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: I want to thank the kind, generous and understanding editor, aka KET, for effortlessly going through this with her red pen. Thanks Pard, you got no idea how relieved I am to have my 'assets' covered. I am very very grateful, KET, thanks a million.
Through the tinted frames of the glasses that remained on despite the lack of harsh sun, he eyed the almost magical scene. The sky was that shade of blue that no artist can ever recreate. It comes at dusk, often accompanied by slashes of rose, magenta or crimson. Underneath the resplendent blue rendering were a cluster of mountains, their peaks cresting into the deep pink score of the sky.
As if sensing one of her favorite sons returning home to her bosom, Mother Nature blew a soft kiss. It sailed through the pine trees, past the winding drive and over the long white fence. It skipped over the moving vehicle and into the window, brushing his face. He inhaled deeply, nearly moaning at the almost heady aroma that only Mother Nature could wear.
It was beautiful here. Chris was right. During the plane ride to this place, his temporary home, the blond told him the history of the pre-Civil War stone farmhouse and the glorious acreage that surrounded it. His ears had perked up at the mention of horses and that gave his best friend a smile.
But riding horses wasn't on his mind now. Anxiety and anxiousness rebelled in his tender skull. The doctor warned him today would be difficult. The first day home from the hospital was never easy. Add a long plane ride and then another long car ride and his entire body was worn out, especially his head which was screaming. It didn't help that he'd spent most of the plane ride forcing his fuzzy brain to go on a scavenger hunt. He'd searched high and low, hoping something would turn up the key to his box of memories.
It didn't work.
All he got out of his efforts was a horrendous headache. The pain throbbed mercilessly, even causing his eyes to want to jump from his face. His stomach acids were conducting Olympic trials and he grimaced. His slim fingers curled around the paper in his hand. He sighed deeply, rested his face against the glass and let his burning eyes shut for a moment.
Chris's eyes shifted to the right and he didn't miss Vin Tanner twisting his plane ticket jacket into a pretzel. The knuckles were white and he saw the lines in that squared jaw clench several times. Under those long lashes, behind the aviator frames, he'd seen the agony riding in the sky eyes before they shut.
He knew Vin was in pain, and the weeks that were ahead of him wouldn't be easy. The concussion was a bad one and the doctor warned of bad headaches, dizzy spells and blackouts. Plus, Vin still had therapy ahead, physical for his back and emotional for the trauma.
Trauma.
Chris thought on his best friend. Vin Tanner was the strongest man he knew and also the most vulnerable. A very odd combination. Vin kept his hurts buried deep, perhaps too deep. He didn't doubt that until they met, the Texan harbored all his worries, guilt and fear deep inside. He hoped, in the time since, that he'd helped to alleviate some of that weight. Their quiet talks at the ranch, and especially at that old cabin, seemed to help ease the pain. He hoped their time here would mirror that. They both needed to heal and the love that supported this special place was just the right medicine. He moved his hand over, giving Vin's denim clad knee a squeeze of support.
Twice as she drove the car up the long, winding path towards the stone farm house she'd called home for these forty years, Kate eyed the rear view mirror. She saw the pain in her son's green eyes and it made her heart ache. Like most mothers, she'd sacrifice her own pain to take his away. But following that intense gaze, she knew his pain was for another. Would the sweet air in the meadows and mountains around their home be the elixir? Would the love and care she and Adam would surround their boys with be enough? What if Vin Tanner's memory didn't return? How could she take the pain from Chris's eyes? She slowed at the entry to the carport and let her hand rest on the ignition. A strong hand took her small one and held it tight. She moved her pale eyes sideways and fell into those dark ones.
"Home, sweet home." Adam kept his grip on her hand, trying to take her worry away. "No place on earth like it," he vowed, reading her mind.
"You boys stay put. I want to unlock the door and get the lights on," she assessed, taking the key from the ignition. "Everybody okay back there?"
"Fine, Mom," Chris sent back and nudged Vin's leg.
