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He didn´t know exactly how it had happened, but JD knew he´d been shot. He hadn´t heard it, but he´d felt the searing pain as it ripped into his shoulder, throwing him back into the stack of crates. Even reeling from the shock, he´d heard the voice calling to Chris and had seen the team leader disappear through the small door.Struggling against the burning pain, he managed to work his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. Without hesitation, he pushed the key that would connect him to his roommate and fellow agent.
“Wilmington,” Buck barked into the phone.
“Bu…Buck?” JD gasped weakly.
“JD!” Buck returned, a distinct note of alarm colouring his voice. “What´s wrong?”
“Shot,” JD breathed.
Buck looked around the police lobby for Josiah, who was off to one side, speaking to two uniformed officers.
“Where are you, JD?” he asked, the calm voice belying his panic.
“Alley,” JD gasped. “Behind… behind old Fortino´s.”
As soon as Buck heard the words, recognition slammed into him with all the force of a physical blow. “Damnit!” he cursed himself for not having thought about it earlier. Covering the phone for a moment, he shouted out to Josiah. “JD´s hurt. Get a backup unit and an ambulance to the back entrance of the old Fortino´s building, now!” Josiah was already in action when Buck added, “And no sirens!”
Turning his attention back to the phone, he forced his voice to remain calm. “Where´s Chris, JD?”
“Inside,” JD managed. “With Collings.”
“We´re on our way, kid,” Buck soothed, already hurrying for the car with Josiah at his side. “You just hang in there, ya hear?”
“Yeah,” JD breathed, “but hurry, Buck, ‘K?”
Wilmington swallowed hard. He hated it when any of them was injured but he couldn´t deny that his concern always seemed magnified when it their youngest team member. “We´ll be there before you know it, son,” he said softly.
It only took them a matter of minutes to reach the area, and the ambulance and backup unit arrived seconds later. Buck hurried to where JD lay in the alley and knelt at his side, slipping his own phone into his pocket and taking the one from JD´s hand. “It´s OK, kid,” Buck assured him as he tried to maintain his grasp on the device. “Help´s here.”
“Buck,” JD breathed as the bigger man´s presence registered. “Get Chris. Third door… third door on the right.”
“Don´t worry ‘bout none of that right now, “ Buck tried to soothe him.
The ambulance attendants moved in to do their job and Buck was forced to move out of the way.
“Looks like it went clean through,” one of the medics informed them after a brief examination. “Lost some blood, but it doesn´t look like it hit anything vital.”
Buck breathed a sigh of relief.
“Buck?” JD called weakly. “Don´t worry ‘bout me. Collings has Chris.”
“Not for long,” Buck muttered under his breath. Now that he knew JD was going to be all right, he was filled with an all-consuming rage for the man who´d hurt him. “You just do what they tell you, son. We´ll get Chris.”
JD nodded in relief and closed his eyes as the two attendants prepared him for transport.
Buck hurried to where Josiah was explaining the situation to backup. “I´m going in,” he announced. “JD saw Chris go into that door right there. Chances are, Vin´s in there too.” His eyes scanned the area, taking in the large loading door just past the smaller one JD had pointed out. “I´m going to see if there´s another way in,” he announced. “Stay here, watch that door, and if anyone comes out, hold your fire. We´ve got two ATF agents in there.” The two officers readied their weapons and trained them on the small door while Buck hurried off.
He quickly took in the layout of the alley, noting three doors with Fortino´s stenciled on them, including the door JD had pointed out. Recalling his days as a beat cop in the warehouse district, Buck knew these doors probably led to a series of interconnected rooms.
Knowing he had to gain access to the building, preferably without alerting Collings, Buck moved along the alley to the last door marked Fortino´s. His best bet now was to gain the element of surprise. When he´d shot JD, Collings probably thought he´d silenced the only witness to his movements. That thought sent a fresh surge of anger coursing through Buck´s body, but he resisted the urge to give in to it, knowing there were two other friends and fellow agents counting on him.
