All Disclaimers apply.

Tossing the file that he had been holding in his hand onto the small table beside him in the hospital waiting room, Chris ran a hand over his face. 'Seems like I was just here,' the blonde man thought dryly, trying to ignore how tired he was. Glancing at his watch, he again wondered why the doctor had not come out yet. Nathan had been in surgery for over two hours. If the doctor was correct in his initial assessment, the metal shard had not penetrated an organ. If that was the case, it would be a simple matter of extracting it and repairing the damage. 'He did say he was going to debreed the burn while he was sedated,' Chris thought, trying to come up with a reason for it to take longer without it meaning Nathan was worse.

Grimacing at the thought of how painful that would be, Larabee had no doubt that it would be for the best. The doctor had already told them an infection had set into the five-by-three inch burn.

Getting up, Larabee moved to stand beside the window. It had been a hard couple days - on all of them. Gazing into the darkness outside, he took the opportunity to study the others through their images reflected in the glass.

JD and Buck were slumped in their chairs. Buck had his eyes closed, no doubt trying to still the pounding that continued to ring in his head from the earlier concussion. JD was staring up at the ceiling, a frown on his face. Periodically, he would look longingly down the hallway for a few seconds before again turning his gaze to the ceiling.

Across from them, Ezra was sitting, hands clasped in his lap and his face a blank mask . He had long ago given up any pretense of being unconcerned by looking at magazines or playing solitaire.

Averting his eyes, Chris' gaze fell on his second in command. Vin was sitting beside Ezra, slumped forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. He was absentmindedly rubbing the callouses on the palms of his hands. As if sensing the scrutiny, he looked up and stared back at Chris.

Turning with a small smile on his face, Chris shook his head slightly to tell the marksman he didn't need anything from him. He had merely been reassuring himself.

"I suppose one of us should go tell Josiah we don't know anything yet," Vin said softly, sitting up.

"I'll do it," Chris replied, heading for the profiler's room a short distance down the dimly lit hall.

Easing open the door, Chris heard the nurse's frustrated voice.

"Mr. Sanchez, if you don't calm down and stay still, you are going to reopen your chest." Softening her voice, she continued. "I understand that you are concerned about your friend but I'm sure if there is any news...." Spotting Chris coming in, she trailed off. Nodding as Chris, she squeezed Josiah's arm, "I'll be back to check on you in a little bit."

Easing into the chair beside the bed, Chris noticed the piercing gaze of the big man's blue eyes upon him. Seeing the fatigue in Josiah's face, he knew he had not been resting as everyone wanted him to do.

"How's Nathan?" Josiah's deep voice rumbled in the quiet room.

"Still in surgery."

Visibly sinking back into the bed, Josiah let out a long breath and stared at the ceiling. He was still stunned by what had happened. If it had been Vin or Chris who had taken off after Clayborne like that, it would not have surprised him. Nathan, however, was another matter.

"What about Clayborne?" Josiah queried, glancing at Chris.

"Broken nose and some black eyes. Screaming brutality and false arrest to anyone who'll listen," Chris said, frowning.

"Think they'll be trouble?"

Shrugging, Chris tried to make light of the situation. "They'll be an investigation and possibly a reprimand in Nathan's jacket...."

"Reprimand?" Josiah interrupted, seemingly insulted by the thought. "What you mean reprimand? The guy was standing over him, shoving a gun in his face..."

"I know," Chris tried to interject.

"...and Vin told me the print they found in my truck and the tire tracks matched Clayborne's and..."

"I know," Chris tried again, holding up a hand to motion Josiah to calm down.

"...you tell me they're gonna hang Nathan out to dry?" Josiah finally finished, his voice strained from anger and exertion.

"IF - and I do mean, if - I reprimand him, it'll be for giving up his gun, not for defending himself," Chris said firmly. Watching the indignation deflate from Josiah, he was struck by the ferocity of Josiah's defense for his partner. If it had been Josiah who was facing possible discipline, Chris wondered if he would be so adamant about his own defense as he was about Nathan's.

