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

Disclaimer: Nothing Seven is mine. They belong to CBS&Mirisch. Universe
belongs to Mog. Dr. Mason is Maggie's. Huh, I just own the ideas. Sad
isn't it.
Rating: PG 13, for implied violence. About a 10 on the Cass
Sapp-o-meter.
Warnings: None really, although it hasn't been betaed.

Author's Notes** I promised I'd be writing as soon as summer school was
over. I just didn't mean for it to be on a new story. Oh, well, I hope
y'all don't mind.

Also, since Marla and Penny have definitely done a good job of hurting
poor JD, I decided to hurt EVERYONE else!

Thanks to Maggs for the evilness she came up with as to how I could do
it.

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

Alone

He hadn’t really wanted to go. Skiing , especially night skiing, wasn’t
something he was in to.  But Casey seemed to like it.  Or at least her
college friends did.

It wasn’t that JD didn’t like the University crowd, that he often had
to deal with when he saw Casey, it was just that he didn’t have that
much in common with them.  They were always talking about one class or
another or about the frat house they belong to.  As far as JD was
concerned, he’d already lived that part of his life, and even when he
was in school, there had been little time for things like parties and
girls.

Maybe that’s why Buck had made such a big deal about him going to the
ski lodge for the night.  His bestfriend knew what his young partner’s
life had been like in Boston; and even though JD sometimes thought he
might have missed out on some things while
he was dividing his time between advanced courses and caring for his
mother, he never regretted his decisions or where they had inevitably
led him.   Unfortunately , his ‘big brother’ seemed bent on making sure
his self-appointed sibling enjoyed himself this time, even if it was
Casey in college, and not JD himself.

To tell the truth though, JD would have much rather been spending this
Friday night in his usual manner, hanging out with ‘his friends’, his
family, at the bar affectionately known as the saloon.  JD loved being
an ATF agent , and he especially loved being part of the team known as
the Magnificent 7.  He’d never felt more accepted or more content than
he did when he’d been chosen for Chris Larabee’s group. Never once did
he feel cheated or short-changed by his position, which did consume
most of his time these days.

Even if he weren’t on duty, JD usually found himself with Buck off
doing things he’d always wanted an older brother for.  They went
fishing or to a ballgame, or even to a movie, especially if it were a
‘chick’ flick as Buck liked to call them.  These films, as Wilmington
had explained to him once, always brought out the lonely, unappreciated
princesses that were in dire need of the ‘right’ appreciation.  Buck
was always willing to show his appreciation for the fairer sex.

Consequently, if Buck were occupied in rescuing one of his damsels,
there was always Vin to hang out with. That was cool with JD, because
hanging with the sharpshooter of their team always meant excitement.
They rode their bikes, played pool, or JD’s personal favorite, went to
Chris’s ranch to ride horses.  Not only did the kid get to see his
horse ,Seven, but Chris often treated them to a meal and, more
importantly, his attention.  Sometimes, JD hated to admit just how much
spending time with his ‘hero' meant to him.  Hell, spending time with
any of the Seven was probably his favorite pasttime. So, as he casually
nodded and smiled as one of Casey’s sorority sister’s yaddled on about
her obnoxious English Lit. professor, JD couldn’t help but to be
dumbfounded as to how he’d been talked into ditching his team for this
outing.

For a moment, when he caught Casey looking at him, he felt guilty for
his thoughts.  After all, she did look really cute in her knew ski
suit, and Buck had made him promise to have fun, but when his cellphone
rang he’d never been more than anxious to jump up and rush to where
he’d left it in his leather jacket.

Casey gave him a challenging glare, which he’d only shrugged off. “It
may be work,” he said appologetically, hoping it was Buck.

“You’re off duty,” she countered, controlling her temper in the wake of
the others.

JD winked at her. “I’m never ‘that' off duty.”

The young ATF agent strode to the other end of the cabin, smiling to
himself as he heard one of Casey’s friend’s asking why she put up with
his crap. “Dunne,” he said into the reciever, mimicking the cool tone
Vin often used.

It wasn’t who JD had expected.

