Chris heard Anne and Ezra talking, but kept his eyes closed. He didn’t feel like joining in the conversation right now. No amount of small talk would ease the ache in his heart as he remembered the dreams he’d been lost in. They we re bright, strange at times, almost as if he could detach himself from them, yet feel everything that he saw. He knew about LSD trips and bad experiences and he knew some of the dreams were in fact flashbacks, yet none was as severe as the one that caused the doctor to have him restrained. He listened to Ezra regaling Anne with tales of his last trip to Las Vegas and his system for winning at poker.
His mind was drifting again and he forced his eyes open in an effort to stave off the oncoming dreams.
“Hello, Mr. Larabee, I must say you’re looking better,” Standish said as he moved closer to the bed.
“You may be able to fool people with that poker face, Ez, but you can’t lie worth a damn,” the blond rasped. He coughed and smiled as the nurse placed a straw on his lips and he took a few small sips. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Are they taking these off?” Larabee asked.
“Not right now, Chris,” Anne told him. She’d witnessed a couple of fairly violent flashbacks during the night and Magruder’s orders were to keep him restrained until they were sure the flashbacks were over.
“Shit!” he hissed and turned away from the two people.
“They’ll take them off soon, Mr. Larabee.”
Chris didn’t say anything. He kept his head turned to the left and closed his eyes. He coughed softly and felt a pillow pressed against his chest. “Thanks,” he told the nurse as he coughed a little harder. He felt two sets of hands ease him on his left side a little as he coughed and the small amount of water he drank came back up.
Anne held him as he vomited and coughed. She massaged his shoulders as the misery he was in, manifested itself in harsh coughs and painful groans. She released his left hand and eased him onto his left side a little more in an effort to ease the pain he was in. She felt him grip the pillow and hold it to his chest as the coughing spurt intensified.
Ezra wished he could do more, but all he could do was talk to the injured man and let him know he wasn’t alone. It didn’t matter whether the blond understood the words, but Standish was sure Larabee was grateful for the company. Chris Larabee was a private man, but inwardly he craved the comfort only true friends could give. Ezra was still amazed that Larabee and the others included him in the small circle of seven. ‘Or is that a circle of fourteen,’ he thought as a picture of seven men on horseback flashed through his mind.
Anne eased him back to the bed as the coughing subsided. She reached for a cloth and smiled as the liquid green eyes locked with hers. She released the cloth to his hand and her eyes met Standish’ over the bed. She smiled reassuringly at the gambler as they watched Larabee use his left hand to wash his face.
It felt so good to do something on his own, even if it was just to wipe a wet cloth over his face. He savored the freedom of using his hand and wanted to continue to use the cloth indefinitely. His arm grew heavy and dropped beside him on the bed and he felt the cloth taken from his fingers. He kept his eyes closed as Anne reattached the Velcro to his wrist.
“Do you have to?” Standish asked softly.
“It’s for his own good,” Anne answered.
Ezra sat by the bed and watched the warring emotions flashing across Larabee’s face. The conman couldn’t remember ever seeing the blond look as vulnerable as he did right now. The incredible array of equipment surrounding The Firm’s leader had nothing to do with it. This time the vulnerability came from seeing Larabee in wrist and ankle restraints and not being able to remove them.
“Ez?”
Standish wasn’t sure he heard his name at all, but watched as the green eyes opened and looked at him. “Can I get you something, Mr. Larabee?”
“A way out of here,” the blond answered simply as he felt the pain medication enter his body and quickly attack the oncoming pain.
“Ah, Mr...”
“It’s okay, Ez, I know you can’t do that.”
Standish sighed in relief. He knew Larabee had been completely serious and also realized if he could’ve helped his friend escape, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. “So what is it you really want, Mr. Larabee?”
“Just wondering if you still have the card.”
“Card?” Standish was confused at first. “Oh, the Ace of Spades.”
“Yeah, have you still got it?”
“Sadly, not, I seem to have misplaced it.”
“I know where it is.”
“You do? How?”
“Don’t know,” Larabee yawned and forced his eyes open.
