PART 3

Chris Larabee made his way along the hospital corridor, pausing just outside Room 347. J.D.’s room. At 2 a.m., only a sparse number of nurses quietly greeted the ATF leader, but that was the way he wanted it. He’d been uncharacteristically emotional over the events of the past 24 hours, and he actually had to summon up courage to go inside. What the hell is wrong with me?

He pushed open the door slowly, the room, thank God, was dark and quiet. Chris smiled sadly when he spotted Buck on the too small couch next to the window, fully dressed, his knees curled up to his chest out of necessity, totally dead to the world. Chris moved like a shadow, closer to J.D.’s bed. He’d looked in on him once in ICU after the kid had gotten out of surgery, but he hadn’t stayed long. He couldn’t deal with the desolation of the others as they waited, so he ducked out.

Chris had spent the rest of the day in the office, his door locked and the blinds pulled. Even after the other employees had gone home, Chris stayed. Sleep eluded him, so he’d written up the reports he knew his superiors would be screaming for by morning. As he’d typed in the words, his mind was forced to relive those horrifying minutes that seemed to last an eternity.

Putting it all down helped a little at the time, but now his heart sunk all over again as he moved in closer and got a clear view of the tubes and monitors surrounding J.D.’s helpless frame as he lay on the narrow bed. J.D.’s face matched the pallor of the bleached sheets he lay on and Chris felt the weight of overwhelming grief and guilt wash over him. J.D. was there…where Chris knew he should have been instead.

He gripped the metal railing and stared at the young agent, wondering what had ever possessed him to let this…this kid, talk him into letting him join his world of violence and despair. Yeah, J.D.’d chosen his own path, but Chris couldn’t help but think he still would have gone on to better things if it weren’t for his intervention. J.D. was now content in following in the footsteps of men he looked up to, and as much as Chris despised the term, he realized the young agent thought of them all as some sort of heroes. Some hero, huh? Look at you. Look at what all that stinking bravado has got ya, kid.

He’d never thought about how much J.D. looked up to them all at first. And he didn’t realize until now just how much he admired this smart alec, little runt who had turned into a loyal and cherished friend. Now his life was Chris’ responsibility and his concern.

J.D.’s body twitched and he squeezed his already shut eyelids tighter as his head jerked as if in the throes of a nightmare. Chris lay a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder and J.D.’s eyes flew open, the dim light not hiding the panic in their depths.

"Chris!" J.D. fought at the sheets and tried to rip the oxygen tube from his nose, but Chris grabbed his hands.

"It’s ok, J.D., you’re safe." Chris felt his heart ripping as J.D. tried to focus on his words. Disbelief and confusion wrinkled the boy’s youthful features.

Chris stepped back slightly and motioned toward the couch. "See, Buck’s over there, snoring like a water buffalo, nobody’s gonna hurt you."

J.D. grasped Chris’ hand, amazing Chris with the strength he still possessed. J.D. moved his head to look at his friend’s sleeping form on the sofa. J.D. let out a weak, but relieved laugh and Chris felt the kid’s grip loosen and fall away.

"Try and go back to sleep." Chris pulled the discarded sheet over his shoulders, but J.D. shoved it off again.

"Too hot." J.D. closed his eyes and let his head sink back into the pillow. Chris was about to sit down again when a deep cough racked through J.D.’s body and he let out a pitiful cry from the effort.

"J.D.?"

"Ohhhh… Chris, I think I ripped something." J.D. yelled out louder this time and clutched his bandaged side, his jaw clenched and his breath hissed through his teeth in an effort to ride out the pain.

"You want me to call the nurse?" Chris asked the question, but already had the button pressed before J.D. nodded.

J.D. squeezed his eyes tight and bit his lip, but couldn’t seem to stop the low moan that escaped.

"They’re comin’, kid." Chris hated to see any of his men suffer, but J.D., well, it was almost like watching his own child sometimes. Why does everyone I get close to end up suffering for it? He put his hands on J.D.’s shoulders trying to keep him calm until the nurse got there.

"Chris?" Buck’s shaky voice caused Chris to look up as Buck leaned over J.D. from the other side.

"Hey, kid, what’s wrong?" Chris knew Buck was trying his best to hide the worry in his voice, but to him it shined like a beacon.

J.D. seemed to fight for each breath, his inhalations shallow and rapid, his eyes now wide with panic and agony.

"Shhhh, it’s all right." Buck touched the kid’s face, but his own blue eyes latched onto Chris. "He’s burning up."

A middle-aged nurse in aqua and pink scrubs decorated with cartoon dogs breezed in and politely moved Chris out of her way. She lay a well-manicured hand on J.D.’s forehead, her tone came out light and cheery. "What’s the trouble, honey?"

