Accusations by mcat

Admissions
by Suzy and Mady Bay
ATF Universe

September 12, 2000
This is the follow-up to Accusations, which no one but us thought was a complete story. ;-p
This just keeps being fun, Mady. Thanks for the inspiration and for being the easiest person on earth to collaborate with. ~ S
Right back at ya, Sooz! And thanks to all our readers for the great feedback on Accusations that made this possible. ~ M

Vin Tanner sat in the old Adirondack chair in Nettie Wells' backyard, trying to get a little color back in his sallow skin. Being a cool day, Vin wore a couple of tee shirts under a battered, over-sized sweatshirt. He'd lost so much weight during his hospitalization, that even now, after a week at Nettie's, he was still too thin. The cold bothered him more than it should, but the layers of clothes proved effective. The sun felt wonderful on his face and hands.

He was tired, but he forced himself to stay awake by staring sightlessly at the treetops. When he closed his eyes, even while awake, all he could see was Chris Larabee's shattered expression. Vin had meant it when he told Chris they were through, even though it destroyed him to say so. Even though it had devastated him to watch Chris's reaction. But it was done and nothing could make him change his mind. He'd been taken down lower than he'd ever known was possible. It had happened right in front of Chris. It was common knowledge among his closest friends. They acted like it was unimportant. It was very important to him. But his shame and embarrassment paled compared to the real issue: Vin knew he could never again withstand the degree of hatred and violence that Paulson had subjected him to, and he would do everything he could to prevent it ever happening to Chris. They were finished. He would simply stay away. And there would be no more reason to be looking over his shoulder - or Chris's.

"It's Nathan," Nettie said, breaking his reverie. She held the cordless phone out to Vin with a defiant look that said he better take this call.

Of course it was Nathan. It was Tuesday at 4 o'clock. Vin had been to the doctor for his check-up and Nathan was as predictable as Old Faithful, calling to find out what the report was. Vin knew that it was partly Nate's inherent interest in anything medical, partly his honest concern for Vin's recuperation, but mostly just another of the group's efforts to infiltrate his heavily fortressed emotional barrier. Vin had gotten Nettie to deflect a lot of their efforts, but she was getting weary of turning the guys away. Besides, who would run interference when he went home? He had to face them sooner or later.

He sighed and took the phone.

"Hey, Nate."

"Hey, Vin. What'd the doc say? You went today, right?"

"Yup. I'm doin' fine, Nate. Thanks." Vin hoped his still-swollen mouth and stiff jaw didn't give him away.

"Hmm. Most the stitches out?"

"Most," Vin lied. His torso was still criss-crossed with mini-tracks of stitched up whip lashes. Those that had healed were shiny red. More than half were still held together with coarse black thread.

"Great. What about your ear? Doin' ok?"

"Yup, fine. It's got a little hole, but it'll look great with my new earring," Vin attempted to jest.

"I was talking about your hearing. It test out any better today?" Nathan overrode Vin's levity.

"Huh?"

Pause.

"Ha ha. Not funny, Tanner. Your hearing isn't something to mess around with. If you're still having ringing and trouble hearing you got to let them know."

"Right. Well, it's okay," Vin lied again.

"And the shoulder?"

"Pitched a few innings this afternoon." An obvious lie, but not even close to reality. Who knew a dislocated shoulder would take so long to heal? Vin was exhausted from trying to do basic personal things that he refused to ask Nettie's help with.

"And your wrists and ankles?" Nathan persisted. "Nettie said there were signs of infection on your right wrist last week. You get that cleared up?"

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Couldn't a person get the shit beat out of him without everyone knowing all the fucking gory details? The skin on Vin's ankles and wrists had been severely abraded by the straps that had held him captive during his ordeal. The fact that Nathan even knew that made Vin want to throw up.

"All clear," he said tightly.

"Good. Good. Uh, is the, uh - "

"I'm going now, Nathan. Good bye."

There was no way on God's green earth Vin was going to discuss the treatment and healing of his injured rear end with Nathan or anyone else. He barely grunted acknowledgment of it to his doctor. This was too far off limits; he was really getting pissed off. He didn't care how noble Nathan's intentions were.

"Vin! Vin! Hold up, man. I'm sorry. I just want to make sure... to know if... I... just really care," he finished weakly. "That's all."

"I know," Vin whispered, not trusting his voice. "Bye."

Chris watched Nathan through his office window. He knew Nathan had been keeping tabs on Vin, calling him every day or so to check on him. And with today's doctor's appointment, he was sure the medic would call to find out how it had gone. He saw the way Nathan had sighed, his hand lingering on the handset after he hung up the phone. It was obvious that Vin's attitude hadn't improved. But he knew that. He'd been calling Nettie's every day, too.

The blond sighed as he went back to his desk. Vin was still refusing to talk to him. He didn't understand how the younger man could just end their relationship that way. How could he just throw what they had away? Didn't he know that they could get through this? Didn't he know that he wanted to help him get through this - that he needed to help him? That he just plain needed him?

He didn't know how anybody was going to get through this. He basically gave full rein to Buck and Josiah when it came to the case; nobody else needed to be involved. The only input Nathan, Ezra and JD had had on it was to write up their narratives - what they had done, seen and heard during his and Vin's rescue. Buck and Josiah had been doing all the paperwork for it - they locked themselves up in the conference room each time they needed to go over anything. The two veterans were in the conference room now going over statements or something.

Ezra was at his desk, the first time in three days, going over some detail or another for an undercover assignment he was going to do for another team. Chris had okayed his temporary assignment, saying that Team Seven probably wouldn't be getting anything major for a while anyway.

Then there was JD. He looked absolutely lost. Sure, he tried to appear as if nothing was wrong, that it was just a normal day at work. But Chris saw the emotions fighting inside him. He knew JD was angry that Paulson and his boys - fellow workers - had injured and tortured Vin, taken him away from the team. Yet, he was also angry with his own team - at Buck because he no longer seemed to have time for him. He'd gone from mothering the youngest to ignoring him. He was angry at Vin - for giving up, for not fighting back. They all knew by now that Vin refused to give a statement. And that he'd put in for a leave of absence, with the probability that he wouldn't come back.

JD was also confused. Vin or one of the others had been injured before - working as a team of six instead of seven in the office was nothing new. But now, there was no team at all. There was no morning bickering at the coffeepot. There were no paper fights. No rubber chickens to be hit with. No group orders to the local Chinese restaurant.

The ringing of the fax machine interrupted Chris's thoughts. He waited at his desk and watched the paper fall to the floor, as usual. One of these days, he thought, he'd get the stupid thing fixed. After the last piece fell, he went and picked them up and began to read.

