JD pushed Vin’s chair up to Chris’s bed. “You want me to stay, Vin?” he asked.
“No, I’ll be fine, JD. I just need to spend some time with Chris,” Vin answered.
Chris lay on the bed, eyes closed tightly against the newly awakened pain in his abdomen and stomach. Gina Lawrence had come and gone, making him suffer through another unwanted treatment. He heard Vin’s voice and waited for JD to leave before opening his eyes and looking at his friend, his brother.
“Hey, Cowboy, hear you’re not feeling too good,” Tanner said.
“I want to go home, Vin,” Chris said in a tired voice.
“I know, Pard, I do too. It won’t be long before we’re both back home,” Vin told him.
“I’m so sick of all this. Look at me tubes and wires coming from everywhere. Hell I can’t even pee on my own,” Chris said. “I’m sorry, Vin,” he said as he slammed his broken wrist into the side rail.
“I’m sorry, Chris, but if you do that again, I’m going to have to ask your friend to leave,” Sheila said as she checked the soft cast on her patient's wrist.
“Vin, don’t leave,” Chris said, knowing how selfish he sounded.
“Ain’t going nowhere, Pard,” Vin said.
“Thanks,” Chris said and closed his eyes. Vin thought his friend had fallen asleep but his quiet voice told him otherwise. “How are you doing, Vin?”
“I’m fine, Cowboy,” Tanner asked.
“Truth, Vin,” Chris said, keeping his eyes closed.
“Well my ankle hurts like a son of a bitch but my eyesight is getting better.”
Chris opened his own eyes and stared at his friend. “That’s great, Vin,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah, it sure is, Chris, now why don’t you get some sleep. I’ll stay right here for awhile,” Vin said.
“Thanks, Pard,” Chris said as he closed his eyes once again.
Vin Tanner watched his friends sleeping face. The usually handsome face was pale and filled with pain. The lines on his forehead seemed deeper than they’d ever been before. He worried about his best friend even when his own head felt as if it were about to explode. His eyes blurred and he squeezed them against the painful flashes and moaned softly.
“Go get some rest, Cowboy,” a weak voice from the bed said.
“I’m alright, Chris,” Vin assured him.
“Sure you are,” Chris said. “Look, Vin, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you’ve had some sleep. Please, just go,” Chris told him.
“You’ll have to leave now anyway, Mr. Tanner. The lab techs will be here shortly to do some tests and Chris is scheduled for a MRI this afternoon. Your friend is still outside the door so you might as well let him take you back to your room. If everything’s, ok you’ll be able to come back this evening,” Sheila told him.
“Go, Vin, I’m just gonna sleep anyway,” Chris said.
“You sure, Cowboy?”
A weak smile covered Chris’s pale face, “I’m sure, Pard,” he said.
“JD, I’m ready to go,” Vin called with one last glance at his friend. JD moved in and wheeled his friend from the room. They passed Nathan Jackson as he walked towards ICU Four.
“Now, Chris, I really think you should get some sleep. You’ve got a busy afternoon coming up,” Sheila told her patient.
“Can’t sleep,” Chris said.
“Why?”
“Hurts too m...much.”
“What hurts too much?” Shelia asked worriedly.
“My side. Damn t...tube feels like it’s s...stabbing into m...me,” Chris told her.
“Is it worse or about the same as it has been?” she asked taking note of the slightly higher temperature on her patient. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead as she watched him.
“Worse. N...not much but d...definitely worse.”
“What’s going on?” Nathan asked as he entered the room and saw the pained look on his friend's face.
“Hi, N...Nate,” Chris said, his voice laced with pain.
“Chris isn’t feeling very well,” Sheila answered as she began checking the drainage tube in his side. She looked worriedly at Nathan Jackson as she emptied the tubes and stepped to the wall mounted mike system.
“What do you need, Sheila?” a tinny voice asked.
“Would you ask Dr. Weaver to come to Mr. Larabee’s room?”
“Right away, Sheila,” the answer was immediate.
“W...hat’s wrong?” Chris asked, alarmed.
“You just relax, Chris, I want Dr. Weaver to check you out. He’ll know better what’s happening. Ok?”
“Ok,” the blonde answered tiredly.
“I don’t know,” Sheila answered Jackson’s unanswered question. “Dr. Weaver will be here in a few minutes. He’ll be able to tell you more."