Gun drawn, he opened the door, thankful that it opened quietly. It was a storage room. Once satisfied the room was empty, he slipped inside and allowed his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness before quietly making his way across the room to the next door. After listening for a moment and hearing nothing, he opened that door and stepped cautiously into the dark, high-ceilinged room. It, too, was empty and he allowed himself to exhale quietly in relief. He could see the door leading to the next room, which should be the one Collings and Chris had entered from the alley. A sign indicated it was the shipping office. Buck quietly made his way toward the door, weapon at the ready. Once there, he paused again to listen. He could hear voices, but couldn´t distinguish words. Trusting that the dark warehouse wouldn´t allow any light to give away his position, he painstakingly inched the door open.
+ + + + + + +
Collings held his gun in one hand and trailed the other lightly down Vin´s back. “You see, Larabee,” he began as though talking about nothing more important than the weather. “The spinal cord is a tricky thing. It´s possible for even a relatively small injury to render a man totally and permanently immobile.”
Chris once again leapt from the chair, but Collings held up a hand in warning and jabbed the gun into Vin´s ribs, effectively stopping the team leader in his tracks. “Now, now, Chris, I don´t necessarily want to kill him, but I think you know I will if I have to.”
“You´ll never get away with this,” Chris grated. “They´re already looking for you.”
“Please,” Collings scoffed. “Surely you don´t think I´d go into this without a plan, do you?” He gestured for Chris to sit once again, and after a furtive glance at Vin, the blonde did just that and the profiler continued. “By the time you summon help, I´ll be long gone. My time with the FBI has set me up for life and I think I´d like to retire someplace warm.” He rubbed the top of his thigh absently. “Leg acts up something awful in the winter.”
Chris tried desperately to think of a way to get Collings and that gun away from Vin.
“Now, where were we?” Collings mused. “Ahh yes. Extolling the many mysteries of the spinal cord.” He looked at Vin again as he used his free hand to extract a knife from a sheath at his waist. “Now, a bullet at this range would do more damage that we´re really after, so we´ll just have to improvise.” He trailed the tip of the blade slowly down Vin´s back until he reached a spot just above where the man´s hands were cuffed. “I calculate if I slide it in right about here, it´ll just slice through the cord, nice and easy. And if I do it right, Mr. Tanner here shouldn´t feel much of anything…” He laughed then. “Ever again.”
“Chris,” Vin breathed, drawing the blonde´s attention from Collings to his helpless captive. “Ain´t your fault, Chris.”
He didn´t say any more, but Chris could hear the underlying plea for him to accept the words as truth.
“Awww, isn´t that touching,” Collings taunted with an angry sneer. “You think that´s going to change anything, Tanner? You think that´s going to stop him from dying inside every time he looks at you?”
“Fuck you,” Tanner hissed.
Collings laughed again. “Well, gentlemen, I´d love to stand here exchanging pleasantries all day, but I have a plane to catch.” He sheathed the knife and drew another set of cuffs from his jacket pocket. “Now, Larabee, if you´ll kindly put your hands behind your back”, he instructed, moving forward with the gun trained on Chris´ chest, “we can get this little show on the road.”
+ + + + + + +
Buck had heard enough. Though he couldn´t see the men through the tiny sliver of opening, their voices had given him enough to determine their locations in the room. Taking a deep breath, he flung the door open and burst inside, gun aimed in the direction of the voices. “Freeze! ATF!”
Collings was only a few feet from Chris when he whirled to face the intruder, giving Larabee the distraction he´d been waiting for. Even before he registered Buck´s presence, he was lunging at Collings, his weight and momentum taking them both to the floor. Chris heard the unmistakable sound of the silencer as Collings managed to get off a few harmless shots. When he´d wrestled the gun away, he pulled back, only to catch the glint of metal as Collings grabbed his knife and made a slash in Chris´ direction. One more shot, louder this time, and the knife dropped from the profiler´s fingers as he screamed in pain.
Chris trusted Buck to see to Collings and he turned quickly toward where the sharpshooter waited.
“Vin!” he shouted in alarm as he saw the younger man´s knees had buckled and he hung suspended only from the rope, his face turning a frightening shade of red. He was at the man´s side in a heartbeat, supporting the limp body while he yelled for Buck to cut the rope.
Buck grabbed the knife that Collings had dropped and rushed to help his friends. Once he´d sliced through the thick, hemp cord, he hurried to help Chris lower the choking man to the floor.
Between the two of them, they removed the rope from around his neck and watched anxiously as the man took a large, gasping breath. When he started to cough, Chris hurried to raise his head.
“Buck, he needs an ambulance,” the team leader instructed brusquely.
