"Paulson and his henchmen really did a number on him, didn’t they," Buck spoke quietly, continuing to look through the window at Vin.He hadn’t been there for the emergency room doctor’s initial assessment. When AD Travis had finally released him from the crime scene and he’d gotten to the hospital, he’d been filled in by the others on Vin’s condition. Hell, he’d seen the man when they’d gotten to that house, but he was still shocked at what he saw now.
"Plastic surgeon said she put over a hundred stitches on his back alone," JD remarked.
"And between all the wounds on his back, the broken ribs and the dislocated shoulder," Nathan added, "there probably ain’t no painless position for him to lay in. I hope they at least give him some good meds…"
"Ain’t no part of him, seems, that don’t got a bandage coverin’ it," Buck sighed.
"I still don’t understand," JD spoke up. "Chris said it was some case-related vendetta. That Paulson had it out for Vin for some reason. But… this…," he shook his head. "It doesn’t make any sense."
"No, it doesn’t," Ezra responded. "If it was just Paulson, one could write it off to mental instability."
"I mean," JD continued, oblivious to Ezra’s response. "I thought I heard Paulson or White call Vin a homo. How stupid is that?" he asked.
"They’re just spoutin’ nonsense, JD. Anything to make what they did seem justified," Buck responded. "What Chris said about the case thing is true. I remember Paulson and some of his boys bitchin’ about us getting the McMurtry case because that put them on backup status, bottom of the barrel," he added, lying to try and get JD and the others on a different track. "They were real pissed because Vin used his Marshal’s office connections or something," he added. God, he hoped that worked.
"Yes, I seem to recall Mr. Tanner mentioning that Mr. Wilkes was one of his collars back when he was a Marshal," Ezra added. "And if I recall correctly, before Mr. Tanner was a member of our illustrious team, Mr. Paulson’s team was on top, getting all the ‘good’ cases."
Buck looked quickly at the southerner, wondering if Ezra was lying or if he’d just been lucky with his own lie. He couldn’t tell by the expression he saw, but it seemed to placate the others’ questions. For now.
"Fuckin’ jealousy," Nathan murmured.
+ + + + + + +
Josiah pushed open the double doors to the hospital chapel and found Chris sitting in a pew, head bent. The big man took a seat a short distance away from Chris on the same pew.
"Didn’t figure you as a man who trusted in God," he said.
Chris sniffled and cleared his throat. Lifting his head, he let it loll backward as he sighed. "Can’t say exactly what I’m praying to, but I sure know what I’m praying for."
"Vin’s swift recovery," Josiah stated, nodding his head in agreement.
"Most importantly that," Chris said massaging the bridge of his nose.
"And?"
Chris peeked out from behind lowered eyelids. "Nothing. What else is there to pray for?"
"Vengeance?"
"You can’t imagine how bad…." he said then stopped. "But you’d say that one belongs to the Lord."
"So He sayeth," Josiah responded. "How about forgiveness?"
Chris straightened up and looked directly at the deep-voiced man beside him. "Yeah, I could use some of that," he said sadly. "But I don’t deserve it," he added in a cracked whisper.
"I was referring to your forgiveness for Paulson."
"That’ll never happen, Josiah," Chris swore through clenched teeth.
The big man studied his boss, who stared vacantly ahead. "Chris," he began tentatively. "Whatever Paulson’s issue was with Vin, it is not your fault this happened."
"You don’t understand, Josiah," Chris said despondently, casting his eyes down to the clenched fists in his lap.
"No, I didn’t. But I’m beginning to."
When the ATF leader gasped in panic, Josiah knew he’d hit upon the truth. "I’m not really shocked, Chris," he said softly. "Well, maybe a little," he confessed with a shrug and small smile.
"I…we…" Chris wasn’t sure if there was something appropriate to say. If there was, he didn’t know what it was. He turned pain-filled eyes to his friend and implored him with his look to not judge too harshly.
Josiah laid a compassionate hand on the lawman’s arm. "It’s your lives, Chris. Who am I to say what you should or shouldn’t do?"
Chris’s mouth worked at forming words of explanation, defense, but nothing came out.
Josiah spoke again. "If this was a hate crime, though, brother, you’ve got to be very careful. You’re right not to trust others to always understand."
"That’s just the point, Josiah," Chris said finally finding his voice. "We’ve obviously not been discreet, even when we thought we were. God," he sighed, raking his hand through his hair, "I shoulda never let this happen."
"Who can stop the feelings our hearts develop? If you can do that, you are a stronger person than anyone I know."
