Vin lay on the lounge on Chris’s porch and gazed out into the distance, soaking in the day’s peace and letting it take root in himself. Once this had been second nature to him, this sinking into the rhythm of the world around him and fitting himself to its feel and pace. But, like so much else, this had been lost over the long, hellish weeks that had stretched into a lifetime. He’d been teetering on too many edges for too long, had spent too long staring in terror down into the vast, black chasm waiting to swallow him should he lose his footing and fall. Had been so consumed with just trying to hold on that he’d completely forgotten what he was trying to hold on to. It was time he got that back. Time he got himself back.

He felt like a man starved too long for oxygen and only just now remembering how to breathe again.

At the same time, strangely enough, he was almost afraid of taking that first, free breath, afraid of what all he might breathe in with it. Almost from the moment he’d woken up the first time in the hospital he’d been fighting a desperate battle with himself, struggling frantically to hold himself together, to keep locked within himself all the broken pieces that seemed intent on spilling out, on holding shut a door that, despite his best efforts, had shattered and flown open anyway. He hadn’t been able to control what had come tumbling through it, had been horrified to see all the worst parts of his life spilling out in a river of poison and blood. For so much of his life, that precious control had been all that had allowed him to survive. To have lost it so completely now scared him to death. If he couldn’t control himself, how could he possibly hope to control anything else around him?

If he couldn’t control his world, how could he possibly hope to keep it from hurting him again?

He groaned softly and closed his eyes, almost wishing now that he’d taken the pain pills Nathan had urged upon him. The locals on his hand and lip had long since worn off, and his hand was throbbing mercilessly. He was tired, too, still drained from this morning’s ordeal – hell, from this whole ordeal – and the pills would surely have allowed him to to rest. To sleep. To escape his pain …

Except that he knew now as he never had before that there was no true escape. The pills might help the pain now, might help him sleep now, but he’d have to wake up some time, and the pain would be there waiting for him when he did.

Just like all the pain from the Tascosa Boys’ Home had been there waiting for him when he’d awakened in that hospital. There just wasn’t a pill in the world big enough or strong enough to take away all that.

Josiah stood in the open doorway and stared at the young man on the lounge, reading every emotion that chased across that thin, pale face and feeling a deep twinge of regret. Vin Tanner had once been the most self-contained man he’d ever known, holding himself and all he thought, all he felt, under tight rein until he was ready to share some aspect of it. Now, though, it was as if he’d been turned inside out, with his whole heart and soul and every wound he bore upon both laid wide open for all the world to see. Josiah knew that vulnerability would frighten Vin as few other things could. He just hoped he, all of them, could help the man understand that seeing the wounds was the first step toward healing them.

He slid the glass door silently shut, then wrenched it open again with an intentional loudness, determined to alert Vin to his presence. They were all learning new ways of dealing with their friend’s unsteady, fragile state, and he was realist enough to know that more hard lessons lay in store before they could relax their caution.

And they were all determined to learn every single one of them.

“Nice day,” he greeted, walking over to the chair on the other side of the small table from Vin and sinking down into it. “Bright sunshine, a warm breath of wind.” He nodded once. “God is surely smilin’ down on us from heaven.”

“’Bout time,” Vin breathed, opening his eyes to gaze once more out into the yard. “Feel like I’ve been locked in a cold, dark place fer as long as I can recall. Wasn’t sure I’d ever see the sun again.”

“I’m sorry, Vin,” Josiah said softly, fixing sad and gentle eyes upon his friend. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that then, sorry you’re havin’ to go through it all again now. I wish to God I could take some of it from you. We all do.”

Vin turned his head and met that gaze with his own. “I know that. Didn’t at first, but I do now. An’ I reckon that’s all that’s been keepin’ me goin’ here lately.”

Josiah frowned thoughtfully and shook his head, crossing one leg over the other. “I’m not so sure,” he mused. “Oh, I know that’s part of it, but I don’t think that’s all of it. Life and sanity are strange things, Vin. No matter how much we might want to keep someone we love anchored in both, those aren’t our battles to win. If you weren’t in it fighting right alongside us, then no matter how hard we fought to keep you, you’d still slip away.” He tilted his graying head slightly to one side, eyeing the younger man shrewdly. “I think you’ve been doin’ a helluva job of keepin’ yourself goin’ through all this.”

Vin gave a wan smile and ducked his head, even now startled by the belief these men had in him. He had no idea what he’d done to earn it, but knew he’d do anything he could to keep it. Including learning how to breathe again.

He licked his lips, then slowly lifted his head and fixed his wide, dark blue gaze on the profiler’s blunt-featured face. “Can … can I … talk to ya about somethin’, Josiah?” he asked softly, fearfully.

Sanchez nodded slowly and returned that uncertain gaze solemnly. “You can talk to me about anything, Vin. I don’t promise to have any great wisdom, any great answers, but I can promise that I will listen, and that if nothing else, we can seek the wisdom and answers together.”

Vin heard the absolute truth in those words; more to the point, he felt that truth in his soul. Tears stung his eyes and slid slowly down his cheeks, but he let them fall, knowing it was all right to do so here, in the deep, safe shelter that was Josiah Sanchez. “I’m scared,” he whispered, his voice a broken rasp. “I know I need help, I know I cain’t do this, cain’t get better, without it. But … jist the same … I’m scared. I cain’t help but wonder … what all else is layin’ there, waitin’ fer somebody ta dig it up.”

Josiah exhaled deeply and nodded slowly, his face creasing into a deep, thoughtful frown. “That is the question,” he breathed in his deep, rich voice. “And it is a question all of us face on a daily basis, Vin. Who am I? What am I? What’s inside me and how will I survive if it ever gets out? How will I ever make peace with myself if it doesn’t? You’re right to be scared,” he said quietly, “because the man who looks into his own soul without trepidation and trembling is a fool. And you’re a lot of things, Vin Tanner, but you’ve never been a fool.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vin sighed, relaxing back against the lounge and letting his gaze again wander out over the yard. “Feel like a fool fer the things I done ta y’all.”

Josiah shrugged his thick shoulders. “And we’ve forgiven you,” he said easily. “Maybe it’s time you forgave yourself. That’s always the first step down any path of healing, Vin. You have to look honestly at the things you’ve done, accept them as yours, and then let them go. None of us is without our mistakes and regrets. The trick in life is not to let ourselves be crippled by them.”

