Setting: ATF Universe
Page 21
Buck's sleep was restless, tossing his large frame around the small bed. He couldn't settle down, his troubled dreams were spent wondering and worried about Vin's reaction. The decision was made to wait until he was physically stronger, before prodding him about his memory. From the initial questioning, he remembered only bits and pieces. A blackness with Chris screaming at him to "Go... get away and 'call Buck'. He did remember hearing Buck's voice and running... but no more, not until he woke up. It was here in the stealth of night, he allowed his fears to surface. In the dark, when no prying eyes could see his unrest. Despite the reassurances from J.D. and Chris, he still blamed himself. What of Vin? Jamie pumped him full of experimental drugs. God knows if there would be any lasting effect. He sighed and shifted again, inhaling deeply and trying to find peace in his sea of slumber.
"Pepperoni..." He mumbled, dreaming. The scent was intoxicating and making him thirsty. He sat up in the dark and padded to the bathroom, getting a drink. He saw Chris's head pop up and look after him.
"How 'bout a beer run?" the leader whispered, watching Buck approach.
"Don't tempt me," Buck replied. "Damn dream woke me up... never dreamed in smells before."
"Well, it must be a helluva dream, cause I smell it too!" Chris's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Pepperoni?"
The two exchanged an incredulous look and Chris eased his body out of bed. They padded across the room and stopped several feet away. It began as a shock, turned to chuckling and ended with Buck doubled over in laughter. Chris moved to Vin's side, his face split into a wide grin. Buck flipped the low light on, shaking his disheveled dark head in amazement.
"Jesus!" He marveled, eyeing the pizza box on the tray in front of Vin. Then he saw the sharpshooter's face and laughed harder. Sauce made a randy mustache and cheese lingered like a impromoto goatee. A half of a piece of pizza sat squarely on the slumbering man's chest, rising and falling with each wheeze. He saw the evil grin spread on Chris's face and the blond head dip towards the box.
"You hungry, Buck?"
"Always!" the other responded, picking up the box. They silently made their way to the visiting end of the room. Chris settled on a chair, while Buck got sodas, plates and napkins from the small area nearby with a mini-frig and cabinet.
"How the hell did he pull this off?" Buck's voice was full of admiration. "Hell, he don't even have a phone... or pockets for that matter!" he noted of the near naked body and the lack of cash. "Well," he flopped down and popped the lid, handing Chris a slice. The leader took a large bit and chewed with smug satisification. "Well?" Buck repeated, "Ain't you even curious?"
"Nope," Chris returned, taking another large bite and sloshing down a mouthful of Sprite. "I learned a long time ago, never to doubt the powers of Vin."
"Hell, this stunt would even make Ezra green..." Buck decided, scarfing down a slice. "I'll tell you what, that sorry-assed Texan knows his pizza." They munched happily for awhile, then Buck wiped his mouth and started to chuckle. He tapped Chris's leg. He motioned to the bed and Chris turned, then coughed over his own laughter.
"Aw, hell... " Buck frowned, "he didn't only get but half a piece. That's a shame..." he said of the sharpshooter's hand. Vin didn't open his eyes right away, his hand found his slice and he began chomping on the old, cold slice on his chest.
"No it isn't," Chris countered, grinning again as the 'blind' Tanner continued to munch. "You snooze, you lose. That'll teach his greedy ass to order pizza while we're sleeping."
"Hell," Buck sat forward, "I didn't think of that. That was a low down, onry thing to do..." He stood up, smiling as Vin's hand blindly snaked up to the tray over his bed, seeking the box. Buck hauled Chris up and they quietly walked over, each flanking the bed. The hand groped around frantically, the pale face screwed up in puzzlement. Finally, one eye peeled open, an angry brow following it.
"What the hell? What'd ya do with m'pizza?" He growled, sitting up and eyeing the sauce-smudged faces next to him. "Goddammit! Yer a low down pair o' bow-legged jackels... takin' a sick man's pizza whilst he's sleepin'."
"Low down?" Buck accused.
"Bow-legged jackel?" Chris hung over the bed, dangling the last slice before the watering mouth below. "Buck, what do you call somebody who waits until his friends are asleep and orders a pizza?"
"A no-account, greedy, pizza-guzzling pig!" Buck chimed, watching Vin's guilty mask.
"It weren't like that... ya fell asleep 'afore it happened... I was gonna share..."
"When?" Chris glared, swiping the slice past Vin's clawing hand.
"How'd you come by this pizza anyway?" Buck's eyes narrowed. "You got a phone hidden under there?" he tugged at the large sheet covering the irate body.
"Get the hell away!" Vin slapped at the hand. "It was a present..."
"From who?" Chris eyed the blue eyes darting towards the exit door. His own followed and Vin saw his goose was cooked.
"From the Environmental Technician..." he grumbled, eyeing the cleaning cart and trying to snatch the solo piece.
"Who?" Buck's face puzzled up for a minute. "The janitor? You got brass balls, Vin. That old retiree? He only makes a few extra bucks to compensate for his pension."
"He didn't pay fer it!" Vin tossed back angrily, "...and give me m'fucking pizza!" he took the slice from Chris. He munched and scowled at the two. "Least ya two cheap-assed thieves could'a sprung fer a drink. I'm barely able t'swalla..."
"What, didn't you order a soda too?" Chris quipped, pouring Vin a glass of water.
