Washoe-2002
Jenny continued to monitor her patient as the OR was set up. Cutbacks were always happening and this hospital was no different from any of the others. What bothered her most about cutbacks was that the patients were the ones to suffer. She looked up as the door opened and Derrick Barrett entered.
The trauma team leader checked his patient and was glad to see he’d stabilized with the IV fluids and blood transfusion running into his arm. X-rays confirmed that the right hip was broken and would need to be repaired by an orthopaedic surgeon. He’d placed a call for the surgeon on call and knew the man was on his way. The knife had been removed from the shoulder, and they’d managed to get the bleeding stopped. There were also a total of three broken ribs, two on the right side and one on the left. The one on the left had punctured Larabee’s lung and they’d had to insert a chest tube to reinflate the collapsed lung. They’d started him on a strong antibiotic to help the infection raging through some of his wounds. He listened to the left side of his patient’s chest and looked up as the door opened.
“OR is ready for him, Doctor Barrett,” Debbie, a second team nurse told him.
“It’s about bloody time,” he said, shaking his head at the reality of government funding. “Sorry,” he apologized as he walked to the door. “Get him ready,” he ordered as he hurried towards the surgical wing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vin opened his eyes and turned towards the sound beside him. He groaned as the move set off the fireworks inside his skull. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but didn’t open his eyes.
“Easy, Mr. Tanner, just keep your eyes closed.”
“Damn,” he gasped as his stomach churned.
“Are you nauseas?”
“Yeah,” he moaned.
“I’m going to give you a shot of Zofran to help that. How’s your head?”
“Ready to ex...plode.”
“Okay, I’m giving you Zofran and Morphine. It shouldn’t take long to work.”
“Th...anks,” he said and waited for the drugs to enter his system.
“You’re welcome.”
He sank into the pillows and a frown formed on his forehead as memory returned. He knew better than to move his head, but he forced his eyes open. A petite blond stood beside his bed, sympathy for his plight etched on her face. “My friend came in with me. Is he okay?”
Bernice knew about the man who came in with her patient and had kept updated on what was happening with him. She looked at the young man in the bed and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Larabee was taken to surgery about an hour ago. There’s no word on his condition as yet.”
“Damn, can you k...keep checking for me.”
She smiled at the concern in the wonderful blue depths and nodded her head. “I left word at the desk to let me know when your friend is out of surgery. Now why don’t you relax and let that medication help you.”
Vin knew it was useless to fight the oncoming lethargy and relaxed against the pillows. He knew he wouldn’t sleep very deeply until he knew how Chris Larabee was doing. “You’ll wake me as soon as you hear anything?”
“Of course,” Bernice assured him and watched as he relaxed towards sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Josiah pulled to a stop in one of the few empty parking spaces at the back parking lot of the Washoe Medical Center. The drive had seemed to take forever and a sigh of relief left each man when they’d come to the city limits. That relief was short lived as they raced into the emergency department and stepped up to the desk.
Josie O’Neill shifted slightly back from the desk when the five disheveled men hurried towards her. She looked at each man as they came closer and realized she was shorter than the youngest one. ‘Oh, shit,’ she thought as the intimidating men came towards her. She placed her hands on her hips, not willing to show them just how nervous she was.
“Can I help you?” she asked, smiling as her voice came out strong and steady in spite of her rattled nerves.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jackson said. “we’re looking for a couple of friends who came in five or six hours ago...”
“Their names?”
“Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee,” Sanchez answered.
“Are you family?”
“About the only family those two have,” the ex-preacher explained. “Look, Ma’am, you can check with Saint Vincents hospital in Billings Montana and they’ll explain it. We’re listed as their legal next of kin.”
Josie nodded, moved to the computer and quickly typed in the three letter first name... “How do you spell Tanner?”
“T. A. N. N. E. R,” Standish answered.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling sheepish that these men unnerved her enough that she couldn’t spell such an easy name. “Mr. Tanner is in ICU...”