After a few minutes, Josiah raised tired eyes to Chris. After working himself up, he was feeling especially drained. "How are the others doing?"

Shifting in his chair, Chris allowed the image of how he had left the others a few minutes earlier to enter his mind. "They are," he paused, trying to find the right word to describe them. After a few seconds, he looked at Josiah and said, "Rattled."

"Chris?"

Hearing Ezra's voice from the doorway, Larabee turned.

"Doctor's looking for you."

Nodding, Chris told Josiah he would be right back before leaving the room. Going back into the waiting area, he approached the man still in surgical scrubs. "Dr. Taylor, how's he doing?"

Shaking Chris' hand in greeting, he glanced at the five anxious men standing around him. "First off, as I suspected, the metal glanced off his hip bone and embedded itself in soft tissue. He'll be sore for a couple weeks but as long as he doesn't go on anymore marathons, it should heal fine."

A sigh of relief passed through the agents. "What about his leg?" Ezra asked, the first to get the question out.

Dr. Taylor shifted uneasily. "Quite frankly, I don't know how he kept going for as long as he did on it. The burn is very deep. I cleaned it and trimmed as much of the dead tissue away that I could, but he'll need to see a specialist when he get's back to Denver for a graft."

Watching the guarded expression on the physician's face, Vin quietly asked, "What else?"

Pursing his lips, Taylor decided it would be best to just tell them everything and get it over with. "I'm sure you noticed that the procedure took a little longer than I had expected. We had some problem getting him stabilized."

"Problem?" Buck blurted. "What kind of problem?"

"In addition to aggravating the wounds, Mr. Jackson's 'run' shall we say, caused him to loose a great deal of blood. This compounded his dehydration and threw his electrolytes out of balance." Seeing the confused looks on their face, the doctor tried to explain. "Electrolytes are part of the system that regulate heart functions. On top of this, he reacted to one of the antibiotics we were giving him, causing him to go into severe respiratory distress."

"You mean he stopped breathing?" JD asked quietly, a tremor of fear tinging his voice.

"No, I mean he almost stopped breathing," Taylor clarified gently. "But we did have to put him on a ventilator." Concerned rustling from the men made him hold his hands up to calm them. "It is only temporary, until we can get his fluid level up and his body has a chance to recover somewhat."

"When will that be?"

Six heads turned in surprise at the strained voice from the doorway that had asked the question.

"Josiah! You shouldn't be out here," several voices simultaneously admonished the big man slumped against the door frame, blood from the blown IV sight dripping down the hand and arm pressed to his chest.

Ignoring his teammates, Josiah pinned the doctor before him with somber eyes. "When will that be?" he whispered again, his strength rapidly failing him.

"Mr. Sanchez, we need to get you back in bed," Taylor said, moving to take Josiah's arm to help him. An iron hand on his wrist stopped him.

Watching as Josiah halted the doctor's assistance, Chris knew the profiler would fight all of them until he had an answer or he passed out. Hoping to avoid the latter, he caught the doctor's eyes and silently told him to answer the question.

Sighing, Dr. Taylor nodded once to Chris before looking back at the haunted eyes of his first patient. "I'm not sure. At least 24 hours, maybe longer. He's in critical condition right now."

Slowly releasing his grip, Josiah turned around, giving into the urging of the hands holding him upright. Making it back to his room with a great deal of effort, he allowed himself to be eased back into the bed. Grabbing out at the arms of the two closest men, Josiah's eyes darted between his friends. "Don't let him wake up alone."

Extracting his arm, Ezra squeezed Josiah's hand in a silent promise before moving out of the way so the nurse could restart the IV Josiah had ripped out before his 'journey' down the hallway.

*************

Nodding to the nurse documenting Nathan's vitals, Ezra slowly advanced to the bedside. Glancing at the various machines and monitors, he tried to ignore the rhythmic sound of the ventilator as it pushed and pulled air from Nathan's body. Of all the sounds associated with a hospital, that was the one he hated the most.