“Chris, you need to sleep,” Anne told the injured man.
“I will, just gotta tell Ez something,” he yawned again and realized he was quickly losing the fight to stay awake. “Dammit!” he swore as he fought the oncoming lethargy. He needed to tell Ezra about the card.
Although Ezra wanted more than anything to hear what Larabee had to tell him he could see the injured man was fading fast. “It’s okay, Mr. Larabee, go to sleep. You can tell me...”
“No...I need to tell you...” he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and sank towards sleep.
Anne checked to make sure everything was still recording properly and frowned as she looked at the temperature. It had risen a degree and was sitting at 100.6. She knew it was low grade, but with the antibiotics her patient’s temperature should’ve been coming down, not rising. She checked the leads and made sure nothing had worked loose. She picked up the chart and made a note of her findings. She’d need to keep an eye on his temperature and make sure it didn’t go any higher.
Ezra saw the frown on her face and knew something was bothering her. “Anne, is there a problem with Mr. Larabee?”
“His temperature is up a little, but there’s nothing to worry about yet. I’ll keep an eye on it and let Dr. Barrett know when he comes in tomorrow morning.”
“Shouldn’t the antibiotics be taking care of any infections?”
“He may need stronger ones, Ezra.”
Standish nodded and settled back to watch the injured man. He frowned as he realized Larabee seemed to really think he knew where the card was. ‘What do you know that we don’t, Chris?’he thought as he pulled the deck of cards from his pocket.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Good morning, Vin.”
“Hi, Doc,” Tanner spoke softly in an effort not to cause the throbbing pain to flare to an unbearable level once more.
“How are you feeling,” Milano asked as she shone a light in his eyes. She could tell he was still in pain as he winced when the light hit him.
“Better than...”
“Last night,” she interrupted as she gently probed the area around the bullet wound. “You really have to start listening to your own body, Vin. You may think you’re infallible, but I’m afraid that’s a mirage. Is your head bothering you now?”
“A little,” Tanner answered honestly.
“It’s not gonna get any better until you get the rest your body needs. Now, I understand you want to spend time with your friend, but keep it to a couple of minutes at a time. As soon as your head starts hurting or your stomach acts up ask someone to take you back here.”
“I will...”
“Vin, a concussion is very serious, especially considering the severity of the one you’ve suffered. Are you still sick to the stomach?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does the Zofran help?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I know you’re a stubborn man, but heed your body’s warnings and rest when you need to. You’re still on a clear fluid diet aren’t you?’
“Yes, Ma’am,” Tanner winced as he answered the question.
“Are you in pain?”
“Only when I think of clear fluids,” he answered with a small grin, and heard the soft unmistakable sound of laughter. He smiled as the laughter tore down the serious woman’s defences and he knew she wasn’t nearly as hard as she tried to sound.
“Well, once your stomach is able to handle the fluids we’ll see about getting you something more substantial.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Tanner smiled as she walked towards the door.
“You’re welcome, just remember what I said.” She was gone before he could answer her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anne looked up as Derrick Barrett entered the room. She was at the end of her shift, but was waiting for this man to arrive. Larabee’s temperature had risen once more and he seemed to be delirious as he cried out in his sleep.
“How’s he doing, Anne?”
“Dr. Magruder looked in on him earlier and he was worried about the rise in temperature. He ordered more blood work...”
“Are the results back yet?”
“Yes, Doctor Barrett,” she said as she passed the doctor the lab results.
“His white cell count is up,” he said with a frown. He turned his attention to the patient and examined the wounds covering most of Larabee’s upper body. He listened to his lungs and once again frowned at the lingering congestion there.
Buck stood back and listened as the doctor and nurse talked about his long time friend. He knew they were worried and he understood Larabee wasn’t getting any better. He’d spent the night trying to keep the team leader with them. Soothing the nightmares that continued to sap his strength and keep him from sleeping as deeply as he needed to. He watched quietly as Barrett did a complete examination of Larabee’s battered form.