The tall agent knew just where he could find one and hurried for the door, hoping it was still there.
“You OK?” the blonde asked in a shaky voice as the coughing subsided.
“Think so,” Vin gasped, the words sending him into another short bout of coughing.
Once it had passed, he took a moment to regain control of his breathing. Concerned green eyes watched him closely and noticed when the Texan´s short-lived relief was replaced with an expression of panic.
“Chris?” the younger man gasped, gripping his partner´s arm in a vice-like hold.
“What is it, Vin?” Chris urged, his own panic rising.
“Can´t… Can´t move m´legs, Chris.” With that, he finally gave in to the agonizing pain and slid into merciful oblivion.
Buck returned with the ambulance attendants just in time to hear Vin´s words.
“Chris?” he questioned with concern.
Larabee watched the medics tend Vin for a moment before raising bewildered green eyes to meet Buck´s. The slow shaking of the blonde head indicated that he didn´t know any more than Wilmington did.
“Gunshot wound, lower back,” the male medic stated succinctly. “We´ll need a back board and a collar.”
God, no
The words repeated themselves over and over in Chris´ mind, like a chant that could somehow change what was happening in front of him.
“I´ll get ‘em,” Buck offered, already running for the door.
The female attendant nodded her consent, then turned to her partner. “Roy, check that other one.”
“He´s fine,” Chris hissed angrily. “You have to help Vin.”
“We´ll do what we can,” she promised, then motioned with her eyes for her partner to check on Collings while she turned her attention to the more gravely injured man.
“Vin?” she called gently, trying to get his attention. “Are you in any pain?”
Vin moaned slightly and opened his eyes. “Arm… head…”
“What about your back, Vin?” the medic urged. “Or your legs?”
“Back?” Vin repeated, his brows knitting together in slight confusion. “Back´s fine. Leg´s ‘r a little tingly ‘s all.” Panic returned to the blue eyes as he was reminded of his plight. “Oh, God, I can´t move m´legs! Chris!”
Chris knelt by his side, taking a trembling hand in his. “Take it easy, pard,” he soothed. “Let them take care of you.”
Vin searched the green eyes for a moment, looking for some sort of reassurance. Reluctantly, he nodded and closed his eyes, allowing the medic to continue with her job.
He didn´t see the look of utter devastation that settled on Chris´ face, but the ambulance attendant did. Placing a hand on his arm, she tried to exude as much confidence as she could. “We don´t know anything yet,” she reminded him gently. “Not until we get him to the hospital.”
Chris nodded absently but said nothing. After all this, after everything, Collings got what he wanted anyway. Rising slowly to his feet, he turned to where the other medic was treating his former colleague. “You bastard!” he screamed, lunging for the injured man.
Buck had just handed the backboard and collar to the medic and he hurried to grab Chris. “This ain´t gonna help nobody, stud,” he whispered fiercely. “He ain´t worth it, Chris. Vin´s the one needs you right now, ya hear?”
The words permeated Chris´ anger and he turned once again to where the female attendant and a uniformed cop were settling Vin onto the backboard. As he watched them strap him down, he knew it would cause the Texan some anxiety and hurried to his side once again. Taking one clammy hand in his, he clung to it for dear life. “It´s all right, pard,” he soothed. “We´re going to get you to the hospital and get you fixed up good as new.”
Vin searched the worried green eyes and saw the doubt there, but didn´t let on. “´K,” he replied, trying unsuccessfully to force a smile.
They left one of Denver´s finest to guard Collings until the other ambulance arrived, then loaded Vin´s stretcher in beside JD´s.
With two patients, there was no room for Chris and the driver offered to let him sit up front.
“Go on,” Buck urged. “I´ll follow as soon as Collings is taken care of.”
Chris nodded and hopped into the front seat just before the ambulance left for the hospital, sirens wailing.
+ + + + + + +
He paced outside the trauma room, oblivious to the nurses who tried to get him to take a seat in the waiting area.
“Chris!” Buck called as he hurried through the double doors at the end of the hall. “Anything?”
Chris scrubbed a hand over his weary face. “JD´s going to be fine. Bullet went clean through. They´re stitching him up now, then they want to keep him on fluids overnight to combat shock and blood loss.”
Buck nodded in relief. “And Vin?”
