“Good afternoon, Mr. Tanner,” Beattie said as he entered the room.
“Dr. Beattie,” Vin said. “Did you get the results of my tests?”
“Now, Vin, give the doctor a chance to get in,” Buck laughed at his friend's impatience.
“I understand his impatience, Mr. Wilmington. To answer your question, Mr. Tanner, I have the results right here.”
“What do they say? Will I see again?” Vin asked and then squeezed his eyes against the daggers of light that flared behind his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Vin?” Buck asked worriedly.
“Mr. Tanner, are you seeing anything?” Beattie asked.
“L...lights,” Vin stammered against the pain.
“Is that good, Doc?” Buck asked.
“Maybe, let me check your eyes, Mr. Tanner,” Beattie said.
Vin groaned as Beattie flashed a tiny light in his eyes. The pain seemed to grow worse and he forced them shut. “H...hurts,” he said.
“I think you’re eyesight may be returning, Mr. Tanner. The swelling behind the optic nerve has gone down and the pressure it was causing is what caused the blindness.”
“Will his sight come back totally?” Buck asked a sheepish grin on his face, laughter in his voice.
“I don’t see why not. It might be a wise idea to cover your eyes against bright light until your vision returns completely.”
“Is that necessary, doc?” Vin asked in a pain filled voice.
“It’s best, Mr. Tanner,” Beattie said. “I’ll get some pads to place over your eyes. Then I want you to get some rest.”
“I wanna see Chris,” Vin said.
“Now, Vin, Nancy told you Chris would be busy for the rest for the day. They want him to rest between treatments and he sure won’t do that with you there,” Buck told his friend.
“You need to do the same, Mr. Tanner. Between the head injury and the ankle, you’re probably in a lot of pain. I’d rather you didn’t move around a lot. Close your eyes and get some rest. You can see your friend tomorrow,” Beattie told him and signalled for Buck to follow him
“Be right back, Vin,” Buck said as he followed the doctor.
“Mr. Wilmington, it’s important that your friend gets more rest than he has been. He’s exhausted and he’s in pain even if he doesn’t want to admit it. I’ve read his chart and I think he’d be a lot more cooperative if he was in the same room as his friend. I know that’s not possible right now but I’m going to arrange it as soon as Mr. Larabee is released from ICU.”
“That’s a real smart idea, Doc. We were going to ask for them to be placed in the same room anyway,” Buck said.
“I’m ordering his eyes covered because of the information from the hospital in Billings. His chart says both Mr. Tanner and Mr. Larabee are reluctant patients. I’m hoping that the pads covering his eyes will stop him from trying to get to his friend.”
“He’s not gonna like that, Doc,” Buck said.
“Do you think he’ll stay put if he knows his eyesight has returned? Those flashing lights signal that he’ll soon be able to make out shapes and it’ll continue to improve. I don’t want him to hurt himself because he’s too stubborn to heed what I say. Now I’d better get those pads,” Beattie said as he turned away.
“I think we could use you in Billings,” Buck said to the mans back. He heard the doctors laugh as he turned back to the hospital room.
“Wake up, Mr. Larabee. It’s time for your treatment,” Gina Lawrence said as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Chris opened tired eyes and looked at the Doctor standing beside him. “Ah, shit,” he said and moaned as the effort to speak tore at his raw throat.
“Come on now, Mr. Larabee, you’re not going to let a little pain get in the way of getting better, are you?”
“It’s ok, Chris, I’ll stay here with you,” Josiah said from the opposite side of the bed.
Chris glared at her but opened his mouth to take the breathing tube. He knew what was to come and he knew it was going to hurt like hell and he was glad one of his friends would be there for him.
“That’s better,” Lawrence said as she pushed the button to start the machine.
Chris was forced to breathe deeply as the foul tasting medicine hissed from the tube. His eyes opened wide as a sharp pain stabbed through his side. He tried to move away from both the pain and the tube but Gina and Nancy held him in place. He reached for the tube in his side wanting to be rid of the pain and hoping he could pull it out before they stopped him.
Nancy snaked her hand out and grabbed Chris’s wrist, “Don’t do that, Chris, we’ll just have to put it back in,” she said as tears rolled down his pale cheeks.
Chris wanted to fight but didn’t have the strength. Finally he heard the mask being removed and closed his eyes against the pain.
Josiah Sanchez stepped forward and held his friends shoulders. “All done,” he said with a smile.