Clasping Josiah’s hand, Chris stood up. "No. Just the opposite." After a pause he asked in a small voice, as if afraid to hear the answer, "How’d ya know?"
Josiah smiled. "Didn’t—‘til I let my mind open to the possibility. Then it seemed perfectly evident. You two have a natural way with each other." The big man shrugged. "Don’t worry, boss. I just know you better than most."
"Yeah," Chris said, thinking that everyone seemed to know him better than he did himself. And that’s what was worrying him.
+ + + + + + +
"I swear! They told me they were just gonna rough him up a bit. Scare him, you know?"
Orrin Travis looked down at the young agent before him. Mark Jenkins had only been with the Bureau for a year. He was barely out of the academy and now his career was over.
"You call beating, whipping and sodomizing a man ‘roughing him up a bit?’ Scaring him?" he questioned, leaning over the younger man.
"No!" Jenkins exclaimed tearfully. "I didn’t have any part of that! I wouldn’t have gone along if I knew they were gonna do that!"
"So you went along, because…" Travis began, waiting for the young man to finish the sentence.
"I don’t have anything against gays," he started. "I was just trying to fit in. Be a part of the team. It’s bad enough being the rookie. But trying to live up to those other guys – Paulson and Martin. Damn, those guys are as legendary as Larabee and his team," he finished, bowing his head.
"But even just ‘roughing up’ a fellow agent. Sort of extreme, don’t you think?" the older man asked.
"I just wanted to fit in," Jenkins repeated quietly. Then, looking up to meet Travis’s gaze, he said, "Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. I didn’t think he’d get hurt. I’m sorry."
"Bennett," Travis called in one of the Internal Affairs men. "Place him under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder. After you’re done with the processing, I want a sworn statement from him."
+ + + + + + +
"No…no…no more…Please… Chris… no more…"
The whimpered cries were repeated over and over, spilling forth over the swollen and bruised lips. The nurses were almost used to it now, having heard their patient’s pleas each time they changed a bandage or adjusted an IV tube. Their own soothing words, "It’s okay, Vin. You’re safe now. You’re at the hospital now," were repeated just as often. And if not from their lips, they came from Chris Larabee’s. Like this time.
"Easy, Vin. I’m here," he soothed, gently grasping the fingertips of Vin’s left hand.
The others, with Buck’s none-too-subtle but persuasive methods, had taken a break. The blonde finally felt comfortable enough to give in to the need to touch his lover, no longer worried about prying eyes. At the warm touch, Vin wearily blinked open his eye and settled an unfocused gaze upon his best friend.
"Feel… like… shit," he managed to say in a harsh whisper, wincing as he spoke.
Chris flinched at the sound and sight. He wished he could take all of Vin’s pain away. And he actually looked worse now than he had before, the hospital lighting showing all the bruises. Chris tightened his hold on the fingers, felt them make a feeble attempt at returning the grasp.
"Ev..ry..body…know?" Vin asked, afraid of the answer.
"They know what happened to you," Chris replied. "We’re trying to keep Paulson and his boys quiet. Everything short of bullets through their heads," he added.
Vin closed his eye and nodded as much as the throbbing in his head would allow.
"They’re only accusations, Vin," Chris added quickly, knowing what Vin was thinking. "No one’s asked a direct question. Nobody knows for sure about us." He sighed and ran a hand through his short locks when the younger man looked at him again. "Except," he sighed again, "Buck knew already. And Josiah figured it out a couple of hours ago."
Even through the swelling and bruising Vin’s panic was evident. "They…gonna…?"
"No, no, they’re okay," Chris assured him. "Least, I think they are," he shrugged, a small crease settling across his brow. "Buck is, anyway…" he trailed off.
"I’m sorry," the sharpshooter rasped. "Shoulda…been more…careful." He shifted his position slightly, a groan escaping his lips.
"God, Vin," Chris admonished, not believing Vin could possibly be blaming himself.
"So…sorry…" Vin slipped into a drugged haze, his fingers slipping out of Chris’s. The lawman sat desolately staring at Vin’s battered and bandaged body, willing his pain and his own fury to subside. He needed to be able to think and act responsibly—for both of them. If he had been doing that earlier, this would have never happened. Paulson and God-knew-who-else wouldn’t have gotten even an inkling that something was going on between him and Vin. Chris couldn’t shake the burden that had settled on his shoulders from the instant he received Paulson’s first vicious phone call. Vin was in dire trouble and Chris should have seen it coming, or, more importantly, prevented it.