Running his eyes over his friend, Ezra realized that JD had been correct when he said that Nathan looked like he had lost in a paint ball match. The reaction to the antibiotic had left small red welts all over his arms, neck, and chest that disappeared into the bandage around his waist. Standish had no doubt that the same marks would be on his lower extremities also.

Leaning forward to see if the rash was also on his face, Ezra realized that Nathan was frowning deeply. Glancing over his shoulder at the nurse, he asked "Is he in pain?"

"I just gave him something," the nurse said, acknowledging Ezra's concern while assuring him she had already taken steps to take care of it. Moving back to the bed to retrieve a print out from the monitor, she looked at the man forelonely standing best the bed. "He opened his eyes a few minutes ago. He may do so again if you speak to him."

Looking at the nurse to make sure he had heard her correctly, Ezra bowed his head to acknowledge the encouragement he saw on her face before she left the small room. Turning his gaze back to Nathan, he opened and closed his mouth several times without anything coming out. He was shocked to realize that he wasn't sure of what to say.

"Not one of your better days, my friend," Ezra finally began softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You, who have been the stalwart benchmark of our little team, were totally reckless and capricious today."

Sobering, Ezra toyed with the edge of the sheet between his fingers, creasing and straightening it. "I've always admired your steadfast philosophy of justice. You see a wrong, you work to make it right. There is no hesitation, no contemplation of personal gain. Yet, in your zeal, I have never seen you sacrifice a part of yourself to the evil that you were attempting to stop. Until today."

Slowly shaking his head, the southerner laughed uneasily. "Today, you stepped into my world. One of shadows and illusions. One that can seductively lure you into believing that as long as the ends are just, the means of acquiring that end do not matter. And sometimes.... sometimes it is easy to become lost in this belief... in this world." Pausing, Ezra frowned at the memory of how many times he had found himself on the edge of forgetting that the role he was playing in a case was merely that - a role. He wasn't the drug dealing, gun running, blood thirsty murdering SOB he had to so often portray.

Reaching out to straighten the end of Nathan's pillowcase, a sad smile appeared on Ezra's face. "Today, you have joined the ranks of the rest of us mere mortals, vulnerable to desires of revenge and injuries from our impetuous actions." Laying a hand on Nathan's arm, Ezra squeezed it and sighed. "Now that you have touched the darkness, I just hope you can escape it."

*****************

"I can do this all night now," Buck drawled, turning a chair and straddling it across from Martin Clayborne. Frustrated with the futility of waiting at the hospital for Nathan to wake up, he had decided his time would be better spent interrogating Clayborne to find out if anyone else was responsible for the attack on Josiah.

Raising his eyes from the little man before him, Wilmington grimaced at the time on the clock. Four in the morning. Yeah, he could do this all night - when he was younger. Right now, he just wished he could get the hell out of there.

Shifting his gaze back to the prisoner, Buck mentally frowned. The averted, petulant look on Clayborne's face combined with the arms crossed across his chest was doing little to endear him to anyone. Deciding he needed to change tactics, Buck suddenly slapped the table before him and bellowed, "HEY!"

When Clayborne started, but still refused to look at the ATF agent, Buck jumped up and shoved the chair out of his way. The loud scraping of the metal legs on the floor caused Clayborne to jump again. This time, however, he couldn't keep himself from shifting his gaze to the agent now towering over the table.

"You put two friends in the hospital. Now, I want to know who else was involved," Buck growled, venom dripping from his words.

"Nobody," Clayborne spat out, again turning his battered face away from Buck.

"Listen, you little shit," Buck growled, reaching across the table to snatch a handful of Clayborne's shirt and yanking him upright. Shoving his face into Clayborne's, Buck continued., "With them bruises, I could smack you around some and no one would ever know the difference. Now, stop lying to me. We know there was a woman involved. Who is she?"

Flinching at the savage eyes boring into him, Clayborne tried to pull away from them and the iron grip that had him. When he could neither, he began to crumble. "How the hell would I know," he finally spat out. "She was just some woman who happened to have a flat tire."