Vin considered that a moment, then frowned and sat up slowly. Easing his left leg, immobilized by the brace, off the lounge, he turned toward Josiah, his face a thoughtful mask. “That’s what I done by coverin’ up all that stuff back in the home, wasn’t it?” he asked softly, leaning forward and folding his arms on the table. “I reckon I thought I’s doin’ it ta protect myself, but I only wound up cripplin’ myself instead. Settin’ myself up fer all this. Mebbe if I’d accepted it all back then, made my peace with it–”

“You were a boy, Vin, a child,” Josiah said gently, leaning on the table to meet that troubled blue gaze. “You were a boy thrust into an impossible, hellish situation with no one but yourself to depend on. Yes, maybe if someone had taken the time, truly taken the time to help you instead of just going through the official motions, then everything might have been different. Probably would’ve been. But you didn’t have that.” Anger simmered in his voice and eyes. “What you had was a long line of people, one right after the other, who looked away at the wrong time, who dropped all the wrong balls, who dropped you and never bent to pick you up. Faced with that, you did the only thing you knew how to do and survived. You did the best you could with what you were given. And, given the fact that you were given nothing, I’d say you did a helluva job of turning yoursef into the man I’ve always been proud to call a friend.”

Vin’s eyes widened at that and a startled gasp escaped him. Again he heard and felt the utter truth in the older man’s words, and again it touched sharply upon his shattered nerves, bringing hot tears to his eyes. “How come,” he whispered roughly, the tears again sliding down his cheeks, “how come … when it seems all I done in my life is fuck up … I ended up with y’all? How’d I manage ta get that right … when I done got ever’thing else so wrong?”

Josiah rose slowly from his chair and walked around the table to the lounge. Settling himself down upon it, he reached out and gathered Vin into his arms, holding the young man’s frail and shaking body close against his own sturdy frame. “You didn’t get it wrong, Vin,” he said softly, sadly, resting a cheek upon the younger man’s bowed head and closing his eyes. “Everybody else did, but not you. And maybe, just maybe, God in His infinite wisdom thought it was high time that He put folks into your life who would finally make all those wrongs right.”

Vin clung to Josiah and huddled in his arms, deeply comforted and calmed by the older man’s strength. Once it would have worried him, even frightened him, to realize that he needed this so, to know that he’d become incapable of standing on his own. Lately, though, he’d come to realize that he did need this, that all the worst mistakes of his life had happened when he’d been alone. Because he’d been alone.

“I want things ta be right again,” he rasped unsteadily, never raising his head from Josiah’s chest. “I want me ta be right again. I wanta stop bein’ afraid of ever’thing around me, includin’ me.”

“Therapy can help make that happen,” Josiah said. “A good therapist can help you take all the broken pieces of your life and fit them into an order that allows you make sense of them.”

“Won’t cure me, though, will it?”

Josiah sighed and winced. “There are no cures for life, Vin,” he said, “or for the things that happen to us in life. You can’t be ‘cured’ of having shot a man to death to make him stop beating you. You can’t be ‘cured’ of having been beaten. All the best therapy in the world won’t take those things away or make it so they never happened. All it can do is help you accept them, make your peace with them and move on.”

“I don’t wanta be drugged again–”

“That won’t happen,” Josiah vowed firmly.

Vin nodded, then pulled slowly, reluctantly away from Sanchez. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, then ran a hand over his wet face. “Be glad when I quit fallin’ apart like this,” he breathed.

Josiah smiled gently at him. “That’s what friends are for, son, to give you a place where it’s safe to fall apart. And to make sure you have help pickin’ up the pieces and puttin’ ’em back together.”

Vin gazed tiredly at the older man. “You really think they ever will fit back together?” he asked softly, fearfully.

Josiah nodded and reached out, gently wiping a stray tear from his friend’s face. “I’d lay money on it, Vin,” he breathed. “And fit better than they ever have before. We’ll help see to that.”

Vin knotted his hands together in his lap and stared down at them. “So … what do I do now? How … how do I go about findin’ a therapist?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about that,” Josiah said quietly. He arched a gray brow. “Do you trust me?”

Vin’s head came up sharply at that and his wide gaze flew to Sanchez’s face. “’Course I do! Hell, after all y’all done fer me, I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t!”

Josiah smiled at that fervent declaration. Not all the lessons learned from this had been hard ones. “All right, then maybe I can help. I have a friend. We went to grad school together. This is her field. She’s dedicated her whole life to helping people through problems just like yours. And there are others who’ve been through this, Vin,” he said firmly. “You’re not the only one, you’re not alone. Others have been through it and they’ve survived. You can, too.”

“I know that,” he said softly, bowing his head and staring once more at his hands. “I do. Or at least I kinda know it. I mean, I wasn’t the only one gettin’ beat on back then, an’ I ain’t stupid enough ta believe we’s the only ones it ever happened to. And I know … I know I ain’t the only one … who ever had ta kill somebody ta make it stop. I’ve seen them stories in the news. I know I ain’t the only one.”

“But?” Josiah prompted quietly.

Vin shrugged slightly. “Jist ’cause yer brain knows somethin’ don’t mean yer heart does,” he sighed. “And as much as ya might wanta ask them others how they dealt with it, ya don’t want nobody knowin’ why ya wanta know. It’s jist … too …” He shrugged again and shook his head.

“Shameful?” Josiah supplied gently. When Vin winced and nodded, Josiah reached out and laid a big hand on his thin shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s not shameful, Vin,” he said. “It’s sad, hell, it’s tragic, but it’s not shameful. Not on your part, anyway. The only ones who have any cause to feel ashamed are those who did it and those who let it happen. You were the victim. You didn’t cause it, you didn’t deserve it, and you have no reason to feel ashamed. Do you understand?”

“I’m tryin’,” he sighed. “But it’s jist …” He raised his head slowly, his face pale but composed. “It’s hard, y’know?” he asked, wondering how he could ever make these men understand. “Fer three solid years they told me I was worthless, stupid, clumsy … When ya hear that nearly ever’ day of yer life fer so long, ya jist come ta believe it. Then they tell ya not ta tell anybody what’s goin’ on ’cause won’t nobody believe ya. Or if they do, they’ll know you was ta blame an’ had it comin’. Won’t nobody come ta help ya, ’cause ya jist ain’t worth helpin’. Y’ ain’t worth savin’.”