"Huh?" Vin blinked and realized they weren't moving. "Oh... uh... I'm okay, Kate."
"Did you talk to Jack?" Adam asked her about their neighbor. "Is he bringing Maggie over?"
"Maggie?" Vin mouthed silently, furrowing his brows.
"She's inside," Kate nodded, slipping out of the car.
"I can't wait to see her," Adam exuded, gingerly easing his tall body from the seat and standing on his good leg. He moved a few feet away, holding onto the car until he reached a sturdy post. Then he stretched, rubbing his back.
"Who's Maggie?" Vin asked, unlocking his door.
"A gorgeous redhead..." Chris grinned, opening his door and wincing as he eased his legs out. He braced his hands against the door jamb and stood, eyeing the pine bench nearby. He took several good gulps of the wonderful fresh air and stretched, keeping his injured leg off the ground.
"That's it, git yer Ma riled up 'afore we even git inside." Vin shook his head.
"Shut up Tanner," Chris hissed, pulling his body forward. "Anyway, you'll love Maggie. Silky hair, long legs and liquid brown eyes."
"Yeah?" Vin eyed the door at the end of the stone walk. He saw it open and Kate's slim legs moving. He slipped his glasses off and tucked them into the pocket of his denim jacket.
He fingered the worn fabric and saw the gold-toothed grin of the southerner. Buck had a spare set of Chris's keys that included a key to his own place. Ezra had borrowed them and packed some of his things, sending them overnight to the house on the base the Larabee's had rented. He thought perhaps that if he had his own clothes, comb, some cassettes and other personal things, it might spark Vin's memory. It hadn't, at least not yet, but that Ezra would have done that for him, gone to all that trouble, had really choked him up.
"Oh, yeah," Chris sent back.
"What is it about the words 'stay put' that you didn't understand?" she grilled, hands on her hips. "No weight... you heard that doctor," she hissed, opening the back of the wagon and pulling two sets of crutches out. "I should toss them in the corral and let you crawl in."
"Aw, Kate, that car was like prison. Besides, I didn't go far..." Adam protested weakly, lifting a hand out for his crutches.
"I can't stand being trapped in a car... I needed to stretch my back..." Chris tried and got swatted.
"I shouldn't have wasted my breath." She handed Chris his crutches and bent to shut the door.
"I listened, Kate," Vin rasped, smiling angelically.
"Well, it's nice to see one of my boys respects me." She walked around the car and opened the door. "Are you okay, honey?" she fretted, seeing the pinched features in a face all too pale.
"Jest tired," Vin managed, standing up and accepting her warm smile.
"Well, you don't look well to me." Kate shut the door and eased the strap of Vin's bag over her shoulder. "After you eat, you're going right to bed. I have a whole list from that doctor..." Her voice trailed off as she walked slightly in front of him towards the house.
"Hey? What about me?" Chris struggled to get to his feet.
"Honey, I can't reach my crutches," Adam called over.
"Well, now that is strange!" Kate turned around, eyeing the two men she loved so much. "Five minutes ago, you two couldn't get out of that car fast enough. Use some of that energy..."
"I listened, Kate," Chris parroted under his breath of the younger man's drawl. He saw Vin's lips quirk up and struggled hard, but he got to his feet and moving.
Vin paused, turned slowly and walked carefully to the car. He picked up the General's crutches and handed them to the struggling older man.
"Give ya hand, Sir?"
"Thanks, son." Adam stood, got his crutches situated and nodded. "...and it's Adam, remember?"
"Sorry..." Vin paused, letting him get ahead. He caught up to Chris and they headed for the door.
"Maggie!"
Vin stopped when the General's voice boomed through the air.
"I forgot to tell you, Vin," Chris smirked. "Maggie's a real outgoing girl. Affectionate, you know? She likes long, sloppy wet kisses..." He stopped and watched Vin's eyes panic. "...and she's gonna loooove you, cowboy." He moved past and heard that raspy drawl, causing his smile to widen.
"Aw, hell..."