"I thought on it... guess I musta dozed off fer a minute... right before ya stole m'food..."
"Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Pal," Chris tossed back.
"Besides, it would have been a shame for it to get cold," Buck decided, "So who paid for it?"
"Vin?" Chris's eyes narrowed when he saw something he coudn't pinpoint flee Vin's blue eyes.
"Ezra" Vin answered the oppresive stare.
"Ezra?" Buck repeated, face wrinkled, "our Ezra?"
"No, the janitor's dog!" Vin rolled his eyes. He dropped his gaze for a moment, taking a few good breaths. "Turns out he gave the old guy money... told him t'care o'me... even gave him a list o'stuff..." Vin broke off his thought and swallowed hard. "Damn nosy Conman..."
"What kind of stuff?" Chris eyed the area and then lifted Vin's hand. "What the hell?" he eyed the familiar orange stain on the fingertips and got a flashback to Adam. "Cheese Jax?" he laughed, thinking of the chedder snack food.
"Where's your stash, Slick?" Buck lifted the sheet and picked up an empty bag, coated with orange cheese dandruff. "You're gonna be pukin' all over again. What the hell were you thinking?"
"...been thinkin' about real food..." Vin tossed back, "...broth and eggs and noodles... shit... feel fine... ain't gonna get sick..." He saw Buck moving towards the small cabinet near the side of the bed. "Get the hell away from there!"
"Damn!" Buck laughed, pulling out a bag with candy, pretzels and cookies. "All the food groups are well represented!"
"Looks like we hit the Mother Lode, Buck!" Chris moved in, snatching the bag.
"We?" Vin crowed, angry at his immobilized state. "Whaddya mean 'we'? Ya keep yer damn hands offa that. Goddammit Chris..."
"You say one more word and I'll tell Mollie," Chris threatened, a move which silenced the irate slight body. "I'll hold on to this until you're ready for it. Jesus, Vin..." he eyed the contents of the bag, "It's like a Haloween acid trip..."
The late hours and Vin's constant blinking caused the trio to break up the party. Buck gave Vin a soapy towel to get cleaned up and then made his way to his own bed. Chris threw the pizza box, sodas and evidence in a bag and placed it strategically on the bottom of the trash bin. Later, as the three were in darkness again, just as they were dozing off, the two older men heard a faint comment from the far side of the room.
"Aw, hell..."
A long moment of silence followed; then a series of coughs and moans ensued.
"Chris... I ain't feelin' s'good..."
Another pause and more coughs and gagging sounds. "Bucklin... ya there... I need a hand..."
"Do you hear something Buck?"
"Nah, must be one of them weird dreams again, Chris," The rogue responded in the dark, easing his body from the bed. He saw Chris struggling and gave him a hand silently.
"I ain't kiddin... Chris..Buck... somebody... help!"
The rest of the sentence was cut off by the unmistakable sounds of a stomach's upheaval. Before the two on their feet could act, the light came on and a body flew by.
"What's wrong, Love?" Mollie cooed, rushing to the struggling body in the bed. "Hold on... here ye are..." she moved a basin under his mouth and pulled his hair back. She saw the other two loitering at Chris's bed and her anger rose. "What's wrong with the two of ye, then? Yer poor Vin is sufferin' and ye stand there like two jackasses. Have ye lost the use of yer limbs as well as yer senses? The poor lamb is near death's door," she comforted the 'victim', giving him a drink after he rinsed his mouth out. The weak body rested against her, his blue eyes batting in a near-swoon state.
"Poor lamb!" Buck roared, face irate.
"...near death's door..." Vin agreed, nodding his head and snuggling against Mollie, his gloating face and smug grin out of her line of vision. "I'm feelin' awful dizzy..." He raised his eyebrow boldy, only fueling their fire.
"Is his own fault," Chris spat back, glowering at he smug face of his best friend. "He ate a shi... uh... a lot of junk. Pizza and cheesejax and candy and..."
"Yer a wicked pair of banshees to be spoutin' such tales," Mollie lashed back, rubbing Vin's back and letting him rest against her. "Are ye alright then, Love?"
"Did ye say somethin' Angel?" Vin rasped 'weakly', fluttering his eyes and trembling. "I can barely hear ya..."
"Now that does it!" Buck stormed over, glaring at the comforting nurse, "You don't for one minute believe this charade? You're worse than Ezra... he's got him all wrapped up too!"
"Charade is it?" Mollie defended her charge, nodding her head to the vomit-filled basin. "Does that look like a charade? Is he not shakin' all over from the effort?"
"He's shaking from the effort alright, but not the one you thinking" Chris turned back towards his bed. "Touche... Cowboy..."
"Bucklin... I think I need t'go..." Vin raised his arm up.
"You know where you can go," the sputtering agent replied, tossing a plastic urinal at the smirking Texan and heading for his own bed. "...and you can take this with you."
"Do ye need a hand?" Mollie asked, only to have the patient regain some of his strength miraculously.
"No!" Vin sounded, backing up and twisting. "Uh... I mean... I think I'll be okay," his lowered his voice and settled back into the bed. "Thanks Angel... sorry t'have bothered ya. Don't mean t'be a burden..." He raised his face smugly at Buck and then grinned as Mollie pulled the sheet up, patting his cheek.
"Yer not a burden," she replied, "Yer Me Bonny Vin... me very own Blue-eyed Angel..."