Chris sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Don´t know, Buck,” he said quietly. “They took him straight to surgery. Bullet´s still in there.”
Buck did the only thing he could, placing a comforting hand on his friend´s shoulder.
“Damnit!” Chris bellowed suddenly, slamming his hand against he wall beside the trauma room door. “I grabbed for that gun. I was so sure Vin was in the clear.”
“Don´t need to be travellin´ down that road at all, Chris,” Buck admonished gently. “You did the only thing you could to stop him. Hell, you don´t think Junior´s gonna know that? He was there. He knew what Collings was gonna do.”
Chris chest was heaving as he struggled with his anger and fear at the situation. “He was going… going to cripple him, Buck. Intentionally.”
“I know,” Buck said softly. “He´s a sick man, Chris. But he ain´t gonna hurt anybody else. We saw to that, both of us, and Vin knows that. As soon as he´s able, he´ll tell you we did the right thing.”
The team leader was silent for a moment, uncertain as to whether he should voice his concerns. “He can´t move his legs,” he finally whispered. “Jesus, Buck, I shouldn´t have moved him! I didn´t know. I …”
“Hey,” the ladies´ man urged, squeezing the shoulder where his hand still lay. “Listen to me, stud. You´re right, you didn´t know about the bullet. But you did know he was chokin´, Chris. There wasn´t anything else you coulda done.”
“What if…” Chris couldn´t bring himself to say it.
The big man closed his eyes to hide the pain those two little words caused. When he opened them again, he regarded Chris, still standing with his head lowered as though in defeat.
“What´d they say?” he asked quietly.
“They don´t know.” Chris was shaking his head slowly. “Could be temporary, could be…” He shuddered slightly. “They just don´t know.”
Josiah arrived with Ezra and Nathan. One look at their leader had them instantly worried.
“How´s JD?” Josiah asked, hoping to get a clue to the rest of it from Buck´s answer.
“He´s gonna be fine,” Buck responded in a quiet voice.
“And Mr. Tanner?” Ezra ventured, not at all he sure he wanted to hear the reply, but needing to know.
“He´s in surgery,” Buck answered. Glancing briefly at Chris, he added, “We don´t really know anything else just yet.”
The door before them opened and a nurse joined them. “Mr. Larabee? You can go in for a few minutes while they get Mr. Dunne´s room ready.”
Chris nodded. “Thanks,” he said simply, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He entered the room and the others followed, circling the bed where the young agent lay.
“How ya doin´, kid?” Buck grinned.
“Feel…” JD tried to respond. “Feel kinda woozy, I guess.”
“That´s the pain medication,” Nathan replied with a smile. “They musta gave you the good stuff.”
JD appreciated the attempt to cheer him, but even in his groggy state, he knew there was something going on. “Vin?” he asked.
They all looked at Chris.
“In surgery,” the blonde answered.
When it was obvious he wasn´t going to say any more, Buck tried to lighten the mood with his own brand of cheer. “You know Vin, kid,” he grinned. “It´s going to take a heap more than one bullet to keep him down.”
But it only takes one bullet to keep him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.
The words had come unbidden to the surface of Chris´ mind and he felt suddenly overwhelmed by the truth of them. In something resembling the closest thing to panic they´d ever seen in their leader, he turned and hurried from the room.
Buck moved to follow, but Josiah stopped him. “Let me,” he said calmly.
Wilmington nodded once and turned back to the bed to calm the young, injured man there.
Josiah watched Chris pace for a moment then lower himself into a chair, resting his bowed head in his hands. Taking that as his cue, the profiler quietly walked over and took a seat next to him. He didn´t say anything, knowing that Chris was the one who needed to talk.
After several minutes, he did.
“He may never walk again,” he informed the older man. “He can´t move his legs and they don´t know if it´ll ever get any better.”
Josiah considered the words for a moment. “There are many ways to travel through this life, Chris,” he began in a gentle voice. “And not one of them require the use of feet or legs. Regardless of what they tell you when that surgery´s over, Vin will still be the same man he´s always been. He´ll have his integrity, his strength, his courage, and those things, combined with the love and support of his friends will have him dancing in no time, if not on his feet, then right here.” He placed a hand on his heart. “Where it matters most.”
Chris wasn´t about to let himself be comforted. “His career will be over,” he pointed out angrily. “He´d rather die.”
“That all he lives for?” Josiah asked with a raised brow. “The job?”