“JD?” Assistant Director Travis had never called the youngest member of
the Seven. Heck, JD didn’t even know he had his phone number. Maybe
that’s why it took a moment for the voice to register.

“Judge?” JD inquired, using the title the team used to address the
former Federal Judge, who’d accepted a commissioned spot with the ATF
only after his son was murdered while investigating an illegal weapon’s
ring for the Denver Clarion.

“Yes, son.” Dunne’s heart quickened as he picked up on a certain
quality in his boss’s voice. “I’m afraid I have some bad news and I
need you to come back to the city as soon as possible.”

“What’s wrong? Is it the guys?” JD had walked over to the stereo and
shut it off now, not giving a damn about the grunted protests coming
from the crowd behind him.

“There was a shooting, JD,” the judge explained, in his calm, detatched
voice,as if he were speaking about mere strangers. “The team was
leaving Inez’s and a car drove by. There was gunplay. Looks like a
planned hit.”

*Hit!* “Are they..did they..?” JD couldn’t bring himself to ask the
unimagineable. To say the unthinkable.

“They’re alive, son. Josiah wanted to call you but the doctor is
stitching him up, and Nathan’s having his shoulder x-rayed.” It wasn’t
what the judge was saying that caused the bile to rise to the back of
JD’s throat, it was what the kid knew he was purposefully not saying.

“The others?” JD didn’t even recognize the hollow voice that asked the
simple question.

“It’s not good.” Orrin Travis’s voice broke slightly and that scared
Dunne more than the actual words themselves.

“Buck? He’s alright? Right?” Dunne didn’t care if he sounded desperate,
not even if it was the Judge he was talking with.  He had to know about
his brother.

“You should get here as soon as you can, JD.” Travis avoided the
question. “Have one of your friends to drive you to Four Corner’s Mercy
and..”

JD hung up before the older man could finish. He would drive himself.
All his friends were in Four Corners. In trouble. These people had
nothing in common with him, except for maybe his age. They knew nothing
about real life.

His life.

Dunne grabbed his coat and shrugged it on, not noticing that everyone
was now watching him, not caring that Casey was now at his side, her
large brown eyes reflecting worry and concern.

“JD?” Her quiet tone brought JD’s gaze to her.

“You’ll have to ride back with Sam or Karen,” JD explained, sounding
much more like Chris than he’d ever wanted to. “I’ve got to go.”

The young agent grabbed the keys to Buck’s truck from the peg near the
door of the cabin and rushed out into the chilled night, not even
looking back when he heard Casey yell at him to be careful.

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

Even though Wilmington’s vehicle wasn’t the fastest around, the ‘old
girl’, as Buck affectionately called her, did well in the snow. That’s
why JD’s bestfriend had insisted he drive it that night, and why JD had
made exceptional time getting off the mountain and back into the city.

When he burst through the emergency room doors, he wasn’t prepared for
what he found. Or, more importantly,  for what he didn’t find. No one
was there waiting.

No reassuring smile from a kind-hearted ex-army medic greeted him.

No calming voice from a philosophic missionary’s son met his ears.

No wink and a gold-toothed grin from a smooth southern con-man, brought
a smile to his worried features.

No ‘glad you finally made it, kid’ from a lanky sharpshooter who had
always been the first to welcome him.

No rock, dressed in black and wearing a confident look, that would have
made the devil think twice about challenging him, for JD to lean on.

And no shelter from the storm, that usually came in the form of a
rib-crushing, ‘everything’s going to be alright now’, famous, Buck
Wilmington hug.

JD almost dropped to his knees as he looked around the waiting room,
and realized he was alone. Totally...
heartbreakingly.....desperately...alone. * How could this happen?*

“JD?” The voice seemed far away , but vaguely familiar. “Are you
alright, son?” Dr. Gerald Mason , Chief of Surgery at FC Mercy, had
been expecting the young man, now standing in the center of the ER
waiting area looking as if he could collapse at any second.

After a moment, the haunted gaze seemed to disappear and imploring
hazel eyes fixed themselves on the physician. “Dr. Mason, how are
they?”