Chris was the elder here. He was a smart man with years of training in reading situations, assessing characters, and making difficult decisions. He was a leader. But he’d relinquished his position of control and authority when it came to Vin. He’d been bowled over by the intensity of feelings the younger man summoned in him. Chris had, despite spoken pledges of caution and secrecy, succumbed to his emotions and let his natural guard down. The result of his carelessness and stupidity lay before him. He thought he would never be able to rectify this supreme error in judgment and both wished and feared that Vin would cast full blame on him. Chris Larabee wanted more than anything to atone for having brought this horror on his best friend.
At length Vin stirred but didn’t try to open his one good eye. "Chris?"
"I’m right here," Chris spoke soothingly, snapping out of his morbid reverie.
"Anyone….around?"
"You mean the guys? No, they’ve all gone to eat."
"I…mean…anyone."
Chris glanced up at the window. Nurses worked busily at their station. A few people stood in a clutch and spoke animatedly among themselves. Nobody was paying attention to the men in this room.
"No, Vin. Why?"
Vin gulped, scrunching his face against the pain, then whispered, "Touch me?"
A lump formed so quickly in Chris’s throat that he couldn’t even speak a response. He lifted his hand and searched the battered and broken body for a place to lay a caring hand, a gentle caress, some form of compassion. He settled for cupping the side of Vin’s head, softly stroking his fingers through the tangle of long curls. Vin let out a long sigh, the corner of his mouth roughly mimicking a smile. Chris cleared his throat and whispered to his lover, "When you get outta here Cowboy, I ain’t never gonna stop—"
Chris ceased talking abruptly, sitting back in the chair next to the bed. A moment later Vin heard a nurse’s voice as she entered the room. When she had made sure Vin’s vital signs were within normal limits and made adjustments to the IV drips, she left and a tense silence filled the space between the two men.
Finally, Vin said, "Don’t let ‘em…run you…out."
Chris hunched forward in his chair, bringing himself closer to the recumbent man. "We’re gonna be fine, Vin—both of us. I swear to you. No one’s getting rid of us. If anything we’re gonna fix it so’s nobody else ever gets hurt like--"
"No!" Vin hissed through gritted teeth. "Leave it, Chris." Vin grunted in pain, taking a gasping breath. "I got us in…enough…trouble. Leave it…alone."
"Can’t do that, Pard." Chris wagged his head for emphasis. "And, you didn’t make this happen," he argued, leaning close to Vin’s ear to prevent possible eavesdropping from passers-by. "We’re a team in this and that’s the way it’s gonna stay. Don’t even start thinking different. Nothing’s changed, Vin. Nothing."
While Chris had been talking Vin’s breathing had become quiet and steady. Thinking his injured partner had fallen asleep, Chris whispered softly, "I won’t let anything happen to you ever again, Vin. You know how I feel about ya, Cowboy."
"I know," came the raspy voice in response and Chris felt the tiniest pressure on his fingers before Vin surrendered to drugged sleep.
+ + + + + + +
Buck excused himself and went to unload the three beers he’d belted down at dinner. He’d finally convinced his four teammates to leave Vin in Chris’s care long enough to grab a bite at a nearby diner. The beers brought a minor, though welcome, buzz that helped take the edge off the apprehension that had settled in his gut as Chris and Vin’s dilemma came to light. What had begun as a laughable suspicion months ago, slowly emerged as a reality that Buck thought, frankly, was a little surprising. But what had surprised him even more was how easily he had adapted to the idea of his long-time friend in the arms of another man—and that one yet another close friend. They just worked together. It wasn’t very scientific, but that was it. They worked.
Buck sighed at the thought. How in hell were they going to get through this without the whole damn thing blowing up in their faces? And what would become of the team? The idea that the group might possibly suffer as well brought a new wave of dismay to the mustached agent.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Buck startled at the proximity of Josiah’s voice, realizing the older man had joined him in the bathroom and Buck hadn’t even been aware of it. He shrugged and pulled up his zipper. "Just the obvious. Worried as all hell about Vin…" Buck avoided looking directly at Josiah who finished his own business at the next urinal.
"Hmmm. Aren’t we all? You seemed deep in thought and I wondered if maybe there was something more we don’t all know about?"
Buck squinted at the ex-preacher as if to divine his underlying meaning. "No…ain’t nothin’ else I can think of…"
"No…complications to the situation?" Josiah suggested.
"Such as?"