"Shit."

Out of the office in seconds, Chris headed for the conference room. "Let's go," he called from the door, and three agents stood and followed their boss in. Josiah and Buck looked up from their work, wondering what Chris had in mind. They closed up files and piled up papers quickly.

"Ian McMurty's got a potential new client coming to town. According to one of our favorite sources, Pablo Moreno is in the market for some M-15's," he began.

When he got no response, he looked around at the five men seated haphazardly at the table.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Nathan asked.

"How can we go after McMurtry after...?" JD spoke up, but then didn't finish, not wanting to say, "after what happened to Vin?" but said, "Vin's the one with all the info. He's the one that was closest to getting in."

"I'm not too heavily into my current off-team assignment," Ezra put in, "but it will need some doing to get me out of it."

"Ezra, you can't just quit in the middle," Buck said.

"Besides, Vin's the one that had the most info on McMurtry," JD repeated. "It's his case."

"JD, Vin ain't here right now," Buck argued. "We can go on without him for now."

"I'm sure he'd want us to," Josiah added quickly.

"How can you say that?" JD frowned. "How do you know what Vin wants, Josiah? How does anyone know? He won't hardly talk to anyone. And you all are walking around like he died or something." He threw his hands up in the air in disgust, wanting answers, needing explanations, getting nothing but frustration.

Seeing an opportunity to vent his own aggravation over the changes in the team's dynamics, Nathan joined the discussion. "Well, it seems Vin ain't planning on coming back, judging from the little he is sayin'. We need to decide how we're going to handle not just the McMurtry case, but all the others Vin was a central part of."

"Vin just needs time to heal," Josiah gently argued back. "He'll come back in time, I'm sure."

"Yeah, but I can understand why he wouldn't want to with all the shit goin' around the Bureau lately," Nathan retorted. "Man can't talk to another one without the gossip circles startin' in full force."

"Well, it's sure no one's gonna be talking about me, since none of you will even give me the time of day anymore," JD retorted sarcastically.

Chris stopped listening. He knew the others were arguing back and forth about Vin and the McMurtry case and all, but he just didn't want to hear it.

"Now, JD," Buck began to say, only to be interrupted by the shrill of Chris's cell phone.

"Larabee," the man growled, upset despite the welcomed silence in the room. "Yeah. I'll be right there," he spoke into the phone before turning it off. He glanced at the five expectant faces around him. "IA wants to talk to me. Buck, take over," he said and slid the faxes over to his old friend before leaving the room.

Three grim faces exchanged glances.

"IA's investigating you?" Buck asked worriedly.

"And Vin?" Josiah chimed in.

"Uh, you know... you and Vin?" Buck asked.

Chris, Buck and Josiah sat at their favorite table at the Four Corners Bar. A loud jukebox and raucous laughter did little to dispel the air of tension between the friends.

"On grounds of 'moral turpitude.'" Chris said, grinding his teeth while the furrow that seemed to permanently mark his brow these days deepened.

"Turpitude? What the hell's that?" Buck was irritable. Ever since the debacle with Paulson everything that had to do with his and the rest of the team's lives had taken a downward spiral. He'd been trying for a week to talk to Vin without much success. He'd been trying for a week to help soothe Chris's extremely raw edges. Again without much success. And then JD and Nate had added insult to injury this afternoon in the conference room. Everyone was feeling the backlash of this disgusting mess and Buck felt powerless to make it right. Now Chris had just thrown another worry into the mix.

"Depravity," Josiah said softly when Chris failed to respond, choosing instead to stare into his beer.

"Deprav— You've got to be kidding! What the fuck do they call what Paulson and his scumbuckets did to Vin?!"

"Keep it down, Buck," Chris said, frowning harder.

"Okay, Chris," Josiah cut in. "What exactly are they asking? And what are the ramifications of your answers?"

Chris sighed deeply, scrubbing his face with his hands. His exhausted expression was reflected in his slow, tired speech. "Do Vin and I have a sexual relationship? Did I coerce Vin, threaten his job in any way to get him to... cooperate."

"Don't they need a complaint from Vin for charges like that to hold any water?" Josiah's voice was calm, reasonable, in perfect counterpoint to the anxiety that charged the veins of all three men.

"They're sayin' that our 'alleged' relationship endangered the team by causing a rift."

"Horse shit," Josiah stated.

"Wait, wait," Buck interrupted, holding up his hands. "What do they care if you two have a personal relationship? Shit. Half the damn Bureau's been in the beds of the other half. And those who haven't are just waitin' to be asked."

"You oughta know," Chris said.

Buck's mouth worked like a Venus flytrap, opening and closing silently. He blinked at his old friend a few times. A twitch in Chris's eyelid gave him away and Buck laughed heartily at the tension-breaking comment.

"Yeah, well," Buck shrugged. "It's a tough job..."

Chris smiled tightly. "You both know," he resumed in a low voice, "that the problem isn't with the fact that there is - was -" Chris made a small grimace "- a consenting adult relationship, it's with the fact that it's... homosexual." He closed his eyes and shook his head a little, still not believing all this shit was happening on top of the horror of Vin's assault and the devastation of being rejected by him. He felt like crawling into a hole.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I'm gratified to find you all assembled."

Chris opened his eyes suddenly to find Ezra joining the group.

After getting seated, Ezra continued. "Can I infer from the morose expressions around the table that you might be discussing the IA investigation?"

"Where'd you hear about that?" Chris asked sharply.

"My dear supervisor, surely you are aware that news on the office grapevine travels at twice the speed of light - and, sadly, with a surprising amount of accuracy. When I first heard the news, I thought the charge of 'turpitude' was insufficient to say the least, as I naturally assumed the charges were leveled at that vile and base creature, Conrad Paulson. But one of our more odious coworkers felt obligated to enlighten me and, to my dismay, I have discovered that the charges are being assessed on you, Mr. Larabee. I for one am appalled." Ezra punctuated the end of his speech by tossing back a shot of scotch.

The three listeners appraised him. What was he saying? That the charges were outrageous because Chris and Vin clearly didn't have a relationship or because they clearly did? No one was willing to broach the subject, thus opening it for discussion. Ezra, on the other hand, couldn't be stopped from commenting.

"Come now, gentlemen. If we're going to rectify this grievous misdeed and the others that have preceded it, we best stand united. I believe it would be fair to compare ourselves to Monsieur Dumas's Musketeers in that we are all for one and one for all. Is that not an accurate assessment? Well, then we need to start behaving as such and not like the frantic, scattered individuals we have been."