“Not quite,” Gina said. “Help me sit him up more, Nancy. Mr. Sanchez, you’ll have to move out of the way for a few more minutes.
Josiah looked into the blonde man’s eyes and could see the fear there, “Can’t I hold him?” he asked.
Gina watched the man on the bed and the man holding him and providing support. “You’ll have to lift him up and keep him there till I tell you,” she said
“I will,” Josiah said as he helped Nancy pull the patient to a more upright position. Chris moaned the whole time.
Without warning, Lawrence began to thump on the patient's back once again.
Josiah felt his own tears as he listened to the pitifully weak cries of pain coming from the man he held. “Easy, Chris, this won’t take much longer,” he said hopefully.
“Alright, Mr Sanchez, lay him back against his pillow,” Gina said. She stared into her patient's eyes and replaced the blanket over him. “I know this hurts, Mr. Larabee, but it has to be done. I think Nancy’s going to give you something for the pain now. Don’t fight the coughing,” she said as she watched his face. “The more you cough, the more of the mucus you’ll bring up and the faster we’ll be able to stop this. I’ve left orders for Dr. Roberts to continue the treatments through the night. Nancy, go ahead and give him the shot. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Larabee,” the look on Chris’s face told her he’d rather she didn’t.
The coughing began as soon as she left the room and Josiah held his friend until it finally subsided. The shot Nancy gave him soon took effect and he surrendered to sleep.
“It’ll get easier on him, Mr. Sanchez,” Nancy told the man standing beside her patient's bed. She could see the deep-rooted feelings this man held for his injured friends and knew they shared a close friendship.
“Will it, Nancy?” Sanchez asked doubtfully.
“Yes, I’m sure it will. Your friend is a fighter and has so much support. That’s important for his recovery,” Nancy said as she once again changed the antibiotics and emptied the drainage tubes. She smiled as she noticed the fluid from his abdomen had lessoned and made a note on her patient's chart.
Vin was awake. The pain he’d felt the night before had diminished and he wanted to remove the pads from his eyes. “Ez,” he called. When no answer was forthcoming, he reached up and pulled the pad from his left eye. The lights hurt but he could make out shapes. He knew he was alone when no one stopped him from taking off the second one.
All he could see were shadows as he sat up in bed. “Ez,” he tried again. Smiling when there was no answer, he felt the side rail until he found the safety buttons and released the rail. His chair was at the end of the bed and he scooted towards it, fighting the wave of pain that attacked his head and ankle.
He pulled the chair towards the side of the bed and struggled to get in it. Pain now radiated out from his ankle and into every nerve in his body as he lifted his leg onto the tiny support.
The IV in his hand pulled and he wondered what he could do about that. ‘I’m comin’, Chris,’ he thought as he pulled the needle from his hand. He applied pressure to the tiny indent and hoped it wouldn’t bleed too much. He sat back in the chair and waited for his senses to return. Finally he reached down and wheeled his chair to the door. It took him some time before he realized the door he was trying to go through led to the washroom. ‘Damn, Larabee would love this one,’ he laughed.
Vin Tanner was stubborn, even more so than anyone realized. A normal man in his condition would have given up at the wrong door. But Vin was not a normal man. He was a man with a mission. That mission was to see Chris before anyone realized where he was. He’d made it out of his room and into the elevator. He saw the shape of a woman as she held the door for him to wheel inside.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome, what floor?” she asked.
“Seven,” he told her. The elevator started up and Vin was relieved when it came to a halt and the woman told him this was his floor. “Thanks again,” he said with a small smile.
“You’re welcome,” she said as she walked away.
‘Shit, what room are you in, Cowboy?’ he thought as he turned to the left. He knew this was the direction Buck had wheeled him in but he didn’t know the room number. He continued on for a few feet until his progress was stopped by an irate voice.
“Of all the stupid idiotic things you’ve done, Tanner.”
“Hi Nathan,” Vin said sheepishly.
“What on earth do you think you’re doing? Where the hell is Ezra?”
“Don’t know where Ez is. Wanted to see Chris,” Vin told him.
Nathan gazed into the younger mans eyes, “How did you get up here without Ezra?”
“Can see a little, just shadows mostly. I needed to see Chris.”
“Where’s your IV?” Nathan asked.
“Took it out,” Vin said simply.
“Vin, so help me I’m going to...”
“Please, Nate, just for a few minutes. Wanna make sure he’s ok.”