Buck released his grip and shoved the prisoner back into his chair. Standing upright, he reached back and moved the chair back by the table. Again straddling it, the mustached man plopped back down. "Go on."

"I'd seen some guy taking pictures around my place, so I followed him... to find out who he was and why the hell he was snooping around," Clayborne muttered, resigned to the fact that he was in too deep now to shut up. "So I was following him when he stopped to help some woman who was pulled off the side of the road. So I pull over and go walking up there." Leaning forward, Clayborne raised one hand in the air. "I'm thinking that maybe I can get the camera while he's distracted, you know? So, I sneak up there and I see it, on the dash. I reach in to get it and the next thing I know, he's got a hold of my arm."

"What happened then?" Buck asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"He wouldn't let me go and then he starts yellin' about being a federal agent. I freaked," Clayborne said, slumping back into the chair. "The next thing I know, the broad's screaming and blood is squirting everywhere. She yanks the baby out of the truck and jumps into her car and drives off, flat tire and all."

"And you just let her go?" Buck asked dryly.

"Hey man. I ain't into hurting babies," Clayborne said defensively, seemingly insulted by the implication.

Waving his hand in mock apology, Wilmington brought Clayborne back to the story at hand. "So what did you do after she took off?"

"I got to thinkin' that if this guy was a federal agent like he was saying, I needed to buy some time - so I could get some money together, you know? So I took his wallet and was looking for the truck registration when I found his gun. No sense leaving it there, so I took it," Clayborne finished.

Standing up, Buck opened a drawer in the desk and jerked a note pad from it. Tossing it onto the table top, he held a pen towards Clayborne. "How about you write all this down for me now," Buck said, easing himself back into the chair to wait for the written confession.

*************

Turning away from the window and the sight of the sun as it began to peek over the eastern horizon, Vin shoved his sleeve back to look at his watch. It was almost time to wake Ezra up to take over. The two of them had alternated in two hours shift in the room with Nathan while JD and Chris had the inevitable task of trying to keep Josiah in his bed. The last he had heard, Chris was threatening to tie Josiah down. Feeling a presence in the room, Vin looked up to see Chris standing in the doorway.

"Nate wakes up now and you'll scare him to death," Vin drawled, as he watched the blonde man halt his progress on the opposite side of the bed. From the dark circles under his eyes and the deep lines etched around his mouth, any sleep Chris might had gotten was unrestful.

Throwing the younger man a brief but vicious scowl, Chris tried to judge Nathan's condition. He no longer saw any sign of pain etched into Nathan's face nor signs that he was fighting the machines that were allowing his body to heal. In addition, the splotchy welts that told of the severity of his reaction to the antibiotic had faded from a fire engine red to a light cherry. "Looks better this morning," Chris observed softly, feeling a small portion of his anxiousness slip away.

"Hear anything from Buck?" Vin queried, as he watched Chris' features ease slightly with the knowledge that Nathan was gaining ground.

Nodding, Chris replied, "Got a full confession from Clayborne."

"One that won't be thrown out?" Vin asked, wondering what type of 'persuasion' Buck had used on the man.

"Swears he never hit him," Chris answered, shrugging to indicate that he wasn't sure if it was the truth or not. As agitated as Wilmington had been when he had left the hospital, he wasn't going to guarantee anything.

Silence again descended in the little room, save the sounds of the monitors and the hated ventilator. Staring down at his incendiary specialist, Chris couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't seen this coming. He knew Nathan had been walking a tight rope of emotions since Josiah had been hurt. And he always knew deep down inside that Nathan had the capacity to be as impulsive as the rest of them. Still, the idea that he would take after Clayborne if the bust had gone sour never entered into his mind - even as a fleeting thought. Mentally snorting, Chris just as quickly countered that argument. 'Even if it had, it would of never included the possibility that he would jeopardize his own life to do so.' That was so unlike the man who placed others' well-being far above and beyond his own.