"No, honey," Kate corrected her blond son when he moved through the foyer towards the wide pine stairs that led to the upper floor. "You're in the guest room. You can't handle all those stairs."
Vin was several feet behind Chris and paused in the yard. He moved past the stone walls and slowly walked to the edge the building.
"Wow..." he murmured, eyeing the glorious expanse of grass, trees and sky. The whinnying of horses drew his eyes to the barn. As much as he wanted to visit the barn, it was a good distance from where he stood and there was too much open ground between them. Instead, he eased his body down onto a small stone fence post and let his thirsty eyes drink in the majesty before him.
"Where's Vin?"
"He's around somewhere," Chris replied. "Just open some chocolate, he'll find us."
Save the television hidden in an oak armoire in the corner, they could have been sitting in 1870. Pewter candlesticks held ivory tapers. Homemade pottery sat on knotted pine tables and on the shelves on the walls. Two period paintings also graced a room that was warm and inviting.
"That's not funny!" Kate swatted her son who was snuggled in a hunter green leather recliner in the large den. "He's our guest and he's not feeling well. He doesn't know this house yet."
"He can't get lost, he's a tracker. He can find ant piss in a snowstorm."
"Chris!" she warned.
"Sorry," he sighed, eyeing his mother and the pretty redhead who was sitting next to his father on the large leather sofa. She was excited to see them and didn't hide that enthusiasm. "I'm not used to having females around."
"Well, get used to it!" Kate warned. "No swearing, no trotting around without being dressed and no scratching."
"Damn..." Chris frowned. "That only leaves belching. Come on back, Vin," Chris yelled.
"I could have done that!" Kate exasperated, rolling her eyes and moving back to the foyer area. When she arrived to find it empty, she went through the large breakfast area and into the kitchen. Then through the window, she saw the back of his head. As she moved to get to the door, she saw his profile.
"Oh, Vin..." she sighed, seeing those lost blue eyes searching the horizon. Would he find his peace here?
It was a beautiful place and he felt comfortable. He shivered as the setting sun left room for a chilly breeze to kick up. His eyes went to the distance, past those mountains and the road to what was beyond. Would his path be true? Would he become whole again? Or would he be forever trapped in the shadows?
"You'll catch a chill..."
He smiled and turned his head a bit just as two small hands rubbed the back of his neck lightly.
"Nah... I missed 'er..." he replied. "Earth Mother... she's a terrible beauty."
"Well, she's got good taste." Kate took his arm and led him back inside. "Speaking of which, a little bird told me you liked lasagna and garlic bread."
"I reckon I could eat," Vin said, hoping his sour stomach would settle down. "Can I help?"
"Dinner won't be ready for about an hour. I have to get it from the freezer and put it in the oven." She took her jacket off and tossed it onto a peg on the wall. "You look tired, Vin. Why don't you lie down for awhile?"
"Wouldn't see me 'til breakfast if'n I did." Vin peeked into the small parlor next to the back door.
A photo from the Civil War was framed and displayed on the wall just inside. It was the same house, without the additions added over time, with a regiment of Union Soldiers outside. He studied the photo and moved in, closing the door. He peeked to the left, spotting a large, warm open-hearth style kitchen, complete with a huge fireplace in the wall. Several cut-outs in the fireplace had clay doors on them. In the large center spot, an iron spit waited. He could almost see a large roast rotating in there. To his right, in the other direction, was a small parlor. He moved a bit, spotted the narrow passage that led to the rooms on the other side.
It was a beautiful home, filled with furniture, wall decor and style of the Civil War era. He heard Kate's voice just as he was about to investigate a large rifle hanging on the wall in the parlor.
She found him studying one of Adam's many treasured items. Like his son, he collected Civil War memorabilia.
"It's a beauty!" Vin whistled softly, eyeing the exquisite piece of craftsmanship. "That weren't toted by no foot soldier. That's a sniper's rifle... a Sharps..." He peered closer, pointing to the stock. "... this one was a custom piece... see that EAW... that's the mark the inspector made. The one's after 1862 were made different. Sure is pretty..."