"Oh, I'm gonna be sick!" Buck lamanted, pulling the sheet over his head. Chris just laughed and gave the sharpshooter a half smile. Just when the Sandman was making his rounds, a drowsy drawl lingering in the darkness.
"Ya think they'll have pancakes an' them bitty sausages fer breakfast?"
"You're cruisin' for a brusin' Vin," Chris warned.
"...or a gag..." Buck promised, "Get that mangy head down and get to sleep!"
"Damn yer a cranky pair... must be hell gettin' old an' onry..." Vin decided, hearing Chris's colorful retort as the power of sleep overtook him.
Friday Afternoon, July 20th, Doctor's Lounge in the Old ER at St. Micheal's
"Any questons?" Major Kendra Taylor asked, directing her intense stare at the six men scattered around the table. The meeting between her team and the members of Team Seven had been to discuss Vin Tanner's discharge and his upcoming weeks of recovery. The emotional rebound would not be found without some tempermental outbursts and bouts with depression. That was normal for a man in Vin's position. Both the ARDS and the near fatal illness that ravaged his body, were more than enough to place a strain on the struggling patient.
"Just so you understand," Sandy leaned in, resting his arms on the table. "We've seen this before, so we're talking from experience. Sometimes patients come back great in a few weeks, for others, it takes longer. You can't force him; you have to give him plenty of time and space."
"...and an open hand," J.D. mused lifting his palm. He exchanged a warm grin with Buck, recalling their conversation on the beach.
"Exactly!" Kendra agreed, "He knows the road ahead won't be easy, and I get the impression he's not very patient." She smiled at the chuckling and head shaking in the group.
"Hah!" Ezra choked, nearly spitting out his coffee.
"I hear that, Ace," Buck agreed, "The words 'Vin' and 'patience' would get you all choked up."
"He's plenty patient when it counts," Chris's tone silenced the others. They all knew what he meant; Vin could sit in a tiny closed area in a loft for hours with a rifle scope to his eye. So efficient, he blended in with the background. He slowed his whole system down, breathing low and steady, zoning in on the focal point.
"Yeah," J.D. shook his head, "He's amazing. I couldn't squat hidden in tight space for hours like that and stay focused. He makes it look easy... Jeez." He shuddered, thinking on the mental stamina.
"It's as if he's invisible," Ezra recalled of the few times he'd been with the skilled sniper. "He just disappears, truly remarkable."
"Until it's time," Josiah agreed, "then he gets the job done. It's a helluva responsiblity, especially afterwards. It takes him hours to come back."
"Come back?" Sandy cocked his head.
"Vin usually has down time after a hit," Chris relayed, "Josiah's right, it's a helluva responsibility. He's the last line of defense and he takes that to heart. That kind of pressure builds up during those hours he's waiting in the dark. He's our guardian angel, high above, looking out for all of us. But when it's over, it takes him awhile to recharge. He's usually totally drained, emotionally and physically. It's his quiet time..."
"That inner strength you all have described is exactly what he'll need," Kendra observed.
"How did he take it?" Josiah asked of the earlier meeting the medical staff had with Vin. He was now with Mollie, having a late lunch in the afternoon sunshine just outside the ER.
"He seemed to understand, he was quiet." Sandy recalled.
"He's holding back," Chris replied, he'd been at the morning meeting with Vin and recognized the fleeting eyes. "It's hard for him to not be strong. He's a very active person. He runs five miles or more every morning. Most of his free time is spent pursuing very active sports. He thinks this fatigue is a sign of weakness; he's angry at his body betraying him."
"Wow," Kendra's sharp eyes looked at Chris with new respect. "You saw all that? You're good."
"I know Vin," Chris replied softly, sipping his coffee. "He'll be fine." He paused, lifting his lips into an evil grin. "I'll kick his ass if he doesn't."
"Well, then," Kendra said, sliding a list to Josiah. "That's the rehab schedule, for all three of them. The hospital pharmacy will fill the prescriptions. Also, I need to see all of them next Friday for a followup."
"They'll be there," Josiah replied, rising and shaking hands with the AMERIID folks.
"Listen," Chris said, shaking the strong hand of Major Kendra Taylor. "I want you to know how much your dedication meant to me. Your team was aces all the way; you should be very proud of them. I won't forget that... what you all have done... ever. I'm very grateful."
"Your welcome, Chris," she smiled, "I'm good at kickin' ass too!"
"Yeah," Chris grinned, "I can see that, Major. I'm glad you're on our side. Thanks again."
"Yer awfully quiet, Love," Mollie watched the thin young man picking at his food. "There's nothing wrong with being scared."
"I ain't yella!" Vin barked, flashing anger in his blue eyes.
"That's not what I said!" she bristled, giving it right back, "Ye watch yer tongue and don't be so brazen. Don't be puttin' words in me mouth," she warned and saw him relax, his shoulders slumped again.
"I'm sorry, Angel..." he murmured, peeling a banana. "I hate this." He tore into the fruit, attacking it relentlessly. "Fell asleep talkin' to Chris this mornin'..." he tossed the peel with distaste into the trash can. "Damn that fuckin' bitch to hell fer what she done..." he vented, letting out the pressure that had been building for the last couple days. A rather vivid dream of himself being strapped to a table and an evil scientist with flaming hair and a centipede woke up his two friends. He didn't stop screaming until he saw Chris's face in front of him. The look of sheer terror in the green eyes silenced his own screaming. Buck looked awful too, not able to produce a word. During the horrid coughing fit, with his two friends aiding him, small pieces of the story were given. That this evil woman, the pyschopath with a twisted mind, could cause such pain in his friends, made him furious. He'd been silent ever since, holding his anger and rage inside.