"Got another one to worry about now, don't you?" Vin said quietly, his eyes softening in sympathy at the thought of how much energy and time Chris spent trying to anticipate what his men might do in the various situations they encountered. Up til now, he had at least one agent that he didn't have to worry about too much. Now that man had proven he could be as reckless as his partners.

Blowing out a loud breath, Chris ran a hand over his face. "You'd think one of these days I'd get smart and let all of you kill yourselves and get it over with."

Vin shook his head as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Hell, we'd just come back and haunt ya."

The movement of Nathan's head forestalled any further bantering. Turning all of their attention to the injured man, Chris and Vin hoped that Nathan was finally going to open his eyes.

Laying one hand on Nathan's forearm, Vin leaned forward. "Hey, Jackson. You gonna sleep the day away?"

A fluttering of eyes answered Vin's question. Holding his breath, Chris waited. Brown eyes opened slightly. As awareness crept into Nathan's consciousness, Chris felt Nathan's body stiffen. Almost immediately afterward, his eyes flew open in panic.

"Easy, Nathan," Chris soothed, grabbing the hand that was moving to pull on the tubing in his mouth.

"You're okay. It's only temporary," Vin stressed, restraining the other hand. He knew how disconcerting it was to wake up on the vent, not being able to talk... afraid that you are never going to be able to breathe on your own. It wasn't something he wished on his worst enemy.

Seeking escape, terrified eyes darted between the two men leaning over the bed. As recognition of who they were and cognition of what they were saying settled in, Nathan slumped back into the bed, soaking in the support and comfort Chris and Vin were sending him with their eyes.

"Okay?" Chris asked lightly after a few minutes, giving Nathan as much time as he needed. Only when Nathan blinked his eyes indicating he was ready did both Chris and Vin ease their grips and moved back a little. They did not, however, take their hands from his arms, nor did they move out of his eyesight.

"You know when you're feeling better, you and I are going to have a talk," Chris stated lightly, his tone of voice taking any sting out of his words.

At the words 'feeling better', Nathan's hand moved to his side. Questioning eyes relayed the words his mouth could not.

"Missed everything important," Vin offered. "Didn't ask 'em to go into details. Doc just said he stitched you up and that it should heal fine."

Nathan's hand moved lower to indicate the covers over his leg. He could feel the wetness of the Vaseline bandage that protected the area while allowing it to breathe.

"Pretty nasty burn, all the way down to the muscle," Chris intoned flatly. "Once you're off this thing," waiving towards the ventilator, "and stronger, we'll have to fly you home for a graft."

Nathan's hand moved upward toward the tubing in his mouth. When Vin stopped him from getting any closer to it, he cut sharp eyes toward him before turning them back to Chris for an explanation of why he was on it if his injuries were not that serious.

Giving Nathan the explanation that the doctor had given them, Chris watched his eyes to see if it made sense to the ex-medic. Seeing it did, Chris felt another piece of his fear disappear like smoke on a windy day.

"Okay, enough visiting," Dr. Taylor chided, coming into the small area, his eyes flickering between the monitors, his patient, and the two self-imposed sentinels. He had already received the report from the nursing staff of the bedside vigils that had been held here and down the hall. "He's suppose to be resting."

Stepping between Vin and the bed, the doctor leaned on the railing and looked at his patient. "Mr. Jackson. Do you remember me?

A blink of eyes and a slight nod indicated he did.

"Good. How about we kick these two out of here and then I'll take a look at you so we can decide how much longer before we can move you in with your partner?"

Another slight nod.

"Gentlemen?" Taylor said, waiting for them to concede to their friend's wishes.

Locking his eyes with Nathan, Chris silently asked him if he would be okay by himself.

Reaching out and squeezing Chris' hand, Nathan assured him he would be.

"We're gonna go tell the others you're awake. Someone will be back in a little bit," Vin said, as much for the doctor's sake as Nathan's. He wanted to make sure the physician knew that he had no intention of allowing Nathan to be by himself for long.

************

Opening his eyes and staring at unfamiliar surroundings, it took Nathan several minutes to remember that he was in the hospital. Feeling the tube in his throat, he instinctively tried to reach for it. A hand stopped him before he could get a hold of it.

