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.
"Chris!" Buck hollered down, cupping his hands near his mouth. "How is he?"
Chris waved his arm and kept his face trained on Vin. Hearing a new voice caused the tangled head to jerk. Two blue eyes went wide in shock. The right eye, like that side of his face, was discolored, most likely from the impact with the tree. He saw the confusion pouring down as heavy and cold as the rain.
"It's okay, Vin, that's Buck. How bad are you hurt? Can I check?"
"...Buh...buh...buh...ck..cklin...?"
"Yeah, he's topside. Help's coming," Chris managed, letting Vin's chin go to snake his arm back, checking his right leg. At the touch, the leg jerked and bent. Chris sighed in relief; no breaks there. The other leg twitched as well and bent. The angle of Tanner�s left shoulder coupled with the earsplitting scream that occurred when he first touched it suggested a dislocation. Vin's right fist had already clipped him twice during his confused struggle. No injury there. He moved his fingers around the wet head but saw no blood.
"You got nine lives, Tanner." He sighed hard, then felt Vin stiffen and jerk again. "What?"
"Where's Buck?" Vin gasped, eyes searching the terrain above. "Can't see 'im. Chris, I can't see 'im."
"Calm down, he's probably getting blankets."
"No... no... he can't shoot and that bald bastard's out there. If he hurts Bucklin, I�ll cut his balls off."
"Can't shoot?" Chris puzzled. "Bald... bastard? No, Vin, no. Bull Savage is dead. Look at me."
"Huh? Ya sure? Did he hurt ya? I'll kill 'im!"
"Thanks for that, cowboy." He grabbed the blanket he'd brought down with him and wrapped it around the shivering soul. "Vin, we're not in Mexico. That was almost two months ago. We're in Virginia."
"What?" Vin whispered, shutting his eyes against the swirling images that appeared in his throbbing head. "...go away... fuck off... make 'im stop... Chris..."
"Hold on, Vin."
"Hey, Slick, you look like shit!" Buck announced, dropping down on the other side with two more blankets and a towel. "Hold on..." He used the largest blanket like a tent, draping it over two tree branches.
"Yeah," Chris agreed. "Vin, we're gonna..."
"Bucklin?" Vin blinked.
"Right here, son. You're a damn pain in the ass, you know that?" He paused when one shaky hand came up and touched his face. "I'm real, Vin..."
"Virginia?" He shook his wet head. "How'd I get here? I don't understand none o'this. All m'pictures is mixed the fuck up."
Chris ignored the question and helped Buck move Vin a few feet under the canopy. He picked up a towel and wiped Vin's face and saw Buck move to his feet.
"I'll get his hands..." Chris noted, scooting behind the trembling man. He eased him against his chest, wincing when the younger man cried out in pain. "I'm sorry, Vin..." One blanket was already around the injured man. He wrapped the second around his own back, then enfolded it around both of them. He tied a knot and then moved to find the icy hands. "I'm gonna warm your hands, okay?"
"Shit!" Buck exclaimed, placing Vin's frozen bare feet under his poncho and shirt and against his warm chest. "Christ, he's colder than the queen's tits."
"Nice, Buck!" Chris shot back but heard a feeble laugh from the injured man. "Don't encourage him, Vin!"
"S...s...s...orry... B...b..uck..." Vin chattered.
"That's okay, Vin," Buck sent back as distant sirens were heard. "That was fast. Josiah got a state trooper. He was only a few miles away. Chris, keep him awake!" Buck yelled, watching the eyes drifting shut.
"Vin, you with us?"
"...send the kid, I'm tired..." Vin slurred, unable to open his eyes.
"Send the kid where?" Chris pressed.
"Donatos... m'starved... ex...tra... pepper...oni..."
"Hey!" Buck's head shot up, but his hands continued to massage Vin's feet. "Hey, he said Donato's. Hey, Chris..."
"Yeah maybe, Buck." The blond's hopes were raised. The family-owned Italian eatery was Vin's favorite place for pizza.
"Chris? Buck?"
"Nathan!" Chris called, then sighed in relief when flashing red lights appeared behind the tall healer. "I'll tell you what, Vin," he pressed close, moving his mouth against the wet tangled hair. "When we get home, we'll have a pizza party at Donato's, okay?"