“You still believe that?”

Vin thought a moment, then drew a deep breath and locked his gaze on Josiah’s. “No, I don’t,” he said softly but with absolute conviction. “Mebbe I did once … Hell,” he sighed, “I know I did. But not anymore.” He smiled slightly. “I’ve had too many folks climb out on too many limbs tryin’ ta save me ta believe that anymore. If I wasn’t worth savin’, y’all wouldn’ta put in so much time an’ effort tryin’ ta do it. So I reckon there’s gotta be somethin’ there. An’ mebbe with time an’ some help, I’ll figger out exactly what it is. ’Cause I’d kinda like ta know.”

Josiah smiled and patted Vin’s knee. “Trust me, son, there’s a lot there. And we’ll do all we can to help you see it, too.”

Vin nodded. “I’d appreciate that.” He studied the profiler a moment longer, then asked hesitantly, “You gonna call this friend a’ yers or do I need to?”

“Would you like me to?”

Vin winced and ducked his head again. “Does it make me a coward if I say yeah?” he whispered, ashamed of his weakness.

Josiah chuckled and again patted his knee. “I’d say it makes you human. I’ll call her this evening.”

Vin gasped and looked up sharply as dismay stabbed into him. “That’s kinda sudden, ain’t it?” he rasped in alarm.

Josiah shrugged. “If you’re determined to do this, it’s best to get started as soon as possible,” he advised. “What’s the point of putting it off?”

Vin gripped the table and levered himself to his feet, then limped to the porch railing. He could feel Josiah coming up behind him, but didn’t turn to face him. Was too ashamed. “Reckon I am a coward after all,” he breathed.

“Why? Because you’re afraid of the unknown?” Josiah asked softly, hurting for his friend and for the hard choices he had to make. Choices he should never have been forced to make. “Because you’re afraid of facing a past that’s done nothing but torture you your whole life? Because you’re afraid of what else you might unearth?” He shook his head slowly, then reached out to lay big hands on Vin’s bowed shoulders. “Like I said before, son, you’re just human.”

“What if I don’t ever get any better?” he rasped, voicing the fear that haunted him.

Josiah gently squeezed Vin’s shoulders. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

He stared out over the yard, his terror almost more than he could bear. Almost. But as much as he feared what might happen if he did this, he feared even more what would happen if he didn’t. “You really think … your friend can help me?” he whispered.

“I think that if anyone can, it’s Lynn,” Josiah said. “Like I said, helping people like you has been her whole life’s work. She’s very good at what she does. And she truly cares about the people she sees.”

Vin unconsciously leaned back into Josiah’s hands, using the man’s strength to brace himself. “I wish I didn’t have ta do this!” he breathed unsteadily. “I wish I could jist close my eyes an’ make it all go away–”

“You tried that before and it didn’t work,” Josiah reminded him gently. “It’s what brought you to this point now.”

“I know that,” he whispered. “But that don’t make it any easier.”

Josiah said nothing, merely continued to rub Vin’s shoulders soothingly.

And Vin was deeply grateful for that touch, for the friendship and support inherent in it. This was something else he would never have imagined he’d come to like, this kind of close, even intimate, physical contact. Yet now he couldn’t imagine himself surviving without it.

“Call her,” he said softly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans to conceal their trembling. “Call yer friend. Let’s get this started.”

Relief and elation swept through Josiah in a powerful wave but he clamped down hard upon any reaction, not wanting to startle Vin. “You sure about this?”

Vin bowed his head and closed his eyes, but nodded. “I’m sure,” he whispered, praying that Sanchez wouldn’t hear the near-panic in his voice.

But Josiah did. Even more, he felt it in the fine tremors racing through Tanner’s thin frame. Without hesitation, he turned Vin around and took him in his arms, holding tightly to him. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered against the younger man’s bowed head. “I swear to you, Vin, we’ll get through this. All of us together.” He cradled Vin’s head in his hands and pushed it back, smiling slightly into dark, fearful eyes. “You’ve taken the first step.” Then, as he had so often with his own sister, he pressed a tender kiss to the younger man’s forehead. “May all the angels guide and guard you on your journey,” he whispered in benediction.

Vin said nothing, merely collapsed once more against the bigger man and buried his face in that broad chest, clinging to Josiah for dear life.

7~7~7~7

Chris stood behind the glass door and watched the two men on the porch, fighting against his urge to go out and join them. But some instinct held him back, some unconscious realization that, this time at least, he wasn’t the one best suited to help Vin. He half expected to feel some sense of disappointment at that, maybe even a twinge of jealousy, and was surprised when he felt neither.

Maybe he’d finally realized that he didn’t have to do this alone, either.

He turned away from the door, and was startled to see Buck standing by the sofa, watching him with a slight smile on his face. “You need somethin’?” he asked a bit more sharply than he’d intended.

But Buck only chuckled quietly and shook his head. “Just wonderin’ how long it was gonna take you ta go chargin’ out there,” he said. He walked around to the front of the sofa and dropped down onto it, then lifted his long legs and propped them on the coffee table, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Glad I didn’t have any money ridin’ on it, though I never woulda thought that would be a losin’ bet.”

Chris scowled at his old friend and went to his recliner, sinking into it with an ill-disguised feeling of relief. God, the day wasn’t even half over, and already he was exhausted. “You sayin’ I like to interfere?” he asked defensively.

“Nope,” Buck answered easily. “I’m just sayin’ that where Vin’s concerned right now, you got a protective streak a mile wide and five miles long. I know he needs that, but it’s nice ta see you finally learnin’ ta share the load. It’s gonna make it a helluva lot easier on you, and it’ll be good for Vin. He needs ta know there’s more than just you holdin’ him up and watchin’ his back. And it’s good for us.” Dark blue eyes snagged and held Larabee’s green ones. “We need ta be a part of this, Chris,” he said quietly. “Vin belongs ta us, too.”