"Easy Love," Mollie cooed, watching him tremble with anger. His whole body was tense and the quaking arms ended in two fists. "How long have ye held that in? "
"...had a dream... couple nights back," Vin's raspy voice forced it's way past the grim line of Tanner teeth. He punched the wooden bench hard and his chest heaved in anger. "I wanted t'kill her... t' blow her head off... I wanted... I needed... shit!" he smacked the bench again.
"She's long gone and ye can't let her hurt ye like this. Do you not see? She's won then. Ye need to let out that anger, Vin, or she'll torment all yer nights. I know it's hard, yer memory is coming back in pieces, but ye've got a grand set of mates." She thought on the special group of six and how strong they were. Her smile softened, when she thought on one special man, with a rogue's smile and a kiss that took her back in time to her first love. She sighed and recalled the wonderful nights spent with Buck this week. Long walks and deep talks, fingers intertwined as they laughed. Stolen moments in the moonlight on this very bench, his kisses burning deep into her soul.
"Damn," Vin laughed, seeing the star-struck face and recognizing the dreamy look, "Bucklin strikes again!"
"He's grand," She blushed, dropping her head. "I've not felt like this since... well... in quite some time."
"He's a good man," Vin looked away and shivered, feeling Buck's strong arms on his shoulders. How many times had that happened? Buck was always there with those strong arms, that booming laugh and that great heart. "He's... special..."
"Yer pretty special yerself," she kissed his cheek and brought up a nice blush. "It's nice to have yer color back," she teased and took his hand. "I'm a better person for the knowin' of ye, Vin Tanner and that's a fact."
"Hey now," Buck strolled over and eyed the intimacy. Intervening at the right moment, when he saw Vin struggling. "Invalid or not, you keep your tongue away from my woman, Slick!"
"She's too good ya," Vin rasped, still reeling from his uneven emotional storm. He let Buck pull him up and turned to give Mollie a warm hug. "Angel... I... can't remember exactly... but I got these feelin's deep down... when I was lost, dyin'... yer hand was the only thing there... I clung t'ya... that light... yer light... was all I had. Damn this ain't comin' out right!" He kicked the bench and his face scowled.
"Hey, watch that temper," Buck teased and rested a large hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "Ya need more time?"
"I... yeah, thanks Buck." Vin offered and took a deep breath, his eyes filling. He lifted his face, full of hope. The overflow of tenderness shone brightly from his eyes and Mollie gasped softly, taking his face in both hands.
"Yer Chris warned me about those lovely eyes... God in Heaven is any girl safe in Denver?"
She heard Buck laugh and smiled at the handsome man. "Vin, ye've been thankin' me all week. Ye gave me back just as much. I'll never ferget ya... yer such a brave Lad... Yer welcome." She kissed his forehead and pulled him into a hug.
"Buck!" Vin hissed, wagging his fingers.
"Somethin' on your mind, Vin?" Buck teased, wearing an impish grin.
"Don't fu... uh... mess around..." Vin scowled, craning his neck to see where Buck's other hand was.
"Buck..." he warned and saw the hand emerge.
"Before all your feathers get ruffled," Buck laughed, "Here... go on," he urged, "Don't embarass me now..."
"Since when did ya need help there?" Vin returned, taking the pastel colored gift bag. "Here," he offered the pretty present to the curious caregiver. "It's not much... compared t'what ya gave me... it ain't hardy nothin'... but... well... Thanks... fer savin' m'life..."
"Jesus," Buck chuckled of the stumbling offering, "...and to think Ezra says you're eloquent."
"Shut the hell up!" Vin chuckled, smacking Buck's arm. "...s'that eloquent enough fer ya?"
Mollie blushed and sat down, letting the bag rest on her lap. She pulled the pastel tissue paper apart, noticing the great care that was taken wrapping it. Glittering pastel ribbons cascaded down form the handles and a small note card said simply "To Angel, from yer Vin". She traced the lettering and felt tears welling.
"It's lovely," she gasped. "Ye did a beautiful job wrapping it..."
"Him?" Buck choked, "You don't see huge globs of glue on brown paper to do you?"
"She don't need t'hear about that!" Vin snapped, face turning crimson, "...'sides that was a long time ago, I didn't have no tape and I was injured."
"You had a cold!" Buck's eyes lit up as he remembered the sorry package that arrived in work on rainy day for Josiah's birthday lunch. Josiah's stone face stared so hard at the shoddy wrapped box, Vin nearly died on the spot. Then one lip turned up, then another and the great body shook with laughter. He cuffed Vin on the neck and mentioned that it was the only gift wrapped with love. The others, of course, didn't see it quite like that. The bumpy, bulky converted brown bag with dark stains where glue leaked through had become a favorite source of Vin needling. Ezra took a special delight in the chore, often leaving brown bags on Vin's desk.