"...yer buyin'... gon...na..snow... sure... make it two... pies...."
"Who the hell is that?"
"I don't know, dear. I can't see through the phone."
"Hello!"
"Sorry, Dad, I know it's early."
"Chris? What's wrong?"
Adam was instantly awake. He sat up and swung his legs over the bed and turned the light on. He felt his wife move and exit the bed, tying her robe as she went. She joined him on his side of the bed, her face creased in concern.
The exhausted younger Larabee sat forward on the chair, rubbing his eyes. Even two cups of hot coffee couldn't take his chills away. He knew some of that was aftershock. It was a one in a million shot that Buck had spotted that hunk of Vin's shirt. He didn't want to think of the consequences if they'd missed him and traveled onward. All Chris saw was just how close his confused, injured friend was to that swollen, angry river. He shivered again as the image of Vin's bloated dead body arrived uninvited.
"Dammit, son, talk to me!" Adam thundered, not liking the raspy breathing in his ear.
"Sorry... it's been a bitch of a night. We're at Holy Cross Hospital."
"Hospital? Who's we?"
"Hospital? Is he hurt? What happened?" the worried mother fretted.
"I don't know, Kate!" Adam scowled.
"All of us... the team flew in to meet us for dinner. We got back home just as the storm hit. We think Vin had a flashback or something. He wandered off into the mountains. We've been looking for him all night."
"Who got hurt? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad. Just waterlogged. Vin got a little banged up." He shifted in the chair, his damp clothes chaffing his skin. He raked a hand through his spiky blond hair and sighed hard. "I'm sorry, Dad. I know it's early. I just needed to hear your voice. I almost lost him."
Adam winced at the small voice he seldom heard from his only child. He held his wife's hand and gave a little tug, nodding that all was okay.
"That's okay, Chris. Your mother and I will pack up and be there in a couple of hours. Where's Vin now?"
"Vin?" Kate frowned. She rose, following Adam's motioning hand waving at the closet and bathroom.
"He's in the ER. They're warming him up. He dislocated his shoulder, banged his face up..." Chris noted wearily, yawning. "Uh... he's hypothermic... they need to warm him up. He was so cold they couldn't get an IV line in..." he prattled nervously, thinking on the restrictive bindings that injured arm would have. "He's gonna be pissed when he wakes up..."
"Is your team with you?" Adam didn't like the voice he heard. It wasn't like Chris to be rambling and so loose-tongued.
"Yeah, most of 'em. Ezra and J.D. went back to the house to get us some dry clothes. Nathan went to get some sandwiches. Josiah and Buck are here. It was so dark, Dad. He was all confused, thought he was in Mexico again. He was looking for me. The river... was... just a few feet away. If Buck hadn't seen a piece of his shirt and he stumbled into that river..."
"Alright, Chris, he's safe now. Put Buck on..."
Buck looked up when the phone hit his leg. He'd been dozing in the chair, glad for the Tylenol the nurse had given him. His arm hurt like hell.
"Hello?"
"What the hell's wrong with my boy?" Adam bellowed, causing his wife to reappear from the bathroom. He waved at her to continue dressing.
"Sir? Oh, he's tired and little punch drunk. It was quite a night." Buck used his free hand to rub the back of Chris's neck. The blond was leaning forward, his head draped between his arms, resting on his knees. "He's okay, sir. He just needs to see Vin is all."
"Mrs. Larabee and I are on our way. You hold down the fort."
"Yes, sir, will do."
Buck stood up and took the courtesy phone over to the counter across the room. This was a small hospital in the mountains, but the waiting area was cozy, almost resembling a den. He stretched and winced as his injured shoulder protested. He saw Nathan approaching with two bags of food. He nodded and tapped Josiah's back. The eldest was dozing in a chair in front of him.
"Anything yet?" Nathan asked, putting the bags down on a table that was near the courtesy phone.
"No," Buck said, lifting out a hot round container. "Soup? Where'd you find soup at six a.m.?�
"All night diner down the block. There's soup, sandwiches and doughnuts. Chris, get over here and eat."
"Yeah," he sighed, sitting up but not moving. Suddenly, the effort to cross those few feet was too much. "You deliver?"