Chris winced at that and bowed his head, stung by guilt. They’d fought this battle in the hospital, and he’d thought he’d come to grips with it then. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t know … I didn’t mean to cut you boys out. I just–”

“Oh, hell, pard, I know that,” Buck said quietly. “You just got a blind spot when it comes ta Vin. I’ve got the same one when it comes ta JD. We see ’em hurtin’ and our first thought – hell, our only thought – is ta rush right in and make it better.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “And sometimes that’s the right thing ta do. Sometimes it’s exactly what they need. Vin closes up if a lotta folks rush him, and JD gets flustered, feels like everybody’s lookin’ down at him. So sometimes we are the only ones they need.”

“But not this time,” Chris mused.

Buck shrugged again, then dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward on the couch, setting his forearms across his thighs. “No, Chris, not this time,” he said softly. “Vin needs more than you alone can give him. You try, an’ you’ll wear yourself out. And then where’ll he be? More than that, we need ta be right in there with you, we need ta do whatever we can ta help him. We damn near lost him, too. Now we wanta do whatever we can ta help get him back. And it’s gonna take all of us to do it.”

“A team,” Chris murmured.

“Oh, hell, no!” Buck answered sharply, startling Larabee. He sat up abruptly and shook his head vehemently. “Shit, pard, in case you ain’t noticed, we stopped bein’ a team long ago and turned into a family! Teams pull together for the good of the whole. Families pull together for the good of the one. And usually the weakest one at that.”

Chris had to smile at Buck’s insight. “I guess I musta missed that memo,” he joked ruefully.

“Nah.” Buck winked. “We had Ezra write it up. You probably just didn’t understand it.”

7~7~7~7

Still holding Vin, Josiah felt the younger man shiver and frowned down at him in concern. “You cold, son?”

Vin pulled away reluctantly and smiled sheepishly up at Sanchez. “Some, I reckon,” he admitted softly. He wore a sweatshirt and a flannel shirt over that, but still felt the chill in the early autumn air. “I know it ain’t really cold, but Doc Stone an’ Nathan say my body’s still all outta whack.” He shivered again, then thrust his hands deeply into his jeans pockets and dropped his gaze, wincing slightly. “Be glad when I get ta feelin’ close ta normal again.”

Josiah eyed him sympathetically and set a big but gentle hand on his shoulder. “Have ta give yourself time, Vin,” he counseled quietly. “Your body’s been through a terrible ordeal and you can’t expect to bounce back all at once. And what your mind’s goin’ through certainly isn’t helping.” He smiled and squeezed the smaller man’s shoulder lightly. “Maybe we should go on inside. If I let you catch a chill, Nathan’ll have my hide for a rug.”

Vin chuckled at that and lifted his gaze back to Josiah’s. “He does get a mite touchy about such things, don’t he?”

“Touchy?” Two gray brows rose sharply. “You do have a talent for understatement!” He slipped his arm around Vin’s shoulders and shephered him toward the glass door. “Brother Nathan is ‘touchy’ when we’re all well and whole. When even one of us isn’t,” he grinned and winked, “he gets downright mean.”

Vin laughed again as he slid open the door and stepped into the den. At the sound, both Chris and Buck looked at him, smiles stretching across their own faces.

“Now, there’s somethin’ we ain’t heard nearly enough of lately!” Buck boomed joyously. He slid to one end of the couch and patted the cushion at his side. “Come on over an’ take a load off, Junior. Get off that bad knee before Nathan, Nettie an’ Larabee have a collective fit.”

“Hell,” Vin groused as he limped toward the sofa, “Nathan’s the one been tellin’ me I need ta keep workin’ the damn fool thing. Don’t see how he can torture me one minute with that physical therapy an’ then growl the next when all’s I do is walk around a bit.”

“Maybe if you wore the brace while walkin’ around he’d stop growlin’,” Chris suggested as he watched Vin ease himself stiffly down onto the sofa. He couldn’t help seeing his friend’s grimace of pain as various unhealed muscles and bones protested the movement and heaved a long, resigned sigh. “Get your leg up, and when’s the last time you took a pain pill?”

Vin arched a brow at him. “Well, good afternoon ta you, too,” he shot back. Nonetheless, he lifted his left leg onto the table and sank back against the sofa with an audible sigh of relief. “Hell, I feel nearly as old as Larabee over there,” he rasped, completely ignoring the fact that Josiah was older than Chris by at least a decade.

Chris narrowed his eyes and scowled deeply at Vin while Buck and Josiah snickered loudly. Inwardly, though, he was relieved by that flash of humor. He’d been worried when he’d seen Vin clinging so tightly to Josiah out on the porch, had feared that yet another upset had rocked the man’s fragile composure. But whatever it had been appeared to be over now, and he allowed himself to relax.

“Next time I form a team,” he growled, sitting back in his chair and sweeping his disapproving gaze over his three less-than-intimidated agents, “I’m gonna make sure there are a lot fewer smart-asses on it.”

“Now, Chris,” Buck put in placatingly, “you know you ain’t gonna fire us.” When Larabee leveled a disbelieving stare at him, he shrugged and explained, “Hell, won’t nobody else hire us, which means we’ll all be unemployed.” He smiled brightly at Chris’s obvious confusion. “If we ain’t got jobs, then we won’t have nothin’ ta do or no place ta go.” He shrugged. “Means we’d be spendin’ all our time over here, drinkin’ your beer an’ watchin’ your TV.”

“Oh, God!” Chris groaned sickly, closing his eyes and letting his head fall forward. “Somebody please shoot me now!”

“Cain’t,” Vin said. “Ya done locked up all yer guns.”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” Larabee sighed dejectedly.

Buck smirked at his old friend, then switched his gaze to Josiah, who still stood. “Why’n’t you have a seat, preacherman? Take a load off yer feet.”

But Josiah shook his head slightly. “Not just yet. I’ve got something to do first.” He cast a questioning gaze at Vin. “If you still want me to,” he added softly.

Vin lifted wide eyes to Sanchez and swallowed hard against the uncertainty, the fear, that again welled up sharply within him. He was sorely tempted to say no, to ask Sanchez to wait, to plead for time until he was stronger. Except that he knew this was what it would take to make him stronger. And he was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of trying to beat back the demons on his own. He swallowed again, licked suddenly dry lips nervously, and gave a small nod.