"Oh..." Mollie's voice died in her throat as she lifted a white lid off a small box. The object inside took her breath away. With trembling fingers, she lifted the silver chain and through a waterfall, eyed the beautiful silver claddagh suspended before her. The two hands holding a heart with a crown upon it had become a popular symbol of friendship, loyalty and love. "It's beautiful... I've never seen the likes of one so fine... amethyst?" She whispered of the heart shaped stone cradled in the hands dotted with Marquisites. "Me birthstone," she noted of the pale purple gemstone, "How did ye know?"
"I asked," Vin managed, his heart soaring at the fact his small gift had stolen her breath..
"See how your taste has improved since I've been influencin' you?" Buck bragged, not missing the quality of the jewelry or the shine in Vin's blue eyes. "You done good, Son!" he whispered, clapping the younger man on the shoulder and getting a winning Vin smile as a reward. He drank that grin in, carefully tucking it away to savor it later.
"Ezra helped," Vin added, "...aside from the pretty wrappin's..."
"Them soft hands of his do come in handy," Buck grinned, pulling the weeping Mollie into a gentle embrace. "Hey now, you can't get tear stains on the boy's gift," he teased, using his finger to remove the salty streaks. "Here," he took the necklace and unclasped it, then moved behind her, clasping it around her neck. "Now that is magnificent!" he boomed, moving in front of her and eyeing the beautiful pendant.
"Ye better be talkin' about me claddagh!" she warned, following his gaze and getting the mighty Buck to blush. This gave Vin such a fit of laughter, it caused a coughing spell. After many frantic minutes of backclapping and Vin putting his inhaler to use, he waved off the assistance.
"...m'okay now... thanks..." he gasped, taking careful breaths. "I seen that fer the first time last year," he nodded to the Irish design. "Remember Buck, when Mike Ryan and his wife rehitched?"
"Renewed their vows," he corrected, "Yeah, that was some party."
"Mike Ryan?" Mollie asked, still admiring the pretty gift.
"He's a leader on another team," Vin replied, "Next to Chris, none better. He's a helluva guy."
"I'll second that," Buck agreed, "Mike gave Annie a new wedding band, a claddagh, during the ceremony. It had her birthstone as the heart. He told us the story behind the design; the man who was enslaved created it as a symbol of his loyalty to Ireland."
"Well," Vin said, taking the hand Mollie offered and squeezing it, "I got t'thinkin' on what ya done. Ya know them first days... I don't recall much... lots of darkness... bein' trapped... lost... alone. That was the worst feelin'... " Vin shuddered and sighed, "But then an angel was there... a sweet voice... like nothin' I ever heard... guidin' me... holdin' me... healin' me... " he decided. "So I called Ezra and he done the rest. Ya see Angel... t'me... ya held m'heart in the palms of yer hands... and I ain't never gonna... " He turned and walked a few feet away, dropping his head and trying to compose himself. Mollie went to follow and Buck shook his head, pulling her back. Vin finally returned, hands shoved in his pockets. He nodded to the bag. "... ya best dig a little more..."
"More?" Mollie shook her head, "Vin you didn't have to..."
"Wasn't 'cause I had to," Vin stated firmly, "I wanted to... s'important."
"Angel My Own," Mollie read on the framed poem that was handprinted and framed in sky blue.
"Your chicken scratch is improvin' Slick!" Buck commented, reading over Mollie's shoulder.
"Ye wrote this?" Mollie's eyes widened and her voice was stunned. She saw Vin blush and nod, smiling shyly. "Fer me? Saints in heaven..."
"No, that ain't the crowd Vin hangs with," Buck chuckled, "He's 'laughin' with the sinners..."
"Would ye read it?" Mollie handed the framed artistry to the shaken Texan.
"Angel My Own," Vin began. "By Vin Tanner..." He took a deep breath and began.
"I've heard about the Angels wings
Spun from hope and sewn with faith;
bound by love and lighter than the wind.
I've heard about how Angels sing
sweet and pure; radiant joyful music
born of God's hand and echoed so
beautifully in every Child's laugh.
I've heard about the strength that Angels bring
God's first team of sentinels, fierce and strong
They guard the souls of all of Adam's children
Using their protective shields to keep safe the fold
I've heard how Angels protected the newborn King
Surrounding a manger on a cold winter's night
Those mighty wings unfurled, unleashing a powerful light
A glorious chorus sent heavenward, praising the sight.
To be lost and alone in the dark is a terrible thing
I was drowning in a river so black, it defied time and space
Just when Death tried to steal my last breath away
I felt those strong wings chase Death away.
They cradled my wayward soul, shivering and cold
Giving me hope when my fear was untold
Wrapping me in faith and keeping me safe
I felt like God had caressed my face.
It was then that I dared to reach out in the abyss
I heard a faint sound, sweet, sure and true
The lyrical melody lit up my shadow world
The voice and the notes healed my fragile soul
Angel my own, you harkened the call
Angel my own, your wings broke my swift fall
Angel my own, your song gave me faith
Angel my own, you'll stay in my heart"
For a moment, the only sound was Mollie's sobbing. Vin stood unsure, the poem shaking slightly in his trembling hands. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. Then the dark-haired nurse as in his arms and his face broke into a wide smile. He saw Buck's beaming face and didn't duck when the large hand ruffled his hair.
"Damn Vin, how the hell am I gonna top that?" Buck praised, "Didn't I tell you I rubbed off on that boy?" He saw Josiah wave from the doorway, indicating that the medical team was leaving.