"You've got a good eye," she nodded. "It's one of Adam's most prized possessions." She took his arm and led him to a small, ivory settee with a spray of flowers in needlepoint.
"No, ma'am... I'll git it dirty," Vin feared, knowing it was an antique.
"Nonsense!" She tapped the seat. "This is a home, not a museum. Sit." She waited for the slim young man to sit and bit back a grin, watching him totter precariously on the edge. "It won't break..."
"I ain't takin' chances. It's got more zero's behind it than I can scratch up," he noted of the worth and heard her laugh.
"I love to hear you talk." She rested a hand on his own and saw his face turn slightly. "Do you know how special you are?"
"Me?" Vin peeked shyly and saw the same emotive green light that her son possessed.
"You!" she nodded, cupping his jaw and kissing his cheek.
"What's that fer?" Vin blushed.
"For giving my son his soul back," she choked, eyes filling.
"Aw, hell, Kate. Don't be turnin' yer faucet on. It breaks m'heart t'see a mother's tears."
"After we lost our beloved Sara and Adam," she paused, curling her fingers into his and holding on, "I feared for him, Vin. I had no idea how to reach him. He had nothing left. No color in his eyes, no light... nothing. There were dark times... Buck... if it weren't for that man... I would have lost him. Then one day Chris called me on the phone. There was a change in his voice... a texture... something I'd missed for three years. It was just before my birthday and he was coming home."
She smiled then, watching the magnificent blue eyes studying her. "My, you are handsome." She reached up and brushed his hair with her fingers. She saw that blush rise again and saw his lips turn up a bit. "And your mother's pride and joy."
She sighed, recalling that visit from her son. "He came in that door," she nodded. "...and when I embraced him, my breath was stolen. The light was back in his eyes. It was a healing light, Vin. " She lifted her hand and tapped his chest under the worn denim jacket. "It came from here. Throughout dinner, every other word was about 'Vin'. I knew then that God brought you to him. I believe that... and in the time since, I've come to embrace it and rejoice in it."
Then she eyed the room and brought her eyes back to his. She cupped his face in both hands and smiled. "Know this, my sweet Vin, this home, this land..." She paused when his breath caught and the eyes began to dart. "...this family is yours now. I couldn't be more proud of you or care for you any more than if I'd been blessed to have carried you myself."
Vin's eyes closed when she stood and embraced him. He moved his arms, encircling her waist, took a cleansing breath, and then he stood. She was a few inches shorter and looked up at him, eyes shining with tears.
She saw so much in those sky eyes and sought to answer what she could. Fear, doubt and uncertainty were hovering nearby. But just past those glorious iris's, resting behind the shy smile and that engaging drawl, was a light called hope. That was what Kate Larabee reached out to and embraced that spirit.
"Welcome home," she managed, taking his hand and bathing in that blue light. "...son..."
Vin was just about to enter the family room where Adam and Chris were having a beer and discussing the NBA playoffs. He heard a low growl and froze, then proceeded slowly. He saw the 'leggy redhead' seated next to the General and narrowed his eyes, casting them at his best friend.
"Wet sloppy kisses, huh?" he drawled. "Wise-ass!" He knelt down on one leg and held out an open palm. "Hey, girl.."
"That's Vin, Maggie," Adam coached, stroking the four-year-old Irish Setter's silky head. "Go on over and say hello. Go on now..." he urged, gently rubbing her back. Her fur was up and she continued to growl but slid off the sofa.
"Yer a pretty lady, yes, ya are," Vin oozed, watching the beautiful animal sniff his hand. "Good girl, pretty girl," he coached, then paused when she sniffed his face carefully before licking his mouth.
"You've been accepted," Kate said, entering the room and patting Vin's back.
"That's 'cause he smells like Sam," Chris noted of his own Lab, staying with Buck back in Denver.
"I'm Vin. Maybe we can go for a walk sometime," the smitten Texan said, scrubbing her neck and back.
