Setting: ATF Universe
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: Music and Lyrics "I believe in Father Christmas" by Emerson lake and Palmer. I hadn't planned on a Christmas story , but heard this song on the radio last night at midnight, coming from work and thought of this story.
MERRY CHRISTMAS
They said there'll be snow at Christmas
They said there'll be peace on Earth
But instead it just kept on raining
A veil of tears for the Virgin's birth....
The unforgiving wind whipped around the corner, biting the back of the elderly woman. She tucked her head closer to her chest, as she was forced up the walkway at a unnatural speed. Twice, she peeked up through the snow squall and squinted at the building ahead. The steps were covered with several inches of fresh powder and it made the trip difficult. Finally, she made it to the top, holding her headpiece on and making her way to the large, ornate doors. Then she hit a patch of ice and would have fallen, if not for a pair of strong hands.
"Ya okay, Sister?" Vin Tanner shouted over the wind, while steadying the small figure.
"Yes, thanks to you young man," she paused and looked at the handsome features, bright red from the wind and the long hair, now covered by a white shadow. He had no gloves and only an old buckskin jacket. Frowning, she felt his frozen fingers on her write as they guided her towards the door. "You're freezing! Come inside..." She waited until the massive door was opened and the strong head guided her inside. The warmth of the church was embraced and welcomed by both figures. "There, that's much better. Thank you again."
"...s'okay, Sister," Vin's teeth were chattering, he'd debated outside the door far too long. As if reading his mind, he looked down and saw the brown eyes of the older woman studying him.
"How long were you out there?"
"Too long," Vin replied, trying to calm his jumping arms. "Can seem t'warm up..."
"Have you journeyed far?"
"I walked over from the hospital..."
She was about to reply but the combination of the pain in his voice and the emotion in the large blue eyes made her pause. Then, they were interrupted.
"Sister Michael Anne, we were worried!"
"Father McGuire you worry too much!" She retorted, "I perfectly capable of coming over from the convent. I'm not the rocking chair type..."
Vin grinned at that, seeing a spark in the dark eyes. He looked closer and saw the short gray hair peeking from under a hat. The large silver cross was a Native American design, and he noted her features seemed to convey that background.
"The choir is ready and Mrs. Chase is anxious to get started," the puffy-faced pastor noted of the high-strung organist. "Her husband is coming promptly at ten to pick he up and..."
"Yes, yes, yes," she waved him off, shaking her head. I'll be right up..." She waited until he retreated and rolled her eyes. "A good man but a bit too old fashioned for me...Now where were we? Oh," she took his arm and led him inside and up the main aisle.
"Oh, hey, look Sister," he stopped and shook his head, "I wasn't gonna...I don't need...I mean..."
"Young Man," she interrupted, "I've been following my instincts since I took my vows over fifty years ago. Whatever is causing that awful anguish in your heart, needs to be purged. I've someone you need to meet."
Vin found himself following the fiesty nun to the side of the church where a manger was displayed. It was several feet high and well made. Beneath the wooden structure were the figures of Joseph, Mary and the infant Jesus. There were shepherds, sheep, wisemen and a drummer boy. Several angels completed the Nativity. He moved past her, drawn to the very realistic infant. There was a light shining from him...and Vin couldn't tear himself away from the radiance in the small face. He sat down in the front pew, mezmerized by the scene. Fortunately for him, the wicked cold spell outside and his long jaunt covered the real reason he was trembling. The quaking limbs didn't come close to the tremors riding inside him. He sighed heavily, his heart torn on what choice to make. He felt a soft touch and jumped a bit, then relaxed at the strong brown eyes.
"Here," she handed him a mug full of steaming liquid, "You look like the hot chocolate type. I'm usually a pretty good judge..." she waited and saw a brief smile and patted his shoulder. "Good...you take all the time you need. He's a good listener..."
"Thanks..." Vin offered, watching the elderly nun make her way up to the choir loft. He sipped the sweet mixture and let the mug warm his icy hands. As the harmonious voices filled the church, bearing words of a holy night long ago, he let his mind drift back in time. Just a little over twenty-four hours ago...before his world exploded.
"Hey, Chris, grab me a beer!" Nate Jackson hollered from where he and Ezra were wrapping a pile of toys to be donated to the Children's Hospital. Josiah and Buck were finished their pile and leaving them on the porch, where J.D. and Vin were packing them in the back of Chris's truck.
Buck paused in the doorway, the sharp call of the voices of the ATF team's youngest members calling from the large grounds below. He laughed as J.D. dodged, narrowly missing a snow missle launched by the Denver's finest sniper, Vin Tanner. Josiah wore an easy smile too, since Tanner joined the team several months before, a sense of balance reigned. After a dozen or more icy balls of snow were exchanged, Vin got his in the face and leaped down from the back of the truck.
"Yer dead, Kid!" he hollered, scampering after the laughing Bostonian.