“What? Why?” Dunne asked.
“Mr. Tanner is suffering from a severe concussion, broken collarbone, a slightly elevated temperature and he’s dehydrated. He should be moved to a regular room tomorrow if all goes well.”
“What about Chris Larabee?”
Josie looked at the man who’d asked the question. She saw the deep seeded pain in the blue eyes, the worry etched on the handsome face, the firm set of the jaw and knew this man cared deeply for his friend. Again she typed in the name, this time getting it right the first time. “Mr. Larabee is in surgery at this time and was listed in critical condition when he was taken up.”
“Dammit!” Buck snapped, frustration, anger and exhaustion sapping his usual flare for the ladies.
“Easy, Buck,” Standish said as he placed a hand on Wilmington’s shoulder. “Ma’am, Josie,” he said reading her nametag. “Can you tell us where the ICU is?”
“Third floor, but please...” anything else she wanted to say was lost as the five men hurried towards the bank of elevators opposite the nursing desk.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Buck punched the button between the two elevator doors and waited impatiently for one of them to arrive. He knew the others were just as anxious as he was to see Vin Tanner, yet he also felt the tension and worry they felt for the man being operated on. He smiled as JD reached out and punched the button once more, relieved when the door opened on their floor. Two men dressed in white lab coats stepped out, frowning as five men stepped inside before they’d completely exited the elevator.
Ezra punched the button for the third floor and felt his stomach drop as the car moved upwards. He looked at the others in the elevator with him and knew his face must look as haggard as theirs did. Dark circles were present around each set of eyes and the grim look was mirrored on each man’s face. He hit the door open button as the elevator came to a stop.
The nursing station across from the elevators was bustling with activity as nurses set about getting things ready to turn over to the next shift. Meds were delivered to patients in need of them. Files were being completed and updated to make sure things ran smoothly on the night shift. Nurses and doctors collaborated on what was to be done for each new admission. The five men closed the distance on the desk just as two familiar names were spoken.
“Yeah, Betsy, you can tell Mr. Tanner, Mr. Larabee is out of surgery and should be brought down in half an hour. We’re setting up a room for him now.”
“Excuse me!” Standish interrupted the two nurses.
“Can I help you, Sir?” the nurse who’d been talking asked as she came to stand in front of the group of men.
“Yes, Ma’am, we’re here about Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner,” Josiah answered.
“Are you related?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Jackson answered and smiled as the woman frowned at him.
“You are?” she asked and realized how her words sounded. “I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Again he smiled, seeing the truth of her words in her brown eyes. “We’re listed as their next of kin,” he explained and saw the woman return his smile. “My name’s Nathan Jackson. This here’s Buck Wilmington, Josiah Sanchez, JD Dunne, and Ezra Standish.” He pointed to each man as he introduced them before meeting the nurse’s gaze once more. “How are they?”
“Mr. Tanner is in guarded condition and is resting comfortably,” she answered.
“Chris?” Dunne asked.
“Mr. Larabee came through surgery and should be down in half an hour.”
“Any word on how Mr. Larabee is?” Standish asked.
“He’s listed as critical. That’s all I can tell you right now.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Sanchez said. “Can we see Vin Tanner?”
She turned to the nurse she’d been talking to and called her name. “Betsy, these men are here for Mr. Tanner. Can they see him?”
Betsy walked around the desk and scrutinized the five men. Their clothes were dirty and stained with what could only be blood. She shook her head as she looked at them.
“Gentlemen, you can see him as soon as you clean up. I can get you some scrubs if you don’t have anything...”
“We’ve got a change of clothes with us,” Dunne interrupted.
“I’ve got a few things to set up with Mr. Tanner before you can see him anyway. Why don’t you get your clothing and clean up a bit. When you’re finished check here at the desk and someone will point out Mr. Tanner’s room.”
“Is there anywhere we can wash up?” Wilmington asked softly. He hadn’t spoken until now, the lump in his throat seemed to be restricting his air supply.