“G’ on,” he rasped, his soft voice cracking. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, suddenly chilled to the bone. “Reckon I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Chris and Buck looked on in confusion and worry, but Josiah smiled and crossed the den to the sofa. Stepping between Vin and the coffee table, he leaned over and laid a big, gentle hand against the smaller man’s pale, cool cheek. “You are a strong, courageous soul, Vin Tanner,” he breathed softly, his voice warm and deep. “And I am proud to know you.” He stroked Vin’s cheek with a thumb, then removed his hand and walked away.

Vin exhaled unsteadily and bowed his head, closing his eyes against the hot sting of tears and tightening his arms about himself.

Puzzled and anxious, Buck moved closer immediately and circled a strong arm about the huddled man, pulling Vin close against his own big body. “You okay, Junior?” he asked worriedly.

Vin nodded but didn’t answer at once, couldn’t speak past the hard knot in his throat. A single tear slid down his cheek and he ducked his head lower still.

Chris saw the tear and was out of his chair in a single motion, hurrying to the sofa and sinking onto it at Vin’s other side. Without a word, he slipped his left arm about the bowed shoulders, joining his warmth and strength to Buck’s.

Bracketed between the two men, held and supported and sheltered by them, Vin slowly loosened his hold upon himself, knowing the task of keeping himself together was no longer his alone. More tears fell, but gradually his shaking subsided and the chill that had taken root in his bones was eased and finally vanquished by the warmth poured into him by these men and the friendship, the love, that had taken root in his soul.

After long moments he slowly raised his head, then lifted a pale but remarkably steady hand to wipe away his tears. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, then glanced at Buck and gave him a small smile. “I’m better now, Bucklin,” he breathed. “Thanks.”

Buck smiled gently and squeezed Vin’s shoulders firmly. “That’s what we’re here for, pard.”

Vin nodded. “Reckon I’m finally learnin’ that.” Then, feeling the warmth and strength, and worry, of the man at his other side, he turned to Chris and gazed deeply into the green eyes that had seen so much of the worst of him but had never yet looked away. He still wasn’t sure just where such faith in him sprang from, but he was determined to do all he could not to disappoint it. “Josiah’s callin’ a friend of his,” he said softly. “She’s a therapist. He’s gonna talk to her about seein’ me.” He swallowed again and nodded almost fiercely. “It’s time ta get this show on the road!”

“Oh, thank God!” Chris gasped as relief erupted through him. Instinctively he pulled Vin to him in a hard embrace, now convinced as he’d never been before that his friend truly was headed down the path of healing. “You’re doin’ the right thing,” he said hoarsely.

Buck felt that same exhilaration within himself and cast wet eyes heavenward, uttering a silent but fervent prayer of thanks. Then, turning to his friends, he leaned into them and wrapped his arms tightly about them both, bowing his head over Vin’s. “You know we’re gonna be right with you ever’ step of the way, don’tcha?” he asked in a broken rasp.

“I know,” Vin whispered tightly. “You fellas are the surest things I’ve ever known in all my life. Hell, I wouldn’t be here now if ya weren’t.” He reluctantly pushed away from Chris and sat up straight, then gave a solemn look to each of the two men who let him go, but never let go of him. “There still ain’t much I remember real clear from when Castro had me,” he said softly, “but I do remember this. I knew y’all’d come fer me. I didn’t know when or how, wasn’t even real sure I’d live ta see it, but I knew like I’ve never known anything else in my life that y’all’d come. Ya weren’t gonna let that bastard have me, an’ I know y’all ain’t gonna let that bastard from the home have me, either.” He looked at Chris. “Outside, Josiah told me that too many folks in my life have dropped me.” Light shone in his faded blue eyes and peace settled over his features. “Y’all ain’t ever once been among ’em.”

Chris smiled and lifted his hand from Vin’s shoulder to cup it firmly around the back of his neck. “And we’re not ever going to, either,” he vowed in a low voice throbbing with conviction. “We don’t let go of our own.”

Vin leaned into that grip and felt Buck’s arm tighten about him as well. He was utterly exhausted, utterly drained, yet, strangely enough, felt stronger than he had in some time. Maybe in his lifetime. He smiled tiredly. “I spent a lotta time wonderin’ why y’all didn’t jist cut me loose, let me go under an’ be done with me.” He closed his eyes and let the feel of these men’s untiring holds sink deep into him. “Cain’t imagine now why I ever thought that was gonna happen.”

“Hell, I can’t either,” Buck said.

Vin opened his eyes and looked up at the bigger man. “Woulda been easier.”

Buck snorted and shook his head. “And when’s the last time any of us did anything the easy way?” He winked. “I mean, hell, we all went ta work fer Larabee, didn’t we?”

Chris leaned around Vin to stare at Buck. “I could always arrange a transfer. I hear there’s an openin’ up in Anchorage.”

“You do that, ol’ son,” Buck retorted with a smirk, “an’ that’ll leave you ta raise JD on yer own.”

“Hey!” yelped a young voice from the doorway betwee the den and dining room. “I’m already grown!”

Buck turned to stare at the young man striding angrily toward them and sighed heavily. “Damn, I was hopin’ we’d get at least another inch or two outta ya.”

JD scowled at his roommate as he flopped down into Chris’s recliner. “Ain’t you the one that’s always sayin’ size doesn’t matter?”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed soberly. “But I just say it to make you feel better.”

“A lot you know,” JD huffed. “For your information, Casey–”

“Better not know a thing in the world about it!” Buck interrupted sternly. “And you best remember that her aunt’s in this house right now, and if that ol’ woman gets you, won’t nobody find yer body!”

JD swallowed hard at that thought, his eyes widening and his face paling. He switched his gaze abruptly to Vin, who knew the old woman better than any of them. “You … you don’t think … Would she? Really?”

“In a red-hot minute,” he drawled. “An’ if she didn’t,” he narrowed his eyes slightly and gave a thin smile, “I would.”

JD swallowed yet again and shuddered at the sharpshooter’s soft words, but, behind the Texan’s back, Chris and Buck exchanged triumphant smiles.

For a few moments at least, the old Vin Tanner was back.

7~7~7~7

He woke to the feel of fingers combing gently through his hair. Opening leaden eyes slowly, he looked up into semi-darkness to see Nettie sitting beside him on the sofa and smiling down at him. He smiled back sleepily and reached for her free hand with his good one.