"Boy, you're sure set on pulling that thing out aren't you?"

Turning his head towards the voice, Nathan's eyes twinkled with pleasure when he saw the face of one JD Dunne grinning back at him.

"Doc says he's gonna take it out anytime now, seein' as it's been 24 hours and you're blood work is better."

Frowning, Nathan was shocked at the amount of time he had slept. He knew it had been early in the morning when he had wakened before, but if 24 hours had passed since the ventilator had been inserted during surgery, that meant it was late evening now.

"Chris, Vin and Ezra are at the hotel sleeping. None of 'em slept last night and Ezra and Vin stayed with you all day. Chris was up most of the day, too, doin' paperwork so Clayborne could be transferred to Denver to face federal charges," JD said, settling back down on the stool that had appeared beside the bed while Nathan had been sleeping. "Buck got back from restin' up a little while ago and he's with Josiah now. They were playing cards when I was in there last."

"Mary called to see how you were doing," JD prattled on. "Said to tell you she's thinkin' of ya and that she'll see you in a day or two when they send you back. Oh... and Billy said to tell ya hi."

"Chris finally got ahold of Rain. Told her, there wasn't any sense of her trying to come back from Europe early since you was doin' okay and there wasn't anything she could do for you anyway. Man, that must be neat to be able to take two weeks and travel around a foreign country like that. If I could do that, I'd go to Australia. What about you?"

Sheepishly, JD looked away from the amused brown eyes watching him and slumped in his seat. "Sorry. I forgot for a minute that you can't talk with that thing in your throat."

After a few minutes of silence, JD looked back up to see concerned eyes looking at him. "What's the matter Nathan? You need something?" JD asked anxiously, standing up to go get the nurse if need be.

Shaking his head, Nathan grabbed JD's arm to stop him from running for help. Squeezing his hand to let him know he was okay, he nodded towards JD.

"Me?" JD queried. "You're wondering if I'm okay?"

Nathan nodded, glad he had finally gotten his message through.

Laughing lightly, JD answered the question, without really answering it. "You and Josiah were hurt, not me."

Knowing eyes continued to stare at the younger man. Shaking the arm he still had a hold of, Nathan silently chided JD for not being forthright in his response.

Both knew Nathan wanted to know about more than JD's physical well-being. When JD still didn't answer right away, Nathan took the most obvious route and pointed toward the small bandage on JD's forehead.

"Oh, this," JD exclaimed, his hand traveling lightly over the bandage next to his hair line. "Just a small cut. Didn't even need stitches," he said, brushing off the injury as more of a nuisance than anything else.

Brown eyes asked what else had been hurt.

"Just a few bruises. Nothing major, I swear," JD exclaimed, squirming under the intensity of Nathan's gaze. "Only...," the younger man stopped his movement and turned mournful, pleading eyes up to his friend. "Don't ever do anything like that again, okay?" he whispered fervently.

Blinking back his own tears at the intensity of the uncertainty and shadow of fear he saw reflected in the bright, moist eyes staring at him, Nathan squeezed JD's hand in a silent promise.

***********

Sitting up in the wheelchair, Nathan shifted slightly to ease the pressure on his side. It felt good to be upright. When the doctor had awakened him early in the morning and removed the ventilator, he thought that the day couldn't get any better. He was wrong.

Listening as the nurse pushed open the door, a broad smile erupted on Nathan's face as he heard Josiah's deep baritone voice rumbling across the room.

"I guess I'm going to have to go down there and see how he's doing this morning," Josiah sighed into the telephone receiver. Pausing to listen to the person on the other end, he snorted. "The day that happens...." He stopped when his eyes alit on the man being wheeled into the room. "Nathan!" Josiah exclaimed in joy. The murmur of a voice calling to him reminded him he was speaking on the phone. "I gotta go. They just brought him in." With that the big man summarily ended the conversation by hanging up.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Josiah ignored the pull of his stiches and grinned at his friend, drinking in the sight of him. Reaching out, he grasped the hand being held out to him tightly. "If you aren't a sight for sore eyes," Sanchez said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Josiah," Nathan whispered, his throat sore and scratchy from the ventilator, and his eyes moist with tears. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mr. Jackson?" the nurse said softly, reaching down to put the wheelchair brakes on. "How about I go get the rest of your things and you can visit a little bit before I lay you down? Would that be okay?"