"Depends on how good you tip!" Nathan joked, taking a container of soup, a sandwich and napkins over to the exhausted man. Like the others, he knew that Chris's fatigue had more to do with the trauma that had occurred. The dull green eyes were littered with what 'could have been'.
"Thanks, Nathan." Chris sipped the hot soup for a few moments, letting the warmth invade him. He took a bite of the sandwich just as a doctor appeared. "How is he?" he muffled, wiping his mouth and standing.
"Easy, there." Nathan grabbed the wavering body.
"He's sleeping now. I imagine he'll be sleeping most of the morning. We sedated him in order to reduce and immobilize his left shoulder that was dislocated." The doctor paused, eyeing the pale blond man. "Son, are you alright?"
"I'll tell you, doc," Chris replied honestly, "I know now what they mean by 'bone-weary'. Can we see him?"
"In a few minutes. He�ll be going up to his room in just a bit. Other than his shoulder, all his x-rays are negative. He�s still a bit hypothermic, so we are continuing to slowly warm him up. Also, due to the hypothermia, he was very peripherally vasoconstricted and..."
"Vaso-what?" Buck sputtered. "In English, Doc, okay?"
"Sorry!" he smiled. "It means that the blood vessels in the surface of the skin react to the cold or to being dehydrated by narrowing down, sometimes to the point that the skin looks very white and you can't see or feel the blood vessels. It's actually a protective mechanism that diverts blood flow to more vital areas of the body, like the heart, lungs, liver, brain and kidneys. It also helps you to conserve body heat by shunting the blood away from the surface of the skin where heat is lost."
"Which means it was most likely damned near impossible for you to get an IV in him. I�m guessin� you had to make do with usin� the antecubital area,� Nathan proffered.
"Yes, in his uninjured arm and he�ll need to be sure and keep that arm straight to keep from kinking off the IV. Until he warms up and we have better access, I'm afraid he won�t be able to use either arm.�
"Good thing he can't shoot," Josiah teased, knowing how the Texan hated being tied down or restricted.
"Time out!" Buck made a letter 'T' with his hands. "What's antecubal?"
"Antecubital space," Nathan corrected, tapping the inside of his arm where it bent. "Here. The veins are larger and the skin's thinner. It's easier to go in..."
"Showoff!" Buck teased. "Don't mind him, Doc. He was first in his class at EMT's R Us."
"I see, well, your friend�s a strong young man, he'll recover fine. He's going to be one floor up in two-eighteen. I suggest all of you get some dry clothes and finish that food." He paused, eyeing the washed out blond who was fading fast. "Young man, you need to find a bed. Doctor�s orders."
"Is there an empty one in two-eighteen?" Nathan teased, flanking Chris's right side.
"Yeah, �cause you know Old Green Eyes isn't movin' a damn place until he spots the blues of that river rat's eyes."
"River rat?" the doctor puzzled.
"Long-haired," Buck smiled, patting Chris's back.
"Texas variety," Nathan added.
"...sorry-assed, ornery cuss..." Chris completed, then found a smile. "Both arms, huh? Boys, I think we might hear some brand new Tanner curses." He swatted Buck. "Who the hell are you calling old?"
"There it is," Kate pointed to the room ahead.
Adam opened the door and held it for his wife. They paused just inside, each warming to the sight.
"Poor thing, both of his arms..." she noted, eyeing the sleeping young man. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. An IV line ran into his secured right arm and his left was bound at a ninety degree angle to keep pressure off his injured shoulder. The right side of his face was bruised and the eye swollen shut.
"I imagine it didn't take much convincing," Kate noted, eyeing her blond child.
The doctor had agreed that given Vin's amnesia, it would be a good idea to have someone familiar near him when he woke up. They'd paged the physician upon their arrival at Holy Cross Hospital. Buck called them during their trip south to say the rest of the team were heading back to the house to get some sleep. True visiting hours didn't begin until two p.m. The doctor took a few moments to update them on Vin's condition and agreed that they could have a quick visit.
Now, Adam let his gaze run over the injured man and then moved across the room to the bed. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gently brushing the back of the blond head. Chris was sound asleep, sitting in a chair, his upper body resting on the bed near Tanner�s side. His head lay across his folded arms.