The siver-haired surgeon put a hand on Dunne’s shoulder and guided him
to a chair at the far end of the room. “Director Travis wanted me to
tell you that he was called back to the office when a lead on the
suspects, who may have done this, came in. He thought he could be more
help there, and knew you could handle things on this end.”

*Handle things!* JD nodded, not completely understanding why Travis
would leave, or why he would trust his youngest team member to the
‘handling’ of anything like this.  JD wasn’t sure he trusted himself.
“The guys?” he asked again.

Gerry smiled and let his hand remain on JD’s arm as they sat down.
“Josiah should be out of the trauma bay soon. His arm was knicked
pretty good by a bullet, and he banged his head when he fell, but you
know how thick-skinned he is.”

The kid couldn’t help but to smile just a little as Mason’s soothing
voice, and jovial manner, started to calm his frazzled nerves. “Nate’s
x-rays turned out fine. I think his shoulder is just bruised and that’s
to be expected when a man of Josiah’s size tackles you to the ground.”
The doctor’s smile faultered and he held JD’s gaze. “They were facing
the opposite direction of the car. It gave them a chance to react,
before the spray of bullets reached them.” Gerry swallowed hard,
wondering at how these men, these patients, had become to mean a great
deal to him. “Buck and the others weren’t so fortunate.”

The doctor had dealt with the Seven for three years now, treating
various injuries and illnesses. They were as close as any family he’d
seen, and no one member was more evident of their success as a
functioning unit, than the young man sitting infront of him now.

JD had flourished in the care of the group, and Mason couldn’t imagine
what would become of the potential he saw behind the soulful hazel
eyes, if any member of the family was lost. Especially, if Wilmington
was lost. So it was with great trepidation that he continued. “Ezra and
Chris are out of surgery. I didn’t work on them, but my top interns
did, and I have great confidence in their recoveries.  Ezra caught a
round in the left side which caused some damage to his kidney.Luckily,
it was nothing that we couldn’t fix, and he shouldn’t see any permanent
side-effects.”

JD bit his lower lip as he listened to the doctor and fought back the
tears that he could feel beginning to sting his eyes. He wouldn’t break
down. He had to be the strong one this time; but  Mason’s words were
giving life to the terrible scene that had played out in the darkened
alley behind the saloon and Dunne could imagine it all too well.

“Chris took a hit in the upper right chest cavity, which by the grace
of God, missed anything vital.  A piece of shrapnel lodged in his
collar bone but I was assured everything’s clear now. I’d say he’s
going to be his usual ‘spirited’ self when he wakes up. I hope you’re
up to taking him on.”

“Vin’s better at keeping him calm,” the words tumbled out of his mouth,
before JD could stop them. “He’s the only one Chris will listen to.”

Dr. Mason tighted his grip on JD’s arm. “Vin’s going to need some time
before he’s able to handle Mr. Larabee.”

“How bad?” JD asked, feeling much like someone caught in some terrible
dream.

“He was shot in the back twice. The automatic rounds did a real job on
him. He had a lot of internal bleeding, which Dr. Harris got under
control, but Vin lost a lot of blood, and you know that can cause
complications.”

“But he’s going to be alright?”

Gerald sighed and remembered why he hated that very question that he
heard so often. “I can’t give you any guarantees, son.  Vin is strong,
he’s in excellent physical condition, and he’s damn stubborn. All those
things are going to work in his favor.”
 

JD accepted that information, forcing himself to believe that his
friend had survived worse odds, and wouldn’t dare leave until he knew
how the rest of the team was. After all, the kid had no doubts that Vin
would be self-sacrificing, even on an unconscious level. It was just in
his nature.

The surgeon watched Dunne’s face set in determined lines and he knew
the kid was gathering the strength he needed to ask the next question.
The question he’d been avoiding.

“Buck?”

The despair in the young voice, and the incredibly youthful expression,
tore at the veteran physician’s heart. “I operated on Buck,myself, JD.”

*That can’t be good.* JD’s heart quickened. He knew Dr. Mason was the
best at what he did, but that meant that Buck ‘needed’ the best, and
that wasn’t something the kid wanted to hear.