"Vin, the Major and Sandy are getting ready to leave, then we'll be headin' out."
"Oh," He pulled back from the shaken nurse. "I wanna say goodbye... Angel..."
"Don't" she covered his lips with her fingers. "I'll be doin' the thankin' Me Bonny Vin... and I'll treasure this always." She kissed his cheek and kept the gifts close. The necklace that rested over her heart, the poem that now rested inside it and that beautiful Tanner smile that filled it. She kept her eyes on him until he disappeared inside, then let Buck hold her close.
"Why didn't ye tell me he had such talent?" she murmured against his chest. She sighed as the strong hand caressed her spine and the lips brushed the crown of her head.
"He can paint pictures with words," Buck said softly, thinking of all the poems Vin had tucked away in his ledgers. "Of course, if you want to hear real talent, I'll find an Open Mic Night in town. Talent, looks, sex appeal, I got it all..."
"...and humble too... God save us all." Mollie laughed, lifting her face for a kiss. It lingered and gave her chills all over, enough to make her shiver. "I better go, I've got me report to finish."
"Don't wear yourself out," Buck warned, nuzzling her neck. "I've got a moonbeam reserved with your name on it... some wine and sweet dreams..." he released her, "I'll pick you up at seven."
Josiah slammed the door of the rented Dodge Caravan and headed a few miles up the coast. J.D. was dropped off first, carrying a list for the computer store and the record store. Ezra and Josiah were next, each bearing a long list of groceries, household goods and other items needed for their stay. Buck took the wheel, promising to return in a half hour after he dropped the two injured men off. They had a lot of groceries and beer and wine to buy. Finally, the trio was alone and Buck nodded to the bag at Chris's feet.
"A little gift from the F.B.I.," he said as the blond picked it up and opened it.
"Our wallets?" Chris was surprised as he eyed the three leather items.
"The Kid took his this morning when we hit the airport to get the others. Everything's still in there, even the cash." Buck pulled up a sandy road and stopped next to a house that could be cover shot for Beach Dream House Magazine. Chris glanced at the house through the window, whistling in awe.
"That's a house," he noted of the large, handsome structure. A huge porch wrapped around the second floor. It was filled with furniture and underneath the massive expanse were several recreational vehicles, a large gas grill, a large electric grill and other equipment. "How'd you find this place?"
"I needed to find it, Chris," Buck said quietly, eyeing the tide rolling in and inhaling the seabreeze. "I... we all need to heal."
"Buck, you can't afford this," Chris wondered aloud, "Five weeks?" He recalled of the 'little shack I found' that Buck mentioned a couple days earlier.
"Orin called a favor in," Buck replied, "His old partner is a big shot in a law firm in Philly. He didn't rent it out this summer. It was available and he was really fair with the price. It's important to me, Chris, okay?"
"Okay, Buck," Chris nodded, suddenly seeing a vunerability in the tall man that he should have looked for sooner. "You get the bags, I'll wake Sleeping Beauty."
"Huh?" Vin blinked on cue, yawning and scratching his chest. He peered out the window at the magnficent home and yawned again. "We havin' lunch with Bill Gates?" he asked of the weathy man.
"No, we're home," Chris replied, "For five weeks anyhow. Nice digs, huh?"
"Home?" Vin scowled, recalling Buck's casual mentioning of the rented space. "What the hell was he thinking? Christ, he ain't got that kind of dough... Five weeks..." he gripped the door to vent his anger.
"Leave it alone, Vin." Chris warned, turning to the backseat where the Texan had been sleeping. "You're not the only one who needs to heal. He's been hurtin' since Frank was murdered. That man was like a father to him. Hell, he was still strapped in the chair when Buck had to ID him. He's had to live with that, then all of us getting kidnapped and tortured in his name. Has he once, during all of this, thought of himself? This is important to him Vin... let him heal."
"Shit," Vin hissed, sitting back and shivering as the air conditioner blasted him. "I didn't think o'that. Why the hell didn't I think o'that? He must think I some kind of jerk. I ain't never once asked him how he was doin'. Jesus..."
"Let me tell you something about Buck Wilmington," Chris said in a tone that commanded all of Vin's attention. "There isn't another man breathing that I admire more. For twelve years, Vin, he's always been there. Every time I was wounded, it was his face over the bed. When I met Sarah, married her, Adam's birth, their deaths, forming the team. Buck only knows how to give, he never takes. Those first few days we were brought in the ER, I was in a bad way. Every time I managed to crack an eye open, it was his face there. His hands chasing the fever away, his hands holding my head to drink, his hand holding mine and scaring nightmares away. He's hurting Vin, I've never seen him wounded like this. You tell me, if some lunatic murdered a man you cared that much for and started maiming friends in your name, how the hell would you handle it?"
Vin thought for a moment as Buck's legs jogged down the stairs and came towards the car. He saw the familiar Wilmington grin and sent one back. "Well, Cowboy, I reckon God picks only a few folks to give them special hearts too. I ain't never seen the likes of someone as unselfish as Bucklin. Don't think I know anyone stronger neither. But he'll have both my hands, count on it."
Vin offered as Buck opened the door.
"Get your scrawny ass out here and help carry some of that stuff upstairs. Your arm ain't the one in a sling," Buck ordered of Vin, hauling him out of the vehicle.
"I'm weak and barely off m'death bed... " Vin tried, only to be silenced by a lightweight duffle bag hitting his chest.