He sighed hard, recalling the tough little warrior he'd often carried up to bed at night. Whether is was homework, chores or a tough loss in a ball game, his son pushed himself too hard. More often than not, the green-eyed terrier would wear himself out fighting invisible demons. But a young man from Texas with a winning smile and the heart of a lion changed all that. Deep inside, beyond those blue eyes, there was a healing spirit. A force both undeniable and indefinable that with the grace of a dove had invaded his troubled son's heart and soul. It was something that couldn't be held or touched, yet was stronger than steel.
"He looks so peaceful..." Kate commented of her son, taking her husband's arm. "I know it's silly, but somehow I think Vin knows he's there."
"Yeah," Adam agreed, keeping his hand on Chris's shoulder and letting his eyes go to Vin's face. He couldn't help thinking of just how perfect this picture seemed. The two young men were side by side, breathing in even and steady rhythm. "Symmetry, a living and breathing example."
Warm.
That was the first impression that crept into his darkness. He was warm again. He sighed and felt totally relaxed on something soft. It was peaceful and he felt safe here. He yawned, coughed and pulled his heavy eyes open.
"Shit..."
He blinked as the unwelcome bright sunlight pierced his eyes. For several minutes, he blinked and squinted until his tender orbs adjusted. Finally, he was able to peer around the spacious room.
Pale green walls with pastel prints of the seaside greeted him. Two empty chairs, a door and a small chest were all he could see on the side his head was facing. He heard voices and frowned, trying to pick up the odd sound.
"Doctor DeStefano, seven-four-five-nine...."
"Doctor?" Vin croaked through a very dry mouth.
His chest was a bit thick and he felt a sneeze being born. He went to move his arm and panicked. .
"...the hell...?"
His left arm was bound to his chest and the right one was secured to some sort of board. Immediately, the large, comfortable room shrunk several feet and felt like a coffin. He was bound like a rat in a trap, unable to move. He began to panic which affected his already uneven breathing. It was then he saw the large index card with even black writing attached to an IV pole.
"Do not move yer arm...."
He followed the IV line that went into the crook of his right arm.
"Aw, hell..."
He shut his eyes a moment, letting his mind go blank. Through the headache and wheezing chest, images began to creep up. A silver plane crashed and a storm erupted. He recalled running through that storm in heavy woods. He was searching for Chris. Then he took a bad fall. He furrowed his pale brows and more images tumbled forth, faster than he could keep up. He saw Chris and Buck leaning over him, heard their reassuring voices, felt that strong touch. A bumpy ambulance ride and strangers poking at every orifice in a crowded ER.
"Accident," he decided.
Before he could dwell on the events that brought him to this bed, it happened. He hadn't expected it and wasn't prepared. The pale pastel walls faded away and his mind's eye drew up a different palette. He felt like a child in a movie theater that was dark and eerie. Unable to move from the seat, his eyes were transfixed as the long movie began to play. By the time it ended, he was tired but satisfied. For several minutes, he lay breathless, sated and felt a peace nestle inside that had long been vacant.
Wet.
Something wet was on his fingers. He lifted his head enough to see a blond head. The face under it was pale and drawn. Soft, warm breath left the parted lips that were close to his fingers. He moved them again, wrinkling his nose as the source of the moisture was revealed.
"Lar'bee..." he croaked, swallowing painfully. "...drier than a buzzard's butt... Lar'bee!"
The body moved but the head remained down. He sighed hard, eyed the sign that screamed at him not to move and frowned. He didn't know what the contraption was or why this IV line was so special, but he didn't want an irate nurse breathing down on him.
"Dammit... ain't bad enough I'm trussed up like a fuckin' Thanksgivin' bird." He paused, wheezed, coughed and felt a sneeze starting to take shape. "...got Lar'bee spit the hell all over..."
"Some women find that a turn-on..."
"So go find one to suck on and git yer spit the hell offa m'fingers."
Chris yawned, sat up, rubbing his eyes and wincing as his back protested. He blinked several times and stood, eyeing the bathroom door.
"What time is it?" he mumbled, still half asleep.
"Well, hell, lemme check m'watch!" Vin grumbled.
"Sorry." Chris eyed his watch. "It's almost eleven a.m." He yawned again and shuffled to the bathroom. After relieving his full bladder, he washed his face and combed his hair. Finally, he went back to the patient's side.
"What the hell were ya doin' in there? Git over here and fetch me a tissue... hurry..."