“Hey,” he rasped softly.

“Hey, yourself,” she greeted. She slid her hand down to his whiskered cheek and stroked lightly. “Don’t you think it’s about time you turned in, son? It’s been a long, hard day and you need ta rest.”

He lifted his head from the pillow where it rested and looked around, frowning in confusion. The overhead lights were off and only a few lamps on, casting a muted glow about the den. He and Nettie were alone in the quiet room. “Where is ever’body?” he asked.

She nodded toward the porch. “Outside, with their drinks an’ cigars. They didn’t wanta wake ya.”

He winced and dropped his head back down against the pillow. “Didn’t mean ta run ’em off,” he breathed. He turned onto his back and sighed at the heaviness of his body. “Feel like an’ old man, noddin’ off ever’ few hours.”

She shrugged. “Your body’s still weak, still healin’. It knows what it needs even if you don’t. And right now,” she arched two gray brows at him, “it needs rest.”

He chuckled softly and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the bony ridge of her knuckles. “I ever told ya how glad I am I went t’ the community center that night? Couldn’t fer the life a’ me figger out why I’s doin’ it. Couldn’ta cared less about gettin’ a GED then. Couldn’t see what good it’d do. Seemed kinda like puttin’ a diamond collar on a street cur.”

“Oh, honey,” she breathed, closing her fingers tightly around his, “you were never a street cur! You were just a boy who was lost an’ needed findin’. An’ I thank God ever’ night that He let me be the one ta find ya.” She smiled softly down at him and brushed the lank hair off his forehead, then cupped his pale, thin cheek lovingly in her callused hand. “You were a blessing then, and you’re a blessing now. You an’ Casey have been the two brightest lights in this ol’ woman’s life.”

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly to him and burying his face in her shoulder. His tears wet her shirt and his thin body shook, but he didn’t cry. Not this time.

She hugged him just as tightly, holding him as fiercely in her arms as she’d always done in her heart. Her tears, too, flowed freely, but she didn’t cry either. What she felt for this young man ran much too deeply for that.

After long moments of simply holding on to her, he lifted his head from her shoulder and gazed into her face, seeing plainly in it all the love she held for him and all the faith she’d ever had in him. Even now, the power of it was enough to take away his breath. He swallowed and raised a shaking hand to her face, lightly tracing the seams etched into it by time and life. “Skinny ol’ biddy,” he whispered, his soft, raspy drawl turning the words into a sweet caress. “All I’ve ever wanted ta do is make you proud of me.”

“You do, son,” she assured him, the truth of the words shining in her eyes. “You do.”

He smiled sweetly at that, his tired eyes soft and deep. “I love ya, Nettie Wells,” he breathed.

She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “And I love you, too, honey, more than you’ll ever know.” She drew back, studied him a moment, then shook her head and clicked her tongue behind her teeth. “Lord, look at ya, boy!” she chided with loving worry. “Y’ ain’t ever been more’n gristle an’ bone, an’ now there ain’t that much to ya!” She lifted her hand back to his cheek, cupping it and stroking it with her thumb. “I can see I’m gonna have my work cut out for me tryin’ ta get some meat on them bones.”

He gave her a small, sly grin. “I reckon yer peach cobbler an’ molasses cookies oughtta do the trick.”

That imperious gray brow shot up and she lifted her head, eyeing him sternly. “It’s gonna take more than that, son. Nathan showed me that diet the doctors put together for ya.”

He deflated with a heavy sigh. “Hell, I’s afraid a’ that,” he breathed. “Nathan never does fight fair.”

“Not when he’s fightin’ for those he cares about, no,” she said. After a moment, though, her sternness fled, chased away by the dejected look on his thin face. “Of course,” she added thoughtfully, “I don’t see how a few treats now an’ then could really hurt, so long as you’re also eatin’ what’s good for ya.”

He perked up again, his eyes widening in anticipation. “You’d do that fer me?” he whispered.

She smiled sadly and shook her head. “Honey, I’d do anything for you. I thought you knew that by now.”

He ducked his head to hide the blush that rose in his face. “Reckon I do,” he rasped softly. “‘S jist … I forget sometimes.”

“Well, you’d best stop forgettin’, Vin Tanner,” she said firmly. “You ain’t just some charity I give to in my spare time, y’know. You’re mine, boy, and there is nothin’ I won’t do for them that’s mine!” She regarded him almost fiercely. “Lord, but you can be thick sometimes!”

He gave a soft, rueful chuckle and raised his head, gazing at her with loving eyes. “Yeah, I know,” he agreed with a small grin. “But I reckon that’s all right, ’long’s I got you ta set me straight.”

“Hmph,” she snorted, shaking her head at him. “That’s turnin’ into a full-time job.” She suddenly winked at him. “Just lucky fer you I got nothin’ better ta do with my time.” She swept her gaze over him again and sighed sharply as she noted his worsening pallor. “I think it’s time we got you inta bed, son. You look plumb worn t’ the bone!”

He smiled faintly and nodded. “Reckon I feel that way, too,” he admitted. She started to rise, but he reached for her arm and held her fast. “Will ya sit with me a while?” he asked softly, feeling foolish for asking, but needing her all the same. “Mebbe jist ’til I go ta sleep? Reckon I might rest better knowin’ yer there.”

Tears again stung her eyes, but she smiled and nodded. “Of course, I will, honey.” She leaned forward and kissed him again. “I’ll sit with ya for as long as ya need me.”

She rose to her feet then and helped him to his. And, as she slipped an arm around his waist and led him slowly toward his room, it occurred to him that she’d be sitting with him for a very long time.

Because he just couldn't envision a day when he wouldn’t need his skinny ol’ biddy.

7~7~7~7

Chris stood on the other side of the glass door and stared into the den, smiling slightly as he watched Nettie helping Vin to his feet. Then he saw the little old woman who barely topped Tanner’s shoulder take most of the battered Texan’s weight upon herself, and he lifted his glass to her back in a silent salute.

“I don’t think we have to worry about anybody ever droppin’ that boy again,” Josiah said softly as he joined Larabee at the door and watched Nettie guide Vin out of the den.