"Hurts…hurts so bad." J.D.’s voice was strained and raspy and she quickly checked the chart on his bed.

"You’re not due for another dosage for a half an hour, but let me check and see if I can give it to you now. Just try and relax, honey, I’ll be right back."

J.D. nodded, but began to beat the back of his head into the pillow and his muscles tensed and thrashed in protest of the vicious assault within his own body.

"Come on, kid, just try and ride it out, she’s gonna get you something to make you feel better, ok?" Buck’s voice cracked and Chris knew those few minutes would be just as difficult for Buck as they would be for J.D.

J.D.’s increasing distress was evident as he kicked absently at the covers with his right leg and sweat broke out along his forehead and on his upper lip. Chris knew his pain was getting worse, but J.D. needed to stay calm. "J.D., stop it, you’re gonna pull out a tube or somethin’ and hurt yourself worse." Chris tried to make his tone menacing, but he only heard the desperation he knew he felt.

Chris breathed a sigh of relief as the nurse returned with a syringe and quickly injected it into J.D.’s IV. She pulled aside the boy’s gown carefully and J.D. gasped as she peeled the bloody bandage away.

Chris couldn’t take his eyes off the precise scalpel mark across J.D.’s pale flank, the mottled red and purple bruises marring the skin surrounding the bullet wound. Chris focused in on the stitched and puffy hole oozing fresh blood and caught himself taking a step back. What is wrong with me? He’d never even flinched at the sight of blood, not ever. Yet J.D. looked so scared, so terribly hurt that Chris felt his head spin.

"That’s it, J.D., thatta boy." Chris watched as Buck smoothed the kid’s hair, relief flooding the mustached agent’s eyes as J.D. began to succumb to the medication and slip back into oblivion. Chris looked on the scene as if he were detached from his body and he sank into the chair before his knees gave out completely. What in the hell is wrong with me! His brain shouted at him, but he couldn’t explain his reaction.

"His fever’s over 101, I’ll send Dr. Howard in to check on him."

"Thank you, Ma’am." Chris heard the voices, but they sounded far away, like he was treading water, just under the surface of a pool and everyone was shouting at him.

"Chris? You all right?" Chris realized the nurse was gone, J.D. was sleeping and Buck towered over him, his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, just didn’t get much sleep last night." Chris hoped he sounded convincing. "How’s the arm?"

"Oh, barely feel it." Buck pulled a prescription bottle from his jacket pocket and smiled like a drunkard, his eyes glazed. "Wonders of science."

Chris let out a short laugh, realizing Buck was still very much feeling the effects of the painkillers.

"So, where’s that doctor." Buck absently jiggled the pills as he watched the door.

"Give him a minute, pard."

"I know, it’s just…God, I hate seeing him like that, Chris – drains the life right outta me." Buck’s tone quickly shifted again and Chris knew from experience his old friend on drugs was akin to being stuck on a runaway rollercoaster. A ride he just wasn’t up to taking right now.

"Go lay down, Buck. I’ll wake ya when the doctor comes in."

"Ok. Make sure you get me up if he isn’t here in the next 15 minutes, ok?"

"I will, Buck."

"You promise?"

"Buck, lay down and shut up."

Chris shook his head as Buck grinned again and flopped down on the too small sofa. "Night, mother."

Chris leaned back in the chair, propping his feet up on the metal workings of J.D.’s bed, careful not to disturb the kid’s drug-induced slumber. He tried to clear his head, figure out this mood he was in, but exhaustion took over and he began to drift.

PART 4

A faint glow penetrated Chris’ sleep, a low, steady growl made him sit upright and he almost tipped out of his chair as it rolled backwards. He swallowed hard, concentrating on the source of the sound before he realized it was coming from the speakers mounted on either side of his desk.

A dozen grizzlies slept in their dens on the monitor in front of him, snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

"Damn it, JD!" That kid was always changing his normal, business-like screen saver to some noisy, often disturbing image under the guise that Chris’ own tastes were a bit too boring. Can’t believe he actually called me boring! Nothing wrong with those flying logo things, nothing wrong with dressing the same everyday, so what, that didn’t make him boring.

Chris glanced at the digital clock on his desk, but the numbers all ran together. Ok, fine. It had to be really late or really early because the sun was gone and the outer officers were quiet. What did I come here to do? He couldn’t think and angrily clicked on the mouse to make the annoying bears disappear.

A noise from outside his open door made him jump and he quietly got up and peeked around the edge. A bright glow from J.D.’s cubicle reflected off the glass walls and he walked over to find out why the younger agent was there too.