It was Josiah’s turn to do the surveying. He stared at Buck, then stated bluntly, "I know about them." As Buck started to protest his ignorance, Josiah threw out, "—and I want to know how we can work together to help them."
At dinner, the group had discussed Vin’s abduction and torture from every possible angle. Except, of course, that Buck had purposely steered the speculation as far away from the truth as possible. Now he looked back at the conversation and realized he had had an ally in that mission and he knew that Josiah was speaking from knowledge and truth.
"You ain’t all shocked or nothin’?"
Josiah’s mouth turned up in one of his enigmatic smiles. "Didn’t say that. But my own comfort level isn’t the issue right now as I see it. It’s protecting two men I love and respect. You want to help me?"
Buck scrubbed his hands across his tired face and sighed deeply. "’Course I do, Josiah. I’m just leery of everybody right now. Most folks don’t take too kindly to finding out that people they thought they knew inside and out have actually been living in a closet, ya know?"
"You seem to be taking it in your stride," Josiah observed.
"Yeah, well," Buck kicked at a speck in the floor. "I come from…an unusual background. I’m more tolerant than most."
"So the idea of Chris and Vin as lovers sits fine with you?"
"What?" JD came around the tiled wall of the men’s room and confronted the two tall agents. "What kind of sick bullshit are you guys saying—?!" JD’s cheeks flushed a deep rose and sparks of confusion and anger lit his eyes.
+ + + + + + +
Chris woke up to a hand on his shoulder.
"I’m sorry, Chris," Travis whispered as he sat down next to the exhausted agent.
Chris had been escorted out of the ICU only half an hour ago and decided to curl up on the couch in its waiting room.
"How’s Vin?" the AD asked.
"Better, I guess," Chris replied, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Chris…," the older man hesitated just a moment before saying, "I need to know what happened to Vin, now… and why. Get a statement from you, too. And… I need to warn you about what’s going to happen."
The blonde looked carefully at Travis, meeting his gaze, judging the man. He saw compassion and a need for the truth in those eyes.
"Paulson set Vin up," he began with a sigh. "Lured him to the park using one of Vin’s snitches. After they took Vin, he called me. White picked me up at the Post Office on Market Street and brought me to the house. When I got there I saw Jenkins upstairs and they gagged me. White brought me down to the basement." He had to pause then, remembering the sight of Vin’s bloody body as it was draped over the chair. "They’d already beaten and whipped him. And as if that wasn’t enough," he continued, his anger seething again, "if that wasn’t enough, they cuffed him to a chair and had me watch as they fucked him with the whip handle. All in the good name of the Bureau," he finished, struggling to keep his temper in check, suddenly hating being a part of an organization that would hire men like Conrad Paulson.
Travis closed his eyes, sighing inwardly, still not believing what men, men he had thought of as good, dedicated law enforcement officers, had done to a fellow agent.
"So does everybody think he’s gay? That he and I are both gay?" Chris asked abruptly.
"That’s what I need to warn you about, Chris," the other man responded. "You know we have to do a thorough investigation. In addition to Vin’s injuries, two other agents were injured and two were killed. We just can’t sweep this under the carpet," he paused to let the information sink in. When Chris nodded his acknowledgement of the facts, he continued. "The evidence is all there and Jenkins is willing to give us a full statement as to the rest of the team’s involvement. But between his statement and whatever we get from Paulson and White… the reason for the attack is going to be out there. Whether you and Vin deny those accusations or not is up to you. It’s not going to be easy either way."
"What do you think?" the younger man asked.
"What I think is irrelevant," Travis replied, trying to stay objective. "My job is to see that Paulson and his men pay for what they’ve done and to give you and Vin all the support I can."
+ + + + + + +
Buck and Josiah turned in shock at JD’s sudden appearance and outburst.
"JD-," Buck began.
"What the hell are you two talking about?!" the young man demanded. "You’re saying that Paulson and White were right about Vin?"
"No, JD. We’re not," Josiah cut in firmly. "We were merely speculating on the rumor. Wondering why Paulson and his boys could possibly believe it to be true."
"No. I heard you ask Buck if he thought it was fine if Chris and Vin were lovers," JD insisted, disgust in his voice when he said the word ‘lovers.’
"Okay, JD," Buck returned, standing closer to the junior agent, looking down upon him. "Maybe he did. And IF it was true, not that it would be any of our business, I’d be okay with it. But you know what? All that’s out there are rumors and accusations from a bunch of good ol’ boys who think that anybody with long hair or an earring is a flamin’ homosexual. And I’m not a man that starts mean and nasty rumors, or gives in to believing them, neither." He stood staring at JD for a moment longer, keeping his temper in check, angry at the intolerance in the younger man.
