Signing off on each team member's report of their last case, adding his own to the stack, Chris Larabee tossed his pen aside, flexing the fingers of his right hand and rubbed the back of his neck with his left.
Damn, how he hated all this paperwork!
He chose to ignore the ringing phone in the outer office, knowing Josiah would answer it. It was probably the judge wanting to know if he was finished yet, and with a deep sigh, Larabee turned his attention back to the budget reports and requisition forms. Although Nathan had readily taken on the job of keeping the books, as team leader, Larabee had to double check everything and add his 'John Hancock'.
"Shoulda made no paperwork a condition of taking this job when Travis offered it," he muttered under his breath.
As a shadow fell across his desk, he looked up from the stack of paperwork, everything quickly forgotten at the grim expression worn by the ex-preacher standing in the doorway.
The big man didn't bother to mince words or find a gentle way to break the news. There wasn't time. "Chris, Rayne just called from the hospital. There's been an accident."
Larabee mentally ran the location of each member of his Elite team, scattered about the country. When Nathan and JD had volunteered for a seminar the judge suggested in L.A., with things they needed to take care of, Chris and Josiah had both announced they'd man the office, leaving the others free to enjoy themselves.
Ezra had surprised them all by immediately leaving to visit his mother, of all people. Of course the fact she was in Las Vegas might have influenced that decision.
"Please tell me it's not ---"
"It's Vin…" Josiah saw the team leader visible age ten years, as he scrambled to his feet and grabbing his jacket, pushed past the large man, running for the elevator. The older man was sure Larabee in his fear and haste hadn't heard his additional "and Buck."
Not even remembering leaving the parking garage, Chris found himself steering through city traffic, heading for the hospital, fighting the urge to use his bitch light and siren. He belatedly realized he hadn't bothered to ask Josiah what had happened. It didn't matter since he wasn't at all certain he wanted to know.
Earlier in the week, Buck had received a call from a pilot friend saying he knew someone with an old Stearman airplane for sale. Wilmington had expressed interest in owning one of the vintage planes after having flown his friend's during a visit to Virginia.
Vin, always ready for any adventure, had happily tagged along, accepting Buck's invitation to join him for a test flight. Now it turned out it was one adventure the sharpshooter could have done without!
What the hell had gone wrong?
Buck was a well qualified pilot, one of the best Larabee had ever seen, not given to taking rash or stupid actions when in a cockpit. Out of the cockpit was another matter all together.
"I swear to God, when he's healthy, I'm gonna kick his ass all the way back to Texas!" Larabee growled.
"Chris, you should know---"
Larabee cut him off. "Can't let that boy outta my sight for two minutes."
"Chris-" Josiah tried again.
"If it's not him, it's Ezra!" The team leader growled. "Spend more damn time at the hospital than most of the doctors."
Josiah shook his head and fell silent, wondering if Chris even realized he wasn't alone. The large man pulled the cell phone from his pocket and began dialing.
A million dire thoughts, a million different scenarios, raced through Larabee's mind as he parked the truck and hurried through the hospital's double doors, striding for the nurses' station. The grim look on his face gave anyone in his path second thoughts as they backpedaled out of his way.
"Tanner?" he barked out his friend's name and the nurse smiled, as she pulled up the information on her computer. She had experience with these seven men and knew how close they all were. If one of the team showed up as a patient, the staff could bet it wouldn't be long before the others were descending on the hospital, ready to offer whatever support was needed to their injured companion.
"Mister Tanner is listed as stable. The doctor is still with him. I'm sure as soon as he is finished, he'll be out to talk with you. If you'd like to wait over there…" She motioned towards the crowded waiting room, and rethought that suggestion at seeing Larabee's expression. "Perhaps you'd like to wait in the nurses' lounge?" He gave a brisk nod and she turned to the young aide at her elbow. "Susan, show this gentleman and his friend to the lounge."
At her words Chris suddenly realized he wasn't alone. Frowning he turned to see Josiah beside him. "Who's watching the office?"