"I think that line's worn itself out, Vin," Chris tossed, climbing out of the car. "Go ahead, we'll be fine," Chris called to Buck, "See you at dinner."
Chris climbed the stairs and since he was out of Vin's line of vision and the others were gone, he let the pain sit on his face. The Major warned him about the sudden headaches and blackouts from the concussion. His head was screaming and he slid the glass doors off the large porch open. He eyed the peach, cream and sage green living room, admiring the nautical touches. He found the kitchen, large, airy and pleasant. He needed water and ice... lots of it and banged his shoulder against the door.
"Fuck!" he hissed, clenching his eyes shut as the twin pains screamed for his attention. He felt the room spinning wildly and managed to get to a chair at the kitchen table. He gripped the edge of the table with his free hand, keeping his eyes shut tight.
Vin dropped both duffle bags in the living room. He stood in amazement for a few seconds, waiting for reality to sink in. The large living room had several oversized peach and beige sofas, a recliner chair and beautiful seascape paintings on the walls. A sixty inch television sat against one wall, with a DVD player as well. He saw a narrow hallway off the massive living room and figured the bedrooms were back that way. A set of steps led upstairs to a second floor. A large loft was on one side and several doors on the other. He was headed towards the kitchen to find Chris, when a voice stopped him.
"Hey sweet cheeks..."
"That your idea of a joke?" Chris gritted to Tanner.
"That wasn't me," Vin defended, "like I'd get that desperate. Yer gonna hurt yerself in them tight pants." He wandered back into the living room towards a cage.
"This from a true fashion assassin," Chris sent back, trying hard not to pass out.
"Hey!" he shouted, not realizing his loud voice was hitting Chris like bullets. "There's a bird in here. Ya know them white ones with the punk haircut? Like the one that old-timer has on the cop show on TV Land."
"Jesus, Vin," Chris grunted, remembering Baretta when it was in it's prime, "you make me feel old."
"Hey there fella," Vin tried, approaching the cage. He quickly found out he was not welcomed. The bird went crazy, shrieking and moving around the cage. "I ain't gonna hurt ya... take it easy."
"Vin..." Chris clenched, his head beyond pain and into a dangerous area, "Shut that fuckin' bird up."
"...the hell's wrong with him," Vin continued, "...flappin' his wings the hell all over. Like t'be havin' a seizure or somethin'"
The loud shrieking bird was bad enough, adding torment to his misery. But the word 'seizure' brought back a haunting vision of Vin's limbs twisting, his body bucking and foam spilling out beneath the ventilator. The agony in his body exploded, sending a tidal wave of molten lava through his skull.
"Vin shut that fuckin' bird up and leave him the Hell alone or I'll shoot both of you!"
Vin froze in his tracks, easily hearing Chris reaching the brink of his sanity. Sighing, he placed a cover over the cage and the bird immediately quieted. He tred softly into the kitchen, frowning as he saw the twisted Larabee features. He turned on the tap and got a tall glass of ice. Filling the glass, he pulled Chris's pills from the yellow bag Buck left on the sink. He slid a pill over to Chris, who took it quickly with a large gulp of water. Vin eased his best friend from the chair and led him to the first bedroom he came to. He turned the sheet back and sat Chris down. By the time he drew the shades, the blond was asleep. Vin pulled his legs from the floor and onto the bed. He pulled the sheet up and eyed the dark room, wary of light ramming into the tender skull. He pulled Chris's duffle bag in, then filled a large container of water. The quart bottle had a snap on lid and straw built in. He sat it on the bedstand next to Chris and went to leave, when his frail lungs constricted. He took several deep breaths, fumbling for his inhaler. He sat down on the floor, too dizzy to go any further. He rested his back against the bed, easing his head on the edge.
It was dark when Chris woke up and through cracks of green ice, he spotted a large water container. He drank a good bit and eased his head back onto the pillow. His hand brushed against something that didn't belong on the edge of the bed. His fingers moved again and encountered more hair, then flesh. He opened his eyes just wide enough to see a body next to him on the floor. What the hell was Vin doing on the floor?
"Get off the floor! You're not a damn dog." He wanted to tell the injured man, but his lips wouldn't work.
He decided to rouse him and rested his hand on the sweat-soaked white tee shirt.
It was nearly sunset when the others returned. J.D. bounded up the stairs and up to the loft, depositing his software, games and other paraphenalia by the computer. Josiah, Ezra and Buck took the packages into the kitchen. Ezra chilled some wine and eyed the area. He was stunned by the magnificent house and walked around the first floor, admiring all the subtle touches. Buck returned to the living room and took the cloth off the cage. The bird belonged to the real estate agent. She was picking him up in the morning.
"Hey sweet cheeks..."
"I beg your pardon?" Ezra turned around and saw Buck grinning next to a large white bird.
"You don't get the honey unless I get the money..." the bird called out, giving Buck a proud grin.
"Good Lord," Ezra shook his head, "...as if you sired him..."
"Who said that?" J.D. called down, "Awesome, that's so cool..."
"He's leavin' in the morning. He belongs to the lady I rented this from. He's got a pretty colorful vocabulary."
"Vin and him will get along fine," J.D. laughed, "Hey, where is Vin?"
"I was getting to that..." Ezra murmured, moving back to the hallway and pointing.