Making sure the point got across, Josiah added, "And Conrad Paulson is just a plain mean old sonofabitch. He’s had it out for anybody that steals his glory for more years than I can count. The fact that he took his grudge out on Chris and Vin this time, and decided to add a nasty rumor to his deed, is just the proof that the man is unstable and should have been kicked out of the Bureau years ago."
JD looked away then, trying to come up with his own explanation for the events. Trying to figure out whether to put merit in Paulson and White’s accusations or Buck and Josiah’s explanations. He knew he should believe his friends. Hell, he’d never thought Vin or for that matter, Chris, who’d been married, to be gay before. Why should he believe it now? Why should he believe the words of the madmen that hurt his friends?
"You guys fall in, or what?" Nathan called from the doorway. When he saw the serious looks on the three turned faces, he rethought his little attempt at a joke. "Everything okay?" he asked.
Buck cocked an eyebrow toward JD.
"Yeah, just fine, Nathan," Josiah responded. "Me and JD were just trying to drag Buck outta here. Keep him from writing down all the phone numbers on the walls in here."
+ + + + + + +
Vin came awake suddenly to the insistent voice of a nurse. "Mr. Tanner, I’m Madeline. I’m sorry to have to wake you, but I need to check your vital signs and change some dressings. I didn’t want to startle you."
Vin was fresh out of arguments. He remembered putting up a big fuss earlier when other nurses and a doctor had come in to check his bottom – see the results of the surgery. He had gotten pretty ugly then. He didn’t blame this Madeline for warning him first. He was starting to get a rep as a very unwilling patient. But, shit, he was as miserable as he could ever remember being.
On top of it all was Chris, who was trying to act normal, but couldn’t. It made Vin doubly aware of how strained and awkward their circumstances were; how desperately he wanted to erase the last few days; how badly he needed to be held and cared for; how certain he was he’d never let this sort of thing happen again.
Another aggravation was AD Travis, who was waiting expectantly for him to spill his guts. Hell would freeze over first.
Then there was the team, who seemed to think Vin couldn’t mend without one of them always being there. God, he was an ungrateful shit, but the effort of keeping up a front with most of them was taking its toll.
At least Buck was an easy visit. The first time Vin had come to and found Buck there, the big man had gently taken his hand and said, "You don’t have to pretend a damn thing with me. Wanna talk, we’ll talk. Wanna be quiet, that’s what we’ll do." Vin had simply nodded. Buck sat, Vin drifted in and out of his nightmare, neither spoke, and Vin felt good about it. Buck was a comforting presence.
"That’s fine, Mr. Tanner," Madeline said, laying Vin’s arm down and removing the blood pressure cuff. "I know this is uncomfortable, but let’s try to get you a little more on your side." Together nurse and patient made minuscule movements toward shifting Vin’s weight and exposing more of his back. "Now I’m going to...." Madeline kindly informed Vin about her upcoming moves but he chose to let his mind drift to take him out of the moment.
When Ezra had come, he’d been so busy talking about himself that Vin hadn’t had to worry about deflecting awkward questions. Sometimes Vin thought that Ezra simply liked the sound of his voice and the way it rolled around them big words Ezra was so fond of. It occurred to Vin that Ezra was talking extra much when he was there and he realized that Ez was nervous. Nervous around him! This was the kind of thing he had always wanted to avoid. No matter how much any of them might say they didn’t believe, or didn’t mind, there would always be a strain that made the friendship before "The Rumor" different from the one after. Didn’t matter if he and Chris denied it ‘til the end of time. Still, Ez helped him pass the time by blowing hot air about some wild-ass story or other.
Nate was a good friend, but Vin could tell he was real uncomfortable and had plenty of questions he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. Vin pretty much maintained his silence with Nate, too, but not for the same reasons as he did with Buck and Ezra. There was a tension between them that had never been there before. After Nathan’s visits, Vin would get surlier than usual.
Often Chris showed up about then and the person who least deserved Vin’s anger and venom got a gutful of it. He didn't say so to anyone, but Vin spent a lot of time lying there thinking about why this had happened to him and how he could make it so it would, one, go away, and two, never ever be something that might be repeated. As a result, he hadn’t done a whole lot of talking to Chris either. It hurt too much. And not just to flap his jaw.