"You really care?" Surprised by the question, Josiah gave him a small smile as he bounced a set of keys in his huge hand. "Office is fine for now." Adding, "I locked the elevator."
The ex-profiler was certain Larabee wouldn't give a damn if the building housing their office took wing and flew away as long as everyone was together and all right. The man's question was merely a defense mechanism, a pathetically hopeful way of making everything appear normal.
Larabee knew Josiah was just as worried about Tanner as he was. Looking dismayed, but not castigating the man, feeling disgusted with himself for even asking such a stupid question, Chris followed the nurse's aide as she led them through the hallways to a small comfortable room with the all too familiar smell of stale coffee permeating the air.
Josiah whispered in the aide's ear as Larabee stepped past her.
"Help yourself, gentlemen. I'll be back shortly with news on your friends." She hurried from the room and Chris spun on Josiah with a frown.
"'Friends?'"
Josiah nodded somberly. "Buck's here, too, Chris."
The team leader's hazel eyes widened. He hadn't heard Josiah's early words and in fact had been formulating the speech and butt kicking he intended to deliver to Wilmington for getting Tanner injured.
"Buck's hurt…too?" he managed to rasp out in a choked whisper.
Josiah nodded, "I tried to tell you, but you kept cutting me off."
Chris moved for the door. "I need to find out how…"
The large man grabbed his arm. "She said she would bring word as soon as they knew anything. Sit down, Chris… they'll let us know."
Larabee moved to the center of the room and spun around, "Did you call the others?"
Josiah nodded quietly.
Of course he had. Steadfast, dependable Josiah would have taken care of everything. "You call Lucy and Molly?"
The older man shook his head, looking slightly embarrassed. "I figured we'd wait until we had more news…" he offered lamely, not wanting to be the one to call the young ladies. That was Chris' job….
Pouring them each a cup of coffee, Sanchez watched as Larabee paced nervously around the small room. A small TV sat in the corner, its volume muted, its images flashing, but concerned only for their friends, neither man noticed the breaking news coverage of the crash of a Stearman plane which had taken place at a private airstrip on the outskirts of town.
Pushing open the door, the nurse's aide gave a startled gasp, backing up a step when Chris nearly pounced on her demanding news. "Aw, yes…Rayne...I take it you know her... She's assisting Doctor Edwards and said to inform you Mister Tanner is in stable condition. Mister Wilmington, however, is listed as critical for the moment."
Chris' eyes flashed. "What the hell do you mean for the moment?"
The nurse took another step backwards at the blonde's angry tone. "They won't upgrade his condition until all the test results are in. Doctors are with both of them and we'll keep you posted further." She glanced down at her scribbled notes.
"Mister Wilmington has severe trauma, but that is all the doctor would say." She gave Josiah an apologetic look. "I'm afraid they keep us in the dark as much as you. But I'll keep after them."
Larabee dropped into the chair Josiah pulled away from the table as she hurried from the room, burying his face in his hands.
'Critical condition.'
'Severe trauma.'
'What the hell kind of friend are you?' Larabee questioned himself. 'You're supposed to be Buck's best friend. You knew Buck and Vin were together, but you didn't give him a second thought.'
"Shit!" He swore and shoved to his feet, unable to remain motionless. The click of his boot heels sounded even louder as he nervously paced the small silent room.
'Ya should be real proud of yourself, Larabee. You're some kind of sorry fuckin' friend.' Guilt washed over him in waves. 'Why the hell didn't it occur to you that the man who stood by you through the worst times of your life might have been hurt, too?'
Josiah sat back and watched the other man, his blue gray gaze reading every nuance of the younger man's body language. He finally scrubbed a huge hand through his grizzled hair and spoke, his deep voice soothing. "Buck'd understand…."
Chris swung around to face him, his eyes wide. 'Fuck, I thought only Tanner...and sometimes Buck...could read my mind!' Was he that transparent?
Josiah shrugged slightly. "Brother Buck understands a helluva lot more than any of us gives him credit for. That big ol' smile and easy goin' manner throws you off, but he knows more than he lets on."