"Come to the point, Ez," Josiah rumbled.

Ezra leaned forward, forearms on the table. Looking at each friend in turn, he stopped when he got to Chris and stared him in the eye. "The point is, the fact that you and our dear friend Mr. Tanner have a private alliance in no way should be used to deter this group from its common goals, which are to bring criminals to justice and rehabilitate our fallen comrade."

Ezra cracked a peanut, popped the innards into his mouth and brushed his hands together. When no one spoke he drew his attention away from the peanut bowl and raised his eyebrows at the three gaping men. "Well? I am correct, aren't I? About the alliance, I mean."

Buck shook his head, trying to come up with a defense. Josiah sputtered, trying to do the same. Chris slid way down in his chair with a groan.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Ezra said, satisfied.

"Now, Ezra, I think you're jumpin' to conclusions," Buck finally said. "You've been listenin' to too much of that gossip and we've all been under a lot of stress and -"

"Stop it, Buck," Chris cut in quietly, laying a shushing hand on his friend's arm. "But, thanks," he added at Buck's distressed look. The Team Seven leader turned a frank expression to Ezra and said, "You want a transfer, I'll take care of it."

"Whatever in heaven for? I just told you that we need to act as a coherent group. I'm not leaving. Although I am perturbed that you really thought you could disguise this from all of us," he clucked his tongue and reached for another peanut.

"Ezra," Chris said in a measured tone, keeping his temper in check. "You have no idea how complicated this is -"

"Well, sir, perhaps if you and Mr. Tanner hadn't felt compelled to conceal your, er, arrangement, the rest of us could have stood by you sooner, faster, and better. But," Ezra shooed away the past with a brush of his hands through the air, "that's all retrospection. Right now, I believe the issue is how as a team we can overcome this barbaric charge and continue to work to restore our illustrious sharpshooter - both on the job and," Ezra softened his tone, "in his own eyes."

Chris Larabee stared intently at Ezra Standish, his look saying 'thank you' clearer than any words ever could. The two nodded at each other.

Buck cleared his throat. "Right, then. Where do we start?"

"I propose we take on the McMurtry case, close it, and prove to the disdainful IA that our team efficiency is nothing less than one hundred percent," Ezra said.

"Yeah," Buck agreed. "We all have a tie to it, but Vin's got the best contact. Maybe this will be the thing that entices him back to work." Buck sounded genuinely hopeful and, momentarily, it lit a spark of hope in Chris.

"We seem to be overlooking some obvious... obstacles," Josiah pointed out quietly. At the questioning looks of the other three, he spoke. "Nate and JD."

The four agents stared at each other, considering their options.

"We need to tell them the truth," said Josiah.

"That ain't our call. It's Chris's and Vin's," Buck countered.

"We're never going to be able to put this team back together if we don't trust each other," Josiah responded.

"I'm not too certain that Nathan will have an amenable response to this particular bit of intelligence," Ezra said, a small crease forming between his eyebrows.

"Nate? What about JD? He'll freak." The words barely escaped Buck's lips before he realized their damage. The conversation came to a halt while each man looked uncomfortably at Chris then at the tabletop or their fingernails.

"This is why," Chris seethed, "we kept it secret all along. We knew you guys would never understand. And I don't feel like fucking trying to explain it - not to any of you, not to Nathan and especially not to JD."

"Whoa, pard," Buck soothed, grabbing the arm of Chris's chair as he pushed away from the table. At his boss's murderous glare, Buck responded with a compassionate look. "Please, Chris. You don't have to explain anything to us. We're on your side, remember? But we need to figure out how to put everyone back on the same track."

Grudgingly, Chris rejoined the table. Wearing a pinched expression, he spoke slowly. "I don't expect any of you to understand what's goin' on with me and Vin." He shrugged. "I'm not sure I understand it. But, it's not something either of us takes lightly and I..."

To the murmurs of agreement and consolation, Chris shook his head. "Let me finish. I'm sorry for the outburst. You've all been... great, and I really appreciate your support." He swallowed hard then put on his business face. "So, tell me what we know about Pablo Moreno and Ian McMurtry."

The four ATF agents talked animatedly for another half-hour. During that time Chris formulated his own plan.

"Good. We'll meet at noon tomorrow. Buck, leave a voicemail for JD and Nate? Thanks. Have some tentative scenarios for the bust ready to present and we'll decide on a plan. Ezra, start scoping out where the deal is going to go down. Find strategic points for us to set up. Buck, once Ezra has everything mapped out, you decide what we're gonna need in the way of firepower and manpower. Josiah, I want you double checking our source. Make sure that the deal is going down when they said and with whom."

Chris stood, threw some bills on the table and left the bar.

"Tell him I'm sleepin', Nettie. Please?"

Chris Larabee heard Vin clear down the hallway. Even though he was trying to speak quietly, Chris could make out his words, could hear the still-raspy quality of his voice and the unmistakable plaintiveness in his tone.

"I've been putting him off for a week. Think it's high time you faced your problems together, Vin. It's not right to leave him out in the cold."

"I can't," Vin said firmly.

"You better, son, 'cause I don't think he's going away this time."

There was some murmuring and hissed whispers, but then Chris heard Vin's uneven footsteps on Nettie's hardwoods coming his way and, like a 15-year-old picking up his date for the junior prom, Chris's palms grew sweaty, his pulse quickened and his mouth went dry. He looked up when the footsteps stopped and watched as Vin grasped the corner of the wall for balance and slowly came down the two steps into the living room.

Chris checked his impulse to offer a helping hand, instead watching silently as Vin walked stiffly into the room. The man looked like unadulterated shit, but good-god-almighty Chris had never seen a prettier sight.

Vin stopped a couple of yards away from him and awkwardly stuffed his left hand into the pocket of his baggy pants. His right arm was still in a sling.

"Vin." Chris felt a ridiculous surge of pleasure just being able to say his name to his face.

"Hey."

"You're lookin' better," Chris offered.

"I look like fuckin' hell," Vin countered.

"Well... yeah." Vin hated to be shitted, so Chris wouldn't do it. It didn't matter that what he wanted to say was how gorgeous Vin looked to him, no matter now beat up he was.

The corner of Vin's mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. "Whaddaya want?"

What do I want?! Chris's mind screamed. I want to hold you. I want to take you into my arms, stroke your hair and knead the worry and fear out of your shoulders. I want to kiss you tenderly. I want to kiss you passionately. I want to tell you that I've never been so in love and never felt so beloved in all my life as when I'm with you. I want you to be by my side forever and stand proudly with me no matter who says what. I want you to laugh again. I want to love you and love you and love you.

