."
"Yes, well..." the dowager stiffened as the young woman left.
Vin re-entered the large room, the cold air having restored some of his balance. His eyes scanned the room and he thought he saw a flash of her gown heading the other way. He moved through the crowd, recoiling when the voice of the old crone who'd insulted him sailed past his ear. She was holding court with several distinguished guests. Vin recognized some of them as Gabrielle's colleagues. On the way in, she'd pointed some of them out. As the words left her mouth, his heart began to hammer. He flattened himself against the wide partition and every word hit him like bullets.
"She's such a classy young woman, so bright and intelligent... fluent in several languages..." Hitchcock shook her head. "You should have seen him. Uncivilized, uncouth, he could barely grunt. I was shocked."
"It could be his brain isn't what she's interested in..."
"His physical prowess in bed cannot make up for his lack of social graces and common manners. He dropped his food all over the table and grunted like an animal," the snotty woman recoiled. "the way he was staggering, I wouldn't be surprised if he was on drugs or drunk..."
"A goldiggin' hillbilly is what he is..." Another guest from the table snorted.
"Brawn over brains," a surgeon noted, 'It wouldn't be the first time. It's odd for Gabby, though. Usually her paramours are wellbred and intelligent... polished, professional men."
"I was sure she was going to marry Clifford. They seemed so well matched."
"Ah, the gifted neurosurgeon..." Mrs. Hitchcock recalled, "Doctor Montgomery was so well suited for her. Handsome, intelligent and charming. To think she could sleep with that caveman... after being engaged to Clifford."
"She'll wise up," another voice laughed, "when she realizes he doesn't walk upright. They have nothing in common, it'll catch up with her soon."
"She'd better," Mrs. Hitchcock huffed, "The board doesn't approve of his kind. If she wants to become head of the department or advance in any way... she needs to associate with a better class..."
The cruel laughter slammed into his ears and the insults continued. His heavy legs took him on a blind path, the ugly taunts pushing him away. He didn't care who he bumped into, or how much his shoulder hurt. He heard her laughter and his head shot up. She was in the center of about eight people. Vin recognized the mayor from the picture on the program. Two senators and some of Brielle's colleagues completed the circle. They were discussing a breakthrough in the treatment for aneurisms. Two things struck his already wounded pysche. That as he listened to how easy the words fell from their tongues, the more lost he became. He couldn't understand anything they said. Then he saw her face, she was glowing. Her voice sang as she described the research she'd done. It hit him hard then, harder than a bullet would and sharper than a knife. They lived in two different worlds.
The air got too thick again and he made his way back to the large hallway . He spotted the red phone and thought of Caitlin. He made his way over and stared at it, trying twice to pick it up.
"Need some help?"
"Yeah," Vin rasped to a waitress passing by.
"Hold on, Sugar," She picked it up and waited. "Well, what number to you need, Honey?"
"I ain't sure... a friend of mine was in accident across town. She's in the ER..."
"Okay, hold on..." She dialed and asked for the ER, then look at the sad blues. "Sir?"
"Huh?" Vin blinked, "Sorry... uh... McKenna... Ryan... he's with 'er..."
"Ryan McKenna please..." She nodded and wrapped his fingers around the phone. "You got it?"
"Yeah, thanks Miss..."
"Charli," She winked, "You need anything else, you just holler."
"Water?" Vin choked, his throat past dry.
"Sure, hold on..."
"Hello?"
The voice drew Vin back and he took a shallow breath.
"Ryan? How's Cait?"
"They're keeping overnight for observation. I'm gonna let Grace visit with her a little more, then bring her home."
"She's okay?"
"Yeah, she'll be sore and have a headache for a few days..." He paused, wondering about the small voice on the other end. "Something wrong, Vin?"
"No... no... I'm jest tired... m'arms naggin' a bit..."
"You skipped the medicine?"
"Hadta," Vin muttered, thinking how much he needed one now, to escape. "They put me t'sleep." He heard a deep voice on a microphone in the other room and sighed. "Sounds like they're gettin' ready t'make the presentations. I'll see ya... later. Tell... Cait... and the little one... I's askin' fer 'em...'
"Vin, are you sure you're okay?" He wondered about the shaking voice and near whispered tone. His answer was dialtone. Something nagged at him... but the exhaustion and tension on the night's activity pushed it away.
Vin was trying to figure out which door was the best one to slip inside. A tap on the shoulder stopped him.
"You okay, Honey? You don't look so good."
"Thanks Charli," Vin nodded, taking the bottle of water, with a straw in it. He sucked half up in one gulp, causing her to laugh.
"When's the last time you had a drink?"
Vin shrugged and pressed the bottle against his face.
"Maybe I should get you a doctor?"
Vin laughed at that, at the irony of it.
"Funny, I was jest thinkin' the same thing. They're givin' m'... uh... Doctor Marquette an award. I can't find the right door."
"You stay with me, Honey," she took his left arm and led him to a side door. "Okay?" She pointed to the side of the dias.
"Yeah," Vin nodded, "thanks, Charli, fer everythin'. Yer the first friendly face I seen all night."
"I'll be around, you holler, here?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" He made his way inside and caught her eye. The smile she gave him lifted his waning spirits. It would have lit up the whole room... but it didn't dampen the flames of doubt that now roared to life in his bowels.