Once Vin thought he saw JD at the doorway to the room, but the kid never had come in. At least not while he was awake, which admittedly wasn’t all that much. It gnawed at him that JD wasn’t dealing with the possibility that Paulson’s accusations were true. He didn’t even have to see him to know the look that JD would give him. That look of sheer disbelief that he might have been so fully deceived while trusting him and Chris. God, he just didn’t want to think about it.
This was Vin’s worst fucking nightmare coming true, only it was tenfold what he had imagined it might be. Who knew a person could hurt in so many ways at the same time? There were times the tears flowed all on their own, like his body needed to cry even if his mind wasn’t working on it. If he was a complaining sort, he would scream out to anyone who would listen that his skin felt like it had been shaved off, chewed up, and slapped back on. That the simple act of opening his eyes was excruciating. That he knew exactly how many ribs a man had because every single one of his was as tender as a newborn’s skull. That his insides felt like they’d been rearranged by Dr. Frankenstein. That raising his arm the three inches it took to move a tube or have his pulse taken, made him gulp air to keep from puking from the pain. That his butt felt like it had had a new hole drilled in it. And that none of that--or even all of that together—wasn’t as bad as the humiliation of knowing his friends looked at him like he was a scourge on society. And above it all was the devastating loss of the most perfect thing he’d ever had--the pure goodness of his relationship with Chris.
"...peel off this layer of gauze now....."
"Aaaahhh!!!" Vin’s attention came full force back to the present as Madeline removed the dressing and packing around one of the deepest lashes. His own flinching caused him to rock onto his back, extracting another anguished cry as the criss-cross of stitched skin on his back hit the bed. One reactive gesture led to another until Vin had twisted himself like a contortionist across the bed, crying for relief from the onslaught of pain. Madeline managed to hit the call button for help while preventing him from disconnecting the various tubes transporting fluids to and from his body. Orderlies arrived at the same time as Josiah, who was coming on his shift as Vin-guardian. Rushing to Vin’s side, Josiah grasped the least damaged-looking parts of his arms and spoke in a soothing low voice.
"Vin, try to relax and let them help you." Running a large gentle hand across Vin’s furrowed brow, Josiah continued a soft monologue in Vin’s ear, trying to calm him while the medical personnel worked to finish the job and settle the patient as comfortably as possible.
Before the task was done, however, Vin’s stamina crumbled and he gave in to a flood of tears. Grasping a pillow, he buried his face in it and wailed, unable to stem the anger, bitterness, embarrassment, and plain old hurt that consumed him. The hospital staff finished their adjustments to him and his attendant equipment and quietly left Vin in Josiah’s care.
When he couldn’t wrench another tear from his drained body, Vin raised his face from the pillow and shuddered a deep sigh. Through tear-sparkled lashes, he looked defiantly at Josiah who waited patiently in a chair next to the bed.
"You think," Vin whispered harshly with his damaged voice, "this is God’s punishment?"
The gray-haired man dropped his chin to his chest and shook his large head. Looking up at Vin, he said, "I thought you knew me better than that."
"You probably thought…you knew me, too," Vin pointed out.
They stared at each other.
At length Josiah smiled lightly and said, "And I thought I knew Chris, and JD, and Buck and--well, no one’s behaving the way I thought they would."
Josiah shrugged. Vin looked away. After a few moments of silence, Vin finally spoke in a small voice.
"I never meant for this to happen."
Josiah leaned forward and spoke earnestly. "Of course you didn’t, Vin. No one’s saying anything of the sort."
Vin pressed on, needing to confide at last in someone. "I didn’t set out to find me a man—much less Chris. It just...happened. At the time, it seemed so right..."
"Vin, I learned a long time ago not to judge. Ever. Unless you walk around in someone else’s place, you can’t know all the hows and whys and it isn’t right to assume you know better for someone else than they know for themselves."
"’Preciate it, Josiah, but yer one man. What about the rest?"
"You want everyone to like you? That’s not gonna happen, Vin. There’s too many different kinds of people in the world."
"No. Just don't want the rest of ‘em tryin’ to kill me for bein’...what I am."
"That seems fair enough," Josiah conceded.
"How am I gonna fix this, Josiah? How?" Vin’s question was full of despair.
"You’ll know the right thing to do when the time comes, Vin. You’ll know," Josiah said tapping his own chest in the region of his heart. "But first, get yourself fixed. Rest now. I’ll be right here if you want to talk again later."
Vin had already closed his eyes, a trace of ease settling in between the pain and anguish. Maybe Josiah was right. Maybe he’d instinctively know how to correct this mess.
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