“No,” Chris breathed. “I think we’ve all got a pretty good grip on him now.” He lifted his chin and pride flashed across his features. “And he’s startin’ to hold on pretty good himself.” He nodded firmly. “Startin’ ta see that he’s worth holdin’ on for.”

“That’s half the battle right there,” Josiah mused. “He’s got ta believe he’s worth the effort.”

“He is.”

Josiah heard the unwavering belief in that quiet voice, and had to marvel anew at a friendship that could create such belief in a man who believed in so little else. If faith alone could win this battle, then Vin Tanner had nothing at all to fear.

Chris watched Vin and Nettie until they disappeared into the shadows, and felt a rush of gratitude for whatever fate, whatever chance, had brought those two souls together. And as he thought back on the story Vin had told of how he and Nettie had met, an idea began to take shape in his mind.

“Buck,” he called, turning toward his old friend and cutting off yet another argument between the big man and JD, “you still got contacts in the Denver PD, right?”

“Yeah, I got a few,” Buck answered, frowning in confusion. “Why?”

Chris hesitated a moment, not entirely certain he was doing the right thing but needing to do it regardless. “Those cops who found Vin all those years ago, who got him to the hospital, then took an interest in him. I think he said their names were Abel Nuñez and Graciella Ortiz.” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “See if you can find out what happened to ’em, whether they’re still with the force or what. And,” he winced, “try ta be discreet.”

JD snickered loudly, but Buck cuffed him in the back of the head and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed, having some idea what Larabee intended.

“And, JD,” Chris shifted his gaze to the young computer expert, who was still rubbing his head and glaring at Buck, “I need you ta track some folks down, too.” The boy turned to him and sat up straight, his attention now riveted to Chris. “A couple somewhere in Texas. Joe and Sadie Walker. They used to be licensed foster parents. I wanta know where they are now.”

JD nodded solemnly. “Sure thing, Chris. I’ll get on it tomorrow.”

“Might I inquire as to what you have in mind?” Ezra asked smoothly, his interest piqued.

Chris smiled slightly, tired to his soul but, for the first time since he could remember, feeling a lightening of the crushing weight that had taken up residence there. “I’m not really sure yet,” he admitted. “But I just … Over the years, too many people turned their backs on Vin, let him down when he needed ’em most. But those four didn’t. I don’t know how, but I just … I just want to find a way to let them know … that what they did made a difference.” He shrugged. “They saw somethin’ in Vin when nobody else even bothered to look. I just wanta let ’em know … that they were right.”

Ezra nodded slowly, his gaze locked on Larabee’s. “A worthy endeavor, indeed,” he said softly and with absolute sincerity. He lifted his glass to Chris. “If there is any way I might be of assistance, please do let me know.”

“You volunteerin’, Ez?” Chris asked with a knowing smirk. “That’s a little out of character, isn’t it?”

Standish winked, then raised the glass, which contained a fair portion of his boss’s best bourbon, to his lips. “Consider it my good deed of the decade,” he quipped, then took a drink.

“You really are a fraud, Ez, you know that don’tcha?” Buck said warmly.

“Yes, well,” the Southerner sat back in his chair and smiled openly, “looking around I can only say that I am in very good company.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to the Magnificent Seven, the hardest, toughest, rowdiest band of ATF agents in the country and,” he swept his gaze slowly over the five men gathered about him, “the finest band of brothers it has ever been my blessing to know.”

Five glasses rose to join his and five voices broke as they answered, “Hear, hear.”

7~7~7~7

He pulled the folds of the quilt more tightly about himself and settled back in the lounge, just staring out into the distance and watching as the sun rose ever higher in the early morning sky, as its strengthening light chased the shadows from the land. His own dawn, he knew, had not yet completely broken; darkness and shadows still had too strong a hold upon him. But their grip was loosening, he knew that too, and if the dawn wasn’t here yet, at least now he knew it was coming. And he’d wait for it with a hope and a certainty that he’d never allowed himself to feel before.

Because this time, he wouldn’t be waiting for it alone.

He sighed softly and smiled faintly and let that thought wrap around him like the folds of the quilt. Strange how deep and true his certainty of that ran, the knowledge – not the mere thought, but the utter and absolute knowledge – that he wasn’t alone, wouldn’t be alone, hadn’t been alone from the moment his life had gotten tangled up with Chris and the others’s. In all his life, there’d been precious little he could point to or lay hands upon and say with that kind of conviction, “this is mine.” But he had that now, with these men, had had it all along. It had just taken him coming so damn near losing himself for him to realize what he’d found with them.

Then again, hell, maybe he hadn’t really lost himself at all.

That thought startled him and he sat up a little straighter, frowning deeply as he turned it over in his mind and tried to make sense of it. What was it Nathan had said to him that day he’d come to bring him home from the hospital?

You got things inside you that you’ve kept locked away for too long, parts of yourself that you’ve forgotten existed. And now they’re comin’ out. Maybe it’s time you let ’em. Maybe it’s time you unlocked that door and let ’em out into the light.

Could that be true? Could it be that he hadn’t really lost himself at all, but had just locked parts of himself away? Maybe until he felt strong enough, safe enough, to take them out and look at them, face them, without shame or fear? Could that be why the boys were so sure – Lord, so sure! – that they’d get him back? Because they knew that he was still there for them to get back?

I ain’t gonna let you go. Wasn’t that what Chris kept saying to him, over and over again? I gotcha, pard, and I ain’t gonna let you go. Chris Larabee, who never said anything he didn’t mean and who never made a promise he wasn’t damned sure he could keep, kept saying this, kept making this promise. So for Chris to promise never to let him go had to mean that he wasn’t already gone.

Quicksand’s got me good.

Or did it? Maybe he’d thought so, once. Maybe even been sure of it. But he’d been wrong.

You hold on, and no matter how hard that quicksand pulls you won’t go under.

Quicksand might’ve had him good. Chris and the boys had him better.

We don’t let go of our own.

Maybe the dawn wasn’t nearly as far away as he’d thought.

He smiled at that and settled back against the lounge, closing his eyes and snuggling deeper into the quilt. Behind him, he heard the glass door slide open and quiet footsteps fall against the porch, and knew without looking who was joining him. The door slid shut again, the footsteps came closer, and he could’ve sworn that he caught the wondrous smell of fresh coffee on the chilly morning breeze.

