The Strands of a Rope

By: Lady Angel

The Ancients believed that every being in the world has a soulmate. One being with whom there exists a spiritual connection that will last for all eternity. Male or female, these soulmates fulfil each other's lives with family, friendship, and love. The Ancients held that soulmates were connected by a silver cord, which could be seen emanating from one soul to another, connecting their hearts and souls. Sometimes, for a special few, there is more than one soulmate, more than one being that is needed to fulfil their lives. And in these instances, the silver cords would interweave themselves into a rope, stronger as a whole, than separate.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it. I'm afraid that due to his injuries. . ."

The doctor stood there, looking at the six men in front of him. Each had a look of absolute horror and unending grief on their very different faces. God, sometimes I hate my job.

It wasn't however until the young man had screamed at him did the doctor realize how deeply these men would grieve. It wasn't until after he called for a gurney to take the young man to an examination room after he had passed out that the doctor realized that with the death of one man, six more had been destroyed.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it. I'm afraid that due to his injuries. . ."

"No, you're lyin', he's not dead."

"I'm sorry sir, but his injuries. . ."

"HE'S NOT DEAD DAMNIT!!! HE'S NOT!!!"

Vin clamped his hands to his ears, unwilling to hear that damn quack's voice. He's not dead! I couldn't live without him, he promised me that he wouldn't leave, and no matter what, he always kept his promises.

Kept? Why am I thinking in the past tense? Oh yeah because he's dead, that's why. Without warning Vin started to giggle, soon it erupted into hysterical laughter.

"Vin? Vin, stop that! Vin, you're scaring JD. Stop it damnit!!!"

Gee, Buck sure does sound pissed. It was Vin's last thought, right before the blessed blackness consumed him.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it. I'm afraid that due to his injuries. . ."

With those first six words, his world crumbled. His life of friends, family, safety, and love was shattered. The very foundation of their family had been ripped from their arms. Ripped not by a bullet, taken in the line of duty, but by some shithead who had a little too much to drink.

JD watched through tear filled eyes as Vin screamed at the doctor, he could feel Buck's arm around his shoulders, whispering assurances in his ear, but Buck's promises that everything would be alright were lies. Nothing would be all right ever again.

When Vin started to laugh, JD flinched at the sound and then started to tremble. He vaguely heard Buck yelling at Vin to stop, that Vin's laughing was scaring JD. No, the emptiness inside of my heart is scaring me. . . not Vin.

JD stood there watching the scene before him. He saw Vin's knees give out from under him, saw Josiah gently lift Vin into his arms and place him on the gurney. The young man saw Buck struggle to be strong. But inside, JD felt nothing at all.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it. I'm afraid that due to his injuries. . ."

Twelve years. . .twelve long, shitty as hell, fun filled years, and it ends like this. I can't believe it. Not like this. Damn it, we were supposed to grow old together, watch our grandkids run around in the yard. Watch JD finally pop the question to pretty little Casey...damn, the Kid. What am I suppose to tell the Kid.

Buck wrapped his arms around JD, trying to stop the young man from shaking too hard, to let him know that he wasn't alone this time. Buck could feel JD's tears, they soaked the front of his shirt, but Buck was beyond caring about that, he could only bury his face in the kid's black hair and hold him tighter. At the same time he tried not to cry himself, because if he did let the tears start, they would never stop.

Buck looked over at Vin, being rolled away from the waiting room and into a curtained off area. Ezra followed, while Josiah and Nathan just sat down in some chairs, both silent in their grief.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it. I'm afraid that due to his injuries. . ."

Well, I knew it was all too good to be true. I knew that something would happen to take everything I need away. Malicious fate has once again deemed that I be totally, royally screwed. Of course, this time she didn't just screw me over, nooo. She still wasn't happy, nooo, the damn harpy had to take down the others as well. Bitch.

Ezra watched as a nurse took Vin's vitals, proclaiming that he was physically fine.

Well, duh! As JD so eloquently said so often before. Now, if only you could tell me that he would be fine mentally and spiritually, then I'll be happy. But you can't tell me that, can you? No, he won't ever be fine again, he would never play another practical joke again, he would never play some god-awful tune on his harmonica again. No, he won't ever be fine, and. . .NEITHER. . .WILL. . .I!

Ezra wanted to scream, he wanted to vocally vent his hurt, his anger, his grief. But he couldn't...Mother would be horrified at such a public display of temper. Manners that were deeply imbedded his genetic makeup kept him from erupting and a part of him was glad, because if he did explode, there was no telling if he would ever stop. So Ezra had to settle for stroking Vin's hair, waiting for him to awaken, to be here for him. Because in some way, being here with Vin, taking care of him, held the ugly reality at bay, at least for a little while.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it. I'm afraid that due to his injuries. . ."

Good Lord, why? Why did you take him from us? We need him so much. I know, Lord, that in your magnificence, you know this too. And please Lord, forgive your humble servant for questioning your actions, but why? Why did you take our brother from us?

Josiah really didn't expect an answer to his prayer, but he felt the need to at least ask. They had been shaken by the news. . .a drunk driver. . .multiple car pile up. . .four dead at the scene. . .an ATF agent in critical condition.

Now, Vin laid in a hospital bed, his strength sapped by their loss; Ezra hadn't said a word; JD was crying; Buck was in shock, unable to console the child; Nathan's silent tears spoke more eloquently than Ezra's fanciest speech, and Josiah, himself, was once again questioning his God and his faith.

Josiah couldn't find the words to lift their spirits, couldn't even find the energy to lift his head. But he knew that there were two other people who needed to know about this night's death. Giving Nathan's shoulder a squeeze, Josiah stood and pulled out his cell phone.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it. I'm afraid that due to his injuries. . ."

The healer sat there, unable to stop the flow of tears. One of the few men he respected was dead, taken before his time. Nathan was at a loss. . .normally, by this time he would be explaining the medical jargon to the others, telling them in English what the extent of the injuries were, but now, there was nothing to explain. Nothing to translate, nothing to expect, nothing to assure them and himself that the Seven would ride again.

Nothing this time but the death of one of their own.

Damnit, I'm was medic in the war, I've seen people die before. . .Rain's father, my mother, my father, why is his death so different?

He felt useless, for all his medical training, for all his life experiences, he was helpless to ease the others' pain. Not even Josiah, with all his wisdom, could offer a word of solace to their team members.

Nathan didn't even lift his head when Josiah left, he knew who Josiah was going to call. Another life was about to be destroyed because of one fool's reckless actions.

He could feel the hand stroking his hair, Damn, did I get myself shot again? Vin did a quick inventory. Nope, nothing hurts, then why was he stroking my hair? Chris only does that when I've been hurt. . .Oh God. . .

"CHRISSSS!"

"Shhh, Vin!"

"Ezra! Ezra, where's Chris?" Vin sat up, grabbing the Southerner by the lapels. Vin's wild blue eyes met Ezra's sad green ones and then he knew. He knew that it hadn't been a nightmare, that it was real.

Chris was dead.

Ezra never felt more helpless, never more grief-stricken, than when Vin had grabbed onto his shirt and cried. All Ezra could do was wrap his arms around the younger man's shoulders and rock back and forth, tears trickling down his own cheeks.

Part 2

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