“G...God it hurts,” Chris cried, trying to curl into a ball as a new wave of agony hit his abdomen.
“Easy, Chris, just lie still,” Nathan said as he stepped up to the bed.
“C...can’t N...Nate,” Chris cried as he clung to the medic's arms and tried to ride out the pain.
“JD, take me back,” Vin said as JD wheeled the chair into his room.
“What? Why?”
“Something’s wrong with Chris. Take me back to his room.”
“Right now you’re not going anywhere, Mr. Tanner,” a nurse Vin recognized from the day before said. “I need to do vitals and Dr. Mercer is on her way down to see you.”
“I have to see, Chris,” Vin said adamantly.
“Mr. Tanner, it’s time you thought about your own health. I know all about your friend upstairs and if you like, I’ll call up to see how he’s doing. Right now I want you back in your own bed and not arguing with me. Bring him inside,” she said as JD sheepishly kept his eyes averted but did as he was told.
“JD,” Vin tried.
“Sorry, Vin but she’s a barracuda compared to you,” JD whispered in Vin’s ear.
“I heard that. Now let’s get this Guppy in bed where he belongs,” the nurse said as she looked at the two men smiling inside at being likened to a barracuda.
“Yes, ma’am,” JD said swallowing the lump in his throat.
Vin soon found himself back in his own bed but he couldn’t rest. His mind kept turning to his injured friend upstairs. Something was wrong with Chris and he needed to be near him.
“I’ll stay with you if you like,” JD said.
“JD, I need to know about Chris,” Vin said as the nurse, who’s name he’d finally remembered was Thelma something or other changed his nearly empty IV. She adjusted the flow and inserted a needle into one of the junctures. “What’s that?” he asked her.
“It’s the sedative Dr. Beattie ordered for you. Now let it take affect and get some sleep. I’m going to put up the sides of your bed and I don’t want you trying to get out of it on your own.”
“Fine,” Vin said as the weariness he’d tried to fight took over. Between that and the sedative he was soon asleep and the nurse left him to rest. JD was torn between going up and checking on Chris or staying with Vin. He finally sighed and pulled a chair over to the window to keep the sleeping man company. He knew if something were wrong with Chris, Buck or one of the others would come tell them. The silence of the room was broken only by the soft snores from the injured man on the bed.
“What’s going on?” Weaver asked as he hurried into the room.
“His temperature is up two degrees and there’s more fluid draining from his abdomen,” Sheila said as the doctor walked up to the bed.
Nathan stepped back out of the way and listened to the exchange. His face showed the worry he felt for the blonde haired man. He wondered what had happened to suddenly make him think they were going to lose Chris.
“We must have missed something,” Weaver said as he checked the fluid that had collected in the drain. The fluid had darkened again and his patient was writhing in agony. “Sheila, call ahead and arrange for an OR. Have Dr. Simpson paged immediately,” he ordered as he checked his patient's eyes.
Sheila relayed the orders over the mic and turned back to the man on the bed.
“Chris, can you hear me?” Weaver asked.
“Y...yes, W...what’s g... oh, God,” he cried as the pain twisted like a knife through his side.
“Easy, I know it hurts but we’re going to help you. I’m going to give you something to help with the pain and then I’m going to explain what I think may have happened,” Weaver said as he watched the nurse fill a syringe and inject it into the IV line. “That should take affect pretty fast, Chris. Try to relax and let it take hold.”
“K,” Chris said through clenched teeth. He tried to ignore the doctor's ministrations but his body felt as if it were on fire. He gasped as Weaver hit a sore spot on his abdomen and tried to move away.
“What’s going on, Matt?”
“I think we missed something, Roger. He’s still bleeding and his temperature is rising again. Extreme soreness in the abdomen and increased discharge.”
“Damn, thought we’d found everything,” Simpson said as he examined the patient. He finished quickly and signalled for Weaver to follow him outside.
Jackson replaced Weaver at the side of the bed and reached out to take Chris’s hand in his own. “You’re going to be fine, Chris,” Nathan said soothingly.
“Nate, tell V...Vin. T...tell em I’m sorry,” Chris said as the pain meds kicked in and he became listless.
“You can tell him yourself, Chris,” Jackson said.