"Chris?"

The older man blinked. "Uh, can we..." Chris cleared his throat. "...sit down?"

Vin looked annoyed, but he shuffled over to an easy chair and slowly lowered himself into it. Chris winced along with the sharpshooter as he shifted about searching for a comfortable position. At length, Vin glanced up and said, "I'm mostly better standin'."

Chris felt chagrined for not thinking of this but bit his lip, refusing to let Vin bait him. Instead he came to the point.

"McMurtry's back in business. The case is reopened."

The senior agent felt a jolt of victory when Vin's face registered interest, which he quickly masked.

"Pablo Moreno is looking to make a purchase."

"So make your bust," Vin said blankly.

"We need you."

"Don't see why."

"It's your case."

"Was."

"Is." Chris drew a calming breath. "At least come in and help with the planning. You've had the most contact and info on it. You'll best be able to tell us whether the players are gonna do what our source says they're gonna do. Can you do that?"

"Who's your source?" Vin asked.

"Jake Boninsky."

"He's always been reliable," he replied before Chris even finished saying the man's name. "Josiah knows where all my files are. I'm not coming back."

"Okay." Chris nodded, working to contain his frustration. "Okay. But, maybe you'll want to be there in the morning when I tell the team about us?"

Vin's face turned thunderous. "What the hell you talkin' about?"

"I've got a job to do and I'm counting on my team to back me up. But they can't operate under false pretenses. I'm tellin' 'em in the morning."

"Don't do it, Chris. There's no call for it," Vin said, slowly shaking his head.

"Vin," Chris tried to sound soothing. "Buck and Josiah took it fine. Now Ez knows, too. He's okay with it. Honest. So that just leaves JD and Nate. I'm gonna tell 'em and clear the air."

The sharpshooter wagged his head. "Oh man." Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and looked at Larabee. "There ain't no more 'us.' Just leave it alone."

Chris gnawed on his lower lip and squinted at his erstwhile lover. "Why're you doin' this?"

Vin blinked rapidly a few times. "Thought we been over that."

"No. You have maybe, but I'm still in the dark." Chris came out of his chair and sat on his heels in front of Vin. Placing his hand lightly on Vin's knee he looked up into his face and pleaded. "Don't cut me out. Please. Don't let that motherfucker pull us apart and for godssake don't let him get the better of you. If you do, you're giving him what he wanted all along, to diminish you, to break you. Fight it, Vin. Don't let him win!"

Vin took a deep, ragged breath. "Stop," he whispered.

"Sorry, Cowboy, I'm never gonna stop when it comes to you."

"You just can't... imagine," Vin looked away quickly.

"I was there," Chris said softly.

"Then you should know," Vin said turning his haunted blue eyes full on the man before him. "You should know what kind of hate and horror are out there for people - like us." He pushed Chris's hand aside and struggled out of the chair.

Chris stood to face him. "'People like us'? What kind of people is that, Vin?" He raised his voice. "You mean honest, hard-working people? People who stand up for each other? People others are proud to call friend?"

"I'm talkin' about men who fuck each other, goddamit! I'm talkin' about men who... love each other."

The harshly yelled words hung in the tense air between them, echoing in Chris's ears. "Yes, we do," he said softly. "Don't we?"

Vin hugged his middle with his left arm and struggled to retain his composure. "Never said I didn't."

"Then why are we having this problem?"

"Admitting it makes us vulnerable - both of us."

"So we watch each other's back more carefully." Chris stepped close to Vin; so close he could feel him trembling. He gently cupped Vin's jaw and ran his thumb lightly over his lips. Leaning in, the blond breathed deeply, inhaling the scent that controlled so many emotions in him. "I don't want to lose you," he murmured.

"Too late," came the whispered reply.

"I don't believe you." Chris's soft voice held an edge of determination.

"It's no good," Vin said, his voice breaking.

"You're wrong, Vin." He brushed a kiss across the young man's mouth. "It's everything good."

Nettie's patient squeezed his eyes shut against hot tears, and stayed that way until he heard the front door shut.

"Let's go," Chris Larabee said curtly as he strode through the Team Seven office at exactly noon.

"He's grumpier than a grizzly this mornin'," Buck observed under his breath as he and Ezra followed the small crowd into the conference room.

"Perhaps one of us should have had the foresight to bring riot control gear," Ezra replied, casting a watchful eye on the jumpy JD and wary Nathan.

"Sit." The terse command included the implied threats of 'Shut up, be prepared, and don't mess with me.' The team complied silently.

"Alright. We talked some about this yesterday and, during an informal gathering some of us had last night, we decided that reopening the case on Ian McMurtry is necessary and doable right now. In a minute, I'm going to lay out the facts that we have and then we'll open the floor to discussion. But first, there are some things I need to say. I'd have liked to never have this talk, but seems what I want don't matter anymore."

Larabee glanced around the conference table, soaking up as much of the support he saw in the faces of his three comrades as he could before turning to face the fearful, skeptical faces of his other two friends.

"What Conrad Paulson said about Vin and me, the accusations he threw around - they weren't true."

Three sets of eyebrows shot upward while the owners of two others collectively sighed in relief.

"Paulson got it all wrong," Chris resumed, ignoring the confusion he had generated. "He said we're depraved, immoral degenerates. Now, I may have slipped a rung or two down the ethical ladder in my time, but I don't think I can qualify as immoral. And Vin Tanner has more decency and higher principles than anyone I've ever known.

"Paulson tortured and near-killed one of the finest men we all know because he couldn't conceive that two people, regardless of their gender, could have strong, loving feelings for each other."

A loud gasp met this statement. "Are you saying - do you mean - ?!"

"Yeah, JD, that's what he's sayin'."

Six heads swiveled to watch Vin Tanner walk haltingly into the conference room. He stopped just behind his usual seat at the conference table, choosing not to sit just yet. Chris noticed that he wasn't wearing the sling on his right arm, but had his hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. He realized that the sharpshooter didn't want anyone to see any of his injuries, his weaknesses.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Buck finally spoke up. "Good to see ya, Vin," he said, rising from his seat to give the younger man a gentle hug and light pat on the back.

Josiah and Ezra also rose from their seats to welcome Vin back, with light pats to his left shoulder.

"Good to see you back on the job, Mr. Tanner," Ezra said.

"I'm only here for the McMurtry case, Ez," Vin replied.

"And I'm sure it will come to a successful conclusion after all this time, because of your presence," the southerner added. He was trying to get the conversation centered on the case and away from Chris's announcement. Business as usual.

"Wait a minute," JD spoke up.

Ezra sighed.