“That´s not what I meant,” Chris grated.
“Oh, good,” Josiah feigned relief. “Because I was under the impression you loved him and the feeling was mutual.”
Chris was slightly surprised by the words. They never talked about the relationship between the two men. They all knew about it, supported it, even teased about it from time to time, but they never talked about it in terms of love.
“I do,” he finally replied in a quiet voice. “It is.”
Josiah nodded. “But if the doctor comes out here and tells you Vin will never walk again, that´s all going to change, right?”
“Of course not,” Chris spat, angry now. “That won´t change a damned thing about the way I feel.”
“And Vin?” Josiah prodded. “Think it´s likely to change the way he feels?”
Chris hadn´t thought about it in those terms. Oh, God, what if it did change the way Vin felt?
“I don´t know,” he admitted, giving voice to his greatest fear.
“Yes, you do,” Josiah replied firmly. “And do you know why? Because you know Vin. No doubt about it, Chris, he´ll hate like Hell having to rely on anybody. May even try to push you away at first, refuse to let you help him, but you know as well as I do that he won´t stop loving you, not for a minute. Vin Tanner just doesn´t have that in him and you should know that better than anyone.”
“How can I face him?” Chris asked after a long silence. “If I´d only seen things more clearly, none of this would have happened.”
“You´ll face him the same way he´ll face whatever outcome awaits him – with the courage God gave you and with the support of those who care about you. Neither of you have to go through this alone, Chris. Vin will need you and you´ll find yourself needing him every bit as much. The only way to get through this is together. And we´ll all be here for you both, you know that.”
Chris did know that. He knew the support of their friends could get them through almost anything.
Almost.
The conversation was cut short as a doctor approached.
“Mr. Larabee?” he greeted the man in black as he got immediately to his feet. “I´m Dr. Withers. If you´ll accompany me to my office, I´d like to discuss Mr. Tanner´s condition.”
Chris felt his knees weakening at the words. If everything was fine, the doctor would have simply told them that. They never asked you into the office to administer good news. A hand at his elbow steadied him and he introduced Josiah.
“Mr. Sanchez is welcome to join us if you´d like,” Dr. Withers smiled slightly.
“Nathan,” Chris muttered. “He´s the one with the medical experience. He´ll understand what you have to say better than any of us.”
Dr. Withers had heard numerous stories about these seven men. Knowing that it would likely save some time, he cut right to the chase. “Mr. Larabee, I understand Mr. Tanner is part of your team. If you´d like to have the others present for our conversation, I don´t see any harm whatsoever in that.”
“Thanks, Doctor,” Josiah grinned. Turning to Chris, he added, “I´ll get the others.”
Ezra volunteered to stay with JD. Though Chris was initially surprised at that, one look at the southerner´s grim expression hinted that maybe he wasn´t ready to hear the news just yet. “OK,” he nodded. “The rest of you, come with me.”
They made their way into Withers´ office and each took up a somewhat uncomfortable position before the doctor started to speak.
“The majority of Mr. Tanner´s injuries were relatively minor,” he began. “We reduced the shoulder and set the bone in his wrist while he was still under the anesthetic. He´ll require a sling for approximately six weeks; the cast should come off in four. Both injuries are on the left arm, so his right side will be unaffected. We also stitched up a wound to the back of his head and one at his hairline. Neither is any cause for concern, I assure you.”
Chris nodded once, not allowing himself to draw real comfort from the assurances until he knew more about the most important injury.
“As for the bullet wound,” the doctor continued. “Thankfully, it proved to be of a somewhat low velocity, indicating Mr. Tanner was either hit from quite a distance or in the course of something more indirect, like a ricochet, perhaps.”
Chris closed his eyes briefly. “A ricochet,” he confirmed quietly. It was the only thing that made any sense. He knew the gun was pointed well away from Vin when it went off. As he replayed it over in his head, he realized he´d heard bullets striking the metal pipes overhead and at least one piece of hardware on the wall. All his attention had been focused on keeping the gun away from Vin. He hadn´t even considered the possibility of such a fluke. “A damned ricochet.”
“Yes, well,” the doctor nodded, taking a plastic model of a spine from a shelf behind his desk. Using a pen, he pointed at an area near the bottom of the column. “The bullet entered at an angle and lodged here, close to, but not actually touching the spine. We were able to remove it without too much difficulty, but there was some bleeding and swelling in the area, compressing the spinal cord and causing Mr. Tanner´s diminished sensation and lack of motor function.”