“He was hit once in the leg and twice in the chest. The bullets bounced
around sort of like a pinball game.”The doctor lowered his gaze for a
moment and cleared his throat. “They broke some ribs, collapsed one of
his lungs and knicked the aorta. He was lucky to make it to the
hospital.”

JD felt sick for the second time that night.  He could feel a cold
numbing sensation starting at the base of his spine and climbing
towards the tip of his head. Fear crept slowly up his back and tried to
interweave itself with every fiber of his being, but JD fought it’s
control. For a moment, he wondered if this was how Chris felt everytime
one of his team was hurt. “What are his chances?”

Mason shook his head. “You know I don’t like to give odds, JD.”

“I need to know,” the kid snapped, pulling his arm out from under the
doctor’s hand.

“You know Buck better than I do.” The surgeon stated sympathetically.
“That should tell you more than anything I can venture at, son.”

Before JD could protest any further, a young nurse came over and told
Mason that he was needed in the OR.

“When can I see them?” Dunne asked, before Gerald could step away.

“Ezra and Chris are in the same room, 314, and Buck should be down from
recovery in the next thirty minutes or so. He’ll be going into ICU with
Vin.” The doctor placed a hand on the agent’s shoulder and give it a
quick squeeze. “Don’t lose faith, son, you seven have never failed to
amaze me.”

Once the surgeon walked away JD leaned back in his seat and squeezed
his eyes shut.  His head was reeling from the impossibility of what was
transpiring, and his world seemed to be spinning out of control. Never
had he felt so deserted, not even when his mother had died. Maybe it
was because he knew she was leaving him. He had never expected this.

What the hell was he going to do if he lost them?

He wanted to go see Ezra and Chris, to reassure himself that they were
really alive, but he couldn’t convince his body to move.  *God, Buck.*
JD couldn’t hold back the choked sob that escaped him, and he wasn’t
even aware of the tears that had found their way past his defenses,
until he tasted their warm saltiness on his lips.

The kid quickly brought his hands up to swipe at his eyes, when someone
caught his arm. “JD.”

At the ring of soft, deep voice hazel eyes flew open and Dunne was
never so happy to see anyone in his whole life as he was to see Josiah
Sanchez at that moment.  The big man man had a large white bandage on
his head and his right arm was in a sling, but to one scared ATF agent
, he was a beautiful sight. “God...Josiah..”

JD tried to speak, but his thoughts came out in a whisper, and he was
thankful when he found himself pulled into a crushing embrace, so that
he didn’t have to complete his sentence. “It’s alright, son,” Josiah
murmured, squeezing JD tighter to his chest
before letting him go.  The big man kept his uninjured hand on the back
of the kid’s neck, but pulled away some so he could look his teammate
in the eyes. “They’re going to be fine. All of them.”

“But, Doc Mason said that Buck and Vin ..”

“They’re going to be fine,” Sanchez stated again, interrupting Dunne’s
explanation, one Josiah had already heard from the surgeon earlier.  “I
have that on good authority.” The older man winked at JD and released
his hold on him.

JD nodded, and managed to wipe the last traces of tears away from his
face. “Nathan?” he asked. It seemed one word utterances was about all
he could manage around the huge lump that had taken up residency in his
throat.

“He’s gone to sit with Chris and Ezra; he didn’t want them waking up
alone.” Josiah stood up and offered JD his hand. “What do you say me
and you go check on Vin?”

Dunne took a deep breath and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
He had never needed a hand-up as much as he did at that moment. Almost
like a child, he found himself clinging to Sanchez for some kind of
guidance, but with a deep breath and a sad
smile he remembered he was a man and let go.
“Let’s do it.”

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

Chris felt as if he had been hit by a truck.  Every inch of his body
throbbed, especially his chest and shoulder, and he gasped in pain,
even before his eyes opened.

“Easy there,” Nathan Jackson had made it to his leader’s bedside at his
first signs of stirring.

“Nate?” The voice was weak and scratchy from disuse, but was all
business. “What happened?”