“I’ll take you in but only for a minute. He’s due for another treatment soon and you’d just be in the way.”
“Thanks, Nathan,” Vin said as he relinquished control of the wheelchair.
Ezra Standish walked into Vin’s room and swore sharply. The empty bed, the eye
pads, and the emptying IV bag told the story. He knew where he’d find the missing
patient.
His anger was cantered more at himself than at Vin. He’d gone to the cafeteria to grab a coffee and something to eat. Vin had been sleeping when he’d left and he was sure he’d stay that way till he returned. He punched the number seven in the elevator and tapped on the door until it reached the floor.
“How is he, Nathan?” Vin asked as he was wheeled up to the bed. He could make out the man on the bed but he couldn’t see him plainly.
“Vin,” Chris said in a low raspy voice.
Vin heard the pain and weariness in his best friends voice and reached out his hand. “Thought you weren’t supposed to talk, Cowboy,’ he said.
“Not, b...but n...never s...stopped me,” Chris said.
“Chris, I’ll make them leave,” the new night nurse who’d introduce herself as Paula threatened. “Your throat's still not ready for use yet.”
“K,” Chris said.
“Chris,” she warned.
“S...sorry,” he said and clamped his lips shut.
“That’s better,” Paula laughed.
“You any good at interpreting, Nate?” Vin asked.
“Not really, Vin but I can interpret the look on Ezra’s face.”
“Oh, shit, is he angry?”
Chris listened to the conversation between the two men and looked at the door. He could see Standish and he recognized the look on the man's face. ‘You sneak out on him, Vin,’ he thought with a smile.
“Think maybe you’d better go, Vin,” Jackson suggested. “Looks like he’s brought a nurse with him. If you don’t be careful, they’ll stop you from coming up here altogether.”
“I’ll come back, Cowboy,” Vin said as Nathan turned him from the bed.
‘Shit, not again,’ Chris thought as he spotted Dr. Roberts walking towards his room. He closed his eyes and hoped the nightmare would go away.
Vin had no choice but to listen as Ezra explained just what he’d done wrong
and what Ezra had planned to make sure he didn’t do it again.
Ezra’s usually cool, calm exterior had been shattered when he’d found Vin missing from his room. It hadn’t really surprised him but it had hurt him, especially the fact that he’d been the one responsible for the injured man.
“Sorry, Ez,” Vin said.
“Don’t try to placate me, Mr. Tanner. I’m the one who would’ve had to face Mr. Larabee’s wrath if you re-injured yourself again. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that infamous glare,’ Standish said angrily.
“Mr. Tanner, I’m here to restart your IV,” a dark haired nurse said from the door.
“Oh, hell,” Vin said as the pole with the new bags was wheeled up to his bed.
“You brought it on yourself, Mr. Tanner,” Standish said.
“Damnit, Ez, I know I did but I had to see Chris.”
“You could have waited for my return,” Standish told him and looked away as the nurse started the IV.
“You’re gonna feel a small prick,” she warned Vin as she inserted the tiny needle into his arm.
“Squeamish, Ez,” Vin said, trying hard to hide a smile.
“I have always had an aversion to needles, Mr. Tanner,” Standish told him.
“I seem to remember you passing out the last time we needed inoculations,” Vin laughed.
“Don’t remind me,” Standish said, keeping his back to the bed.
“All done,” Tanner told him.
Ezra looked back at the bed and caught the look of amusement on the face of the nurse.
“Don’t worry, your secret's safe with me,” she said as she left the two men alone.
“I’m really beginning to hate this place,” Vin said as his head began a staccato beat.
“Headache, Mr. Tanner?”
“Yeah, seems like it never goes away.”
“It probably would if you’d do as you're told,” Standish said and immediately regretted his harsh words. “I’ll see if it’s time for your shot,” he said.
“No, don’t, Ez, it’s not so bad yet,” he said.
“You could have fooled me,” Standish said. “I’ll make a deal with you, Mr. Tanner, if you go to sleep, I won’t call the nurse.”
“You drive a h...hard bargain, Ez,” Vin said as he closed his eyes.
“I always do, Vin, I always do,” Standish said as he pulled the chair next to the bed.
Chris struggled to get the coughing under control. Dr. Roberts was just as thorough as Dr Lawrence when it came to the pneumonia treatments, maybe a little harder on the back.