Chris´ eyes registered a small spark of hope. “Does that mean he´ll be OK once the swelling goes down?”
The doctor took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, Mr. Larabee, there are never any easy answers where spinal injuries are concerned, and certainly no guarantees, I´m afraid. The good news is, the cord itself wasn´t hit directly. Though we were able to remove the bullet, it obviously did some damage to the tissue adjacent to the cord. Add to that the risk of further complications and I´m afraid it would be irresponsible of me to try and predict an outcome at this time.”
“Complications?” Josiah repeated.
“We´ll have to administer anti-coagulants to reduce the risk of blood clots. Unfortunately, their use could cause more bleeding, thus compressing the cord once again. Depending on the severity of such compression and allowing for the possibility of scar tissue so close to the cord, I´m afraid we´ll just have to wait and see.”
“That´s it?” Chris hissed through clenched teeth. “After all that, all you can say is we´ll have to wait and see?”
“I´m sorry, Mr. Larabee,” the doctor offered. “I wish I could give you better news, but the truth is, at this point in time, we just don´t know.”
“How long before we will know?” Nathan asked.
The doctor considered the question. “The fact that Mr. Tanner still had some sensation following the injury is a good sign, as is the fact that we were able to start treatment so quickly. He´ll be receiving an intravenous high-dose steroid called methylprednisolone for the first 23 hours. This particular therapy improves recovery by about 20%. Providing that bleeding and the resulting compression didn´t cause any permanent damage to the cord, I´d estimate we could start seeing some improvement in as little as 48 hours.”
“Does he know?” Chris asked quietly.
“I´m not sure exactly how much he was aware of when he came in,” Dr. Withers explained. “Even if he realized at the time that he couldn´t move his legs, I´m not sure he´ll remember that when he wakes up. I´ve had him moved straight to a room in the high acuity unit on the fourth floor.”
“High acuity?” Chris repeated.
“You might say it´s a step down from ICU, but needing more care than a regular ward,” the doctor explained. “Both his breathing and heart rate are stable at this point, but he´ll need to be watched very closely for neurological changes and the steroid infusion will need to be monitored.”
Chris nodded in resignation. “Can I see him?”
The doctor was about to say it would be best to wait, but the dejected set of the blonde´s shoulder touched his sense of compassion. “I think it would be good for him to see someone familiar when he wakes up,” he smiled. “Only one visitor, though. I´m afraid the others will have to wait until he´s in a regular room.”
Chris got to his feet and extended his hand to the doctor. “Thanks,” he offered.
The surgeon returned the firm handshake. “You´re quite welcome, Mr. Larabee. I only hope that I´ll be able to give you some better news soon.”
They left the office, Withers accompanying Chris to Vin´s room while the others went to see JD.
The doctor introduced Chris to the nurse who´d be monitoring Vin´s recovery. Her name was Debbie and she had a warm smile that the blonde was able to draw some comfort from. If he had to trust Vin´s care to anyone, he was glad it was this doctor and nurse who seemed so compassionate. Once he´d greeted the nurse politely, he turned his attention to the only patient in the room.
As often as it seemed to happen, Chris was never prepared for the sight of his best friend and lover lying immobile in a hospital bed.
Debbie had returned to the recovering man´s side and motioned for Chris to come closer. He slowly walked forward until he could look down into the pale face of the man he loved.
“He should start to come around shortly,” she smiled. “Go ahead and talk to him, if you´d like.”
Yeah right. What the Hell was he supposed to say that would make any of this better? I´m sorry, Vin? I should have listened to you about Collings? I´m sorry I may have done more damage by moving you? I´m sorry you may never walk again and it´s all my fault?
As though in response to his thoughts, he heard the words Vin had spoken in the shipping office.
“Ain´t your fault, Chris.”
He couldn´t help a small smile. The Texan just knew him too damned well. He´d known how Chris would feel and had tried to absolve him of the guilt, even before anything had actually happened.
If only it were that simple.
With a tired sigh, Chris sank into the chair beside the bed, reaching through the railing to take Tanner´s limp hand in his.
“Come on, pard,” he murmured softly. “If anyone can get through this, you can.”