"Uh-oh!" Adam moaned, hearing the 'magic' word issued. The excited animal began to yelp and dance, eyeing her master. "Sorry, girl," he apologized, patting his cast.
"She got a leash?" Vin offered, but Kate got firm.
"No way. The only walk you're going on is to your room."
"I'm okay, Kate. I'd love to walk her..." Vin protested but was denied yet again.
"And you will, honey, but not today. You've had a long day and you're taking your medicine and a nap. Dinner is in the oven, go on now."
"How come Chris don't gotta take one?" Vin pouted but followed the small woman towards the stairs.
"Chris doesn't have a Grade 4 concussion," she replied, turned into the hall and opened a door. "I put your things in the drawers. Underwear and socks on top, shirts in the middle, jeans on the bottom."
"Damn!" Vin gasped in awe, eyeing the cream colored walls of the large room. The carpet was a hunter green with flecks of earth tones like tweed. In one corner was a large four-poster, pine, double bed with what appeared to be an antique patchwork quilt. There was a matching chest of drawers, bureau and large trunk. A desk and chair by the large window completed the furniture. But the walls took his breath away. Every square inch was covered with plaques, trophies, awards and other sports recognitions.
"Division A Athlete of the year..." Vin eyed the nearest trophy for football. He moved slowly, his wide eyes drinking in every line and photo with admiration. "Football, basketball, soccer... damn."
"Chris was a very gifted athlete," the proud mother beamed. "We went to every game. His favorite was quarterback for the Wolves, his high school team. See this..." She moved to a 5 x 7 framed photo on the bureau. "The infamous 'Wolf Pack'." She watched the young man's face dissolve into a wide grin as he eyed his friend, wearing a younger man's clothes.
"Buzz cut, huh?" Vin shook his head at the crew-cut the eighteen-year-old high school senior in the photo was sporting. He was sitting at a long table with a half dozen other kids around him.
"Mike, Billy, Nick, Ted, Tyler and Steve," she recalled. "They were inseparable for four years."
"Reckon Chris got all the best lookin' girls." Vin could see the swaggering QB surrounded by a flock of females.
"Yes, he was quite the heartbreaker," Kate smiled. Then as she moved to put Vin's empty bag in the bottom of Chris's closet, she saw a bulky envelope. Taking it out, she noticed in neat black print the word 'personal'. Just as she turned, she saw Vin place the photo back in its place and head for the trunk.
"His?" Vin's voice was warm and full of mirth.
"Yes," Kate grinned, watching the young man lift the tattered, fur-worn-off-in-spots, but much loved large white stuffed sheepdog. "That's Buster. Chris got that from Adam's father on his first birthday. It was bigger than he was! But more often that not, when he was troubled and couldn't sleep as a boy, I'd find old Buster next to him in the morning."
"Good fer him," Vin decided. "Reckon we all need us a 'Buster' now and again t'talk with..." he agreed, gently replacing the toy.
"Down, Maggie! You know better than that!" Kate reprimanded as the silky animal attempted to settle on the bed. The dog trotted to Vin and nudged his hand and Kate smiled as Vin's soft words were readily accepted. "Looks like you have a friend."
"I love dogs... all animals," he said, accepting more kisses from the pretty canine.
"Honey, this was in your bag." She left the envelope on the bed. "You get some sleep. I'll call you for supper. Come on, Maggie... walk?"
A series of excited woofs led her with the dog to the door, but then a voice called her back.
"Can ya stay a minute?" Vin asked, sitting quietly on the bed.
If Kate had planned on leaving, once she looked at those large blue eyes, she was a goner. His hands were shaking and he wasn't sure of what reaction would occur when the contents were spilled. That he trusted her to share that moment meant a lot to her.
"Are you sure, Vin? It says personal..." Seeing the nod and the slim hand pat the bed, she moved back and took a seat next to him.
Vin took several deep breaths, his fingers feeling through the dark yellow business envelope.