The pain had gotten to the point where Chris had nearly blacked out. Unfortunately, the coughing had prevented that. With each breath, he felt as if his chest were being compressed and he wanted to scream his frustrations.
He’d sent Nathan out to get something to eat and was alone with the new nurse and his own misery.
A hand on his shoulder made him open his clenched eyes. He looked into compassionate hazel eyes. The morning nurse was now on duty and he wondered how much longer he’d be under constant watch. He wanted something to wear to give him back a feeling of being human again. He wanted nothing more than to escape the confines of the tiny room he’d lived in for five days.
“Hi, Chris, sounds like you’re having a rough time. My name is Sheila and I’m going to give you something for the pain in a moment. I just want to check your side and make sure everything’s still as it should be,” she said as she removed her hand from his shoulder.
Chris knew what was coming. He hated the sickening feeling of pressure when they drained the tube in his side but the worst came when they drained the one in his chest. The one that led to his empty stomach.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said as the fluid was drained from his side.
“Sure you can, Chris,” Sheila told him, “You’re just feeling sick right now and your body is probably hurting terribly.”
“How the hell would you know?” he screamed and grimaced as his still healing throat constricted.
“Hey, Pard, you having problems?” Buck Wilmington asked as he stepped into the room and up to his friend's bed.
“Just leave me alone, Buck,” Chris said, his voice low, but not as harsh as it had been the night before.
“Can’t do that, Chris. You’re hurting bad right now so I figure you kinda need me,” Wilmington said.
He’d been there when Chris had lost his family and knew how much this man had grieved for them, how much he was still grieving. Buck had once promised Sarah that if anything happened to her he’d look after Chris. It seemed he’d been relegated to back burner in that. Something had happened when Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner had met. Buck didn’t regret Vin’s relationship with Chris. He did, however, regret the loss of his own close relationship with the blonde haired man.
“Always there, aren’t you, Buck?” Chris asked and dissolved into another fit of coughing.
Buck Wilmington felt tears in his eyes. He’d always been there for Chris, he just hadn’t realized the man knew it. He held his friend through the pain and sighed as the nurse gave him something to ease it.
“I’m so sick of being here, Buck. I want to go home,” Chris said.
“I know you do, Pard, and you will. You and Vin’ll be out of here in no time,” Wilmington said.
“So, tired, Buck, so d...damned t...tired,” Chris said as his eyes closed.
“How is he?” Buck asked the nurse.
“Honestly, Buck,” she said, using the name she’d heard his friend use.
“Yes.”
“He’s still got a ways to go. The infection in his lungs and abdomen aren’t clearing up as fast as the doctors would like. They’ve changed his antibiotic again to try and fight it. His temperature is still high but not as high as it was. He’s unable to eat or drink anything so he’s losing weight,” she saw the look on his face and regretted being the bearer of bad news. “I’m sorry but there’s no easy way to say this. Chris is still in danger of losing his life. We’ve got to keep on top of everything and that includes the horrid pneumonia treatments. Believe me when I tell you that those alone are a load of misery. I’ve had them,” she said.
“Oh, God, Pard, things just don’t come easy for you,” Buck said as he sat in the chair, placed his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
Dr. Matt Weaver studied the chart of the man he’d been treating for five days. By rights, he should have been getting better but he wasn’t. He’d been in conference with other doctors and discussed what else could be done. The results of that conference were now being implemented.
A stronger antibiotic had been ordered and he prayed that this one would work. The patient's temperature had spiked earlier that morning and he worried whether the man had the strength left to fight.
He checked the vitals that showed on the monitor. Temperature was still elevated but everything else seemed within range. “How’s the drainage from his abdomen?” he asked Sheila.
“There’s still some blood present but not as much as indicated on his chart from yesterday,” Sheila answered.
“I hope it clears up soon or we’re going to have to go back in and see what’s causing it. Let me know immediately if there are any changes.”
“I will doctor.”
“When was his last pneumonia treatment?”
“Dr. Lawrence should be here in a few minutes.”
“I’m going to go have a talk with Chris’s friends in the waiting room. Tell Gina I’d like to see her when she’s done.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Sheila said as she checked the monitors and made new notes in her patient's chart.
“Vin,” Travis said as he gently touched the trembling man. “It’s ok, Vin, it’s just a dream. You’re safe now and so is Chris.”
“No! Oh, God not Chris,” Vin cried as he continued to toss in the throes of a nightmare, a nightmare in which he was blind and unable to help his injured friend. Where help had arrived to late and he heard Nathan Jackson’s voice say there was only one survivor. A single tear rolled from his right eye and dropped onto the pillow.