He saw the closed eyelids flutter at his words and leaned closer. “Vin?”
“C…Chris,” Vin managed, drawing the one word out on a low moan.
“I´m right here, Vin,” Chris assured him, squeezing the hand gently. “I´m not going anywhere.”
Vin forced his eyes open to search for those of his friend and lover. “Collings?” he rasped.
“Don´t worry about him,” Chris replied, fighting down the bitterness he felt at hearing the man´s name. “He´s in custody.”
Vin tried to nod his understanding, but the pain in his head protested the movement.
“Easy,” Chris soothed, seeing the pain etched into the other man´s features. “Doc says you´ll have a nasty headache for a while, but thanks to that hard head of yours, it´s nothing serious.”
Vin lay still for a moment. “Arm hurts,” he mumbled.
“Dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist,” the blond informed him. “Guess that would hurt some.”
Silence again as the sharpshooter took stock of his injuries and the team leader waited for the dreaded question
Blue eyes opened again, growing wide with obvious alarm, or at least as wide as the swelling surrounding them would allow. “Chris?” he murmured, gripping the hand tighter in his panic. “I can´t… can´t move my legs.”
Chris had to struggle against the sudden tears. “I know,” he whispered hoarsely, using his other hand to stroke Vin´s brow gently. “You had some swelling from the bullet.”
The surgeon came forward. “Mr. Tanner?” He waited until the frantic blue eyes settled on his. “I´m Dr. Withers. I performed your surgery. You had a bullet lodged near your spinal cord. We were able to remove it, but the resultant swelling has caused some loss of feeling and motor function.”
Vin watched the doctor´s lips carefully as though trying to hear more than what was actually being said. “How long?” he asked in a raspy whisper.
Dr. Withers glanced briefly at Chris before turning his gaze back to his patient. “I´m afraid there´s no way to tell at this point. We´re doing all we can, intravenous steroids and anti-coagulants to prevent clots. All we can do is wait for the swelling to go down and see where things stand. But you´re young, strong, in good health and we were able to start treatment within a very short time. All these factors will certainly work in your favour. You could notice an improvement in as little as 48 hours. Less, perhaps.”
“And if… if I don´t?” Vin asked.
He took a deep breath. “I won´t lie to you. With spinal cord injuries, there are no guarantees. But you could recover fully.”
“Could,” Vin repeated, stressing the word as much as his tired voice would allow. He could recover fully, not he would. How could one lousy letter make such a difference? All his life words and letters had proved a challenge, and now, when he´d finally thought he had them beaten, they´d come back to wreak havoc on his life once again. That one little letter had the ability to change his world forever and there wasn´t a damned thing he could do about it.
Vin closed his eyes, trying to block out the rambling thoughts and their implications. “Oh, God,” he whispered, a single tear escaping from beneath the long lashes.
“Vin,” Chris tried to comfort his friend. “Vin, look at me.”
It took a moment for the sharpshooter to regain his composure, but he finally opened his eyes and turned them on Chris. The silent pleading in those deep pools of blue was enough to break the hardened agent´s heart.
“It´s too soon to tell anything yet,” Chris pointed out gently. “You heard the doctor, you´ve got a lot of things working in your favour. We can´t just assume the worst. You could be walking out of here any day now.”
Vin saw the pain buried beneath the glassy green surface of his lover´s gaze. Chris´ words were trying to offer reassurance, but his eyes were filled with an emotion Vin rarely saw in them.
It took only a moment to recognize it for what it was.
Chris Larabee was afraid – more so than he´d ever seen him – and that fear tore at Vin´s heart.
The eyes that were so often filled with tenderness and love were now clouded with desperation and helplessness. He couldn´t stand seeing the sadness there, knowing he was the reason, so he did the only thing he could to keep his heart intact. He closed his own eyes and turned away from the haunting sight.
“Tired,” he whispered around the lump in his throat.
Chris´ heart plummeted as he watched his lover turn away. Vin couldn´t stand to look at him, knowing he was the reason for all this. “Vin?” he whispered, the tears he´d been holding at bay now spilling unheeded from eyes wide with pain.
“Chris, please,” Vin rasped. “Not now.”
Dr. Withers watched compassionately as the man in black seemed to choke back a sob. “Mr. Larabee,” he spoke softly. “I need to perform a few tests here. If you wouldn´t mind waiting outside.”