"Yeah, okay..."
Chris plucked a handful of tissues from the bedside box just in time to catch a parade of very wet sneezes. A series of coughs followed, then two more sneezes.
"You done?"
"Think so..." Vin paused, eyes watered from the effort. "Where's the red thing?"
"What red thing?"
"I want a nurse. I want this rig the hell offa m'arm..."
"It stays on, doctor's orders. You were damn near frozen when they brought you in. Blow!" he ordered, covering the Texan's nose. Two blues eyes glared up at him and he found a regal scowl and sent it right back. "Look, Vin, I don't have time for one of your tantrums. I had a bitch of a night, hiking all over the Goddamn mountain to find you. I'm tired, hungry and want to sleep for a week. So don't fuck with me, okay? Blow your Goddamn nose." He paused and a feeble effort came back. "Not very manly..."
"Manly?" Vin muffled before unleashing. "There, that 'manly' enough fer ya?"
"Wiseass!" Chris got more tissues and cleaned him up. Then he rubbed the teary eyes, ignoring the stream of curses and the wiggling head. Finally, he poured a mug of water and shoved a straw into the cup. "Here, slow and easy... all of it. Good." He filled the cup twice more and it was drained. "Attaboy, give that catheter a good workout."
"Yer enjoyin' the hell outta this, ain't ya?" Vin wheezed, angry at the cold that had found a home in his chest.
"Other than being grilled by the priests of the Spanish Inquisition, I can't think of anything more fun than a tied up Texan sporting a Tanner cold."
"Shut up," Vin pouted, wiggling in the bed. He eyed the walls again, sure that they were creeping inward. "I ain't hardly that bad."
"World's worst patient," Larabee predicted. "You pick up colds like dogs do fleas." He paused and eyed his watch again. "I'm gonna tell the nurse you're awake, have them send up a tray. You hungry?" He glanced over and saw a look of such utter and complete peace shining back at him that it left him dumbstruck. The blue eyes were painted a shade just beyond bliss and they crinkled slightly when a wondrous Tanner smile was born. "What?"
"I'm drownin'," Vin rasped. "The lid on m'box blew the hell off. Got waves and waves of memories pourin' over me." His smile widened when his best friend moved across the room, eyes bright and bearing a wicked gleam. "Chris... I got m'pictures back. Every fuckin' one of 'em. I got 'em back..."
Chris didn't speak, but his hand shot out automatically. Then he saw Vin frown and the IV'd arm move.
"No!"
"Aw, hell..." Vin wiggled, unable to meld into the brotherhood grip he'd become accustomed to.
"That's okay, Vinnie," Chris tormented, ruffling the wavy brown hair.
"Cut that out! Don't be touchin' m'hair. Yer worse than Bucklin." Vin paused in near panic. "Does he know about this rig?"
"Yup."
"Ezra?"
"Yup."
"Great." Vin slumped, already feeling a Wilmington-Standish production being planned. "They're gonna cook somethin' up, sure as shit." He scowled as images of being tickled, having his toenails painted or worse, came up.
"I'm gonna call home and check in..."
"How long I gotta stay like this?"
"Your left shoulder was dislocated; you'll be in a sling for awhile. I'm not sure about the IV but a few more hours anyhow."
"Anybody else git hurt?" Vin fretted, wondering about his friends.
"No, just wet and cranky. They're all back at the house." He saw flickers of puzzlement and paused by the door. "I'll fill you in over lunch," he noted, stepping outside to alert the nurse.
"Hey, Chris?"
"Yeah?" Larabee stuck his head back inside.
"Weren't fer them green eyes shinin' in m'storm, Idda never got none o'the pictures back. Ya got no idea how... m...much..."
"Yeah, I do." Chris showered the room with a wide Larabee smile. "Don't be givin' your eyes a workout, Vin, this place only has so many boxes of tissues."
"Shut up!" Vin laughed, sending his own smile back, then nodding as Chris made a fist and tapped his heart. "Right back atcha, cowboy!"
The elevator doors opened and five men spilled out, each bearing a bag or box. The wondrous scents that fought for air space created an aromatic battle. Spicy Mexican took on pungent Oriental; deep Southern fried battled zesty Italian. Sitting back smugly and oozing charm was rich, decadent chocolate.