Jackson smiled, despite the situation. Leave it to Larabee to want a
report first thing.”Seems someone decided to relieve the city of our
presence.”

“Vin?!” Chris tried to sit up and instantly regretted it. He remembered
seeing the black sedan now, and feeling his bestfriend slam into him,
pushing them both to the pavement, just as bullets began to fly.“The
others?!” he gasped as Nathan pushed him back down as gently as
possible.

“They’re all alive, Chris. Try to take it easy.” Jackson winced as his
shoulder resisted the use it was taking to hold Larabee still. “You
just came out of surgery, and the doctors won’t be too happy if you
open up your stitches.”

The blond ATF agent finally relaxed back against his pillow, but his
blue-green eyes still searched Nathan’s features. “How bad?”

“Ezra’s going to be alright.” Nathan nodded to the other cot across the
room from them, where the Southerner still slumbered in a drug-induced
reprieve.
Chris followed his friends line of sight and sighed as some of the
weight was lifted from his shoulders.  He’d seen Ezra and Buck go down
before he’d blacked out.

Larabee’s cold gaze fell back on Jackson. “Tell me.”

“Josiah’s fine, just some scratches and bruises.” Nathan swallowed
hard. “Vin came out of surgery not long after you.  He had some
internal bleeding, but they got it stopped. He’s in ICU.”

Chris let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and
clenched his fist. Someone was going to pay for this.”Buck?”

“ He’s bad, Chris. The doctors ain’t too hopeful.”

“Damn.” Larabee closed his eyes and tried to get a grip on his
emotions. * Why the hell is this always happening?* A sudden though
forced it’s way into his mind, and he instantly focused on Jackson
again. “Shit....JD.”

“He’s here,” Nathan told him, laying his hand on his shoulder, just
incase Chris got any more foolish ideas. “Doc Mason told me he arrived
a few minutes ago.”

“I need to go see Vin and the kid,” Chris insisted, actually trying to
push himself up, “and Buck.”

“Are you crazy?” Nathan asked, harshly. “You ain’t going to see nothing
but an upclose view of  that floor if you try to stand up. Hurting
yourself isn’t going to help them.”

“They need me.”

“Exactly,” Jackson replied. “They need you to get your strength back,
to recooperate, so you can be there for them when it’s the right time.”

“My bestfriend’s in ICU, Buck may be dying, and JD,.” Chris took a
ragged breath and fought back the dizzy spell assaulting him, “the
kid’s got to be scared. ‘Now’ is the time.”

“Just give yourself a couple of hours, Chris,” Nathan tried, “and I’ll
see if the doctor will let me take you up.”

“Buck might not have a couple of hours, damn it.”

“Josiah will stay with Vin and you know he’ll come get us if things get
worse.” Jackson hoped that things wouldn’t get worse, as he attempted
another tactic. “Besides, Ezra will need looking after when he comes
to.  You know how he is.”

Chris didn’t look happy but he shifted his eyes once more to the
sleeping form of their partner. Standish hated hospitals almost as much
as Vin, and if he couldn’t help him, the least he could do was stay
with Ezra.  It would have been an impossible decision to make if Chris
had been afforded the opportunity to choose, but since he could already
feel his adrenaline born strength fading, he relented to wait. To wait,
and to pray.

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

The swoosh of a ventilator and the beeps of several machines assaulted
JD’s ears as he and Josiah entered the ominous intensive care unit.
Vin’s bed was near the window and his pale and bandaged form made the
kid hesitate in the doorway.  Josiah noticed and put a supportive hand
on his young partner’s shoulder, giving him a slight nudge.

Finally, JD convinced his feet to move and he found himself standing
near the sharpshooter. Vin looked so young when he was asleep and JD
realized that sometimes it was easy to forget that his friend was only
two years older than himself.  Buck never let the other forget though,
and JD almost smiled as he could practically hear Wilmington calling
Vin, ‘junior’. He’d started that little nickname about the same time
that Tanner had begun to use Buck’s full name of Bucklind.