"Give 'im Hell, J.D.!" Buck hollered, shaking his head as Dunne slipped and Tanner dove on him. The two wrestled, rolling down a hill of snow. The tall rogue happened to glance into the kitchen and spotted the team's leader, Chris Larabee, gazing wistfully out the window. He eyes were trained on the nimble Texan, whose distinctive drawl was heard all over the property. Buck couldn't help smile at the grin Larabee wore. He came inside and poured a cup of coffee, then heard Vin's whooping war call of victory. Laughter spilled from the blond leader's lips and his eyes crinkled in mirth. Wilmington turned back and saw the lean Texan sitting on the struggling Easterner, both hands raised in victory. That relaxed stance Larabee now had, the peace he'd found, was due to he unassuming long-haired sharpshooter. He raised his coffee mug and toasted the handsome young man, who was trudging back toward the house.
"Thank you, Vin Tanner," he whispered, glad to have his oldest friend back.
"They could have used your skill and tactical expertise at the Alamo," Ezra saluted, as the first of the wet, frozen pair entered the house.
"Y'all saw that?" Vin whooped again, grinning from ear to ear. "I washed his face clear t'the bone."
"J.D., I gotta learn you better!" Buck smacked the wet coat and laughed at the snow in the youth's ears, nose and down his shirt. "Damn, that boy whomped you but good..."
"I fell..." J.D. tried, trying to make his frozen fingers work the zipper on his coat.
"Bullshit!" the jubilient victor challenged, tossing his coat to the grinning Southerner. "Hell, Larabee ain't ya got the vittles done? We've been doin' all the work. Leastwise ya could get the food ready."
"No!" Chris put both hands up at the sopping duo. "Get those wet things off. You troop that mess in the kitchen, it melts on the floor, somebody falls and we end up in the ER. Go change...food's almost ready."
The smells from the kitchen assaulted the the soaking pair and they quickly departed for the utility room, changing into sweats while their clothes tumbled in the dryer. Because of the second entrance in the room off Chris's kitchen, they grabbed two plates and were loading them up with food, when the rest entered.
"Jesus!" Buck complained, "When's the last time you two saw food?"
"Shut up, Buck," Dunne hollered back, before Vin stuffed a garlic stick in his mouth.
"Thank you for leaving a morsel or two for the rest of us." Ezra grumbled, picking up the lone stuffed sHell that remained.
"I got more..." Chris grinned, eyeing the overloaded plates. "Vin, finish what you have before you take more, you're gonna get sick."
"Never happen," the smug Texan predicted with a wink to his best friend.
Buck watched the two youngest disappear into the den, settling down at the coffee table. He also saw that grin appear on Larabee's face again. Yes, Tanner not only complimented the team, he completed it as well. He restored a part of Larabee's soul, that Wilmington thought was lost forever. Gone up in the smoke that rose over the charred ruins of the fire that took the lives of Sara and Adam Larabee.
Later, after coffee and many desserts were consumed, a hockey game played on the television and the group was sprawled around Chris's den. Buck was walking by the sofa, where Tanner's lean body was sprawled. The blue eyes were half-mast and a soft snore was sounding. The older man squinted and bent over, then grinned and pulled up the warm flannel shirt.
"Hey, Vin, look at that!" he marveled.
"Damn!" the shaggy head came up and a smile split the handsome Texan's face. He ran his fingers over the slight rise in his lean abdomen. "I got a belly...I ain't never had one before..."
"Shut the Hell up Vin or I'll show you how a face is washed," Josiah Sanchez bellowed. The team's eldest was on a diet and the smug Texan with the lowest body fat in the Rockies, only made his battle worse.
The laughter that exploded in the room was a welcome sound to the owner of the home. Too long it had been missing and it felt damn good. He leaned back into the soft folds of the leather recliner and sipped a brandy, feeling complete for the first time in years.
"Problem, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra paused at the last desk in the large room. Since his arrival, Vin had claimed the vacant area, staking out his need. It gave him a good view of all the other desks, easy access to Chris's large office and the empty space separating him from the others, gave the privacy he sought. It was, however, next to the cantina the team set up and therefore, every trip for coffee or food, resulted in someone stopping by. The southerner saw the frown on the young man's face as he hovered over a newspaper.
"Crossword." Vin cocked his head and studied the lines before him.
J.D. and Nate were on their way to get coffee, Chris was passing by with a bagel and J.D. and Josiah left their own desks to see what the others were doing.
"Hey, I'm good at them," J.D. offered, "What's the clue?"
"...got the answer...but it don't fit..." Vin complained, scrunching his face up.
"The clue?" Nate repeated, waiting.
"Buck's mate," the Texan replied.
"That's easy," Chris said.
"...thought so...don't fit...too many letters..."
"You spelled it wrong," Ezra suggested.
"No..." Vin sat up. "I spelled it right."
"What did you get?" J.D. asked, intrigued by the grin Vin was fighting to hold off.
"Miss Nude Basketballs."
For a few seconds, nobody spoke, then Josiah's deep baratone was heard. "Did Vin just make a joke?"
"I do believe that was a feeble attempt to engage in humor," Ezra said seriously.
"I think you're right!" Nate replied just as somberly.
"For your information, wiseass," Buck swatted the back of the long, wavy brown hair, which was ducking and laughing."It was Miss Nude Softballs and she took that job to get through school."
"Neurosurgery, wasn't it Ezra?" J.D. nudged the smiling conman.