“There’s a waiting room on the second floor for family members that has showers. Just get off on the second floor and ask at the desk.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Sanchez said as he led the others back to the elevator.
Betsy watched them go and walked towards the room where Vin Tanner was sleeping. She stepped up to the bed and noted the slight flush of fever on his face. She made sure the leads connected to his body were still in place before checking his vitals and recording them in his chart. She moved to replace the bag of IV fluid running into his arm when she noticed a pair of tired blue eyes looking up at her. She checked to make sure the IV was running properly before turning her attention to the young man.
“Hello, Mr. Tanner...”
“Vin.”
“Okay, Vin, how are you feeling?”
“Better...head’s not so bad.”
“That’s good. How’s your stomach?”
“Not too bad,” he answered. “Any word?” he asked, knowing she’d know what he was asking.
“Mr. Larabee is out of surgery. He’ll be coming down here shortly. That’s all I know right now.”
“T...thanks,” Vin said as he let his eyes slide closed.
“Vin, Your friends are here.” She smiled as the blue eyes opened and looked anxiously around.
“Where?”
“I told them they had to get cleaned up before they could see you. They’ve gone to the family room and I’m sure they’ll be here as soon as they’re done. You just lie back and rest until they get here.”
Vin simply nodded and closed his eyes. He felt sleep beckoning him and gave up fighting it.
Betsy smiled as she watched him drift off to sleep. She finished checking the IV and hooked up the antibiotics ordered by Dr. Milano. She checked her patient one last time and left the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~`
Buck knew he’d probably beaten the fastest shower time in the Guinness Book of World Records, but he didn’t care. The first layer of dirt was off him and he actually felt human again. The hot water managed to loosen his stiffened muscles and for that he was grateful. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. He looked into the mirror and straightened his hair as he heard the shower next to his turn off. He turned to see Nathan Jackson grab a towel from the rack.
“Nate, I’m headin’ back up.”
“All right, Buck, we’ll see you there in a few minutes.”
“You might want to come lock the door after me,” he said and smiled as Jackson wrapped the towel around his midsection and came out of the shower. Buck hurried to the door, knowing the others would look after his things. He walked down the long hallway, amazed at how quiet it was even for a hospital. He reached out and opened the fireproof doors and stepped into a busier corridor. He hurried to the elevators and pressed the up button. The doors opened immediately and he stepped inside, nodding to the young couple standing at the back as he pressed the third floor button. The elevator ride up to the next floor seemed to take forever, actually took less than ten seconds. He hurried out before the doors were halfway open.
He stepped up to the desk and waited for the nurse to turn towards him. He watched her as she finished a conversation on the phone, but his eyes were drawn to activity a short distance down the hallway. He pushed away from the desk and walked towards the stretcher. A doctor, still dressed in surgical garb stood beside the stretcher. He was speaking to the two nurses as they moved the stretcher towards a room where another nurse stood just inside the door. He stood outside the door as the gurney came towards him. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, even the movement of the doctor’s mouth and the words that came out were garbled as Buck Wilmington caught sight of a wisp of sandy blond hair and the pale face of his friend. All he could see was the upper portion of the face, the ventilator tube running into Chris Larabee’s mouth, and the NG tube hid most of the lower portion. A thin sheet covered Larabee’s legs and torso, yet he could see the marks left by Maguire’s madness. ‘God, Chris, that son of a bitch died to quick,’ he thought and frowned as he heard a soft whisper. ‘Just be glad he’s dead.’ He knew where the words came from and he smiled inwardly. The smile disappeared as the stretcher passed by and was pushed into the room. The door was closed and he could no longer see what was happening in the room because of the closed curtains.
“Buck, are you okay?”
Wilmington turned to see Josiah Sanchez standing behind him. He knew he’d seen who was in the room and that the ex-preacher understood exactly how he felt.
“I’m fine, Josiah. I...I just saw them bringing Chris in here and needed to see him. He’s not looking too good right now.”