The kid looked up in time to catch the sudden flash of emotion in
Josiah’s eyes as he pulled a chair near their friend. Their brother.
“He’s a fighter, JD.” Sanchez took one of Tanner’s hands in his own.
“Aren’t you, Vin?”

Dunne could only nod as he pulled up another seat, and took up sentry
by the sharpshooter’s bedside.

He wasn’t use to this.

Being the one who had to comfort, or worry.

He was usually the one hurt, causing his other teammate’s to worry.
And if he wasn’t injured, then one of the others was still there to
assure the patient.  And Buck was always there to assure JD.  Telling
him some stupid story or having him go on coffee runs with him to the
cafeteria.  Maybe that’s why he felt so completely lost at the moment.

Infact, he was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice
that the orderlies had rolled another patient in, until Josiah called
his name. “JD?”

The young agent looked up, some locks of his dark hair escaping from
the newspaper boys’ hat ,that he wore flipped around backwards, and
falling into his eyes. “Huh?”

Josiah gave him a half smile and nodded towards the door. Dunne stood
as he saw his bestfriend being attatched to numerous monitoring
machines, and IV’s. “Go sit with him,” Sanchez told him. “Vin and I
will be fine.”

JD didn’t even look back at the older agent as his gaze stayed fixed on
the man infront of him.  Despite what Buck would have claimed was
impossible, Dunne thought his roommate looked terrible. The wires,
tubes, and bandages that could be seen protruding from the thin sheet
did nothing to ease JD’s worries either, as he manuevered around a
nurse to finally make contact with his friend.

Buck’s hand was so cold and for a moment JD’s chest tightened; but a
glance at the heart monitor assured him that his big brother was still
in the land of the living.

“I’ll have no antics from you two this time, young man.”  Dunne glanced
up to catch a rare smile cross Nurse Summersby’s face. Clara Summersby
had been a nurse at FC’s Mercy since she was eighteen and Buck had once
joked that he was sure that was back at the turn of the century, and
that’s why she was so crabby, and unaffected by his ‘animal magnetism’.
 JD just thought she was mean.

“Last time that one of you were in my ICU , you turned it into a
circus, and I won’t have that again, you here.” Dunne nodded, more
interested in what Clara was doing to Buck than her words. The petite
black-haired woman checked the oxygen mask on Wilmington’s face and
then placed another piece of tape over the IV in his arm. She then
turned intense green eyes on JD. “He did real good in surgery. His lung
is holding up, and I’m sure he has no intentions of letting you grow up
without him.”

“I am grown up,” JD whispered,half-heartedly,  feeling much more like
the kid everyone took him for than the twenty-five year old man he was.
 

Clara sighed. “To me, dear boy, you both are still babies.” The nurse
picked up her clipboard and gave JD one more look. “I have no intention
of arguing with you about regular visiting hours, so as long as you’re
quiet, you can stay.”

Dunne nodded again and sat down in one of the chairs by Buck’s bed. It
was good Nurse Summersby didn’t want to argue, because JD had no
intentions of leaving. He squeezed the much too-cold hand he was
holding  in both of his. At least not until Buck woke up and told him
that everything was alright. Only then would he begin to believe the
nightmare was over.

*******************************************************
Thirty-six hours, fourty-two minutes, and six long seconds later, the
dream was still occurring.  JD had not budged from beside Wilmington’s
bedside, except for necessity trips to the restroom and for one thirty
minute stint, when Nathan had drug him to
the cafeteria and forced him to eat, per orders from Chris Larabee.

Vin had been taken off the ventilator earlier that day, and to
everyone’s delight had woke up asking for Chris. He told JD later that
it had been the bad jokes he had insisted on telling to the unconscious
Wilmington and the outlandish stories he constantly rattled out that
had finally driven him from his restful state.  The kid had merely
grinned and went back to Buck’s bedside to keep up the one-sided
conversation. If it had worked for Vin, maybe it was doing Wilmington
some good.

Unfortunately, it had been twelve hours since Vin awoke, and there was
still no signs of Buck waking.

Nathan had told JD that Ezra was awake too, and had asked about him.
The kid felt bad for not going to see his other partners, but knew they
would understand.