"He feels more, too," Larabee whispered, his voice ragged. He dropped in the chair, turning to face Josiah, "Damnit, Josiah, I should have talked to him…"
The huge man frowned, "You talk to Buck everyday, Chris," he pointed out quietly, knowing the younger man was referring to something in particular.
"That's not what I mean." The blonde man shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "We talk about everyday things...cases, women, sports... I never talked to him about the important things. Things he deserved to know." He turned anguished eyes to the ex-priest. "What if he….?" He trailed off, unable to say the words, as he whispered, "What if he never knows I read all those stupid letters….?"
He swung around as the door pushed open and a familiar figure limped in, assisted by Rayne.
"Vin?" Both men converged on the young tracker who looked the worse for wear. A small white butterfly bandage covered a laceration over his left eye and his left ankle and foot were thickly wrapped with an ace bandage. Vivid colors were starting to form under both eyes.
Tanner tried to push aside their concern. "'M okay. Just a bump on the head and a sprained ankle."
"Not to mention a broken nose, bruised ribs and slight concussion." Rayne added, handing the preacher Vin's medication and boot.
Vin threw a look of disgust at the nurse who only smiled in return. "Looks worse than it is. How's Bucklyn?"
Josiah steered him to one of the chairs. "We're waiting on word now."
"I'll go see what I can find out," the pretty nurse volunteered before giving Tanner a warning glare. "You stay off that ankle, Vin Tanner, or I'll strap your skinny ass in a wheelchair."
The tracker nodded, knowing she was as good as her word and as Chris resumed pacing, the young man leaned closer to Josiah. "How's he doin'?" he questioned softly, nodding towards Larabee.
'Feelin' guilty.' Keeping that thought to himself, Sanchez shrugged. "You know Brother Chris."
"Yeah, I do," Vin admitted and painfully maneuvered to his feet.
Knowing he should stop him, but certain it was something both men needed, Sanchez said nothing as Vin slowly limped across the room.
The older man spun, his hazel eyes wide, as Vin laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "How ya doin', Pard?"
Chris forced a small grin, guiding the sharpshooter to the couch. "Ain't I the one to be askin' you that?"
Vin waved his concern aside. "Weren't nothin'."
"What the hell happened anyway? All they told us was an accident…" Larabee suddenly glanced in the profiler's direction wondering just how much Josiah knew... How much Chris hadn't heard?
'Ya better start learnin' ta listen, asshole,' his inner voice bitterly castigated him.
"Aww, hell, that silly plane lost power. Bucklyn's a helluva pilot! Got her lined up with the airstrip and tried to sit her down... Glided down just like a big ol' bird... Damn near succeeded too, but we hit tail first. He got the brunt of it," he admitted, his expression guilty.
Chris looked away as realization dawned. He knew that model of Stearman and he knew Buck. He was certain it was no accident if the plane had hit tail first. Vin would have been in the front seat, and if they had nosed down, the engine would have collapsed back on that first cockpit section.
Refusing to follow that fatalistic train of thought -- refusing to acknowledge if that had happened, they'd likely be burying both his oldest and his best friend, the blond looked away from the tracker, not letting Vin see his expression as he huffed out a breath. "Damn sky jock! I told him he's gonna be seriously hurt in one of those things…" he lamented.
"And how many of those things has Brother Buck been in, Chris?" Josiah questioned, handing cups of coffee to both men on the couch. They all knew flying was as much a part of Buck as chasing and loving women.
Larabee shrugged, taking a sip and set the cup aside. "Couple hundred jets, maybe a couple dozen of these older models. They're the ones that'll turn around and bite you in the ass."
Vin shook his head. "The Stearman's a good plane. Think something was fouled in the fuel line."
Chris' eyebrows arched. "So now you're an antique plane expert?"
"Nope," Vin grinned, leaning his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes, "just know what Bucklyn told me. He said---"
"Excuse me?"
Everyone's gaze focused on the nurse standing in the doorway.
"Are you the gentlemen waiting on news about Herman?"