Josiah placed a hand on the ladies’ man’s shoulder and forced him to look at him. “We all know what it’s like in ICU, Buck. Sometimes the things needed to keep a man alive can seem overwhelming and take away a man’s dignity, but they don’t diminish who that man is.” He stopped as a man walked towards them.
“Doc, how is he?” Buck asked before the doctor could step past him.
“Are you relatives of Mr. Larabee?” Barrett asked tiredly, frowning as three more men came towards him.
Josiah smiled at the question, knowing it was routine to ask it. “Yes, Sir, we are.”
Barrett looked at the group and smiled. He was always amazed at the different family members he saw in ICU and this one was no different, except for its diversity. He knew these men were here out of friendship and pointed to a door across the hall.
“Why don’t you gentlemen wait for me in there? I’m just gonna leave orders at the desk and then I’ll come speak with you. Give me five minutes,” he said and hurried to the desk.
Josiah led the way to the room and opened the door. The waiting room was empty and they sauntered in, sinking tiredly into chairs to wait for the doctor. A small TV in the corner was turned on and showed different areas of the hospital. No one paid attention to the tiny screen. The door opened and the doctor entered the room and took a seat across form Buck Wilmington.
“Gentlemen, I’m Derrick Barrett, I’m head of the trauma team that worked on Mr. Larabee.”
“How is he, doc?” Wilmington asked.
“He’s listed as critical right now. He’s got a lot of facial bruising, but there’s nothing broken. A knife wound in his right shoulder that’s caused some muscle damage. He’s got a total of three broken ribs, two on the right side, one on the left. The left lung was punctured and we’ve inserted a chest tube on that side.” The physician watched each face as he ran down the list. He knew his voice sounded cold, but he’d learned better than to show his emotions in front of family and friends of his patients. He also knew his wife of fifteen years would be his shoulder to lean on after a heavy day like today. The man he’d just operated on had been tortured and he, himself had been a victim of torture at an early age. It was one of the reasons he became a doctor, to help people who’d been treated as badly as he was. There was little doubt that Chris Larabee had suffered more than he had.
“Doc, are you all right?” Sanchez asked.
Barrett took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. One of our best orthopaedic surgeons, Dr. Hastings, performed an open reduction, internal fixation on Mr. Larabee’s hip.”
“Pins, or did he have to replace the joint?”
Barrett looked at the soft spoken man and wondered about his knowledge. “Pins, Mr....”
“Jackson, Sir, Nathan Jackson.”
“Well, Mr. Jackson, you must know something about medicine.”
“Not as much as I’d like to,” Jackson answered.
“Nathan’s a paramedic,” Dunne told him.
“You boys make our jobs a little easier,” Barrett’s words were spoken honestly and he once more started explaining about Larabee’s injuries. “He’s also been caned...”
“Yeah, we saw that...”
Barrett looked into the blue eyes and serious moustached face and knew this man was hurting emotionally. Once again he wondered at the relationship, how close this group of men were. He knew they were friends, but somehow he also thought of them as brothers.
“Easy, Buck,” Sanchez soothed as he saw the anger in the set of the man’s jaw.
“I’m okay, Josiah.” Wilmington turned his attention back to the doctor. “What else?”
“Some of the marks actually drew blood and were infected. We’ve put him on a strong antibiotic for that. There were six puncture wounds that could only have been done by a sharp instrument, probably a needle similar in size of a large knitting needle. We cleaned those along with the other cuts on his body. He stopped breathing on the way in and we’ve got him on a ventilator...”
“For how long?” Standish asked.
“Two or three days. It depends on how well he responds to the medications and blood transfusions. We’ll begin to wean him off the ventilator tomorrow evening if everything goes okay. Look, gentlemen, he’s hurt, he’s weak and he’s dehydrated. I don’t like to sugar coat things and I won’t with you men. Mr. Larabee has a long fight ahead of him...”