"Damn, I'd like to get me some of that!" Shirley Wilson, one of the floor nurses, noted watching the quintet walk down the hall.
"You talkin' what's in the bags or what's holding them?" Denise Alessi replied.
"Both..." Shirley grinned, resuming her work.
"Buck, why'd you..." J.D. began only to have an arm thrust across his chest.
"Shhh!" the mustached man replied, cocking his head to the door.
"...shouldda hired me some help fer all the good yer doin'. Squattin' in my room, readin' on duty..."
"Duty?" Josiah replied, peering at the irate patient over his glasses. He shook his head and resumed his crossword puzzle.
"Duty!" Vin shot back, then blew a raspberry. "Dammit t'hell! That's the same damn fly that's been hoverin' o'er me all day."
"Same fly?" the older man inquired without looking up.
"Hell, yeah," Tanner managed, keeping his eyes on the pest. "..he's flyin' with a limp."
"Flyin' with a limp?" Josiah looked up, curious.
"...flew in m'mouth about an hour ago, whilst I was dozin'. Sneaky little bastard, I spit 'im out..."
"Should have swallowed, then he wouldn't be doing Kamikaze runs." Sanchez eyed the slim body in the bed. "Besides, you could use the protein."
"Ya ain't a damn bit funny, preacher." Vin wheezed, coughed and blinked through blurry eyes. "Hell, can't see... where'd the little bastard go? Them feets o'his been troopin' in every pile o'shit in the county. Then he's walkin' the hell all o'er m'face. Ya know them filthy bastards carry 'bout a billion diseases."
"At least you're in the right place."
"Ya gonna jest squat o'er there and let me suffer?" Vin growled, blue eyes blazing. "Coulda got a stiff from the morgue that wouldda been better..."
Josiah heard the odd combination of gagging and a violent, spitting action. He saw the tangled brown head tossing.
"You best settle down, son. You pull out that IV and..."
"...flew right the fuck in m'mouth again..."
"Well," Josiah said somberly, "Maybe it's a French fly."
"French fly!" Buck repeated before dissolving into hysteria along with J.D. and Nathan. "That's funny."
Vin's head came up and his eyes narrowed. He saw shadows under the door and heard the hard laughter. That only made him madder.
"I hear ya out there, ya flea-ridden pac'o'varmits. Pickin' on an invalid. It don't get much lower..."
"Hey, Vin!" J.D. entered the room, holding the door with his leg.
"How you doing, Slick?" Buck exuded, bounding in.
"Hey, Vin, you got a dead fly on your mouth..." J.D. came closer. "Ewww, its feet are moving."
"Well, hell, J.D., why don't ya size 'im up fer sneakers!" Vin sassed, then began to squirm. "Get me outta this rig!"
"Vin, you calm down or I'll tell that big nurse you haven't gone to the bathroom today," Josiah warned and held back a smirk when the young man went pale, save the vivid eyes.
"Ya wouldn't have the balls!" Vin found his voice and frowned when one gray eyebrow went up in a challenge.
"Chris?"
Ezra paused in the doorway, watching the blond man recover from his laughter. He watched curiously as the leader paused and eyed the end of the hallway. The head tipped a bit and then a bag bearing chocolate of every variation from a local bakery was thrust at him.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, taking the bag.
"No, there's somebody I have to talk to," he relayed quietly. "I'll be right back."
"Promise?"
Chris saw the gold tooth glint as the slight grin formed on the Southerner's face. They all knew just how frustrated Vin was being unable to move. He caught the jade eyes and nodded.
"This Captain goes down with his ship..."
"I'll hold you that," Ezra chased, watching until the well-honed body turned the corner at the end of the hall.
"How you feelin', Vin?" Nathan chuckled a little guiltily at the pleasure of watching the ornery Texan they'd all grown accustomed to resurface. They had all cheered aloud at the Larabee's when Chris called and told them Vin had recovered his memory.
"Swell, Nathan! Don't I look it?"
"You hungry?" J.D. offered, shoving a straw into a large container of cherry coke. "Here. Slow down, Vin, you're gonna choke."
"Never, not on nectar of the gods..." Vin predicted, gasping for breath. Beyond the bags and boxes being unpacked, his blue eyes zoomed in on Buck and Ezra, whispering in the corner. "Ya best get yer affairs in order... I'm puttin' the warnin' on both o'ya jackals."