“Come on, Vin, wake up,” Travis tried again and was rewarded when two blue eyes stared confusedly up at him. “It’s alright, Vin, you’re in the hospital remember?”
“Hospital?” Vin said as he tried to focus his eyes. The shadows had grown slightly clearer and he was able to pick out faces now although they weren’t clear. “Orrin, where’s Chris?”
“Don’t you remember, Vin?” Travis asked worriedly.
“Not sure, Orrin, thought he was dead,” Vin said softly.
“He’s not dead, Son. He’s not in the best of shape but he’s not dead. He’s upstairs in ICU. Don’t you remember going up there this morning?”
Images came flooding to his mind and Vin closed his eyes. “Seem to remember Ezra being upset with me,” he said.
“Ezra had every right to be angry with you. Next time you do something foolhardy like that you’ll be in trouble with all of us,” Travis told him.
“I won’t, not if you bring me up to see Chris,” Vin told him.
“I thought you’d say that. Got your wheels right here,” Travis laughed.
“What is it, Dr. Weaver?” Buck asked as the doctor entered the waiting room. The look on the man's face told the men present that it didn’t bode well for Chris Larabee.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much good news for you,” Weaver began, his eyes taking in each man.
“Hold on a minute, Doc, here comes Vin and Orrin. We should let them listen in as well,” Josiah Sanchez said as he walked over to meet the newcomers.
“What’s going on, Josiah?” Vin asked as he was pushed into the now crowded room.
“Dr. Weaver was about to tell us what’s going on with Chris,” Buck answered.
“Is he ready to be moved out of ICU cause if he is I want him in the room with me,” Vin said.
“I’m afraid Chris won’t be leaving ICU for a while yet,” Weaver told them.
“What’s wrong, Doc?” Vin asked worriedly.
“I’m worried that the antibiotic treatment is not clearing up the pneumonia,” Weaver began.
“But you only just started the treatments yesterday,” JD’s voice was low and filled with anxiety.
“We did only start the treatments yesterday but the antibiotics were started the day he was brought in. We’ve tried two different kinds and we started a stronger version today.”
“Chris is a fighter, Dr. Weaver,” Travis said.
“Well he’s going to need every ounce of strength he’s got to fight this off. It’s bad enough he’s got the tubes running into him everywhere, but he’s got those breathing treatments to put up with as well. We’re feeding him nourishment through the tube in his stomach but even that seems to cause him discomfort.”
“Is that it?” Buck asked not meaning for it to sound as sarcastic as it came out.
“Actually no it’s not. The wound in his abdomen is still showing signs of blood, not as much as it was but still more than it should be at this point in time.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Josiah asked.
“It could mean that we missed something when we repaired the injury to his intestine or there could be something totally different at work. I’ve ordered a MRI for this afternoon. Hopefully if there’s a problem, it’ll show up there. I’m also ordering more blood work as well.”
Silence reigned in the tiny room as each man’s thoughts turned to the man lying just down the hall from where they sat.
“Can I see him, Doc?” Vin asked.
“Yes, Mr. Tanner, you can. But please keep visits to a minimum for today. As I said he’s exhausted and waking him every four hours for treatment is not doing him much good either. I have to check on a couple of other patients but rest assured I’ll be there for the MRI on your friend,” Weaver said as he left the men to their thoughts.
“I’ll bring you to his room, Vin,” JD said quietly.
“Thanks, Kid,” Vin said as he fought to keep his emotions under control.
“Dammit I thought he was getting better,” Buck said as he slammed his fist down on the table, rattling the coffee mugs.
“Easy, Brother Buck, we’re all worried,” Sanchez said as he touched his fingertips to each other and placed them in front of his face.
“I know, Josiah, it’s just so frustrating. I talked with Chris earlier and he was so depressed. He wanted to go home said he was so damned tired.”
“Sounds like Brother Chris is a little depressed,” Josiah said.
“He is, Josiah, I think he’s been thinking about Sarah and Adam a lot lately. We had a talk before Chris and Vin left for the mountains. He’s still angry with God for taking them from him. He’s his own worst enemy when it comes to guilt. He blames himself for not being there to stop what happened,” Buck said as tears filled his eyes and threatened to escape. He closed his eyes and turned away from the others.
 |
 |
 |
 |