"I need to know," JD continued. "What you two are saying. That you've been... been... You guys are gay?!"

"JD-," Chris cut in, sighing.

"No!" the young agent exclaimed, pushing his chair out from the table and standing up, cutting off any response Chris had. "I can't believe this! Chris - you were married! And Vin - I've seen all kinds of pretty girls flirt with you!"

"Now, JD," Buck admonished, trying to calm him down.

"And you!" he shouted, pointing his finger at the mustached agent. "You and Josiah lied to me! You flat out lied!" he exclaimed. "You know, I think that's just as bad as finding out these two are... queers!" He headed for the door then.

"JD, you walk out that door..." Chris warned.

"And what?" the young agent asked defiantly. "I'm fired?"

"JD, please," Vin asked quietly, turning to face the door.

"Another fuckin' liar," JD aimed at Vin before leaving.

The sharpshooter closed his eyes then and bowed his head, recalling his conversation with JD in his hospital room. JD was right. Buck got up from his seat to go after him, but Chris shook his head, telling his old friend to let JD go, to give the boy some time.

"That went well," Ezra spoke lightly, breaking the silence. He ignored the deadly glares from Chris and Buck.

"Nathan?" Josiah called.

He'd been watching him since Chris broke the news. The dark man had stayed silent throughout and Josiah knew that when he spoke it would be with carefully chosen words. He'd noticed the surprised reaction on Nathan's face when Vin entered the room. But that was all he could read from the man's expression.

When Nathan found all eyes except Vin's on him, he cleared his throat. "I, uh... I'm not sure what to say," he began. "Part of me's feelin' the exact same way JD is - shocked, disappointed, repulsed, betrayed... I was brought up to believe that homosexuality is a sin. It ain't natural. It's something I can't readily accept. And y'all lied to me, too. I spent the last three weeks defending you against all those people sayin' stuff, tellin' them, 'No, they aren't.' And then the other part of me is sayin' what you do in your private life is your business, not mine. I don't know what to think," he finished speaking, shaking his head, hands in the air.

"Tell me this," Vin began, opening his eyes and turning his head to look at Nathan. "Am I any different a person than I was three weeks ago? Just because I got the living shit beat out of me, does that change who I am?"

"No," Nathan admitted. "But maybe if we knew about you and Chris, you might not have gotten the shit beaten outta you."

"Now, Nate, don't you go blamin' Vin for what Paulson and his goons did!" Buck shouted defensively.

"He's right," Vin added at the same time, now leaning heavily on the chair before him.

"He's not blaming Vin," Josiah began, hoping to calm down the situation.

"Enough!" Chris shouted, getting everyone's attention. "And Vin, sit down before you fall down," he added. "This is exactly what we wanted to avoid. If we're to remain as a team, to do the jobs we swore we'd do - stop gun dealers like Ian McMurtry and Pablo Moreno and put away people like Conrad Paulson - then we've got to start acting like a team again." He watched as his men nodded their heads solemnly. "I know that Buck, Josiah and Ezra are willing to work with us," he began again, glancing at Vin. "I can't make you stay, Nate. I can only ask, and hope you realize that right here, right now, we've got a job to do, regardless of what Vin and I do or have done off duty."

"Nathan," Josiah called quietly. "You once told me about the time in your academy when one of your instructors wouldn't let you be a squad leader. Even though you had the grades and the support of the other rookies. And even though the woman never flat out said it, you knew why, didn't you?"

Before Nathan could reply, there was a knock at the door. Chris reluctantly opened the door and spoke with one of the department secretaries. After accepting the sheet of paper the woman handed him, he closed the door again. He turned around with a grim look on his face.

"IA wants to meet with everyone," he said. "Vin - according to this, they've been 'unable to contact you' and therefore, 'whenever I can find you,' they want to see you."

"Well, that sure sounds like you won't be seein' each other for a while," Buck responded, conspiratorially.

"Buck, you get to see them this afternoon, at two," Chris continued, ignoring his old friend's remark. "Josiah at three, Nathan at four. JD and Ezra tomorrow morning at eight and nine."

"What about McMurtry?" Vin asked quietly. It was, after all, the main reason he'd come.

"We've got time," Chris replied. "Besides, who knows, after IA gets through with all of us, we may not have any more cases," he added bitterly.

"Chris, don't you remember anything about what we talked about last night?" Buck cut in sharply. "What the hell happened to that 'all for one, one for all' stuff Ezra spouted?"

"I'm still in," Josiah volunteered.

"As am I," Ezra agreed.

"And you know I ain't gonna go down without a fight," Buck added fiercely.

"We're here to fight the bad guys," Nathan put in, when prompted.

Vin just nodded his head, silently agreeing with Nathan's words.

"That just leaves JD," Chris said.

"I'll get that boy to listen," Buck practically growled, standing up.

"No, Buck," Chris said. "I'll talk to him."

JD sat on the floor of the parking garage, leaning up against the wall. He still couldn't believe it - Vin and Chris! Images of the two men kissing and doing other things came to his mind and he was instantly disgusted. How could they? And how could they have lied to him? And not just Vin and Chris - all of them lied - especially Buck.
The young agent hugged his arms around his knees. How many hours, months, years had he spent with these men... off the job, at the local saloon or on fishing trips... on the job, side by side in gunfights, or cooped up in small places during surveillance operations...

How could he trust them again? How could he work with them, knowing what they do with each other? As if his thoughts had a life of their own, Chris Larabee suddenly appeared by his side, sitting in like fashion with his knees drawn up, back against the wall.

"Stay, JD." Chris laid a hand on the young man's arm when he made a move to rise. "Please."

JD jerked his arm away. "Don't touch me."

Chris tried not to flinch at the blatant revulsion on the young agent's face.

"Got nothing to say to you right now, Chris," JD said. He hugged his arms to his chest and turned his face away from his boss.

"I guess I can understand that. But I wish you'd give me a chance to explain -"

"What the hell did you think you were doin', Chris?!" JD burst out, his claim of speechlessness forgotten. "For godssake, when did you suddenly figure out you were gay?! And didn't you think it was something the rest of us ought to know?"

"Why?" Chris seemed genuinely perplexed.

JD stared nonplussed at the older man. "Why? Because - well, it changes things."

"What things?"

"Everything!"

"No it doesn't, JD. Everything's the same as far as we're concerned. As far as all the team's concerned if you all don't make such a big issue out of this. I know it's a shock. I know it makes you uncomfortable. But Vin and I are the same two men you've known and trusted and been friends with for years. None of that is any different."

JD stared hard at the man he had thought he knew. Shaking his head, he made a dismissive face and turned away.