Josiah shook his head, "No, ma'am, news on Buck Wilmington."
She perused her notes. "Yes, that's right, Mister Wilmington. Herman Wilmington."
Chris groaned, wondering if the woman realized she'd signed her own death warrant as Josiah and Vin exchanged looks and both blurted out, "Herman?!"
She nodded. "Yes, Herman Lyn Wilmington."
The last people who got away with calling the pilot 'Herman' unscathed was his grade school teachers and any officer above a full bird colonel. Named after his mother's favorite cousin, the little boy had idolized the man. It hadn't taken long for the other women in the house to give him the older man's nickname calling him Lil' Buck.
Unable to help himself, Vin hooted with laughter as Josiah muttered, "Well at least you got the Lyn part right, Brother."
Realizing the nurse didn't look as if she were about to deliver devastatingly bad news, Chris glared at the team mates before crossing to the woman. "Yes, that's him," he assured the nurse.
"How is he?"
Josiah and Vin sobered immediately as she again studied her charts.
"Mister Wilmington suffered a concussion, lacerations, and severe leg trauma. The doctor wants to keep him at least over night for observation, but he'll most likely keep him for a few days just to be on the safe side."
"Can we see him?"
"The doctor sent him down to have his leg plastered, and they'll settle him in a room after that. I'll come and get you then."
Josiah thanked her as she left the room and Chris sank into the chair, relief flooding through him.
*******
Pretending to read an article in the magazine one of the nurses had provided, Josiah sat beside Buck's bed where he could see all three men. He was certain Rayne had arranged for Buck to be placed in a room with two empty beds, knowing his friends would see to it that Vin made use of the unoccupied bed.
Vin had fallen asleep in the second bed as soon as he assured himself Buck was going to be fine and Chris had taken the chair between the two beds where he could sit watch over both men.
The only sounds were those from the monitors mixing with Tanner's soft snores, and those which filtered through the closed door.
A nurse had been by every thirty minutes to check on Buck, writing on his chart, checking the monitors and assuring his worried friends everything was fine. Following procedure when dealing with a concussion, twice they'd wakened him enough to check reflexes and reactions.
Buck would wake up, grumble at her for disturbing his sleep, answer her questions and doze back off. It was evident to the other men he was fine...or would be in time... when he'd given the woman a small wink and a smile, assuring her in that most believable way of his that she was the prettiest thing he'd seen all day.
Having received Josiah's message concerning the accident, each team member had checked in, --JD the most frantic--and despite his patient reassurances both friends were going to be all right, each absent team member had immediately made plans to return, telling him they would see him at the hospital.
But as he sat in the room, his gray eyed gaze moving over his three team mates, the ex-FBI agent was more worried about the condition of their team leader then he was Wilmington or Tanner.
*******
Chris' hazel eyed gaze was on the big man in the bed. Funny, he had never really thought of Buck as being vulnerable, but the big man looked almost defenseless, his jovial smiling guards down as he slept.
He reminded Larabee of Adam's much loved, rumpled old teddy bear…. Big, cheery, cuddly, with arms always ready to give comfort…. And never asking anything in return….
Sitting quietly, Josiah studied Larabee as the man sat leaning forward on the chair, his clasped hands hanging between his knees.
"Something on your mind, Brother?" He questioned with a soft rumble.
Chris started, looked up uncomfortably and shook his head.
"You said something earlier about you should have talked to Buck. What should you have told him, Chris?" The ex-priest wasn't being nosey, but he knew the other man was troubled and needed to talk.
The Hoosier shook his head, not really wanting to talk, but seemingly unable to help himself. "Lots of things, but I kept puttin' it off." He raked long fingers through his short hair, searching for the right way to say what was on his mind. "I was never sure how to bring it up because I didn't …."
"Want to reopen old wounds?" Josiah offered.
Larabee nodded at the big man's words and looked away, rubbing at the back of his neck, a sign Josiah recognized as the man being deeply troubled and unwilling to admit it. Maybe with a gentle nudging….
"What should you have brought up, Chris? What was it you thought Buck needed to know?" Perhaps if Chris admitted to him…..