"I was sure it was Aeronautical Engineering," he replied, hearing the snickering beginning among the group.
"She was a nice girl, she just got mixed up a little," Buck defended of the buxomy redhead he dated briefly.
"Mixed up," Nate chortled, "She thought the city was named after John Denver."
"Anybody could make that mistake," Buck retorted, then grinned, "Well, almost anybody..."
Chris smiled, glad to see the change evolving in the quiet new member of the team. Over the last few weeks, he'd loosened up enough to join in the antics that the unique team shared. The laughter and bantering was interrupted by Vin's beeper going off. Buck and Chris's emitted the same shrill sounds. Larabee pushed his off, leaned over Tanner's shoulder and picked up the phone, quickly punching in the numbers. He raised one hand, instantely silencing the group.
"Larabee," he nodded, "Yeah, Deke...Shit....when?" He changed hands and quickly began to write.
Vin sat up and watched the cryptic message appearing. As soon as the words 'High School' and 'shooting' appeared, his heart sank as he stood up.
"Ten minutes..." Chris finished, "I know that school, I taught a self defense class there. Behind the cafeteria in the lot...okay..." He hung up, sighed and shook his head.
"How bad," Buck asked.
"Don't get much worse, three kids dead already, two teachers and a half dozen others wounded. The gunman's holding about twenty people hostage in the cafeteria, mostly kids."
"Jesus!" Nate exclaimed, "You backup?"
"Yeah, SWAT wants me and Buck on the negotiating team. Vin," he turned, "You got the top of the mark," he noted of the most crucial spot required. The Texan's reputation for deadly accuracy and minimal usage of ammo had quickly spread around the law enforcement field in Denver. "That was Deke Slater, we're meeting Mike's team at the back of the school. We can change there...let's roll."
Lieutenant Deacon "Deke" Slater had been a member of the SWAT team for over twenty years. At six-foot-five and two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle, the black man was a striking force. His hair was just starting to gray at the temples, but he felt as young as ever. Thousands of hours spent crouching in confined spaces and waiting; that was the hardest part, not the skill with the weapon. Keeping your focus, tuning the world out and concentrating on the prey, that took real skill. There were hours spent waiting for a break or for the right moment to take your shot. That was the last resort, but often the only choice. He shivered slightly despite the cold day and the icy winds whipping over the rooftop. He watched through high-intensity glasses as Nick Alessio led the team of negotiators closer to the cafeteria. Nick was good...if anybody could talk this large gunman into surrendering, it was his gregarious Italalian-American boss. His eyes shifted to the man several feet to his right. He shook his head and eyed the living statue. The kid hadn't moved in two hours. Nick said that Tanner was the best sniper he'd ever worked with and Deke didn't take Nick's word lightly. Only the peak of his hat was visible, settling onto the top of his back.
"Alert, everybody sharp...we got movement..." he barked through his mouthpiece, warning the dozen men spread over the rooftops of this building and the others. The call came in after eight-thirty. A tall, masked gunman, dressed in military gear and a flak jacket, bearing a high powered rifle and a duffle bag, entered a High School and began firing. The school was split into two buildings, one two stories and the other three. Three students were dead, their bodies removed from the entry way and principal's office. Two administrators , the vice-prinicipal and a janitor were wounded and already at local hospitals.
The gunman herded the other students into the cafeteria, where he now kept them under his gun. Twenty students, ranging in age from thirteen to eighteen and five teachers were sitting on the floor, while the frantic gunman paced relentlessly. He saw Nick and Chris Larabee , who although an ATF leader, spent five years as a negotiator before leaving the city for a federal job. He was Nick's right hand man back then and someone he trusted. Buck Wilmington only worked for Nick for two years, but he was good and Larabee trusted him. Several police officers and F.B.I. agents also crept outside the door. Deke listented intently, as Nick turned down the gunman's offer. All they knew about him as that he was tall, well-built and using the name Dakota. He spoke through a synthesizer, so they had no idea of his identity. He wanted them to leave, speaking of the 'evils wrought by society' and how he 'needed to cleanse the souls of the innocent before it was too late' He was a headcase and they were the hardest, there was no bargaining chips.
Vin kept his scope trained on the back of the gunman. The masked man swung his rifle at the terrified group, spewing threats. One young girl flipped out and started screaming. Before her classmates could stop her, she got hysterical and ran for the door. He ducked behind the rows of unturned tables he'd created as a barricade, blocking them from view.
"Shit!" Vin swore, raising his head and squinting as a myriad of voices penetrated the earpiece. Then the quick rapport of gunfire was heard and the four words he dreaded ever hearing, pierced his brain violently.
"Larabee's down...Larabee's down..."