“N...no time. T...tell V...Vin s...sorry bout e...eyes,” Chris said as he surrendered to sleep.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave, Mr. Jackson,” Weaver said as he came back into the room.
“What’s going on Doc?”
“We’re taking Chris back to surgery. From what we’ve seen, we’re pretty certain we missed something.”
“Like what?” Nathan asked.
“We won’t know till we go back inside. Probably another nick in the intestine that didn’t show up the first time. I’m sorry we have to get him ready so you’ll have to go.”
Jackson took one last look at his friend and walked out of the room. The weight on his shoulders made him want to sink to the ground but he knew he had to go fill the others in on what was happening. He walked towards the now familiar waiting room and entered to find the other’s talking quietly.
“Nathan?” Buck said as he saw the look on his friends face.
“Give me a sec, Buck,” Jackson said as he tried to get his own emotions under control.
“Chris,” Buck cried and tried to leave the room.
Nathan’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Not now, Buck, they’re getting him ready for more surgery,” Nathan said unable to keep the tiny quiver from his voice.
“What?” Buck said as his legs threatened to give out.
“Chris took a turn for the worse. It looks like he’s still bleeding inside. Dr. Weaver and Dr. Simpson are prepping now.”
“Take a seat, Buck,” Travis said as he watched the shaking agent.
“I’m going to see Chris,” Wilmington said.
“You can’t, Buck, don’t you understand they have to go now. Right now. He’s in such pain,” Jackson said.
“Goddammit to hell. I thought he was past all this. Hasn’t that man been through enough?” Buck cried.
“I think you need to calm down, Brother Buck,” Sanchez said. “Right now, you’re not doing Chris any good. I think our best bet would be to leave word at the Nurses station and go down with Brother Vin. He’s going to be upset by this news.”
Buck wanted nothing more than to tear the place apart. His anger at the agony his friend was going through was making his head spin. He finally sank into the nearest chair.
“I need a drink,” he said.
“Let’s go check on, Mr. Tanner,” Standish said.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” Buck said.
“You sure, Mr. Wilmington,” Standish asked.
“Yeah, I just need some time to myself right now, Ez,” Buck told him. He heard the others leave the room and finally released the sobs he’d held in check. ‘God, Pard, you gotta be ok. I lost Sarah and Adam right along with you and I don’t think I can lose you as well,’ he thought as he finally stood up to leave.
When he reached the door, he watched a bed being pushed into ICU four. Slamming the door behind him, he hurried forward. He stood in front of the door and watched as his friend was disconnected from the machinery and gently lifted onto the gurney. There was no protest from the too still body and Buck caught himself staring as the machines were shut off. It seemed so final to him.
Sides were put up on the bed and it was wheeled out of the room and past him. He followed the stretcher until they reached a set of doors that said Authorized Personnel Only beyond this point!!! Buck stood and watched as Chris was wheeled through.
“We’ll be here when you get back, Pard,” he said aloud. With heavy heart, he went to check on his other injured friend.
Once again six men waited for word on the seventh member of the team. Travis stood by the window feeling like an outsider. Chris Larabee was his employee as were the other members of the Firm’s elite team, but Chris was also their leader. They came to Chris when they needed something and he’d relay that information to Travis.
He’d had enough arguments with the man, even managed to win a few, but not when it came to Chris’s men. He’d never gotten the upper hand on Larabee and he wondered if he ever would. He hoped and prayed he’d get the chance to go Toe to Toe with the blonde haired man.
Vin was tired but he fought his way to consciousness. Something kept niggling at his mind. Something to do with the man he considered a brother. The pain in his head had receded again but his ankle still throbbed painfully. Slowly he opened his eyes and was instantly awake. “Chris,” he said as he took in the six men present. He tried to sit up but a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him.
“You alright, Brother Vin?” Sanchez asked from his perch by the bed.
“I’m fine, Josiah. What’s going on with C...Chris?” he asked stumbling on the last word.
“If you promise not to try and get out of that bed, I’ll tell you,” Jackson said.
Tanner scowled angrily and said. “Nathan!”
“There’s nothing you can do for Chris right now, Vin. They’ve taken him back to surgery.”
“Why?” Vin asked worriedly.
“Dr. Weaver thinks they missed something. The wound in his abdomen isn’t healing properly and is still showing signs of bleeding and waste,” Jackson explained.