Casey had called twice, but JD hadn’t had the time to talk. Josiah had
assured him that Casey understood, but at the moment Dunne couldn’t
spare the energy to worry about that.

The Judge had been by several times, as had most of the Denver’s ATF
office, and countless other law officials. They all wanted to show
their support, and to assure the seven that all was being done to find
the people responsible for what had happened. None of them had been
allowed in the ICU. That was only for family, so JD had been kept up to
date by Josiah, or Nathan.  So far, no leads had panned out, and the
bastards responsible were still at large.

JD ran a hand through his long dark hair and tried to push away the
negative thoughts, replacing them with images of taking down the people
responsible himself. Him and the rest of the Seven. All of them.
Together. They would find justice, just like they always did.

The agent looked wearily up at the clock and seen that it was nearly
three in the morning. His gaze fell back to the man on the bed infront
of him and he sighed. “Hey, Buck, have I told you the one about the
three pieces of string?”

JD grinned, knowing good and well, that he had.

“Well, there were these three pieces of string you see, and they
decided to stop at this bar to have a drink. Well, they mosey on in and
right up to the bar, but the bartender gives them a mean look and says,
‘We don’t serve strings here. You’ll have to move on.’ Well, the three
strings leave, but one of them ain’t very happy about it.”

JD licked his dry lips and continued. “Once he and his friends get back
outside, he tells them he’s going back in. So, he ties himself into a
knot and frays the top of his head so the bartender won’t recognize
him. He marches right up to the bar, again, and demands a drink.”

Dunne stifled a yawn and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes before
finishing. “Well the bartender looked at him real suspicious like and
said, ‘Ain’t you one of those strings that was just in here?’ The
string shook his head and said. ‘No. I’m a frayed knot!’ Get it, a
‘fraid’ not?” JD laughed slightly to himself, but got no response from
his bestfriend.

“Come on, Buck, that’s one of your favorites.” JD pleaded, fighting to
keep his eyes open, unwilling to get any sleep until Buck had awoken.
“How ‘bout some cow jokes? You really hate those, I know you do. Let’s
see, how ‘bout this one?”

JD layed his head down on the side of the bed, but continued to talk.
“What do you call a transvestite cow?    A Dairy Queen. “ The kid
didn’t have the energy to laugh so he just rambled on. “Why did the
farmer’s stool only have three legs?  ‘Cause... the.. cow ..had the
udder.”

JD’s long eyelashes fluttered and his grip around Buck’s hand loosened
slightly. “What ..do..you .call ...a ...cow ...who’s just...given
...birth?”  ‘Decaffeinated’ was barely out of the kid’s lips, before he
was finally pulled into the arms of oblivion
 

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

That’s how Chris found him.  JD was sound asleep, his upper body
resting on the bed near Buck’s still form, one of his hands encirlcling
Buck’s the other tucked under his own head. Larabee had escaped
Josiah's watchful eye after Ezra had put the big man to sleep with one
of his stories of intrigue,just like they'd planned, and had gone to
check on the rest of his men.

The kid was so exhausted that he didn’t even stir when Larabee,
hardened veteran agent that he was, reached out a hand and pushed the
dark hair out of the kid’s face, letting his fingers linger on the soft
tresses for just a moment.  Sometimes, the youngest of his team really
made him miss being a father, and it was in those times that he was so
thankful he’d vowed to give JD a chance with his group, on that fateful
day almost four years ago now.  In the same instance, it was a time
when he wanted nothing more than to go back and kick himself for
allowing the kid to be placed
in such danger.

“Can’t... believe...he finally fell asleep,” a tired, groggy, but very
welcomed voice pulled Chris from his musings. Buck was looking at him
now, with a slight smile on his pale features. “I didn’t think he’d
ever...stop ..talkin’.”

“Hey, Pard,” Larabee grinned, unable to express the immense relief that
washed over him. He was afraid he’d never see that stupid grin again.

“Hey, yourself,” Wilmington winced slightly as he tried to move. “Ahh,
what the hell hit us?”he asked softly.