"Chris!" Buck screamed, torn in place. They'd both moved in unison, when the terrified girl ran helter skelter down the hallway. Her hands clutched her throat and her staggered gait suggested a serious problem. She went down on all fours, Chris grabbed the back of her shirt and shoved her at Buck, ordering him to get her out. He returned fire, and as Buck scooped up the unconscious teenager, he saw the blond fly backwards, his head covered in blood. Well over a dozen years of training took over and he ran back down the hall and turned, handing her to a SWAT member. Then he jerked the restraining hand off and went back to get Chris. The gunman was turned away and the tall agent crept on his hands and knees. Ten feet...eight...six...four...a shoe...a leg..a belt. He tugged Chris upright and into a fireman's hold over his shoulder. The large pool of blood on the floor where the crimson matted head was lying, turned his stomach. He didn't have time to check for a pulse. He stood and bolted, wincing as something bit into his left bicep. Suddenly two black vested bodies appeared, returning fire and driving the villian back into the sanctuary he'd created.
The short series of gunshots and Buck's screaming for help left him hopeful, until Nick's voice entered the airway.
"Christ, it's a fuckin' head shot..."
He vaguely heard Buck's anguished cry before the brief shot of the gunman disappearing behind the tables in the cafeteria appeared. It was just a brief glimpse, but Tanner's eagle eyes never missed. While the right arm sent a series of shots around the room, his left hand fumbled with the area over his hip.
"He's wired..." Vin barked, causing a burst of static.
"Repeat?" Alessi's voice squawked.
"He's wired...and it's activated."
"Identify." the boss requested.
"Can't be sure, looked like C4...detonator is on his hip..." Vin paused, keeping his scope on the wooden walls the gunman set up. "Chris?"
"He was still alive when they took him away..."
He didn't have time to react when the stranger reappeared. He slid back inside, gaining control of his mind and body. All the feelings retreated, emotions were destroyed and the cold returned to his soul. It was this steely approach to his bounty hunting work that made him so succesful. Don't get attached, keep away from their eyes. So he purged the green eyes from his mind and let the stranger take over. The scope kept steady, the blue eyes keen and alert. No more sweat trickled down his back. He'd returned to the zone that kept him alive...until he first encountered the burning green eyes of Chris Larabee. He pushed the world away, concentrating fully on his task.
They sold me a dream of Christmas
They sold me a Silent Night
And they told me a fairy story
'Till I believed in the Israelite
And I believed in Father Christmas
And I looked at the sky with excited eyes
'Till I woke with a yawn in the first light of dawn
And I saw him and through his disguise
"Buck!"
Nathan turned at the sound of J.D.'s raised voice. The two had been waiting in the large area outside the Emergency room . The dark-skinned healer had been by the large window, watching the world outside. He eyed the bulky bandage under Buck's shirt and raised his eyes to the other man's.
"I'm okay, hardly made a dent," Wilmington replied, sitting down and taking the coffee the youth offered. "Thanks, Kid. Any word on Chris?"
"No." Nate slumped next to Buck, "They're doing x-rays and a CT scan. Josiah's trying to find Orrin."
"He's one lucky bastard," the mustached agent replied, rubbing his arm and wincing. "A half and inch difference and he'd be dead. It's a bad graze, from what the EMT in the ambulance said..." his voice trailed off as he recalled the harrowing ride to the hospital and all that Larabee blood.
"I'm worried about Vin..." Nate said quietly, dropping his elbows onto his knees. "God knows what he must be thinking. He don't even know if Chris is alive."
"They'll get that bastard soon," Buck vowed, eyeing the news coverage on the television. "J.D. turn that up."
The youngest pushed the volume up and stared at the screen with his friends, as the reporter described the mounting tensions with every hour that passed.
As the morning departed and the afternoon set it, Vin Tanner continued his hawklike stance. His eyes never left the view of the barricade. As the hours wore down, so did the gunman's resolve. He was starting to come unglued and it showed. His ranting and pacing increased; he began to strike out at he victims with his boot or threaten them with his weapon. He was less careful, exposing himself in brief snatches as he lingered in the doorway, shouting obscenties to the SWAT team. Then they got a break...his rage spilled over at a teacher who was trying to encourage him to surrender. He kicked the man and the table behind him, taking down several feet of the barricade. He raised the rifle, continued his rambling and prepared to shoot. Vin heard the others in his earpiece, screaming for him to shoot. Their high-pitched calls, laced with profanity, were blocked out. He only heard one voice, the one inside that guided him. Focus, concentrate, wait...wait...wait. He edged his head up and gently pressed his finger to the trigger.
"He's down...everybody in...Green light...green light..." Nick Alessi ordered, as the hostages poured out into the hall. "Deke...get down here..."
"Roger, Boss," Slater replied, watching the men on the roof with him pausing by the shooter. He hadn't moved yet, he was still crouched over, clutching the gun. He approached the young man and flinched at the wide-eyed, unblinking stare. The only visible movement, was the bobbing of his Adam's apple. He rested a hand on the tense shoulder. The whole body jerked and moved away, blue eyes flashing. "Easy now...you're still wired. Come on, let's get out of here."
Vin didn't reply, he collected his shaking limbs and his gear. He gasped loudly and swayed, not shrugging off the arm that steadyed him. Nodding, he then walked slowly to the door on the roof and followed the rest of the team.
Buck stood in the waiting room when the reporter broke in, stating that a shot had been fired. He saw the army of blue jacketed personnel pouring towards the building, just as the hostages ran out.
"He got him!" J.D. boomed, "One shot Tanner..."