"Mister Tanner," Ezra grinned, approaching the bed, "I'm offended. You are far too suspicious."
"Bullshit!" Vin shot back, eyeing the smirking Wilmington. "Shut up, Buck!"
"I haven't said anything!" Buck laughed harder.
"The hell ya ain't, I can hear ya clear as dirt."
"Clear as dirt!" Nathan repeated, smiling broadly.
"What the hell are ya lookin' at?" The patient regarded Standish with guarded eyes.
"It would appear your hair is in need of washing and perhaps a trim."
"Ya come near m'head, Ezra, and I'll fry yer balls in butter."
"How appetizing," Standish drolled.
"You know, Ezra, you're right!" Buck moved to the other side of the bed, causing the helpless man to pivot his eyes like a wayward ping pong ball. He knew he shouldn't. After all, Vin was a friend and the poor man had no arms to defend himself. Yet the devilish smile appeared and his hand moved.
"Quit pawin' me!" Vin squirmed. "Git yer hands outta m'hair, Buck, or I'll tell Inez about yer peep show."
"Peep show?" Josiah sat up, interested. "Buck, you holdin' out on us?"
"What's a peep show?"
"J.D., sometimes I wonder about you." Buck shook his dark head and kept grinning at the helpless blue-eyed fly. "It's not a peep show, it's a calendar for a tool company."
"Yeah, right!" Vin snorted. "I'm sure that's why ya got it locked up in the bottom drawer o'yer desk."
"If it was locked, Vin, how'd you know it was in there?" J.D. asked and saw the famous Tanner grin.
"Breaking and entering," Ezra clucked his tongue. "I'm appalled."
"Didn't bust in, jest planted the right bait."
"Bait?" Buck thought back. He always locked the drawer. The only time he didn't was when the exterminator came. "You dog, you called the bug people?"
"Thought fer sure with all that drawer action, there was a nest o'some kind in yer drawers."
"Can we leave his drawers out of it?" J.D. elbowed Nathan. "Drawers, get it?"
"J.D., don't give up your day job," Jackson groaned.
"As long as the closet's opened, what was that thing Miss March was squatted on?"
"You okay, son?" Josiah clapped J.D.'s back; the youth was choking on his food.
"I ordered that one," Buck wagged his brows. "It's all in how you use them."
Vin couldn't help but laugh. When Buck was on a roll, the best thing to do was go with the flow. Holding court in the hospital room, with a captive audience, the tall agent was in his glory. By the time he finished his very colorful 'instructions', they all were laughing.
"Uh-oh", Josiah warned when the patient's laughter suddenly gave birth to a coughing fit.
"Damn Vin, you spit on me!" Buck wrinkled his nose as he pushed the button moving the bed up. He saw that favorite finger of Tanner's flip onto the sheet and laughed.
"You okay, Vin?" Josiah wiped the tearing man's eyes as the matted head bobbed.
"Good, cause I'm starved," J.D. decided.
"You need to be inspected for a tape worm." Ezra shook his head, wondering at the large amount of food the youth consumed.
"Pizza, tacos, fried chicken or shrimp lo mein?" Nathan asked.
"Shrimp? I can't eat that. Who the hell made that mistake?" Vin touted, still keeping an eye on the pair of devils next to him.
"I did." Chris came into the room. "I like shrimp."
"When yer all tied the hell up, I'll remember that," Vin pouted, eyeing his friends eating. "I ain't hungry."
"Check for snow!" Nathan teased.
"Check for a pulse," Ezra winked at Buck. "It's a shame you have lost your usual hearty appetite. Sausage, pepperoni and all those lovely additives you're so fond of..." The sly con man waved a steaming piece of pizza in front of the large blue saucers.
"Well, mebbe I could eat a little," Vin offered along with his tongue.
Three slices and one taco later followed by a chocolate cheesecake chaser and a parade of sneezes, the nurse came in and gave the injured man some medicine. His heart wanted to stay awake, basking in the laughter of his friends. It felt so good to be fully back in the pack. He couldn't describe it; no words could match that warmth inside. His box was intact, each memory tucked away and safe. That laughter cradled him and he let his eyes drift shut.
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