"Well, would you look at that," Buck said softly, eyeing the dedicated pair. "Whose guarding who?" He wondered aloud of the young man on the floor, protecting his injured friend in the bed, whose hand was gripping the seated figure's shoulder.
"Watchin' each other's backs," Josiah grinned, leaning against the doorframe.
"I think that picture sums up their relationship rather well," Erza said. "But if we do not rouse Mr. Tanner, his neck will be stiff."
"Yeah," Buck agreed, moving in to wake Vin.
"Let me," a voice behind him said.
"Vin... Vin... wake your sorry ass up."
"Huh?" Vin croaked as someone shook him. He blinked at the figure, illuminated by the light from the living room.
"Your the whitest white boy I've seen in some time."
"Shut the hell up, Nate," Vin growled, still half asleep. "Quit pawin' me," He tried to fight off the arms that pulled him up. "I ain't no... Nate?" his head jerked up and his sleepy eyes opened fully. "Nate! Nate! Damn yer here... yer walkin' and everythin'... Ya okay? Shouldn't ya be lyin' down or somethin'... Damn I'm sorry... Nate... I missed ya..." Vin hugged his friend, who he still felt guilty about letting get so seriously wounded. The burst of words caused a coughing fit and he doubled over, breathing hard.
"Where's your inhaler?" the dark-skinned agent demanded. Josiah and Ezra flew out of Denver the night before, but Nate had a doctor's appointment. He'd caught a plane this morning and just arrived. They'd prepared him for the weight loss and pale skin, but Vin still wore dark circles and his pallor was horrid. It shook Nate up to see his active, normally tanned and toned friend so worn.
"I dunno... I... shit..." Vin began to tremble, his anxiety causing him to lose his breath.
"Cease that immediately!" Ezra commanded, handing Vin the inhaler where he picked it up from the floor. He felt Vin grasp his forearm in panic and made no move to remove it. He remained by his side, with Nathan on the other side. Finally, with their voices coaching him, he found his air and staggered out of the room. He didn't want to wake Chris up.
"Thanks." He gasped to Ezra. "Sorry..."
"For what?" Nate asked, "You gotta cut that out, Vin. We're all here to help you, that's what friends do. You ain't gotta keep apologizin'"
Vin studied the easy features of Nathan Jackson and couldn't help return the smile. He let his eyes slide around the room, watching the others interact. Josiah and Buck were getting beers and beverages for everyone; Ezra was trying not to kill the bird who seemed to direct x-rated comments solely at him. J.D. was watching Sportscenter on TV. They were all together; they were alive and it felt damn good.
"You okay?" Nate asked, seeing the readible Tanner face melting into strong emotion.
"Never better," Vin crowed, taking a rootbeer from Buck. "Thanks... what's fer supper? I'm starved."
"We're gonna fire the grill up," Josiah said, heading for the door. "Hot dogs, burgers and chicken. We got plenty of salads..."
"Salad?" Vin wrinkled his nose.
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, there's plates and stuff that need to be unpacked," Buck said, taking the meat from the frig.
"Ya know I'd be the first t'pitch in, Bucklin," Vin said somberly. "But I'm barely..."
"...off my death bed," Ezra and J.D. chorused, causing the Texan to frown.
"They got no sympathy, Nate," Vin huffed, "Fine lot o'friends..."
"That's okay, Vin," Nate chuckled, hauling Vin to his feet. He grabbed Vin's drink and walked slowly beside the frail figure. "I'll stick by you..."
"...'preciate it, Nate," Vin headed for the large table in the dining area. The windows in the room gave a beautiful panorama of the beach, ocean and setting sun. He passed the cage and the bird's head bobbed anxiously.
"Hey sweet cheeks..."
"Ezra, that bird's got the hots for you," J.D. called through the room.
"As flattered as I would be," the Southerner drawled, sipping a glass of chablis, "that creature has directed his commentary towards our favorite Texan's peeking posterior."
"Huh?" Vin froze and heard the others laughing. His hand reached behind his back and he realized his loose shorts slipped down, exposing a ample portion of his backside. "Aw, hell..."
"...slip me some meat... slip me some meat..." the bird cackled, bobbing it's head at the flushing sharpshooter.
"I'm gonna slip ya on a spit and shove stuffin' up yer ass in a minute..." he declared loudly, causing the startled bird to back up.
"Charming," Ezra winced, then smiled as Vin's hand moved and his shorts slid down again. "You do have a way with words, Vin."
"Makes ya wonder about the owner," Vin shook his head.
"Somebody spackle that crack before it gets worse," J.D. hollered, and saw Vin wheel around, his hand grabbing the errant shorts.
"Dammit," He muttered, glaring at the laughing group. "Who bought these fuckin' things anyhow?"
"I did," Buck moved next to the angry invalid, "A cute little ass like that needs showin' off..." He grinned and yanked down the sagging shorts, exposing Vin's ass to one and all.
"Goddammit Buck!" Vin shoved away and pulled his shorts up, he felt someting bust open inside; a Pandora's box of emotions spilled forth. "Leave me the fuck alone!" He roared and felt his chest constrict, giving way to the horrid coughing.
"Easy now, Vin," Buck coached, waving the others back. "Here," he fished his hand in Vin's pocket and handed him the inhaler. "That's it, you're okay," his voice was steady and his hand remained on Vin's shoulder. Finally the shaking body began to breathe again and he dropped his head.
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