Nate was dialing Ezra, who was waiting for Vin at the scene. It rang several times, before the southerner's voice broke in.
"Ezra, talk to me," the healer stated, watching the coverage.
"There's Vin!" the dark-haired youth announced, as a solitary figure walked very slowly into the main building. "God, he looks awful..."
"Damn," Buck whispered, shaking his head.
"I'm going to find him now," Ezra replied, "the gunman was fatally wounded, from what we just heard. Nick Alessi reported it was, and I quote, 'one fucking shot in a million'. Apparently, any variance in degree on the angle of the shot, would have triggered the bomb he was carrying and killed all those hostages."
"You stay with him, Ezra, no matter how much grief he gives you," Nate dictated, knowing how upset the sniper would be, "Tell him Chris was only grazed and we're waiting to hear more." He shut the phone off and listened as the chief of police was making a statement. He reemphasized Ezra's report, laying the credit at Vin Tanner's feet, praising him for an exceptional job.
"What the Hell were you waiting for? He was practically fuckin' dancin' for you."
"Gregson back off!" Nick Alessi intercepted the hot-headed SWAT officer, who didn't like Vin Tanner. He moved over to where the younger man stood transfixed, a few feet from where the body lay. The corpse's brown eyes were wide and unseeing and a steam of blood ran from his gaping mouth.
"He's only...a...kid," Vin stammered, his guts twisting.
"One of the teacher's ID'd him, Thomas Richmond. He's sixteen and lives with his grandfather outside town. He's a loner and he's been in trouble before," Alessi responded, "Look Vin...Vin?" He turned in time to see the world class shooter, whose steady eye and skilled hand had saved them from disaster, drop over a trash can and begin to vomit.
"Hey Boss," Deke's voice penetrated his earpiece, "One of Tanner's team is here, a guy named Standish."
"Okay, we'll be right out," Nick responded as the forensics team arrived. He moved behind the pale, shaken sharpshooter and gently rubbed his back. Once the body stopped convulsing, he gripped the underside of the shaking left elbow. "Come on, Son, let's get the Hell out of here." He helped him rise and then backed off as the body stiffened beneath his fingers. In a zombie-like state, Tanner moved away, taking his numb limbs outside.
Sixteen. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get that out of his head. How the Hell are you so screwed up at sixteen? How is killing your classmates and strapping a bomb to your chest the way out? The razor-like talons continued to claw at his tender insides. He didn't look where he was going; he just kept walking, until someone blocked his path. From a faraway distance, he heard his name being called. He blinked and squinted and saw a familiar face.
Ezra stood up in the detaining area. The sectioned off makeshift operation headquarters was just off the principal's office. He wasn't surprised at the pale features on the body before him. He knew the lost blue eyes would be haunted for awhile. They seemed unnaturally large and horridly vacant as Vin entered the room. He didn't seem to be aware of the bodies moving near him or talking to him.
"Vin?" He placed a hand on the slumped shoulder and paused, "Vin? I've received word from Nathan that our brave leader was only grazed." That got a response. The lost eyes blinked twice and focused on him intently.
"Ezra?" Vin croaked, waiting for the blurry image to sharpen.
"Sit down before you fall down," he commanded, guiding the distraught body to a chair. He left him briefly to get a bottle of water. "Here," he encouraged, twisting the cap off and handing him the bottle. "Did you hear me? Chris was only grazed." The blue eyes closed in relief as the pale lips left the bottle.
Vin swiped the excess fluid from his chin and took several steadying breaths. The walls were closing in and it was suddenly chilly. "The girl?" he choked, recalling the reason Chris got shot.
"An asthmatic," he replied, "She's expected to make a full recovery."
"...he's only sixteen, Ez..." Vin choked, eyes burning. He dropped his head between his legs as the room began to spin. He heard the southerner giving directions for deep breaths. He felt the hand on his back and tensed up, but didn't pull away.
"I'm sorry Vin." the southerner replied, wincing at the frail tone in the voice. How ironic that someone so deadly with a rifle, possessed such a heart. He knew Tanner was torn up, and felt the body tense up again. He moved him quickly to the bathroom, waiting outside until the pale face reappeared. The blues darted at every wall and Adam's apple bobbed with furious abandon.
"Shall we go?" He suggested, knowing the Texan must feel like a caged rat. The shaggy head nodded once and he moved towards the door. He waited while Tanner was quietly stripping his flak jacket off and stowing his gear. Vin hadn't said a word, but his trembling limbs and wide-eyed shock attested to his churning feelings. They moved through the parking lot, just in time for a throng of reporters to descend. It was nearly sunset and the colors in the sky seemed too brilliant tonight.
"Aw, Hell..." Vin rasped, backing up and hitting Ezra.
"Not to worry," Standish replied, placing himself in front of the exhausted agent. He moved defty through the throng, ignoring their questions and blocking Vin from them. At last, they were in the car. Ezra turned the heat up, but it didn't seem to be hitting his passenger. Vin continued to tremble all the way to the hospital. He pulled up in front of the emergency entrance and released the lock.
"Buck and the others are inside." Ezra noted, "Once I update Josiah and Orrin, I'll be back."