“He’s got a lot of congestion on his lungs,” he wrote up new orders and looked at the nurse. “I’m changing the antibiotics to a stronger one and I want him kept on the full face mask.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Anne agreed as she took the chart.
“Doc, he’s gonna be okay isn’t he?” Wilmington asked.
“We’re doing all we can to make sure he is, Mr. Wilmington,” Barrett answered. “Anne, I’ve got a couple of other patients to check on, but have me paged if anything changes.”
Buck moved back to the bed as the nurse placed a new bag of medication over Larabee’s head. “Jesus, Chris, seems like I’ve been saying this a lot lately, but you need to keep fighting ‘cause none of us is ready to let you go.” A silent tear tracked down the ladies’ man’s face as he reached out and touched Larabee’s shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A young woman named Rosie had replaced Anne and Buck had been talking to her non-stop. The woman knew her job and she wasn’t distracted from it by the ladies’ man. She knew what to check for and when she checked Larabee’s temperature she knew it was time to place a call to his doctor. Buck watched her as she pressed the button on the wall and told the nurse who answered to page Barrett.
“What’s going on, Rosie?” he asked worriedly. Before she could answer a soft moan sounded from the bed and Chris tried to move around. He watched as the eyes opened to mere slits in the colorful face and knew Larabee was in pain once more.
“Hey, Stud,” he spoke softly so as not to startle his friend.
“Bu...ck,” Larabee hissed. He moaned loudly as he tried to get away from the fire in his right hip.
“Chris, is your hip bothering you?” Rosie asked.
“Yeah...Hurts like a...” He started coughing and laid his head back in misery. His eyes closed once more as his chest seemed to be torn apart.
“Easy, Chris,” Wilmington said as he placed a hand over Larabee’s. “Can’t you give him something?”
“Not right now, Buck. Chris, concentrate on your breathing. Dr. Barrett is on his way.”
“Try...ing,” Larabee groaned as his lungs constricted and the tube in his chest seemed to rub against his flesh. He felt the pillow held against his upper body and heard Buck’s voice as he talked to him, but nothing calmed the utter agony he felt. “G...od, Buck...I c...can’t br...eathe.”
“Chris, no more talking. Just calm down and breathe. Nothing else, Just breathing right now!” the nursed ordered.
“...okay...” Larabee concentrated on bringing the oxygen into his lungs, but didn’t seem to have the strength to do even that task. A vision swam across his closed lids and he saw Vin Tanner seated beside a bed. He wore a buckskin jacket and his head was bandaged. His hands also sported bandages and Chris saw the blue eyes turn his way. One hand pointed to the bed and Chris saw Nathan sitting on it. He recognized the pale, battered form lying on the white sheets and realized he was seeing what Maguire had done to his great, great, grandfather. His eyes returned to Vin Tanner and he smiled as Vin’s ancestor drawled.
‘Ya’ve got a helluva fight ahead of ya, Chris, but if yer anythin’ like my Chris ya will come through it. May take a while and ya might wanna give up at times, but yer friend’s’ll make sure ya got support. Lean on ’em, Chris. Don’t try ta do it alone.’
“Th...anks, Cow....boy...” There seemed to be no air and he continued to struggle to draw a breath. He heard a new voice speaking to him and looked up into the familiar face of Derrick Barrett.
“What’s his oxygen intake?”
“Ninety and still dropping.
Temperature is 103.1, respirations fast,” Rosie told him as Larabee continued
to cough and struggle for air.
”Chris, listen to me.”
“...okay...”
“You’re not taking in enough oxygen....”
“Hu...rts...” he coughed again as the doctor ordered Wilmington out of the room.
“I know it does, but we’re gonna help you.” Barrett turned to the nurse. “We’re gonna have to intubate...”
“N...no,” Larabee struggled against the restraints holding him to the bed.
“Chris...”
“D...don’t, please...no...more,” he cried out as the fire in his hip intensified, and his lungs continued to feel as if a band was stretching tighter across his chest and cutting off his already limited air supply.
A blue tinge formed around his lips as the air wheezed in and out of the tired body. Barrett knew there was no question of what had to be done and he nodded as the nurse readied the equipment he would need.