"Ezra's doin'," he noted of the bag packer. "Feels like a picture..." he said and slipped the edge open. "...and somethin' else..." He drew out a tattered, old, ancient harmonica and inhaled sharply. His hands trembled as the room faded away and he was small boy again. He saw an elderly Native American man with the warmest brown eyes and strong hands. They held the same mouth organ, sending soft music into the night air. He felt warm and safe with this man and panicked when the image dissolved just as quickly. "No... don't go... grand... father..."
"Oh, honey," she whispered, watching his face melt and the Adam's apple bob. But he clutched the harmonica to his chest, then moved it up, sniffing it and sighing deeply. Then he placed it to the side and took the other item out. "She's beautiful!" Kate exclaimed. "It's your mother and that," she smiled, "is your father. You look like him."
"Yeah... I guess..." Vin's voice was distracted. He stared at the black and white image of a boy about five with a young blond woman and a man wearing his own face. "I can't remember..."
"Don't!" she warned, seeing his anger rise. "You were only five when she died, Vin. It's natural you wouldn't have sharp, clear images of her. As for your father, I'm sure once your memory returns.." She tried to recall Chris's history on that. Vin was about 12 or so when his father was killed. "That's a long time ago..."
Vin didn't reply. He was too hurt and angry. This was his mother, the woman who gave him life. Yet looking at the photo, he felt nothing. She was a stranger, this giver of life. He wanted to feel her, rejoice in her touch, but there was nothing. He put the photo on the bed stand next to the harmonica and sat, shoulders slumped. He felt a kiss on his cheek and one hand lifted, taken in turn by two smaller ones. "I'm sorry..."
"Don't be," she soothed, squeezing his hand. "You get some sleep. Here..." She moved to the bed stand where she left a bottle of ice tea and his pills.
"No pills..." Vin denied. "They're too strong. Besides, I'm wiped out, don't need 'em." He chugged some tea and slipped his sneakers off.
"Okay, I'll see you later." She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Vin pulled the quilt over his now shivering body and wept. He didn't know why he was crying. He had no idea where the tears came from. Perhaps they were just born of the storm he was lost in. Perhaps they were for the woman in the photo, lost to him for over twenty years. Or for the man wearing his own smile and an army uniform. Maybe for the old man whose presence was so strong. He reached over and took the harmonica, clutching it to his chest. He didn't rationalize. He simply let his exhaustion take over and Vin slept.
Kate put a large Caesar Salad on the table next to a platter brimming with garlic bread. She already had four glasses of ice tea poured and a huge pan of lasagna, steaming and succulent, waiting to be consumed. She moved to the family room and shut the television off. She went to the sofa where her husband was sleeping. Maggie lifted her head from his chest and wagged her tail.
"Adam... Adam...?" She shook his shoulder and bit back a laugh when the scowl formed.
"What!" he barked.
"Dinner..." She brushed her fingers through his dark hair that was starting to silver. "...and you watch your tone of voice."
"I'm a bad boy..." he yawned, smiled and accepted a soft kiss. "God, that smells great!"
"Lasagna, garlic bread and Caesar Salad..." she recited, then saw his dark eyes dancing.
"I wasn't talking about the food..." he murmured, kissing her neck and caressing her.
"You are naughty!" She stood up and thwacked him. "Where's Chris?"
"I don't know..." He looked around the empty room. "Maybe he went back there." He nodded to the guest room.
"Here." She handed him his crutches and supported him until he was upright. "Go on and get settled at the table. I'll get him..."
She walked down the hallway and turned left to where a large guest room was situated. It had a wonderful view of the corral. It was done in dark red and blue with off white walls and decorated with colonial decor. Her hand froze on the doorknob when she heard the song playing on the radio.
"Oh, my..." she sighed, her eyes misting.
"...if I could make days last forever.
If words could make wishes come true.
I'd save every day like a treasure and again
I would spend them with you..."
She tapped on the door lightly as Jim Croce's moving ballad continued.
"Honey, can I come in?"