“I figured you’d sleep in all mornin’,” Chris said as he set the thermal coffee carafe and two mugs on the small table between the lounge and a sturdy wooden chair.

Vin snorted softly and opened his eyes to look up at his friend. “Hell, I went ta bed at dusk. An’ even with all them pills I’m takin’, there’s only so long I can sleep.”

“It was a bit later than dusk,” Chris countered, pouring coffee into the two mugs. “It was about eight o’clock–”

“Oh, well then,” Vin cracked. “I’m a regular night-owl!” He arched a brow as Larabee lifted one of the mugs and held it out to him. “There any sugar in that?”

Chris sighed, shook his head and set the mug back down. Then, reaching into the front pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a handful of sugar packets and dropped them onto the table. “That should be enough for your first cup at least, right?’

“I’ll be damned.” Vin stared at the small pile of packets, then lifted a twinkling blue gaze to Larabee. “Who’da thought you could actually fit anything inta them pockets?”

Chris tried to scowl, but had to laugh instead. He picked up two of the packets, tore the tops off them and emptied them into Tanner’s mug, then pulled a spoon out of his shirt pocket and stirred the brew. “You’re in a good mood,” he noted, handing the cup back to his friend.

Vin took the mug and cradled it in both hands, grateful for its warmth against his chilled fingers. “Had ta happen eventually,” he answered wryly. “Law of av’rages an’ all that.”

“Hell, now you’re soundin’ like Ezra,” Chris joked as he settled into the chair across the table from Vin.

“Sorry,” Vin chuckled as he raised the mug to his lips to sip from it. “I’ll try not t’ make a habit of it.”

“See that you don’t,” Chris ordered with a grin. “One of him’s about all I can handle.”

Vin chuckled again but said nothing and, as they drank their coffee, the old, comfortable silence fell between them, so familiar but so long absent, and so deeply missed. Each tried to remember the last time they’d simply sat like this; neither could. And both now just let themselves sink into it, feeling it flow like a healing balm over their souls. This had always been such a natural part of their friendship, this quiet where words would only have gotten in the way of all that they shared between them in so many other ways. Only in having it back now did they realize how keenly they’d felt its loss.

Yet even as he enjoyed with Chris the peace of a new day taking hold, Vin couldn’t help but think of other times that had been nothing like this. The painful awakenings in the hospital, the horrible nightmares that had proven only too real, the rage and the terror at being restrained, the fights, the tears, the screaming fits … and through all of them, all of them, the constant presence of one man at his side. Had it been his will, he would never have subjected Chris to any of that. By his own will, Chris had endured all of it. And by his presence had gotten Vin through it, too. Was getting him through it still.

God, the words hadn’t been invented that could possibly express his gratitude for that!

“I’ll never understand how ya did it,” he rasped softly, fixing a puzzled gaze on Larabee. “All those times in the hospital, when I’s screamin’ an’ fightin’ or didn’t have the first fuckin’ clue where I was or what was goin’ on … Only thing I knew fer sure was that you was there.” He shook his head slowly, still staring at Chris in bewilderment. “It had ta be hell on ya, but still ya did it. An’ I’ll never understand how.”

Chris sat up in his chair and set his cup down on the table, then folded his arms upon it and leaned forward. Remembered pain crossed his face and he winced deeply at the thought of those horrible days. “It was hell,” he admitted quietly, dropping his gaze to the tabletop but seeing again that hated hospital room. “Day after day, night after night, I sat with you and watched as you were tortured in ways I didn’t understand and was powerless to stop. I wanted desperately to help you, but couldn’t. Didn’t know how. Didn’t know what I’d be helping you against. Every time you screamed or cried, some part of me did too. I was afraid we were both gonna die in that hospital. I was sure we were both gonna go crazy there.”

“Then why’d ya stay?”

Chris thought a moment, then lifted his head to meet that confused gaze. “Because you were in hell and there was no way I was gonna leave you in there alone. Because somebody was tryin’ like hell ta take you away from us, and I’d be goddamned if I was gonna let that happen. But most of all,” he said firmly, “most of all, I stayed because you needed me to. And because that’s where I needed ta be.”

Vin exhaled slowly and shook his head. “I ain’t got the words ta thank ya, Chris–”

“You don’t need words, Vin,” he said softly, smiling faintly. “And I don’t need thanks. Hell, the fact that we’re sittin’ here havin’ this talk now is thanks enough. I thought we were gonna lose you,” he rasped. “So many times and in so many ways. But we didn’t. Against all the odds, against all the doctors’ worst predictions, you survived. You’re here now and you’re gonna get better.” He shrugged and smiled. “Hell, if anybody needs ta start findin’ ways ta say ‘thanks,’ I’d say it’s me and the boys.”

“I am gonna get better, y’know,” Vin vowed softly, blue gaze intent on Larabee’s face. “I don’t know when or how, an’ I’ll admit that I’m scared ta death, but I am gonna get better.”

“I know,” Chris said with quiet conviction. “I truly believe that you will.”

“But,” Vin frowned thoughtfully, “I ain’t gonna do it fer you an’ the boys, or fer Nettie, or fer anybody else. I been thinkin’ about it, an’ I wanta do it fer me.” He lifted his chin slightly, and the familiar spirit flashed in his eyes. “I done worked too long an’ too hard ta pull myself outta that bastard’s clutches,” he declared in a low but steady voice. “I worked too hard ta build a life fer myself. I done a lotta things I ain’t proud of, but I done even more that I am. A lotta folks’ve said I wouldn’t never amount ta nothin’, that I wasn’t worth nothin’, but they was wrong. I ain’t trash an’ I ain’t crazy an’ I won’t be nobody’s goddamn victim!” he growled fiercely. “I’m me, I’m Vin Tanner, and I want my life back because, goddamn it, it’s mine!”

Chris exhaled unsteadily as pride swept through him in a hard, hot rush, and a broad, bright smile spread slowly across his face. Leaning across the table, he stretched out an arm to his friend and said, “Welcome back, Vin Tanner. It’s about damn time you got here.”

Vin leaned forward and locked arms with Chris in the forearm clasp that had been theirs from the start. “Yeah, well,” he rasped, his gaze boring into Larabee’s, “best you get used ta havin’ me around, cowboy, ’cause I’m here ta stay.”