“You mean besides old age,” Chris replied. “It’s harder than it use to
be to out run bullets, you know. Automatics are a real bitch.”

Buck closed his eyes for a moment and sunk back against the pillows, as
flashes from the bar assaulted him. “The guys?” he asked.

“Everyone’s fine. We’ve been waiting on you to blow this joint.”
Chris’s voice was still low, but Wilmington could easily read the
emotion.

“I took the worst of it, huh?” Buck opened his eyes.

“You’ve been out for almost two days.”

Wilmington looked down at the uncomfortable position his bestfriend was
attempting to sleep in and then back at Chris. “Kid been here the whole
time?”

“Would he be anywhere else?” Larabee raised an eyebrow, as if Buck had
asked an incredibly rediculous question.

Chris lifted his hand to wake JD but Buck stopped him. “Chris... can I
have a minute..alone with him?”

Larabee smiled and gave his oldest friend a knowing nod. “Sure, I have
some unfinished business with you current roommate.”

Buck watched their leader turn around and carefully start for the bed
he now saw was occupied by Vin Tanner. A grin reached his lips as he
realized that the Chris he was just talking to could have easily been
the same Chris he’d known before the car bombing that took Sarah and
Adam.

Until three years ago, Buck couldn’t really understand how losing a
certain person, or certain people could destroy a man. Or how finding
another, could repair your soul.   But that was before he’d had a
family of his own.  Before the seven came along. Before one lanky
sharpshooter had found Chris Larabee. And before one JD Dunne had
landed in his life.

Buck took a shallow breath and used what little strength he had to lift
his hand and let it rest a top his bestfriend’s head. “JD?” he said
softly.

The kid stirred and mumbled something about a three-legged dog, but
didn’t wake.

“Kid?” Buck tried again, letting his hand stroke the younger man’s
hair. “Time to wake up, son.”

Finally, JD turned his head, and sleepy hazel eyes peered up at
Wilmington, as if still lost in some dream. “Buck?” A smile slowly
touched the corners of the younger agent’s lips, as recognition set in.
“You’re awake!”

“That depends,” Buck moved his hand so the kid could sit up, “on if you
are going to start tellin’ jokes again or not.”

“I thought you’d never wake up,” JD said, breathlessly. “At least, I
was afraid that..I mean.. I was so..”

Wilmington brought his hand up again, this time letting it cover the
kid’s lips. “I know. Me too.”

JD caught his hand and grasped it in his. “I’m sorry,” he said,
earnestly.

“For what?” Buck asked.

Dunne locked eyes with his brother. “For not being there. For being out
at some stupid party when you and the others needed me.”

“JD,”Wilmington squeezed the hand holding his, and waited for the
younger agent to look at him. “The only thing remotely good about this
whole situation is that you weren’t there, kid. I thank God you weren’t
there.”

JD smiled again. “I just wish you’d all decided to come skiing with
me.”

“That’s just what college kids want these days as chaperones, a bunch
of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms agents.” Buck grinned.

“Maybe that’s why no one seemed to mind that I left.”

“Maybe,” Wilmington agreed, and then a hint of his usual
mischieviousness crept into his eyes. “On second thought, you weren’t
telling any of those jokes were you?”

JD squeezes the hand in his again. “Are you kiddin’. Those are only for
you and the guys.”

“I’m glad you hold us in such high regards,” Buck says, and JD notices
his eyes are starting to drift shut again.

“The highest,”the kid replies, reaching out to let his hand rest on his
big brother’s face. The roles are truly reversed this time.

“Get some rest, kid,” Wilmington tells him.

“Later,” JD counters, and can’t help to smile when Buck gives him an
exasperated look.
 

“I’m fine, JD. I ain’t going anywhere.”

“I know,” the young agent’s grin fades, “I just don’t want to be
alone.” That statement is truthful almost to the point of pain.

Wilmington’s eyes flutter open and he looks concerned, as if he knows
JD's hurting, but the medication is pulling him back to a restful
state. Still, before he goes under, he does the one thing he’s sure he
is meant to do. He takes care of JD.

“You’re never alone, kid. Never.”