Vin nodded but made no move to leave. No matter what he tried, the ghastly image of the broken sixteen year old boy with blood pouring from his mouth, lingered. He kept seeing the dead eyes, which seemed to be screaming at him only. He looked at the palms of his hands and felt his insides churning again.
"What the Hell did I do, Ez?"
The driver winced inwardly at the question in the trembling, raspy voice. "You saved the lives of two dozen innocent victims, that is what you've done." He got no response and the lost soul slid from the car, disappearing through the double doors.
Vin paused in the entryway, eyeing the crowded waiting room. He scanned the faces, but saw no familiar ones. He saw the admissions clerk and approached the desk, waiting in line for his turn. After gaining the room number, he quickly made toward the elevator. The doors slid open and he jumped back his name was shouted.
"Vin!" J.D. hollered, stepping off the elevator and attempting to grab his startled friend. Nathan pulled him back and put a hand of warning up. He moved in front of the youth, and caught the shocked sniper's eyes.
"You okay?"
"...m'fine..." Vin mumbled, suddenly very uncomfortable. He dropped his head and stared at the floor.
"Then get your head up, you got no cause to hang it, you ain't a damn dog!" Nate ordered, watching the face rise slowly.
"No, I'm a child killer," Vin spat back, unleashing part of his pent up fury.
J.D. frowned and remained mute, not sure of how to proceed. Vin was clearly out of his element, fighting to remain composed. If only Chris were here, he'd know what to say; he could always get through to Vin.
"I'm sorry Vin," Dunne offered, resting a hand on the wet tan jacket. Vin nodded once but kept his eyes averted.
"First of all, you have the courtesy to look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you." Jackson said coldly as the icy blue eyes finally met his own, "Now you listen to me, Vin Tanner, there's two sides to every story. Keeping the peace, we're on the right side. The poor boy was on the wrong side. Sixteen or sixty, wouldn't make a difference. You did what needed to be done, to save the lives of all those people. He wasn't some innocent child that got caught in a takedown. The minute he strapped that bomb on his chest and picked up a rifle, all bets were off."
Vin stared deep into the brown eyes, which prior to this moment, he'd only seen filled with kindess and warmth. Now they were cold, and he felt the ice hitting him. It cut through some of the fog and his head felt a little clearer.
"We understand each other now?" the dark-skinned agent inquired and saw the shaggy head slowly nodding. "Good, 'cause I don't waste my five-dollar speeches on just anybody, only folks I care about. Chris is getting some tests done. Buck's up there waiting for him, with Nick Alessi. Josiah called, Orin wants us to meet them downtown. They found a couple of suspects in the Jensen Warehouse case," he noted of a case they were in the middle of investigating. "We'll be back later."
Vin saw the hand coming at him and waited a moment before taking it and releasing a deep breath at the strong grip. Nate's left hand squeezed the side of his neck and the shaken sharpshooter saw the compassion sizzling in the brown eyes. He nodded mutely, feeling the full support in the strong gaze.
"Thanks, Nate." He smiled weakly and lifted one corner of his mouth. He felt a last tug on his neck and the pair departed, as he entered the elevator.
"What did you yell at him like that for?" J.D. asked.
"...'cause he needed it." Jackson replied, turning back as Vin entered the elevator. The shoulders were a little straighter and he was glad for that.
Vin followed the numbers until he came to Chris's room. He ducked inside and took the empty seat, just as Nick exited the bathroom. He nodded and fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket. Despite Nate's strong words, he still saw those empty brown eyes. Suddenly, the aroma of the strong floor cleaner seemed to choke him. He gagged twice and started to rise, only to be shoved back down.
"That's enough!" Alessi stated, "Take a deep breath and get your head clear." He waited a moment until some color returned to the pale face. "It's warm in here, you don't need that coat," He tapped the shoulder and got the heavy, buckskin coat off and tossed it on the bed. He departed for a moment and returned with a cold can of soda, courtesy of the nurse's station. He popped the top and handed it to the upset young man. He pulled the extra chair over in front of Vin Tanner and sat down. He waited for the lost blue eyes to meet his and then spoke.
"You listen to me, Kid," the veteran of wars like this morning's stated with conviction. "You did a Helluva job out there today. That eye of yours, I wish I could clone it," he praised, seeing the other man swallowing uncomfortably. "Anybody else, and that killer would have blown us all to kingdom come. You're that good, Tanner. I've got close to twenty-five years wearing this badge and I've never seen better."
Buck returned from the payphone, having contacted Josiah and Ezra. Standish told him that Tanner was in the building. Buck headed back towards the room, but paused, seeing Nick Alessi's dark head. He heard the strong words and smiled. Nick was good for what ailed Vin. He backed off and walked a few feet away, spotting an old friend.
"Hey, Man, how's the skirts this week?" Deke teased the womanizer, offering his hand.
"Keepin' me busy," Buck grinned, "How are you, Deke?"
"Gettin' to old for this shit, Buck," the black man replied, "I'll tell you one thing, that kid is one Helluva shot. His timing...I ain't seen the likes of it...a second's difference, either way, we'd have been history."