On the second bed, keeping his eyes closed, Vin remained silent, mentally urging his hurting friend to talk to the older man. The Texan was well aware of the remaining rift between Chris and Buck. He had carefully watched the interaction between the two old friends since Wilmington had first returned to Four Corners. Although they got along well, and enjoyed each other's company, Vin knew there was a lot of unspoken baggage between them… a lot of things which needed to be out in the open and voiced to make things right between the two old friends. To put things back the way they should be.
To that end, Tanner had vowed to himself, if it came right down to it, he would do whatever was necessary to assure Buck realized how much he meant to Chris. If that meant the Texan himself had to leave, so the two would have to turn to each other again, he was willing to forfeit his friendship with Chris to bring it about...no matter how much it would hurt him personally. He knew Chris and Buck needed each other like he had once needed Jamie.
Chris gave Sanchez a sidelong glance as if reading his mind. "You thinkin' confession is good for the soul, Preacher?" There was a touch of rancor in his voice.
Josiah grinned, ignoring what he heard in the man's tone. "If you consider it a confession of sorts, then, yes, my son."
"You in your Father Confessor mode?" Chris half joked, but there was no humor in the small smile which touched his lips.
"You need me to be?" Josiah countered quietly, laying the unread magazine aside.
"Maybe…" Feeling pressured somehow, not from Josiah, but rather an internal adversity, Chris pushed to his feet and his jerky steps evidenced his agitated state. "Back when JD got hurt... 'cause of that mess with Ella... at the hospital, Buck said something that...." He stopped, frowned and blurted out, "Hell, he thinks I hold him responsible for Sarah…and Adam's deaths."
Josiah knew Chris' wife and son had died in a fire when Larabee was still in the military. Buck had mentioned the investigation had revealed a ruptured gas line leak had been the cause.
Larabee took several deep breaths, struggling to push aside the hellish memory of that night when flames had lit the night sky, and the bodies of the two people he held most dearest in this life lay covered with sheets on the cold wet ground. Screams – his own screams of denial – had rent the dark night and in his shock, he hadn't even realized two strong arms had held and comforted him…. Buck…
"Damn, if I hadn't taken the time to fill out that damn report... If I hadn't waited while Buck got that girl's number... If we hadn't even agreed to do that damn testing, the both of us probably would have been killed in the explosion too, and you and I wouldn't be here even talkin' 'bout this. But I've never told him that….I never told him anything, Josiah…." He trailed off, his steps faltering as he directed his gaze at the big man lying in the bed. "God forgive me, I did hate him, Josiah. Hell, I hated everything and everyone 'cause I didn't die with them. I wanted to die – and Buck, damn his sorry hide, just wouldn't let me. And I hated him for that, too.
"I was so wrapped up in my own pain and guilt, I never once….. Not once… gave a thought to what he suffered and what he lost that night, too." He shook his head, looking uncomfortably at Josiah. "What kinda of sorry assed friend does that make me?"
"One who was tryin' to cope with an extremely traumatic loss, Chris…"
Larabee didn't seem to hear him as he continued, "I was so self-centered and ate up with grief I couldn't see anything beyond my own feelings, my own emotions, my own life…and how it was so fucked up. I never stopped to realize Buck lost damn near as much as I did in that explosion…. And probably more. He lost Sarah." He stopped pacing, raking his hand through his hair again. "Damn, Josiah, he loved her like a little sister. And Adam…he lost Adam. He was Uncle Buck, but he loved that boy as dearly as I did." He paused, looking down at his hands, as he admitted, "And he lost his best friend.
"Hell, I don't know how he held it together. He let me rant and rave and carry on like a mad man... but he didn't have anyone to listen to him... least of all his best friend. No one to scream at... No one to help him... I didn't give a shit what he was feeling... I was too fucked up and didn't...wouldn't listen."