Chris looked at him blankly for a moment, uncaring that his usually stoic face was tracked with uncustomary tears. Without a word in response to the doctor, he nodded once, then turned back to the man in the bed. “I´ll be right outside,” he whispered, squeezing the injured man´s hand gently. When he got no response, the icy grip that had taken hold of his heart tightened that much more.
+ + + + + + +
“How is he?” Nathan asked as Chris exited the room.
Chris shook his head, unable to trust his voice initially. When he´d managed to gain some semblance of control over his emotions, he raised his eyes to meet those of his fellow team members. “Doctor´s doing some tests.” He looked like he was about to say more, then merely shrugged wearily.
“Is he awake?” Josiah asked.
“Yeah,” Chris replied quietly.
“Does he know?” Ezra prodded gently.
Chris nodded his head reluctantly before a hitching breath escaped his throat. “He turned away from me,” he whispered brokenly. “He was looking at me, silently begging me to tell him it was going to be all right, but I just couldn´t. Then, he just … just turned away.”
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. “He told me it wasn´t my fault,” he whispered, “but it is and he knows it.” He took a deep shaky breath. “Oh, God, what am I going to do if…”
The three agents surrounded him immediately, as though to shield him from the pain. Ezra laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “None of this is your doing, Chris,” he reminded the blonde, dropping the formal tone he usually used. “Vin knows that. He knows it.”
“Ezra´s right, Chris,” Nathan added. “Vin wouldn´t blame you and he wouldn´t want you blaming yourself.”
“Can´t carry another man´s guilt for him,” Josiah said softly. “There´s only one man responsible for all this and that´s Collings.”
Chris tried to draw comfort from his friends´ words, but all he could see was Vin turning away, closing his eyes to Chris and everything that was between them.
One shot. One single millisecond in time and suddenly everything had changed. It was almost surreal and at the same time achingly familiar. To think, it had all started in that same alley all those years ago. Another shot, another life forever changed.
It had all come full circle and Vin had been the one forced to unfairly bear the tragic consequences.
He dragged his thoughts back to the present as the door opened and Dr. Withers appeared. Standing straight, he met the surgeon´s gaze head on. “Well?”
“While he still has no motor function, he continues to have some sensation,” the doctor reported.
“That´s a good sign,” Nathan pointed out.
“It´s as close to one as we´re going to get right now,” Withers agreed. “We´ll continue to monitor his response to stimuli and that may give us a hint as to his chances for recovery.”
“Can I go in?” Chris asked.
The doctor hesitated only briefly before replying. “He´s indicated a desire to be alone,” he answered. “He´s still suffering from the effects of the anesthetic and we´ve had to insert a catheter until he regains some control of his lower body. Right now, rest is the best thing for him. Debbie will keep a close watch on him, I assure you.”
Chris hung his head but nodded his acceptance of the words.
“You´re welcome to wait in the lounge,” Withers offered. “I´ll have someone come for you when he wakes up.”
“I´ll just wait here,” Chris replied. If he couldn´t be by Vin´s side, he´d damned well be as close as possible.
The doctor considered arguing that suggestion, but one look at the blonde´s determined face told him it would be fruitless. He´d seen the man´s reaction when Tanner had turned away from him and knew it had cut deep. “He just needs a little time,” he said gently. “It´s a lot for him to handle right now.”
Chris nodded, not trusting his voice in the face of such open compassion.
“I´ll be back to check on him in another hour,” Withers promised.
Chris watched him go and settled in to wait, once again leaning against the wall.
“Can we get you anything, Chris?” Nathan asked. “Coffee, maybe?”
Chris shook his head. “There´s no reason for all of you to stay,” he said wearily. “I´ll call if anything changes.”
The other three exchanged glances, knowing that none of them would be leaving any time soon. Ezra was the first to put voice to his thoughts on the matter. “Well, I, for one, could use some coffee, Mr. Jackson, if you are, indeed, offering.”
“Me too, brother,” Josiah added.
“Two coffees coming up,” Nathan nodded. “You sure, Chris?”
Chris looked at each of them in turn, understanding exactly what was being offered and that it was a lot more than just coffee. “Hell, why not,” he finally said.
They´d never been good at following orders anyway.
And at the moment, Chris couldn´t be more grateful for that fact.