"How can I make this better?"

"You can't, Chris. You just can't."

At length, the lawman asked, "Why does it bother you so much?"

"Because... what you two do together. I mean, it's... I can't think about it." His face wore an open expression of repugnance.

"Then don't!" Larabee's voice took on an edge, betraying his tenuous grasp on patience. "Trust me, JD, I don't spend any time pondering about what you and Casey do together. None of my business. And it doesn't have a thing to do with how you do your job, or whether or not I trust you, which I do. Implicitly. What does it matter what Vin or I do privately?

JD shrugged, unable to put up an adequate fight against Chris's reasoning.

"I'm not gonna apologize to you for what I do with my personal life. It just pure and simple has nothing to do with you and it shouldn't have anything to do with our friendship. But I am sorry I lied to you, JD. I truly am."

"Hmmph."

"It's hard to trust when you've been deceived."

"Yeah, well, you can be sure I ain't never gonna trust you or believe you ever again."

"Why, JD? Because I didn't come to you in the beginning and say, 'Hey, JD, what would you think if I told you I think I'm fallin' for your friend Vin?'"?

"Stop it, Chris. That's sick."

A long moment of silence fell between the estranged friends. At length, JD snuck a look at the blond man beside him. He looked so pained that the young agent had a moment's fear that he might cry.

"See, JD," Chris said softly. "That's just the kind of reaction we thought we'd get if we didn't keep it a secret. So we lied."

The young agent dropped his knees and stared hard at his hands in his lap. He had thought the idea of Chris and Vin being sex partners was what bothered him most, but now he was beginning to think it was the huge betrayal that was worse.

Larabee's soft voice intruded on his thoughts. "Isn't that what's eatin' atcha? That me and Vin did something none of the rest of you knew about and tried to make sure we kept it secret?"

Goddamnit, JD thought. Was he so transparent or was Chris some kind of mind reader?

"Isn't it about being left out of the loop?" Chris continued. "Well, none of the others knew, either, 'til... 'til Paulson."

"Bullshit." JD cut a look of distrust in Chris's direction.

"I swear. We thought we were being discreet and that nobody knew." The senior agent shook his head slowly, a forlorn expression sweeping across his face. "Obviously, we were wrong."

"Boy, I'll say," JD mumbled. He was tired of this discussion; it was only making him more confused and moodier. He stood.

Chris got to his feet like a tired old man, JD thought. It gave him a start to suddenly realize that Chris was fallible and hurting. His conscience began a slow gnaw. The wide green eyes of his one-time trusted friend searched his face for some sign of acquiescence and JD felt fleetingly that maybe he was overreacting.

When Chris held out his hand, JD sighed deeply and held out a tentative hand in return.

"We'll work through it, JD. I really need you to stick with us to get McMurtry."

Although JD didn't consent, he didn't decline either and the ATF team leader clasped a grateful hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Jesus God, Larabee. Isn't he a little young, even by your standards?"

The agents turned as one toward the source of this derision. Tom Akers, senior Team Four agent, stood snickering at the pair. The flush of embarrassment that engulfed JD's cheeks also made him sick to his stomach and, with a moan of misery, he lurched toward the doors leading from the garage back into the office building. Whatever Larabee had to say to Tom Akers, JD didn't want to know.

His left hand massaging his aching temples, Chris Larabee used his right to thrust open the door to his team's office.

Buck, Josiah, Nathan and Ezra had their heads together over Buck's desk.

"What is it?" Chris asked, approaching the group.

Josiah took the role of spokesman. "Paulson. He made bail."

Four worried faces assessed their leader. That man gritted his teeth and made a quick survey of the room.

"Where's Vin? He know?"

"Finally decided to talk to IA," Buck said with wonderment.

"Shit." Chris Larabee's headache just worsened.

When Chris reached the Office of Internal Affairs, he brusquely pushed past the secretary and walked into the interrogation room.

"Get out, Larabee," Steve Dowd ordered, coming out of his chair.

"I've got every right to be here. Agent Tanner is under my supervision," Chris countered, not even looking at the man, but settling his gaze upon Vin.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Dowd interrupted, not bothering to hide the laughter in his voice.

Chris caught the way Vin winced at the IA man's words, saw the momentary closing of his eyes, the clench of his jaw. Choosing to ignore the gibe, Chris planted his hands on the table before him and glared at the Internal Affairs agent before continuing. "And since he is under my supervision, you should have notified me of any plans to interview him, and also given him ample time to arrange for union representation. I received no such notification and there is no union representative in this room. Furthermore, Agent Tanner is on sick leave. He can barely stay upright. Any answers he may give to your line of questioning could be considered given under duress, and therefore thrown out of any investigation you've got going."

"Chris," Vin began with a sigh. "I'm fine. I just want to get some of this bullshit outta the way, so we can get on with the McMurtry case."

"And his union representative is now here," Ezra announced as he entered the room, putting his briefcase on the table and taking a seat next to Vin.

Chris looked at Ezra quickly and then at Vin again, seeing the determination in his eyes to get the procedure over and done with. He gave in with a slight nod, before saying, "As long as it is duly noted that Investigating Agent Dowd seems to have some preconceived bias against Agent Tanner," turning to glare at Dowd again as he said it.

"Agent Tanner is here to give his statement of facts concerning his recent abduction and subsequent torture. Nothing else," Ezra put in, looking at Vin first, then Chris and Dowd, in turn.

After a moment, when all the men seemed to agree to the interview, Vin began. "I went to the park to meet with Tommy Wilkes, one of my snitches..."

Vin relayed the incident in the most cursory way possible. When Agent Dowd repeatedly interjected questions, Vin's answers became curt and monosyllabic until he quit telling the story and simply waited for the investigator to ask questions. Chris tried to intercede, but Dowd cut him short as well and the small congregation became a hotbed of pent-up hostility.

"So," Dowd resumed, "You were released from the chains by your captors? Why didn't you attempt to escape at that point?"

"He was practically unconscious!" Chris yelled in disbelief.

"I'm warning you, Agent Larabee," Dowd said tightly, "These questions are for Agent Tanner and his representative. Keep your mouth shut." He returned his attention to Vin.

"They threw me over the back of a chair and chained me up again."

"And what was the purpose of that?"

Vin stared at Dowd with blatant hatred, but eventually dropped his eyes to the tabletop and shook his head.

"Tell me what they did with the whip handle."

Vin raised his head suddenly and gripped the arm of his chair tightly, turning his knuckles white. His jaw clenched and a muscle over his eye twitched. "You sonof - "

Chris slapped the table with his palms and leapt from his chair. "Goddammit, Dowd!"