“There’s no choice now, Chris. Just relax and we’ll get you set up.”
“No!” Larabee turned away, denying access to his mouth, but he soon felt a hand on his cheek. He didn’t have the strength to fight them, but he wanted to. “I d...on’t need...Oh, God!” He cried out as his body betrayed him and he slipped towards unconsciousness. He wasn’t quite under when he felt his head pulled back and something pressed against his lips. Again Maguire’s taunting voice invaded his pain laden mind, forcing his head back and feeding him the water laced with LSD. He fought with all he had, not wanting to give into Maguire’s sick form of torture anymore, not wanting to taste the nightmares that went with the drug. A soft cry escaped, just before something was forced down the back of his throat. Chris Larabee knew what hell was, and right now hell was where he resided.
Barrett finished the intubation process and they quickly hooked the unconscious man up to the ventilator. He checked the readings and made sure everything was working properly before picking up his patient’s chart. He placed the chart at the end of the bed and took his stethoscope from around his neck.
“Rosie, I want chest X-rays done immediately,” he said as he listened to his patient’s breathing.
“Doctor?” Barrett lifted his eyes and looked at her. “He seemed to be having a lot of pain and discomfort in his hip.”
“Dammit, I was afraid of that. Tell X-ray to do his hip as well.” He looked towards the door and knew Larabee’s men were waiting outside. He took a deep breath and replaced the stethoscope. “Page me as soon as the results are in.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Rosie said. She straightened the thin sheet over the patient’s body and checked the readings on the monitor. Buck Wilmington came back inside just as she measured the urine in the collection bag.
“Fuck, Chris, thought you were done with that damn thing!” he hissed as he sank back into the chair and rubbed his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vin smiled as he stood up and walked out of his room, using his IV pole as leverage. Milano had agreed he could be up and around, but only if someone followed him with the wheelchair. She told him that the headaches could be severe and devastating and could happen without warning. JD was waiting outside the door and he smiled weakly at the youngest member of the team.
“Hey, Kid.”
“You were supposed to wait for me, Vin!” Dunne tried to look stern, but the smile on the pale Texan’s face made it impossible. “Shit, Vin, how the hell does Chris give you heck and keep a straight face while he’s doing it.”
“Chris just has a naturally stern look, Kid. He’s had lots of experience frowning,” Tanner smiled as he walked slowly towards the elevator. “How’s he doing today, JD?” There was silence as the door opened and the two men stepped in. “JD?”
“Vin...I...Ah hell, Vin, he’s not doing real good.”
“What? Why the hell didn’t one of you come get me earlier?” He tapped impatiently on the buttons as the elevator seemed to take forever to descend one floor.
“You were sleeping, Vin.”
“I don’t give a fu....Shit!!” he hissed as the door began to open. He pushed through them before they’d opened halfway. He turned to the left and headed towards Larabee’s room. He was met by a wall of human muscle in the form of Josiah Sanchez.
“Slow down, Vin.”
“Let me go, Josiah!” Tanner snarled.
“You can’t go in there right now, Vin.”
“Why the hell not?”
“X-ray is in there with him.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Tanner swayed as he felt the headache returning and his arm throbbed in rhythm with his too fast heartbeat. He felt strong hands on his arms and he was eased into the chair. He tried to stand, but the arms held him firm.
“Stay!” Sanchez warned.
“Not a dog...”
“No, but sometimes you need a leash. Now, Dr. Barrett was here a little while ago and Chris was having trouble breathing...
“Ah, fuck, Josiah, don’t tell me they...”
“They had no choice, Vin. He wasn’t breathing very well.”
“So what does Barrett think is wrong with him?” He saw Dunne move over to stand with Wilmington on the right side of the door. Travis, Standish and Jackson stood to the left.
“He’s not too sure, Vin, but he thinks Chris could have pneumonia or pleurisy. That’s why he’s having trouble breathing. He also thinks there could be a problem with his hip.”
“God dammit! Hasn’t he been put through enough hell?” He lifted his left hand to his head and cried out as the raging storm of pain advanced across his senses.