"J.D." As Chris said the name, he realized the bespeckled face that greeted him was not J.D. In fact, he had no idea who the hell this man was.

"Just gettin’ an early start, you know making the ole desk a little more homey and all."

Chris drew his eyes to the man’s pointing hand. Indeed, J.D.’s pictures were gone, as were the computer books, the mountains of papers, the nerf football and the collection of toys and gadgets he and Buck were always fidgeting with – all replaced with neatness and professionalism.

"What the hell?" Chris stumbled on his words, dumbfounded.

"Sorry about Agent Dunne, Mr. Larabee, damn hard way to go out." The man shook his head in sympathy, but Chris immediately doubted his sincerity. "But he was pretty young and dare I say it…naïve, to be traipsing around with the likes of professionals like us."

"Who…are…you?" Chris spat out the words carefully, as if the man was a complete imbecile.

"Karl Mennard, don’t you remember? You hired me last week, after Mr. Dunne’s unfortunate run in with the Uzi. It’s understandable you might have blocked some things out, but…"

"What?" Chris felt his head swim, why was he so confused? He had no idea what this moron was talking about.

"I mean I never like to see an agent, a fellow brother in arms, shot down like that, but he shoulda known better. Que sera sera, a lesson for the ATF, of course, it’s too bad it had to be a fatal one for Mr. Dunne…"

If the man spoke any more Chris didn’t hear him. This couldn’t be true, he’d remember something like J.D. getting killed, no, this had to be some kind of mistake. Chris looked at Karl, whose lips were still moving and Chris reached out and put his palm across the irritating little man’s face and shoved. The chair, J.D.’s chair pitched backwards and dumped Mr. Mennard onto the floor of the cubicle, but didn’t stop his runaway mouth.

"I wasn’t blaming you!" Mennard scrambled to his feet and calmly brushed at his grey suit. "I know Wilmington and most of the department said it was your fault, but I don’t think you should have shouldered all the responsibility. I mean, he was a boy for Christ’s sake, this agency is a man’s domain, don’t you think? Have to blame the incompetent brass that hired him, right?"

Chris had to get out of there. He had a few calls to make, this couldn’t be true, he had to ask Buck. Chris stumbled back into his office, his head spun and his entire body shook as he reached for the phone. The bears had kicked back on again and he almost broke down. God, don’t let this be true, please. I’ll do anything, just don’t let J.D. be dead.

He held the receiver and he thought he heard J.D.’s voice on the other line. "J.D.! Thank God!" Silence, No, No, No.

"Chris. What’s wrong?" J.D.’s voice held more than a hint of concern and Chris knew something wasn’t right.

A sudden jolt and he opened his eyes. J.D. lay in bed, his eyes full of questions as he stared at Chris, and Buck’s loud rumbling echoed from across the room.

"What?"

"You were having a nightmare, Chris." J.D.’s face was pale and his eyes glazed over from the medication pumping into his veins, but the worry was evident.

Chris stood up, his back popping as he stretched his stiff and weary body and he walked over to J.D. He fought to control the tears of fear and relief as he gently cupped the top of the boy’s sweat-soaked head.

"You ok, Chris?" J.D.’s weakened words tore at his defenses and he nodded, afraid of the shakiness he knew would shine through if he tried to answer.

"That musta been…one hell of a nightmare." J.D.’s words slurred and his lids fluttered and closed again, unable to fight the effects of the painkillers any longer.

"It was, kid. It was."

*******

When J.D. awoke, the room was washed in late morning sunlight and he was completely confused. Then he began to remember. The terrifying standoff as Chris hovered over him, the pain and the fear began to play in his head as if someone pushed start on the VCR. He stared at the pristine blinds hanging on the windows and tried to make his mind stop the replay.

"J.D., you all right?" Nathan’s deep voice right next to his ear made him jump and he winced as he felt a painful tug in his side.

"Nathan?" J.D. wasn’t sure if the healer was real or just another part of the tape.

"Yeah, son, just relax." Nathan lay a wide palm across J.D.’s forehead and grinned. "I think your fever’s down some."

J.D. tried to focus, but the room was beginning to pitch and roll and he squeezed his eyes shut before the motion made him throw up.

"How ya feelin’?" Nathan’s tone was soft and sincere and J.D. wanted to tell him the truth. That his throat felt like it was wrapped in sandpaper, his head throbbed with every beat of his heart and his side, oh man, his side felt like he’d been impaled to the bed. The slightest movement sending jolts of agony through the length of his body.

"I’m fine." J.D. opened his eyes to see if Nathan was falling for his lie, then tried a weak laugh at the look on his friend's face. A deep, ripping pull stopped him short. He felt the pressure of something solid buried in his side and a surge of hysteria washed over him.