"Sir." Ezra spoke up, cutting a look at Chris and laying a repressing hand on Vin's arm before fixing Dowd with his coolest glare. "You have the full medical report, which outlines the specifics of Agent Tanner's treatment at the hands of his abductors. Agent Larabee has detailed to you what he witnessed..."

Vin gasped and looked harshly at his estranged lover.

"... and Agent Tanner is in obvious physical and emotional distress. There is no need for him to recount every detail of his horrendous ordeal. He has cooperated fully by disclosing the events as they took place. Can you not conclude without asking him to restate facts that are already established?"

Interrogator and defender sized each other up. At length Dowd unpursed his lips and spoke. "Very well. But if Agent Larabee makes one more sound, he's out of here."

"You won't know he's here," Ezra said assuredly not bothering to look at the subject himself.

With Dowd's prodding and Vin's meager responses, the story unfolded.

"... And so, Agent Tanner," Dowd said as he made some more notations on the yellow legal pad before him, "Is it safe to conclude that your relationship with Agent Larabee was the motive behind the attack?"

Ezra was about to object to the question when Vin pounded his fist on the table and shouted, "NO! It's NOT 'safe to conclude!' Agent Larabee and I work with each other. We're friends. Nothing more. Never have been more'n that, never will be."

Chris felt his chest constrict at the words. He knew somehow that they'd be coming. Hell, Vin had told him at Nettie's that it was over between them. But his vehement denial of their relationship to the IA agent made it seem so much more final, more permanent. He also knew that it had to be said. For Vin's sake. For his. For the team's.

"So you and Larabee are not in a homosexual relationship?" Dowd asked.

"What the hell did he just tell you?! What did I tell you?!" Chris cut in.

"Gentlemen, if I may," Ezra spoke up. "Please, let us get to the matter at hand. Agent Paulson and his men are the ones that should be under scrutiny, here. They are the ones that inflicted unspeakable horrors on Agent Tanner - "

"Exactly, Agent Standish," Dowd interrupted. "And I aim to find out why," he added, looking at Vin and Chris. "Now, Agent Tanner," he continued. "Do you think you deserved what you got?"

"Do you fuckin' believe that asshole?" Vin muttered as they walked back toward their offices. "Askin' me if I felt I deserved to get beaten up. How the hell can - ,"

"Let it go, Vin," Chris replied, extending a hand toward Vin's healthy shoulder, but pulling it back when he noticed two coworkers approaching. "Dowd's an asshole, just like you said. But when it came to the investigation, Ezra took good care of it, kept all the questions on track, even when Dowd brought Jenkins's statements into it."

"I did my best, anyway," Ezra said. Even he knew that the rumors about Chris and Vin's relationship could not be erased by any statements, denials or union representation. "All we can do is keep up a positive appearance," he gave Chris a meaningful look, having noticed the subtle gesture he stifled as the other ATF employees passed them, "and continue to do our jobs well, ignoring any deliberate attempts to sully your reputations."

"You did fine, Ez," Vin sighed, giving the southerner a tired smile. "Thanks."

"Just doing my duty as your local union representative, Mr. Tanner," he returned. "And, as your friend," he added gently.

Chris was about to convey his thanks to Ezra as well, when he saw Vin start to sway. He reached out quickly and grabbed the younger man around his waist while Ezra grabbed Vin's left arm. "Whoa there, Vin, you okay?" he asked with concern.

"Just tired," he replied quickly, shrugging off the helping hands. "Haven't had my afternoon nap yet, you know," he added sarcastically. He was tired. Tired of feeling weak. Hated that his friends had to prevent him from falling on his face. Tired of the whole fucking mess he was in.

"Shit, shoulda known," Chris muttered, shaking his head. "I'll drive you back to Nettie's," he offered, reaching for his keys. "You should be in bed."

"I'm fine now," Vin replied quickly. "Besides, Nettie's taking me," he looked at his watch, "in about an hour. Until then I can get you guys my files on McMurtry, get this thing goin'."

"You sure?" the blond asked, taking a careful look at his young friend, former lover, wanting nothing more than to comfort him.

"I'm fine, Chris," Vin replied again, knowing what Chris had been thinking, wanting to be able to lie in Chris's bed again. He began his slow ambling walk down the hallway, wanting to get to the safety of the group in the team's office. Get to his files. Get Chris off his mind.

When they arrived at the office, Chris was happy to see JD at his desk, poring over some files on his computer. The young agent had looked up briefly as the three men entered, but then returned his gaze to his computer screen.

Vin made his way over to his own desk and started going through the file drawer.

"How'd it go, pard'?" Buck asked, sidling up to sit on the edge of the desk.

"Okay," the sharpshooter replied quietly. "Thanks to Ezra."

"Yup, that silver-tongued devil can talk the sting out of a bee," the mustached agent smiled. "That's why we elected him to be our union rep."

"And if you're quite ready, Mr. Wilmington," the southerner called, "I do believe you are next to speak with the bee."

Vin reviewed and organized the files he had that would help the team bring McMurtry down and neatly placed them on Chris's desk while the senior agent once again rode shotgun against a Dowd inquiry. Leaving the boss's office he walked hesitantly across the room to JD's desk.

"Can we talk?"

"Don't really have anything I want to say to you," JD answered, not taking his eyes from his computer screen.

"JD. Please. I don't expect you to understand. I just want to tell you why I lied to you."

The youngest team member heaved a sigh. "Go away, Vin. No excuse is good enough."

The sharpshooter hovered without speaking.

"You're bothering me, Vin."

"JD?"

With a huff, the young agent turned his attention to his former friend. "It's all your fault, Vin," he hissed. "All your fault. Chris was just a regular guy 'til you came along. We all were just fine. Then you showed up and now look." JD gulped down his emotions. "We're a big fucking mess..." His voice faded as he pushed his way past Vin, who stood as if stricken with fists.

JD swept through the office and slammed his way out the door. Noticing the commotion, Nathan approached Vin.

"What's going on?"

"Nothin'." Vin moved slowly, purposefully toward his desk, Nathan trailing.

"Vin, I want to say, to tell you, that is, I'm real sorry. I know this has gotta be harder than anything and I don't want to make it any worse for you. That is to say, uh, that I'm here for you, Vin."

Vin nodded vaguely, straightening his already empty desktop.

"Vin? You okay?"

"Tell... I'm going upstairs... waitin' on Nettie," he spoke feebly, pushing aside Nathan's helping hand. "Really, Nate. I'm... fine."