“I knew something was wrong. I knew I should have insisted on going back up to see him,” Vin said in a guilt-ridden voice.
“It’s not your fault, Pard,” Wilmington said softly. “Believe me, Vin, I feel just as guilty as you do but it doesn’t do Chris or us any good. He’d be the first to tell us that,” Wilmington told the younger man.
“How long ago?” Tanner asked.
Nathan looked at his watch for what seemed the hundredth time in the last two hours.
“He’s been in surgery about two hours now,” he answered.
“I want to be there when they bring him down,” Vin said.
“We’ll see, Vin,” Jackson said.
“Nathan, I have to be there. Chris needs me and I n...” he stopped before he revealed too much but the others had heard.
“If you rest and get some more sleep, I’ll see if your doctor will clear it,” Jackson said.
“I ain’t going no where,” Vin said as he relaxed into the pillow. His body may have looked relaxed but his mind was in turmoil as he lay against the soft cushion. He kept hearing Chris’s voice just before he’d left his room. So down and depressed, asking to go home.
“He’ll be fine, Brother Vin,” Sanchez said, gently patting the man’s shoulder. Silence once again took over as the men waited to hear word of their fallen comrade.
“How’s your head feeling, Mr. Tanner?” Standish asked.
“Not as bad as earlier, Ezra, and my sight seems to be returning as well. Things are not as blurry as they were.”
“Go to sleep, Vin,” Jackson said. “We’ll wake you as soon as we know anything.”
“I’ll try, Nathan,” Vin said but no one believed he’d sleep.
“I’m going to see if there’s any word,” Buck whispered to JD. He wasn’t sure if Vin was sleeping or not but he’d been quiet for the past hour.
“Want me to come with you?” JD asked.
“No, stay here with the others. I’ll be back as soon as I know anything,” Buck said as he slipped out the door.
Buck approached the nurses desk on the seventh floor. It had been almost four hours since Chris had been taken to surgery and Buck was worried more than he let on. He’d listened to Chris’s voice and known there was something wrong with him. Something more than his injuries. He worried that his friend was slipping back into the depression he’d been in for weeks after Sarah and Adam’s death; weeks filled with pain, guilt, and longing. Buck was certain he’d lose Chris Larabee until the day he’d met Vin Tanner. Vin had brought something vital back to Chris. Something intangible or so it seemed until Buck saw the change come over his friend.
He recognized Chris’s nurse and called out to her. “Sheila, any word yet?”
“I’m afraid he’s still in surgery, Mr. Wilmington,” she said as she walked towards him. “There’s been no word on his condition.”
“That’s not good is it?” Buck asked.
“Sometimes things get complicated in surgery, Mr. Wilmington. It could be just that they’re having trouble finding the problem.”
“I wish they’d hurry up,” he said as he followed the nurse to Chris’s room. He could see they’d changed the bed covers and cleaned up the room and suddenly Buck was once again struck with the feeling of finality.
“Sheila, they’ll be bringing your patient down in a few minutes,” a voice said over the intercom.
“See, Mr. Wilmington, nothing to worry about. You’ll have to wait outside while they bring him in,” Sheila said. “Why don’t you go tell your friends he’s out and I’ll have the nurse’s station let you know if you can come see him?”
“I’ll wait to see what the doctor has to say first,” Buck said as he walked out of the room and leaned against the wall. Five anxious minutes later he watched as a stretcher was wheeled towards him. He stood aside and let the orderlies wheel the precious cargo into the room. He was relieved to see that his friend wasn’t hooked up to the ventilator again.
He watched as Chris was gently moved from the stretcher and back to the more comfortable bed. He hated seeing all the tubes and leads being reconnected and wondered when they’d be taken out for good.
It wasn’t long before Dr. Weaver showed up and Buck waited for him to check on Chris before he asked his questions. Weaver checked the monitors and wrote new orders on the patient's chart before he left the room.
“How is he Doc?” Buck asked before the man had cleared the doors.
“Well, Mr. Wilmington, we’re pretty certain we’ve found the culprit and corrected it. There was another tiny nick in your friend’s intestine and we’ve repaired it. Hopefully we’ll see a marked improvement in his condition over the next twenty four to forty eight hours.”
“And if we don’t?” Buck asked, fearing the worst.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”
“Can he have visitors?”