Sanchez saw the young man’s face pale considerably and he knew Tanner was suffering another concussion headache. “Easy, Vin! I think we’d better get you back to your room.”
“No! Not yet, Josiah! Not until I make sure he’s still with us...with me.”
“All right, Vin, but then you go back to your room. I mean it, Vin, you aren’t doing Chris any good by neglecting your own health.”
“Milano already read me the riot act, Josiah. Stacey Midland would’ve been proud of her.”
“Glad to hear it, Son. Looks like X-rays are done so why don’t I take you to see Chris for a couple of minutes.?”
“Thanks, Josiah,” Vin kept his eyes closed against the glare of bright overhead lights, but opened them instantly as he was wheeled through the door. He swore under his breath as he saw the tube running into his best friends throat once more. He reached over the side rail just as the nurse lowered it, making it easier for him to touch Larabee. “Thanks,” he said gratefully and returned her smile.
Vin looked down at the closed eyes and frowned as he realized how warm Larabee’s hand was. He knew his temperature was probably up from whatever was happening with his lungs, but he hadn’t expected to feel this kind of heat. ‘Shit, Chris, we’re back to this again. Buck’s hair has turned two shades of gray now. I guess it’s a good thing we brought him those bottles of hair dye. Shit, if this keeps up I’ll need a couple of bottles myself.’
Chris smiled inwardly at the soothing Texas drawl. He stayed just below consciousness, not wanting to feel the intrusions into his body or the pain he knew would be waiting for him. He sighed heavily and sank deeper, away from the younger man’s warm voice and into a nightmare realm where his tormentors were always waiting for him in one form or another. Again he sank deeper, beyond the level of nightmares where nothing existed and although he felt safe, he also felt alone.
“Vin, it’s time,” Sanchez said as he noticed the squinting eyes and the pain on the young man’s face.
“Just a few more minutes.”
“Mr. Tanner, go get some rest. You can come back later.”
Vin knew there was no choice, his eyes couldn’t handle the light anymore. “I’ll be back, Cowboy,” he promised as Sanchez gripped the handles of the chair.
“Josiah,” he said softly.
“Yes, Vin,” The ex-preacher kept his voice low in consideration of Tanner’s concussion.
“Promise me you’ll come get me if anything, and I mean anything at all happens!”
“I promise, Brother,” Sanchez said as they left the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Derrick Barrett studied the X-rays in his hands and frowned at the news he needed to impart to Chris Larabee’s friends. He knew the men were hovering around the ICU, waiting for him to let them know what he found. The news he had was not good and did not bode well for the injured man. He put the X-rays away and took the short walk to the patient’s room. He smiled at the two men seated beside the bed as he picked up the chart.
“Did you get the results back, Doc?” Dunne asked.
“I have them. Both X-rays and blood work. I need to set up a few things so if you gentlemen would get your friends and meet me in the waiting room. I’ll explain everything there.”
“Mr. Dunne, you gather the others and I shall see to our other comrades upstairs.”
“Okay, Ezra,” Dunne said as he left the room.
“Doctor?” Standish waited for the eyes to meet his. “I take it you don’t have good news to impart?”
“No, Mr. Standish, but I’d rather say it once.” Ezra nodded and hurried to get Vin Tanner and Josiah Sanchez.
“Rosie, we’ll be taking him back to the OR as soon as they have a room set up. Has he woke up yet?”
“No, Doctor.”
“Alright, I’ve written up orders for a new antibiotic. Start running it right away.” He passed her the chart and checked the patient’s pupils before turning towards the door. “I’ll be across the hall talking to his friends. If they call for him before I get back let me know.”
“I will,” Rosie assured him as she read the new orders.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ezra raced up the stairs instead of waiting on the elevator. He pushed open the door, nearly colliding with a young patient as he did so.
“My abject apologies,” he said as he hurried past him and continued towards Vin Tanner’s room. He pushed open the door and saw Sanchez seated beside the window, a book on philosophy open on his lap.