He found an empty table and sat down, sucking greedily on the water. His whole body ached and the lack of painkilles and food, left his energy level low and his body in pain. As each longwinded speaker got up to take a bow, he felt himself slipping away. Then her name was called and he thought he never saw anyone so beautiful. She radiated as she spoke, her voice full of grace and vitality. Then she turned towards him and smiled.
"...and I'd like to thank a very special young man, who taught me what the word love means."
"Aw, hell..." Vin mumbled as the spotlight and 500 pairs of eyes caught him. The light was blinding and made his already aching head explode. He panicked, when he got dizzy, and his throat locked. There was no air. He tried to escape it, as the voices seemed to fade away and the clapping turned to slow motion. He staggered badly, hitting the door with his bad shoulder.
"Vin!"
The voice in his ear was salvation. The small, strong hands snaking around his waist were worth their weight in gold. Bits and pieces of the heady scent she wore broke through his dense senses.
"Get me outta here!"
It wasn't a question, it was a command. She steered him straight and true, not stopping until the cold air greeted them. She got him to the bench outside and sat him down, squatting in front of him. She took his pulse and frowned, eyeing the damp curling hair sticking to his pasty face. The blue eyes were dull with pain.
"Are you going to pass out?"
"No... don't... think... so..." Vin gasped, sucking in air. "...sorry..."
"Don't be," She stood and pressed his head against her abdomen, rubbing his neck. "What's wrong?"
"...m'okay... jest tired... shoulder hurts a bit..."
"Just a bit?" She stroked the damp hair.
"Mebbe a little more than a bit..." He shivered, "I'm feelin' poorly... Can I go home now?"
She smiled at the 'little boy' voice.
"Bad day at school, Champ?"
"...got squatted next t'a bunch o'fuzzlebutts... .couldn't cut the fucked up chicken... was next t' witch with a stick up her butt... dropped the potatoes the hell all over... glass was slicker than Bucklin on silk sheets..." He felt the laughter rumble in her slim stomach against his face. "...s'not funny..."
"I know," She lifted his face and kissed him softly. "Better?" She held his head against her again and felt the damp nod. "I can't imagine what happened to Cait and Ryan. There not at home and not here. I hope..."
"Aw, hell..."
"Vin?" She lifted his face and saw him flinch. "What happened?"
"Accident... Cait was bringin' Grace home from a party... got hit by a drunk..."
"Oh My God!"
"They're okay... I talked to Ryan a couple times. She's banged up a little. The little one's okay. He didn't want to ruin yer night."
"Okay, I have to say some goodbyes and get my jacket. I'll be right back. Where are they now?"
"'cross town at a hospital..."
The cab ride was quiet. She got Ryan on the phone and even spoke to Cait. Brie got the driver to go through a fast food drive thru window. She made him eat a burger and a milkshake. He chewed without tasting, needing the sugar to take his dizziness away. Try as he might, the harsh conversation kept coming back... and sinking in.
"...truth hurts..." he whispered of the cruel words he'd heard all night and suddenly felt very inadequate.
"Did you say something?" She eyed the quiet man, who shook his head 'no'. "We're here..."
"I ain't feelin' s'good," he choked, suddenly unable to get words past the lump in his throat. "m'stomach ain't ready fer that hospital smell..."
"Would you rather go home? I'll come back with Ryan."
"I'm sorry," He lifted his casted, swollen fingers and touched her cheek. "God, yer beautiful..."
"Vin?" She felt her heart clinch, something in his eyes and voice gave her fear.
"Go on... I'll see ya in the mornin'..."
As the cab made it's way towards Gabrielle's house, he mulled on the strange hand Fate cast him this night. As his throbbing eyes gazed at the sky, it was befitting there were no stars.
What if that drunk didn't hit Caitlin? What if they'd arrived and been with him. What a difference it would have made. Having his family near, to talk to , laugh with and gain support from. The rude people at the table wouldn't have said one foul word. He wouldn't have overheard them talking about her and he'd not have seen the picture as it truly was. Alone, he felt invincible in her arms. In public, with her peers, in her world, he was lost. A stranger in a strange land. He loved her so much it hurt... but he couldn't stay with her.
It was late when Gabrielle got home. Ryan carried the sleeping child upstairs and stayed with her. The exhausted doctor took a quick hot shower and changed. Then she made a mug of herbal tea and left the main house, heading for the cottage. It was dark and she walked slowly, seeing the slim silouette on the bed. She put the mug down and found his pills.
"..took 'em..." Vin slurred.
"Here, I want you to drink this... it's herbal tea. It'll settle your stomach."
"..'kay..." Vin sat up and sipped about half the tea, as she updated him on Caitlin and the trip home.
"Vin?" She saw the eyes drifting and put the cup back on the nightstand. She went to move the damp hair from his face and he moved back. She felt his body stiffen and her face locked in puzzlement.
"Hey, what's wrong? Vin?"
Her only answer was his soft breathing. Maybe he was very tired, or in pain... or both. She chalked it up to the latter and pulled his blanket up.
"Goodnight, Baby," She whispered, kissing his slack lips. She made her way back to the house, shivering at something unknown caused a change in the air, and not due to the weather.
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