Throwing her grateful smiles, Nathan and Josiah both nodded their thanks.

Silence descended in the room. After a few minutes, Josiah raised his eyes from the floor. "Buck said the guys are on their way." Seeing Nathan's acknowledging nod, he lowered his eyes back to the floor. He wished he knew how to say what he wanted to convey. He was just going to have to spit it out. Drawing in a deep breath, Josiah said, "You shouldn't of done it. It wasn't worth it."

The startled look Nathan threw at him caused Josiah to grimace. Holding up his hand to halt whatever defense Nathan was about to launch, he tried again. "I mean...," blowing out a loud breath, he faltered. "You shouldn't of risked yourself like that. I... I couldn't live knowing you'd died cause of me."

Tensing in defense, Nathan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Me?" Nathan croaked back. "What about you. If I'd gone with you on the hunting trip, then you'd never of been...."

Josiah interrupted him. "You don't know that," he said defensively. "Hell, you could've of been right beside me and it still might of happened."

"And it might not of," Nathan quickly countered back.

"Gentlemen, it is so nice to once again hear your ever supportive and understanding repartee," Ezra drawled sarcastically from the doorway. Coming into the room, followed by Vin and Chris, the southerner stopped at the foot of the bed and looked at the two injured men. "What do you say," he continued, turning nonchalantly towards Chris and Vin. "Shall we cancel the helicopter and leave them here while we go home tomorrow?"

Nodding, Vin fought the smile that was trying to erupt on his face in response to the outraged stares being thrown at Ezra. "Seems like a good idea, seein' as how they're so hell bent on blamin' everything on themselves anyway. Guess they can kill a couple more days chewin' on whose fault it is that they got left behind. After that, who knows, they might even be feelin' up to figuring out how they're getting back to Denver."

Blue eyes turned toward his partner as Josiah said, "I think they are making fun of us."

Nodding, Nathan glared at the others and rasped, "Their day is coming."

Chuckling at the underlying threat in the ex-medic's words, Chris stepped forward. "Seeing as we are going to abandon them, Josiah might appreciate knowing we're taking his stuff with us."

Pulling out the gun and holster from the back of his waistband, Vin laid it into one of Josiah's hands. Stepping back, he made room for Ezra to do the same with the agent's badge.

Resting the holstered gun on his leg, Josiah traced the letters on the face of the metal badge with his fingertips. He remembered that they had said that Clayborne had taken it, but he hadn't remembered the actual act of it until this moment. Laying it back down, he pulled the gun out and held up the holster to look inside of it as if to verify that it was the correct one.

A faint, bittersweet smile appeared on the big man's face. Clayborne had tried to take everything that meant anything to him: his gun, his badge, his life, and worst of all, his friend. Looking up, he saw the understanding in Nathan's eyes.

Clearing his throat, Josiah put the gun back into the holster and glanced at the men in the room. "Did you find my wallet?" he asked to cover his discomfort. Seeing Chris' nod, he raised expectant eyes toward his boss.

"I gave it to Buck. Told him and JD to bring breakfast with 'em."

Rolling his eyes, Nathan feigned outrage on Josiah's behalf. "You what? He'll be lucky if he's got two cents left to his name after they get done."

"Now that ain't a nice thing to say," Buck said, overhearing the comment as he and JD arrived in the room. Setting down the bags in his hands, Wilmington tossed Josiah's wallet to him. "Left ya a buck or two in there," he quipped, winking at Chris as he turned away.

"Doesn't matter. I've got all I need right here," Josiah said, smiling as he lifted his eyes from the wallet in his hands to look at the friends surrounding him.

the end