Josiah looked up as the younger man entered the room. His eyes quickly looked at the bed and was not surprised to see the sharpshooter struggling to sit up. The nurse had given him a shot for pain and he was still feeling the effects.
“Ez, what’s wrong?” the tracker asked worriedly.
“Dr. Barrett wants to see us in the waiting room,” Standish answered as he pushed the chair over to the bed.
“I can...”
“Get in, Mr. Tanner,” Standish ordered a little sharper than he intended.
“Don’t argue, Vin, one near collapse is enough for one day,” Sanchez told him and was pleased when Vin did as he was told.
~~~~~~~~~~
Barrett watched as the young man was wheeled carefully into the room. He waited until the other two settled on the chair and looked at each one before settling on the injured man and the dark haired, moustached man sitting beside him.
“We’re all here, Doc,” Wilmington said softly.
“I have the X-ray and lab test results. Chris is a very sick man right now, but we’re going to do everything we can to make him well.”
“What did the X-rays show?” Jackson asked.
“He’s developed pleurisy on the right side and between that and the punctured lung, coughing is something he’s not gonna want to do. It’ll be hell for him when he wakes up and we do take him off the ventilator.”
“When?” Tanner asked.
“Pardon?”
“When will you take him off the damn ventilator?”
“That depends on how well he responds to the antibiotics. I’ve ordered what we call an antibiotic combo pack and hopefully it won’t take long to kick in. Once he’s off the ventilator we’ll start inhalation therapy with broncodilators. We won’t be doing the chest percussion treatments because of the injuries to his chest.”
“Thank you, Lord,” Sanchez whispered softly.
“Dr. Barrett.” The physician looked up as Rosie opened the door. “OR just called. They’re ready for you.”
“OR...Surgery?” Dunne mumbled.
“Thank you, Rosie. I’m on my way.”
“Doc?” Tanner winced as he held his throbbing shoulder.
“Mr. Jackson, as a trained paramedic you know how important it is to treat broken bones immediately.”
“Yeah.”
“Chris went without treatment for at least two days and from the evidence he was being abused during that time. There’s a pocket of infection around the hip fracture and we need to go back in and relieve it immediately.”
“Dammit!” Wilmington’s explosive temper manifested as he struck the table beside him.
“That won’t help, Buck,” Jackson said.
“I have to go scrub for surgery...”
“Doc, can I see him for a minute?”
Barrett was about to decline, but the worry in the pain glazed eyes was all he could see. “One minute, Mr. Tanner. Have one of your friends take you there now. As for the rest of you, get some sleep. This could take some time.” He held the door as Wilmington pushed Tanner from the room.
Buck wheeled the chair across the hall and into the ICU room where Chris lay silent amongst the jumble of machines and leads. He stood beside Tanner and the two men tried to send their strength to the injured man.
“Hey, Chris, you’re gonna prove again what it means to be a Larabee, ain’t ya?” Tanner asked.
“It’s real important that you stay strong Chris. I wish the hell there was some way I could make things easier for you, but I know that ain’t gonna happen. Me, Vin and the boys are gonna be waiting for you when you get back here so just make damn sure ya come back to us.”
Chris heard the familiar voices and frowned as he listened to the undertone of worry and pain. He’d been on the verge of waking for a while now, but didn’t want to face the things he knew had been done to him. His chest and hip were in contest as to which one was the bigger fire right now, but the two men beside his bed needed him. He forced his eyelids open, feeling as if each one weighed a ton. Slowly he felt the glued lids peel open and he was looking into two sets of limpid pools of blue. He panicked as he realized something really was intruding down his throat and he tried to reach for it, but his arms refused to obey his commands. His tongue moved around the tube and he felt a hand touch his arm. He turned away from the two men and looked at a woman dressed in white.
Rosie saw the panic in the sea green eyes and smiled warmly at him. “Chris, you’re on a ventilator, remember?” She saw the panic ease as her words sank in. “Remember you have to let it help you?” Again there was a slight nod and Larabee turned towards his friends.