"Preachin' to the choir, my man," Buck praised of the nimble fingered sharpshooter.
"You ever get tired of his Texan ass," Slater came back with a smile, "You give us a call."
"Thanks Deke," Wilmington nodded, hearing the admiration, "but I think we're gonna keep him. Hell, I finally got somebody for J.D. to burn off that damn energy of his with."
They both turned as a gurney with Chris Larabee passed by. Deke slapped Buck's back and turned.
"By the way, you run pretty good for an old white boy," Slater teased of the heroic effort Wilmington did to save his friend's life.
"Who the Hell are you calling old?" Buck tossed back with a grin, as Nick Alessi appeared. "He okay?" Buck tossed his dark head to where Vin Tanner sat inside the room.
"No," the senior officer decided, "But he will be. You stop over later, I need a statement."
"Will do," Buck said, waiting for the orderly to lift Chris onto the bed. Vin took his jacket and placed it on the vacant chair. The patient was still unconscious and a large bandage covered his head. He'd already spoken with the doctor, who had talked to Chris briefly. The blond had been in and out of consciousness over the last couple hours. He moved slowly, watching Vin rise and stand by the bed.
"Chris..." Vin whispered, tapping the bare arm peeking from a blue hospital gown. He needed those eyes to look at him. He needed to 'hear' Chris as only Larabee could 'speak' silently. The eyes remained closed and he studied the rise and fall of the chest. Sighing, he dropped his head, saying a silent prayer of thanks.
"He's got more lives that a damn cat," Buck joked, joining Vin by the bed. Vin seemed startled and then the blue eyes lingered on the bulky bandage under his shirt. "I'm okay," he assured the worried stare "It's only a flesh wound." He grinned, "I always wanted to say that." His smile faded when the blue eyes grew murky and seemed lost again. He ached for Vin, knowing how desperately he needed Chris now. The two shared a deep bond and he wasn't sure if the Texan would open up for anyone else. "I'm fine, Vin, but you're not..."
"He was only sixteen..." Vin rasped, gripping the sides of the bed. "I fuckin' blew away a kid...sixteen..." he choked, swallowing hard.
"So were close to twenty of the other kids in that cafeteria, Vin. You saved a lot of lives today. Thanks to you, those kids will go to the prom, to college, get jobs, get married and have a family. Those teachers you saved, they get to go home tonight and kiss their spouses, hug their kids. That's what you did, and that's one Helluva job, Son."
"...it don't feel so good..."
"No, I know it doesn't, Vin," Buck sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and took a breath, "You can't sit still long enough or walk far enough. It's too hot, then it's too cold; Your chest is too tight and you can't breathe. What little food and drink you do get down, doesn't stay put, goes right through you." He paused as Vin's head came up and the eyes seemed to warm a little. Maybe just a small part of this was sinking in, "When you lose that feeling, it's time to toss in that badge you wear so well. After fifteen years in law enforcement, I still feel it, everytime it happens. You always will too. You got more integrity shining through them damn blue eyes of yours, then anyone I've ever known."
Vin swallowed hard as Buck's words hit him like bullets. He turned and looked hard at the handsome man's face, seeing a depth of compassion and admiration. He didn't move when Buck's strong hands rested on both his shoulders.
"...and I'm prouder than Hell that I've got you watchin' my back," Buck attested, then pulled the trembling younger man into a fast embrace. He felt the bones and muscles melt and smiled at the shuddering gasp.
"...thanks Bucklin..." Vin managed, feeling a warmth invade him, giving him strength.
Over Vin's shoulder, Buck saw that Larabee's eyes were open.
Through an intense pain in his head, Chris heard Buck Wilmington's words. He knew little of what happened, from the snatches of conversation he'd gained over the last few hours, coupled with what he now heard, the shooter was a kid. A kid Vin had to kill to save the hostages. But knowing Vin, he wouldn't see it that way. Buck said it so well, the words he wanted to say, put couldn't yet. The severe pain in his head prevented him from speaking. He spoke his thanks silently, hoping that oldest friend understood.
Buck saw the gratitude pouring from the green eyes and smiled. "You're welcome," he spoke to the gaze. "I'm gonna stretch my legs," He stated, knowing the two needed to be alone. He gave Vin's back a final pat and left.
Vin turned back and felt the eyes scruntizing him. "Ya look like shit, Cowboy," he managed, gripping the hand that came up at him. He didn't miss the intense pain in the eyes, which were blinking rapidly. "Ya tryin' to pick me up? Yer wastin' all that winkin'...close yer damn eyes, I ain't goin' anywhere." He waited for the eyes to close and took a seat. "In case ya didn't hear yet, I killed a kid...blew 'im away..."
"...justifiable..." Chris barked, stronger than he intended.
"Ya don't even know what went down!" Vin protested at the strong conviction.
"I...know...you..."
Vin didn't have a response to that. A part of him needed to hear those words, or rather, suck in the feeling behind them. So he inhaled greedily, before sighing. "...he's only a kid..."
"...doesn't make...him...any less...deadly..." Chris tossed back, head pounding.
"I keep seein' his eyes...he's only sixteen..."