"Yeah..." Chris managed, not moving from the bed. He heard the door open but didn't raise his face. His eyes remained glued on the artwork in his hands. His finger lovingly traced the crooked lettering, 'I love Pop-Pop'. It was the last Father's Day gift his son made for his grandfather. Chris remembered how precise Adam was, picking out the colors of a white frame with blue stars. The matting was dark red. On the right hand side, under the glass, there was an oval cutout with a photo of his father and his son. To the left, the loving words printed on paper and glued to the mat. Red, white and blue, his pint-sized prize had ordered, because 'Pop-pop likes them colors... like the flag.'
"I'm sorry, Chris. It's normally on your father's desk at work, but when he goes away, he brings it home. I meant to move it..."
"Don't... be..." he managed, his voice raw and scarred.
He felt the bed dip as his mother sat next to him. He lifted his eyes to the window, recalling how wonderful that joyous day had been. The day when he held his brand new family in his arms on his bed. The first day home from the hospital, Sara nursing Adam and tears in his eyes. Then she pointed to the nightstand and he saw a cassette with his name on it. He slipped it in and a song came on. The words rocked him, and he managed to stumble to the bed to sit beside her, brushing his son's velvet skin with his finger. Tears had rolled down his face. She had kissed him then telling him, "..because I love you this much..."
"But there never seems to be enough time,
to do the things you want to do once you find them.
I've looked around enough to know that
you're the one I want to go through time with..."
And that's how it should have been. She should have been there, gliding on a dance floor in his arms on their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Surrounded by their children and grandchildren.
"God... it hurts... mom...!"
"I know, sweetheart, I know," she choked, stood up and hugged him, drawing his head to her chest, rocking slightly and rubbing his back as he wept. Finally, she felt him move and she stepped back. He stood up, keeping his injured leg raised and with one crutch, moved to the chest, returning the photo to its place of honor. She watched him wipe his eyes and take several ragged breaths before turning around.
Chris crossed the room and kissed his mother, then smiled, gracing her with a Larabee winner.
"What's that for?"
"For loving her... truly cherishing her as I did," Chris said simply, for it was true. "My old man taught me how to pick the best." He saw his mother's eyes fill too. Then the tender moment was ended by a familiar growl echoing from down the hall.
"Where the hell is everybody? I'm starving!"
"He's class... all the way!" Chris teased of his father's bellow. "Come on, don't want the old man to pass out."
"I'll get Vin, you go ahead."
She turned left and made her way to the stairs, smiling as Maggie bounded up after her.
"You like Vin, don't you?" she whispered, opening the door. She turned the small light on by the bed and winced. He was curled up; only his head was showing. His long lashes were wet from tears and the pillow was stained as well. His slim fingers were curled around the harmonica that rested near his cheek. She picked up the photo and trained her attention on his mother who looked so very young.
"I need your help. Find him and guide him home. I care for your boy... our boy," she corrected. "I'll cherish him... keep his heart safe. I promise," she vowed, gently putting the photo back and retreating. She didn't know if Vin would want her to see him so emotional. She moved back to the stairs and saw the dog pause, her head cocked and confused.
"Go on, girl, go wake Vin up... go on... get Vin... give kisses... good girl..."
Maggie didn't hesitate. She ran into the room and nuzzled the slack hand, whimpering softly. Nothing happened so she nuzzled his face and leapt on the bed, raining him with wet, sloppy kisses.
"...the hell...?" Vin mumbled, blinking and coughing. Then he felt the flash of fur and smiled as the parade of kisses and excited yelps continued. "Yer likely to drown me... " he chuckled, wrestling with her and scrubbing her back. "Good girl..."
His nose caught the wonderful aroma and his empty stomach growled, causing the dog to cock her head and return the bark. "Ya like lasagna? I love it! How 'bout we get us some, okay?"
He stood, kissed the harmonica and put it next to the picture. "Hey, Ma..." he whispered, wanting to 'feel' her. Then he gave into his stomach and the excited dog and left the room. The door closed and a sweet air entered through the window, causing the ribbons and awards to flutter. It swirled and settled in, waiting for the lost soul to return.
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