Vin smiled in spite of his own discomfort, which paled in comparison to what his best friend was going through and would go through. He saw the exhaustion in the blond’s eyes and patted his shoulder. “Go to sleep, cowboy. I’ll.... we’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Yeah, Stud, you won’t be alone,” Wilmington vowed as Larabee’s eyes slid closed once more.
“Rosie, OR is calling for him. I’ll help you get him ready.”
“Thanks, Trudy. Buck, take Vin back to his room. We’ll let you all know when Chris is back.” She assured the two men.
Vin stood up and bent low to his best friend’s ear. He took a deep breath and whispered for only the injured man to hear. “Remember you’re a Larabee, Chris!”
‘Remember you’re a Larabee, Chris!’ That simple message followed him into sleep and he smiled thankfully. For the first time it was without the fear and the nightmares that usually waited for him.
Buck wheeled the tracker out into the hall and headed for the elevator, but pulled up short as he saw the others standing outside the door. Like silent sentries they waited for their leader to be brought before them. No one spoke as Buck parked Vin’s chair on one side and he took up position on the other.
Vin smiled as he realized Chris was not, nor would he ever be alone. He knew in his heart none of them would ever be alone again. Right now it felt important that they be there when Larabee was taken from the room and up to the surgical floor. They didn’t have long to wait as the bed carrying the sleeping man was wheeled from the room. Silent prayers were said as the orderlies passed by the seven men. They watched until Larabee disappeared around a corner and stood silent a few minutes longer.
Jackson looked towards the sharpshooter and moved to take the handles. “Come on, Vin, let’s get you settled in your room.”
“You guys will let us know when he’s back?”
“We will, Vin,” Wilmington vowed as Jackson pushed the wheelchair past the group. He smiled as he realized they’d kept the formation until the tracker was wheeled past them. He knew he wasn’t the only one to realize how much this showed. How much these two men meant to them all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vin opened his eyes and briefly wondered why he felt so uncomfortable. Memory returned and with it the pain of knowing Chris Larabee was once more undergoing surgery. He looked at the man seated in the room with him and smiled as the medic turned his gaze on him.
“How are you feeling, Vin?” Jackson asked.
“Okay,” Tanner answered as he shifted his body in the bed and pressed the button to raise his head. “How long have I been out?”
“About three hours,” Jackson answered.
“Three hours? Shit!”
“You needed it, Vin...”
“Any word?”
“He’s still in surgery. Barrett said it could take some time especially if they found anything else wrong.”
“I hope to hell he doesn’t.”
“Don’t we all? They just brought you something to eat.”
“Ain’t hungry.”
“Don’t matter, eat it anyway,” the medic ordered as he stood up and pushed the tray table over the bed.
“Did you eat, Nathan?”
Jackson smiled thinly at the question and knew what the sharpshooter was saying. “Actually, Vin, I did. We all did.”
“I bet it wasn’t this sh... stuff.”
Jackson smiled as the sharpshooter lifted the spoon and began eating the clear fluids. He settled back in the chair and thought about what this man had been through in the past weeks. A vacation he’d looked forward to, had turned into a nightmare with him shot and Chris kidnapped by a madman. Now that madman was dead, but the evidence of Maguire’s cruelty was easily seen in the haunted blue eyes before him.
Vin could feel the medic staring at him and kept his eyes downcast. He didn’t want Jackson to see just how hard a time he was having dealing with Larabee’s second trip to the OR. His own dreams were filled with images of his friend’s tortured body and the pain he’d seen in the green eyes before the blond succumbed to sleep. Chris would have to deal with the injuries to his body, and Tanner was grateful for the pain medications available to him. The problem that plagued the sharpshooter’s mind had more to do with the mental pain his friend was bound to suffer. Somehow they’d have to make sure he didn’t sink into a well of despair. He took a deep breath as he finished the warm broth and turned to the juice. He drank the liquid without tasting it, letting his eyes close once more as he finished the tedious job of eating.