"He was carrying a fuckin' semi-automatic, Vin," Larabee seethed, "...and strapped with a bomb. What about the people that you saved? How come they're not as important?"
"Of course they're important!"
"You haven't mentioned them." Chris coughed and pressed his aching head into the pillow. He felt it lifted and a straw nudge his lips. He took the water and nodded, as his head was gently laid back down.
"Things sure look different from this side of the bed."
Chris heard the pain in the sharpshooter's voice, knowing exactly what he meant. In the few months since joining the team, this was the first time they'd had a close call. He knew how hard of an adjusment it was for Vin. Leaving the solitary life he'd lived to become part of a team. He now had a family, where there once was none. He know had a brother, someone who shared his pain and saw his promise. The bullet that struck his head this morning, had wounded both of them.
"You mean I'm better looking?" Chris teased.
"...said 'different' not 'better'." Vin's smile faded, when he remembered his own close call. "Ya remember when I was shot up? Ya told me, ya said, it was time t'come outta the shadows and into the light." He breathed harshly, gripping the rails intensely as he eyed the bulky bandage. So close...Chris had come so close to being taken from him. "Sometimes, Chris, the light, it's...too...damn...br...bright...it's fuckin' blindin'...me..." He forced the last few words out, feeling his eyes burning with pent up tears. Tears of rage and frustration; tears for a sixteen year old boy with no soul and for a green-eyed saviour who saved his soul and now lay broken in the bed before him.
"Would you give it up?" Chris addressed the pain and shuddering breaths, knowing Vin was barely holding on, "Give up on me?"
"No!"
Chris smiled at the harsh sound of fear in the voice. Vin needed that fear. He had to be reminded of all that he'd gained, rather than dwelling on what he'd nearly lost. He brought his hand up and felt the other grip his forearm. "Then sit your whinin' ass down, will you?" he grinned, hearing a soft chuckle. He waited until the body was noisly planted in the chair and turned. "Start from the beginning, tell me how it went down." It came out slowly and haltinginly, sometimes with great gaps of minutes between sentences. Chris's heavy eyes and burning head longed to rest, but he kept awake. Finally, it was done and a heavy silence draped the small room.
"I was right, it was a good shoot." Chris attested, "You know, Nick told me you're the best he's every seen? He seemed surprised, I wasn't."
Vin smiled and stood, taking the arm extended. He saw the pain etched in the pale face and realized what Chris had suffered through, in order to cleanse his soul. Could he give this up? As if reading his brooding thoughts, Chris's hand retreated and he spoke.
"You headin' to that pile of wood in the hills?" He noted of the run-down shack Vin used before joining Team Seven.
"How'd ya know?" Vin grinned.
"Your damn pondering's giving me a headache." He grinned, knowing that by now, the sniper needed some fresh air. "I'm gonna rest my eyes. You be careful..."
"...been lookin' after m'self fer years, Larabee." He paused and saw that the deep concern still lingered, "I ain't gonna fall of the damn mountain." Vin chortled, grabbing his coat.
"You better not, Tanner," the blond warned, "I hate paperwork. Do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"Wait until morning. It's been snowing for days and the roads will be icy...too dicey to handle in the dark."
"Ya up early?"
"You have to ask?" Chris grumbled, "You lose your memory?"
"Oh," Vin grinned and wrinkled his nose, recalling all too well. "Cold hands on the catheter? Damn...Helluva way to wake up."
"Don't come empty-handed." Chris warned, settling back in the thick pillows. "Bring danish, not them shitty, cheap doughnuts you usually tote in to the office."
"Yes yer highness..." Vin tossed back, turning to leave.
"Vin, see if you can find Buck? I need something from my desk and he has my keys."
"Okay," Vin replied, taking his body to the hall. The walls were closing in and he needed fresh air. He needed to think, to sift out all the broken pieces in his mind. He found Buck by the nurse's station and found his first smile in hours. The charmer was creating a tall-tale, recounting his saving Larabee's life. He waved at the tall man, who broke free of the trio he'd been entertaining.
"Duty calls, Ladies," Buck apologized, slipping the phone numbers in his pocket. "But I'll be just down the hall." He moved to where the smirking Texan was standing. "You leaving?"
"Yeah, I need air." Vin shifted his feet, "We had a talk..."
"Good!" Buck beamed, knowing Larabee worked his magic.
"He wants t'see ya..."
"Okay," Buck walked to the elevator with Vin. "Listen, when you get done 'walking', you give me a call. Nick had one of his men bring my car over. I'll come for you, don't matter what time it is...you got that?"
"I got it," Vin smiled, "Thanks..."
Buck waited until the younger man left and made his way to Chris Larabee's room. He took a sip of the coke Tanner left behind and belched, causing the green eyes to appear in pained slits.
"You didn't tell him, did you?" Buck asked quietly.
"No," The unseeing green eyes replied, "He's got enough shit weighin' him down. He couldn't bear this too," he spoke of his blindness. "He's coming back in the morning. He's heading to the hills...to do some thinking."
"You gonna tell him?" Buck lifted a cup of water and guided it to Chris's lips.
"I'll tell him when the time is right," he replied, "I need you to go to the office tonight. I need something from my desk."
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