Sanchez said nothing as Chris stopped his pacing to stare down at the unconscious man and a small smile of incredulity came to the blonde man's face. "But, bless his big heart, he stuck with me. I sure don't know why. Hell, Josiah, I cussed him, I kicked him, punched him, and called him everything but a human being. No matter what I did, no matter how vile I was, no matter what I said to him or called him, no matter what I threatened him with, no matter how hard or how far I pushed him away, he always came back." He looked at the man again, as if just suddenly realizing it for the first time, he repeating lowly, "He always came back…Like a faithful dog."
Josiah tilted back in his chair, "Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment---"
"Or maybe he was just a damn fine loyal friend," Chris interjected quietly. "And I never thought what bringin' him back here would do. I've managed to put a few of my demons to sleep, but…. " He swallowed around a lump in his throat, "he's gotta have a few of his own….."
"I'd say if something was botherin' Brother Buck, he'd be the first to let you know." The ex-priest pointed out. "He ain't exactly one for hiding his feelings. Seems to me you're the one who constantly points out the fact he says exactly what's on his mind."
Chris frowned slightly, "Maybe…." He crossed to the window and leaning against the sill, stared out into the dark night, his arms wrapped around himself. "And you know, I never thanked him for the letters…"
That was the second time the man had mentioned letters. Sanchez shifted in his chair, his gaze moving from the man on the bed to the man at the window. "What letters, Chris?"
Larabee chewed his lip. These were things he needed to tell Buck. Things they should have talked about a long time ago. "When Buck went back to duty, he wrote me. All the time. Not epics, but cheery little letters about the squad, people I knew, their missions," he smiled, "his ladies in every port… I read 'em, Josiah, every damn one of them. I devoured every word, sometimes reading them over and over. They were like a life line thrown to a drowning man. They helped keep me grounded in reality when I was sure I was going off the deep end. "
He couldn't stifle the small chuckle, "The sorry bastard kept me hanging on…. He'd just end in mid-sentence …. And pick up the subject in the next letter…. I-I-I had to know how the story ended, so I'd hang on for just one more week…." He shook his head. "I never answered him…. But those letters kept me sane -- kept me alive, Josiah. And I kept those damn letters. Every single one of them. I should have thanked him…."
Smiling, Josiah leaned forward, murmuring, "I think you just did."
Puzzled, Chris turned to see shimmering blue eyes staring at him. He smiled as he hurriedly crossed to the bed and enveloped his oldest friend in a gentle bear hug.
Watching through barely slit lids, Vin released a soft sigh of contentment and let himself doze off knowing everything was going to be fine.
Josiah smiled as he heard Chris' softly uttered words, "Thanks, for my life, Herman…"
His smile grew as Buck happily nodded, then the pilot's eyes abruptly widened and he heard Buck's….err, Herman's groan of dismay and his frenetically whispered plea, "Ohhhh, damn, Chris, please-please-tell me they don't know …."
"Sorry, pal, can't tell ya that..." Larabee’s voice was soft, as clutching Wilmington's hand, he soothingly stroked his friend's dark hair, blinking back his own tears. "Can guarantee ya it won't leave this room though. ‘Course you might want to work your animal magnetism on that pretty little nurse who let it slip…."
"Thanks, Hoss..." The pilot’s heavy lids slid closed only to snap open again, the blue eyes full of alarm. "Vin!"
Hearing his name, the Texan roused enough to mutter, “’M fine, Bucklyn….”
"He's fine...” Chris verified. “That’s just another thing I need ta be thankin’ ya for." The Hoosier smiled. "Now, get some rest cause when you're up to it, we're gonna have that talk I mentioned a while back."
Buck stared up at him, a look of wonder in his face, and an unvoiced question in his eyes. As Chris nodded, the other man’s face broke into a wide smiling expression of contentment and still clutching his old friend’s hand, the pilot allowed himself to drift off to sleep.
And Josiah Sanchez, Father Confessor, let his gaze linger over his three friends as he sent silent thanks heavenward. Then, leaning back, his hands clasped behind his head, he closed his eyes. For the moment, everything was right, and on its way to getting better in the Seven’s world and the comfortable peace between two old friends was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.
THE END