Jackson knew the younger man wasn’t sleeping, but he felt Tanner’s need to think. He sat back and relaxed in his chair, leaving his friend to his thoughts. His own mind quickly turned to the surgery being performed on Larabee and he prayed there’d be no new complications.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buck was alone in the waiting room, the TV on, and the volume turned off. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked at the wall clock for what seemed to be the thousandth time since Larabee was taken to the OR. Sanchez, Dunne and Standish were in the small Chapel on the first floor. Jackson was in the room with Vin Tanner and Orrin Travis had gone to get coffee. He smiled at the thought of the older man, owner and operator of The Firm, doing a coffee run. It didn’t really surprise him as the older man was far different than any of his previous employers. Orrin Travis cared about his men, his family as he sometimes called them.
Buck clasped his hands together and cracked the knuckles. Again he rubbed at his eyes and looked at the clock. Chris had been taken to surgery nearly five hours ago and once more he stood up and walked out of the room. He hurried to the nursing station and smiled as the dark haired nurse came towards him.
“Any word?” he asked.
“Chris is out of surgery, Mr. Wilmington. He’s just being transferred to recovery and will probably be down here in a couple of hours. Dr. Barrett should be coming down in about half an hour. He said to tell you he’d see you all in the waiting room.”
“Thanks, Sheila,” the ladies’ man said as he hurried to get the others.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Half an hour later seven men waited impatiently for Larabee’s doctor to show up. Orrin Travis had returned with coffee and sandwiches, the coffees were in the hands of those present, but the sandwiches were untouched. Seven heads snapped up as the door opened and Barrett stepped into the room.
“How is he, Doc?” Dunne asked before anyone else had a chance to speak.
“Chris came through surgery just fine in spite of what we uncovered...”
“What?” Tanner asked tiredly.
“The infection in his hip was worse than we’d feared, but we were able to clean it up. I had to scrape the bone and replace the stabilizers we used to repair the fracture. We flushed it with sterile water and an antibiotic solution. We’ve stitched the area back up and hopefully with the strong antibiotic cocktail I’ve put him on there won’t be any further complications.”
“Is he still on the ventilator?” Travis asked.
“I’m afraid so. He’ll probably be on that for a few days yet. You have to realize he’s weak and his lungs were damaged. The left one was punctured by one of his ribs and he’s definitely developed pleurisy on the right side.”
“How long before you let him wake up this time?” Wilmington asked.
“We’ve already eased off on the sedatives. I need Chris awake so I can assess how well he’s doing. This is where all of you come into play. We’re going to keep him restrained...”
“What? Why?” Standish asked angrily.
“He’s on a ventilator and I’m sure all of you, especially you, Mr. Jackson, know how panicked a patient can become when he first realizes something is intruding down his throat. It’s an invasion into his body and Chris has also had episodes of LSD flashbacks. I don’t want to take the chance of him moving around with one of those. LSD flashbacks are extremely dangerous and can be violent. What I need is for all of you to talk to him when you’re in the room with him. Assure him that he won’t be on the ventilator for long and that the restraints are only there for a short time as well. This isn’t gonna be forever, gentlemen...”
“Tell that to Chris,” Dunne hissed and felt everyone’s eyes on him. “Sorry,” he apologized for the sarcastic remark.
“It’s okay, Mr. Dunne, I’m used to dealing with family and friends of my patients and I believe you gentlemen are both of those to Chris Larabee.”
“That we are, Dr. Barrett,” Travis stated.
“How long before he’s back in his room?” Sanchez asked.
“He’ll be in recovery for at least another hour. Once he comes back to this floor the nurses will need an hour or so to get him situated. They’ll let you know when he’s ready for visitors,” Barrett explained as he stood up to leave.
“Thanks, Doc,” Sanchez said as the man headed for the door.
Barrett turned to the men in the room and saw the same look on each face, the look of a man worried about losing something, or in this case someone, that meant a lot to him. “He’s lucky he’s got all of you,” he said as memories of his own stint in the hospital returned. The loneliness, the pain, the fear and no one was there to listen to him or sooth those things away. Chris Larabee was indeed a lucky man not to have to face these things alone. He left the room with the certainty that these men were the real medicine to heal his patient. Not the physical injuries, but the mental ones, and those were the ones that would take time.
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