“He won’t have to do it alone!” Jackson said.
Barrett smiled as the other four agreed with the medic. “You know, I’m glad you gentlemen are here for Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner.”
“Can you tell us anything about Vin?” Josiah asked hopefully.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Dr. Milano. She’ll be doing rounds in an hour, so just check with the desk. Now, before you ask, yes, you can visit Mr. Larabee, but make sure you keep it to two at a time...and...”
“Keep out of the way of the nurses,” JD finished for him.
Barrett smiled again as he looked at the men. “Sounds like you men have been through this before.”
“A time or two,” Wilmington answered as Barrett got up to leave. The five men shook hands with the doctor and thanked him for taking the time to speak with them. Buck turned to the others and spoke softly. “I’m going to see Chris,” he told them.
They knew he was worried about both men, but he’d known Chris Larabee most of his adult life and they could see how hard the choice was.
“I’ll come with you, Buck,” Sanchez told him.
“Thanks, Josiah,” the ladies man said and the two men left the room. They knew the others wouldn’t resent them for going first, it just wasn’t part of their nature.
Buck and Josiah entered the room to find a nurse checking Larabee’s vitals. The monitors beeped overhead and Buck heard the soft whoosh telling him the ventilator was providing air to Larabee’s lungs.
“Hello, I’m Anne Sheridan and I’m one of the nurses looking after Mr. Larabee. If you have any questions I’ll answer them as best I can,” the petite brunette told them as she continued to care for the patient.
“Thank you, Anne, I’m Josiah and this is Buck. Chris is a good friend,” Sanchez said as he watched Buck move closer to the bed.
She smiled as she watched the dark haired man tentatively reach for Larabee’s left hand. She knew he was nervous about the IV lines running into the blond’s arm and she moved towards him. She eased the patient’s hand up and placed it in the other man’s hand. “Contact is very important, Buck.”
“But the IV?” Wilmington asked worriedly.
“I assure you it’s secure. The only way it’ll come out is if you were to pull it out and I don’t think you’re going to do that,” she said, a warm smile on her face.
“No ma’am,” the ladies man assured her as Sanchez joined him at the side of the bed.
Josiah placed his hand on Larabee’s forehead and said a silent prayer. He hated seeing his friends like this, yet he knew the myriad of equipment surrounding the younger man was needed to keep him alive. He knew Buck was talking to Anne and heard her explaining what everything was for. ‘I know you’ve been through hell, Chris, but you’ll find us all here to bank the fires and bring you home,’ he thought as he flicked back a stray lock of blond hair.
“I know it’s hard seeing a friend like this, but he needs the help right now,” Anne explained as she checked the contents of the bag clipped to the side of the bed.
“I know,” Sanchez said as he looked around the room. He knew the man standing beside him was at the point of exhaustion, he spotted a chair and pulled it closer. “Buck, sit!” he ordered.
“I’m okay, Josiah,” Wilmington said, blinking his eyes in order to stop the room from spinning. The long days with little sleep and very little food were catching up to him and he knew it was the same with the other members of the team.
“No, you’re not. Now sit down before you fall down,” the ex-preacher warned.
“Is there something wrong?” Anne asked worriedly, noting Buck’s suddenly pale features.
“He’s just tired, Anne, we’ve been looking for Chris for some time now and it’s finally catching up on us,” Sanchez explained as he eased the tired man into the chair.
“Maybe all of you should get some rest,” the nurse suggested.
“I ain’t leaving,” Buck said, a little too sharply.
“You won’t be much help to your friends if you let yourself get rundown, Mr. Wilmington. I have to suction out the endotracheal tube. Why don’t you two go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat? I assure you the food here is not as bad as you might think,”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Buck, let’s go check on Vin and we’ll all get something to eat and maybe catch some shut eye in that waiting room.”
“Josiah...”
“Now, Buck,” Sanchez used a tone he’d heard Chris Larabee use many times and he smiled as Wilmington stood up, a resigned, put upon look on his face. “We’ll be back, Brother!” Sanchez said as he turned the younger man away.