“I’d rather you all went home and got some rest. Chris has been through a lot and will most likely sleep through the night. His body is still fighting the pneumonia and he still has a few more treatments to endure but Dr. Lawrence has agreed to wait until he’s had a chance to recover from this latest surgery.”
“Alright, Doc, I’ll see if I can convince the others,” Buck said. “I’m just going to look in on him for a second, Ok?”
“Just for a second. I told you he needs to rest,” Weaver said as he walked to the nurses station.
Buck walked into the room and watched the nurse replace the bag of antibiotic. She also placed something in his IV line and then covered him with a tiny blanket.
“He’s sleeping, Mr. Wilmington,” she said.
“Dr. Weaver said he’ll probably sleep through the night,” Buck said as he flicked a stray lock of blonde hair from his friend's forehead.
“He probably will. Between the anaesthetic and the pain meds we’re giving him, he should have a comfortable night. You and your friends should get some rest yourselves.”
“We’ll see,” Buck said as he left the room.
“Where’s Buck,” Vin asked as he opened his eyes and surveyed the room.
“He went up to see if there was any word on Chris,” Travis said.
“How long’s it been now?” Tanner asked.
“Four and a half hours, Vin.” Jackson answered.
“Any word?”
“Nothing yet,” Sanchez told him.
“Why’s it taking so long?” Tanner asked.
“Hey, Buck,” JD said as the door opened. “Any word?”
“He’s back in his room,” Wilmington told them.
“How is he?” came from six mouths at once.
“He’s sleeping but the doc says he came through it well. He wants us to let him rest tonight.”
“Like hell, Buck, I have to see him,” Vin said as he threw off the blankets.
“Vin, he won’t even know you're there,” Wilmington told him.
“Yes he will, Buck, I need to see Chris. Please, Buck, take me up there,” Tanner begged.
“I tell you what we’ll do, Vin. I’ll bring you upstairs and if the nurse says it’s ok, I’ll bring you in for a few minutes, but that’s it. Then you’ll come back here and get some rest yourself. Deal?” Buck told him.
“Shoot, Buck, that’s all I’ve been doing,” Vin told him.
“You’ve been in bed but you haven’t been resting,” Jackson said.
“Vin, is it a deal?”
“Yes, Buck. Just get me up to his room.”
Wilmington pushed the chair up to ICU four. Sheila met him there.
“Mr. Wilmington, Dr. Weaver asked you not to come up here today,” she said.
“Please, Ma’am, It’s my fault. I need to see him,” Tanner pleaded.
Sheila looked into the blue eyes of the young man in the chair. She could see an immense sadness in the expressive eyes and knew this man cared deeply for her patient. “I’ll let you see him for a minute, but that’s it. You look like you could use some sleep yourself. The rest of you,” she said taking in the other men who’d followed Buck and Vin, “can wait out here. I’m sorry but Dr. Weaver wants your friend to rest.”
Buck wheeled Vin’s chair up to the bed and Vin felt his fears recede. He’d thought the worst when Buck had told them that Chris had needed more surgery. He’d worried that he’d never be able to talk with him again.
“Hey, Cowboy, you know if you keep this up, I’ll look older than you. It’s not nice to scare the life out of the rest of us. I know you can hear me Pard and I want you to know I’ll be here for you.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave now. We’ve got a few things to do for Chris before the next shift comes on. You can come back in the morning,” Sheila said as she saw the downfallen look on the man in the wheel chair.
“You heard her, Pard,” Buck said softly.
“Just a few more minutes,” Vin asked hopefully.
“No way, Pard, we had a deal remember?”
“Alright, Buck,” Vin said. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Chris,” Vin said as his chair was pulled away from his friends bed.
Vin Tanner woke in a cold sweat. He’d been asleep since the nurse had given
him the sedative and had been stuck in a nightmare the whole time. He was blind,
totally irreparably blind and Chris was lost. He couldn’t find him, was hopeless
to search for him. A cold shudder ran down his spine as he realized the darkness
was not permanent.
He remembered his friends had left the hospital for some much needed rest. Once again the feeling that he needed to be with Chris clouded his better judgement and he pushed down the side rail of his bed. The hated chair stood next to his bed and he had no choice but to use it because they’d refused to supply crutches, saying he needed to stay off the ankle for a few more days.
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