Before Nathan had a chance to stop him, J.D. pushed down the sheet and pulled aside the gown revealing his heavily bandaged side, letting out a horror filled gasp at the tube snaking wickedly from his flank.

"Nathan!" J.D. heard his voice rise from the panic in his heart. "Oh, my God, Nathan!"

"It’s ok, J.D." Nathan moved in and gently pushed J.D. back onto his pillow. "It’s just a drain, keeps the wound irrigated."

J.D. leaned back, but couldn’t take his eyes off the hideous protrusion and suddenly knew how a lab rat felt.

"Are they …" J.D. could barely get the words out, because he was deathly afraid of the answer. "Will they take it out?"

"Yeah, J.D., it ain’t permanent."

J.D. eased his head into the pillow and let out the breath he’d been holding, a soft sigh coming with it. When he first saw that, that, thing, he was terrified that it was a permanent fixture, a colostomy or something like that. God, his heart pounded so fast in his ears he couldn’t think.

"The bullet tore through the bowel, they patched you up fine. Just real easy to get infected so they had to put in the drain." J.D. heard Nathan, but the terrifying thought that he’d lost a huge hunk of his intestines still weighed on his mind. "You were lucky, J.D., the bullet missed your kidney."

Oh, yeah, I’m one lucky dog. J.D. felt nauseous, but he didn’t move as his eyes went back to the drain in his side.

"J.D.?" Nathan’s concerned face became blurry and his voice far away as J.D.’s vision swirled with black spots and he knew he was passing out. Don’t be a wimp, he thought as his world went dark.

*******

Nathan repositioned J.D.’s head on the pillow, but didn’t try to rouse him. Actually he couldn’t believe he’d stayed awake that long with as much morphine as he had in his system. He reached to pull J.D.’s gown over the wound, pausing, finding it hard to take his own eyes off the evil-looking contraption. No wonder it about scared the kid half to death. The older agent sighed and carefully positioned the thin cloth over the bandages and pulled the sheet over his sleeping friend’s chest.

"Poor kid." Nathan’s heart ached for him, the suffering he’d been through already and the pain he knew was yet to come. He affectionately patted the young man’s shoulder before turning and grabbing his book from the tiny sofa. He plopped down and began to read, yet, his mind refused to get back into the Tom Clancy novel and he quickly shut the cover.

Nathan plumped up the pillows Buck had discarded from his vigil the last two days and nights, resting his weary shoulders against their softness. He stretched his long arms over his head and shut his eyes, trying to relax enough to finally get some sleep, confident J.D. was out for a while. But sleep also eluded him.

It had been three days since the ‘incident’ as the feds referred to it.

J.D. was doing better today, after a raging fever and a trip back to the OR to place the drain the day before. All the guys had hovered around well into the evening, all except Chris. It hadn’t escaped anyone’s attention that Chris hadn’t been in to see J.D. since the night the boy had been moved from ICU to his room, but none of them were willing to confront Chris about his motivations. Nathan knew the ATF leader was always a bit reserved, especially so after one of his men was hurt, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on that was eating away at the man.

Nathan had wanted to pry a little out of him when he’d stopped in earlier to get Buck, but Chris hadn't revealed much. Chris asked how the kid was doing, gave a quick glance at J.D. as he slept, but he didn’t stay any longer than it took to get Buck and get out. He’d told Nathan to stay with J.D. while he and the others took care of the Slade Monday matter, promising a reluctant Buck he’d bring him back within a few hours.

Nathan inwardly shuddered as his mind wandered to the case. The Monday clan was a small group of drug and gun smugglers from Mexico. They’d been around since the early seventies, called themselves the Scorpions; the old-timers in the bureau called them Satan’s Scorpions. Nathan had heard a lot of horror stories of agents and their run-ins with this brutal gang, some from Chris and Buck who had already lost friends and more than one night’s sleep in dealing with them. Chris was none too happy when the Seven were recruited to battle against what amounted to a conglomeration of murdering inbreeds that no one in the entire U.S. government could stop. The fiasco at the warehouse was Nathan’s first encounter with the Scorpions and their tactics and he prayed it’d be their last. Of course, he knew better than that, just a bit of wishful thinking.

Nathan’s thoughts were interrupted by a short moan and his eyes flew to the bed beside him. The older agent watched as J.D. shifted slightly then settled back into a fitful slumber. Nathan couldn’t shake the sinking feeling J.D. was simply the first on the list of casualties the Scorpions would hand down onto their little family. Nathan closed his eyes and leaned back again, yep, maybe it was time to think about changing careers to something nice and safe or maybe he should just retire early and move to Maui.