“Just give me a minute, Josiah,” Wilmington said.
Sanchez nodded and removed his hand from the ladies’ man’s shoulder. “I’ll be right outside the door, Buck.”
Wilmington nodded and turned back to his friend. He placed his right hand over Larabee’s heart and felt the tears forming in his eyes. “Now you listen and you listen good, Pard, I ain’t ready to give you up and neither are the others. You and me got so many things to do and I don’t aim to do those things alone. I’m gonna leave for a little bit, you just make sure you’re here when I get back. Take care of him, Anne, he’s a special man.”
“So are you,” she said and was rewarded with a slight smile.
Buck nodded and left the room as she prepared to suction the tube in his best friend’s throat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nathan and Ezra watched as the younger man fought to open his eyes. They heard a soft groan and knew the light was bothering him. Betsy was in the room with them and she spoke softly to her patient, while they watched in silence.
“Vin, I’ve turned the lights down.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled as he fought once more to raise his lids.
“You’ve got visitors,” Betsy watched as the eyes opened and searched the room in spite of the pain.
Vin looked around until he saw the slightly blurry figures walking towards him. He smiled in relief, knowing they were here with him. His vision cleared and he smiled weakly at the two men. “Hey, Nate, Ez.”
“Hey yourself, Mr. Tanner. I won’t ask how you’re feeling as I can ascertain the answer for myself.”
Betsy frowned at the formal words, but knew by the tone it was a front. She’d seen others like the well dressed man, with the southern accent and understood they used their words to hide their true self.
“Hi, Vin,” Jackson said and smiled at the nurse.
“You guys seen Chris?"
“Not us. Buck and Josiah are with him now.”
“Is he okay? Did you talk to his doctor? How is he?” Tanner’s tone showed how desperate he was for information.
Nathan knew it wouldn’t do any good to lie to the injured man. He pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. He ran down the list of injuries Barrett told them about, making sure he watched the younger man’s face. He felt Ezra Standish lending moral support as he watched the blue eyes fill with unshed moisture and pain. The lids slowly closed over the blue orbs and both men thought he’d drifted off to sleep, yet they knew that was not likely.
“Vin,” Jackson called the name softly
“I’m okay, Nate.”
“No, you’re not, Vin,” Standish said as he placed a hand on the injured man’s shoulder. “We all know how close you and Mr. Larabee are. Brothers bound by soul as well as destiny and fate. Think about what’s happened, Vin, and you’ll know what I’m talking about. We’re all in this together and as long as we have faith, then you and Chris will both come through this. Just keep believing in what we’ve seen, you’re not alone, none of us are.”
“Thanks, Ez,” the sharpshooter smiled at the gambler as he shifted slightly on the bed. His headache was returning and with it came the nausea, but he refused to acknowledge it while his friends were there.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Tanner,” Standish said as he spotted a lone figure just outside the door. “Mr. Dunne is doing a wonderful impression of a lost puppy so I shall take my leave and let him visit with you,” he said. He saw Tanner nod and patted the bare left shoulder before exchanging places with JD.
“Hi, Vin,” Dunne’s voice was filled with boyish excitement at seeing his friend.
“Hi, Kid,” Tanner answered.
“How are you feeling?” the youngest member of the team asked.
“If I answer I’m fine I think Nate might just shoot me,” the tracker told his friends and heard a small laugh from the medic. “Let’s just say I’m getting there,” he assured them.
Betsy could see her patient really wasn’t feeling very well and knew it was time for his medications. “Vin.” She waited for him to turn his gaze on her. “How’s the nausea?”
He swallowed painfully, knowing his stomach was churning again. “It’s back,” he answered, grimacing in spite of his resolve not to show how much pain he was in.
“The headache’s back too,” Jackson observed.
“Yeah!” Vin answered as he let his eyes close.
“Nate?”
Jackson turned towards the soft voice and walked towards the door. “Chris?” he asked worriedly.
“He’s the same.” Sanchez answered. “How’s Vin?”
“He’s still having those damn headaches and he’s sick to his stomach. I’d like to go see Chris if you want to visit with Vin?”
“The nurses need to do some things for Chris and suggested we go eat,” Sanchez explained and smiled as a loud grumbling sound came from the medic’s stomach. “It sounds like your stomach agrees with her.”
Jackson smiled sheepishly, “I guess so. One of us should stay with Vin.”
“Go, Nathan,” Tanner said. “Betsy’s gonna give me a heck of a painkiller and I’ll probably just go to sleep anyway.”
“I can stay, Vin,” Dunne said.
“Nah, Kid, if your stomach sounds anything like Nate’s you’ll only keep me awake,” Tanner heard the soft laughter from his friends and smiled. With all of them here there was no doubt in his mind that Chris would get better.
Buck walked past the others and entered the room as JD came out. He stood beside the bed and smiled as Tanner’s blue eyes opened. “Hey, Pard.”
“Hey, Buck.”
“Nathan, Buck and I want to see Vin. Why don’t you guys ask at the desk where the cafeteria is and we’ll be out in a minute?”
“All right, Josiah,” Jackson led the others to the desk as Sanchez walked into the room.
“Hello, Vin.”
“Josiah,” Tanner looked at the two men and waited for them to speak.
Buck knew what Vin was waiting for and he made sure he looked him in the eyes as he spoke. “Ain’t gonna lie to ya, Vin, he’s bad,” he said and rubbed sweaty palms on his pants. “He’s got all this shit hooked up to him and so many damned wires you’d swear he was an octopus. That son of a bitch really did a job on him. Sorry, ma’am,” he apologized to the nurse injecting medication in the sharpshooter’s IV.
“Easy, Buck,” Tanner said. “You need to go eat and get some rest, Pard, ya look like shit.”
Wilmington smiled at the opening Tanner was giving him and tried to give him the answer he expected. “You know that just ain’t possible.” The three men smiled as the response was softly given.
“Vin, we’ll be back in a little while,” Sanchez explained. “You just rest easy.”
“Thanks, Josiah. You guys go eat and get some sleep. Me and Chris ain’t goin’ anywhere.” His voice was filled with a surety he hadn’t felt until the five men arrived and the seven were together again, albeit different rooms, but they were together and that was there strength.
Vin watched them leave, knowing they felt the same way he did about what happened to Chris. He could feel the medication taking hold of the headache and also calming his queasy stomach. He sighed as he felt his mind drifting, yet even with the medication Larabee was never far from his thoughts. Just before he drifted off to sleep he sought out and found the connection, it was still there, weak, but still resonating in his subconscious and he sighed deeply.
Betsy watched her patient and wondered about the brief, flicker of a smile that appeared on his face. Although the lids were closed she had a feeling the smile would’ve brightened up his eyes as well as his face. She checked the IV one more time before leaving to check on other patients.
~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Anne worked quickly and efficiently to suction the endotracheal tube leading into her patient’s throat. She was always grateful when a patient was unconscious during this part of treatment as it meant he didn’t have to feel anything. She knew that would change once they allowed him to wake up and the process of weaning him off the ventilator began. She’d seen patients panic once they realized there was something down their throat and they couldn’t do anything about it. She knew Chris Larabee would be kept sedated until just before the beginning of her next shift. She checked his hip and made sure the pillow placed between his legs was keeping it in position. She checked the flow on the two IV lines and made sure everything was running smoothly. She finished what she needed to do and wiped his face with a wet cloth. She believed her patients knew what was happening to them on a deeper level and always tried to give them something to hang on to. Sometimes she just talked, but more often than not she hummed or recited poetry. Families of the injured patient often expressed their thanks for what she did. She hummed an old tune as she worked, the sound soft and soothing against the background noises of the ICU.
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