The elevator door shushed open and Vin Tanner stepped out slowly. The day had already proven more physically demanding than he'd bargained for and the emotional toll was getting too heavy to bear. He needed out. At least he could hide in Nettie's office until she was ready to leave.

Human Resources had recently relocated to the back hallway on the twelfth floor, which otherwise was undergoing renovations. Vin passed through carpetless, patched hallways and numerous empty offices in search of HR's new quarters. He heard voices in the back of one room and paused. He thought Nettie had told him the offices were elsewhere on this floor.

Then he heard JD's voice. "He won't fall for it."

"Make the call anyway."

Vin went lightheaded with dread.

"Vin isn't stupid. I just blew him off. He won't believe it if I tell him I want to meet him up here to talk."

"Then call him and tell him I've got his other little sweet friend and he'd better get his faggy-ass up here if he doesn't want you to get some of the same as he got," snarled the other voice.

Vin stepped into the shadowy office space, the only light coming from a construction lantern in the adjoining room.

"Get away from him, Paulson."

Conrad Paulson patted JD's head harshly and snickered. "See? You did fine without even trying. He's here already. Welcome to our little party. Come in and shut the door."

"No, Vin! Go!"

Paulson slapped JD across the face with the back of his hand. "Shut up, punk!"

Vin backed up toward the door, glancing over his shoulder, sizing up his chances of getting away and seeking help quickly.

A glint of steel and the clicks of a gun being racked and charged changed his mind. JD became Paulson's pawn in the game of revenge he'd come to exact against Vin.

"Leave him outta this. You got a gripe with me, we'll deal with it. Just us. He goes." Vin nodded at JD but kept his eyes on the maniac who held him. The sharpshooter wished he had a weapon of any sort on him right now, but he was not only unarmed, he was one-armed. The sick irony of it almost made him laugh.

"Oh, but this is so much more fun, the three of us." Paulson tightened his grip around JD's throat and pushed the gun, with its now-visible silencer, snugly against the young man's temple. JD's wide eyes glinted in the dim light. Vin knew his fear. His own mouth went dry with apprehension.

"What do you want?" Vin tried to ignore the ferocious beating of his heart and too-rapid breaths that made it hard for him to talk.

Paulson gave off a high-pitched cackle that raised the fine hairs along Vin's arms and neck. "Ooooh, what a delicious request. Let me think," he mocked, lightly tapping the gun muzzle against his captive's head.

"First, let's have you over here, away from the door."

Against his instincts, Vin walked stiffly, fearfully into the chamber with his nemesis.

"Now get on your knees."

A flash of recollection went through Vin's mind and he saw himself falling helplessly, painfully onto his knees in front of Chris and his torturers while the blood flowed from his body and the will from his soul.

In a moment's madness Vin threw himself at Paulson, reaching out to knock the gun away from JD's head. The younger agent staggered backward from the force as Vin and Paulson grappled for control of the weapon.

Vin heard JD hit the wall with a moan. It seemed Vin was on his own. And his strength was nonexistent. Sheer frustration and anger spurred him enough to put up a fight, but after only a short struggle, Paulson knocked him off his feet and the two landed heavily on the floor, Vin pinned beneath the larger, heavier, healthier man, who maintained control of the gun.

Vin gasped for breath to tamp down the nausea that swept through him as each of his newly insulted injuries called for attention. Looking up at Paulson, Vin was certain he glimpsed the face of insanity.

"You thought you could get away with blaming me for problems you've brought on yourself?" Paulson's breath was thick with the odors of whiskey and cigars - just as Vin remembered. He felt panic encroaching. "You're as weak-minded as you are weak-willed," the older man rebuked as he shoved the gun into Vin's mouth and stared into his face. "Any last requests, pretty man?" he sneered.

"Paulson."

The man on top of Vin jerked his head in the direction of the new voice.

Vin felt relief surge through his veins and he shifted his eyes as much as he could to see Chris Larabee backlit in the doorway of the room, his duty weapon steadily aimed at Paulson.

"You got two seconds to back off before I kill you."

Vin twitched his head a fraction and caught Chris's eye. With a blink, the ATF leader signaled Vin, who shoved Paulson and his weapon up and away. Paulson swiftly regained control of his gun and discharged it at Chris who simultaneously squeezed his trigger. Paulson's brains rained down on Vin.

In the stunning silence that followed, Vin rolled out from under Paulson's remains and retched.

"Vin? You okay?" Josiah asked, placing a steadying hand on Vin's shoulder.

The sharpshooter nodded his head as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He vaguely wondered how Josiah came to be there so soon but dismissed the thought as the realization of what happened hit him. He turned and was just about to call for Chris when he saw him lying motionless in the doorway.

"Chris!" he shouted and lunged forward toward the fallen man. Nathan was there, applying pressure to the bullet wound in Chris's chest. "Chris?" he whispered, his eyes begging the medic for good news.

"Took one in the chest. He's havin' some trouble breathin' but the ambulance is on the way," Nathan reported.

"Oh, God!" Vin cried, reaching out to put a hand to Chris's cheek. "Don't you leave me, Larabee!" Not now, his mind screamed in panic. In a burst of clarity, Vin knew he'd been wrong about how to counter the accusations. He knelt low over the unresponsive man. "I need you," he whispered desperately.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Vin." Another voice. Vin looked up to see JD stagger towards them, trying his best to avoid Paulson's remains.

"JD?" he rasped, horrified that he'd almost forgotten the youngest team member was in the room, too. That he'd almost become Paulson's next victim. It was all too much. Vin slumped back against the wall and watched as paramedics arrived and surged into action around Chris's still form.

JD stood in the hallway outside the radiology suite. The others were upstairs in the surgical waiting room, waiting for news on Chris. He scratched absently at the sore spot on top of his head, winced and cursed himself for forgetting. He'd gotten half a dozen stitches for the wound he received when he hit the wall and a pile of tools on the floor after Vin shoved him out of Paulson's grasp. But he'd passed all the medical tests and been released.

Half an hour earlier, he managed to get Buck and Nettie, who'd been waiting on Vin, to join Josiah, Ezra and Nathan upstairs, saying he had some unfinished business to attend to. He didn't have to elaborate. He knew by the reassuring hug from Nettie and the wink Buck had given him that they understood.

Some of that unfinished business was still upstairs in surgery. More was now being pushed toward him in a wheelchair.

"I can take him," he told the nurse pushing Vin. "Room two-fifteen, right?" he asked. The nurse looked somewhat unsure about leaving his charge. "You can meet us there...in about ten minutes?" JD added, with a pleading look. A nod from Vin convinced the nurse and he handed over the re-injured agent.

"You okay, JD?" Vin asked as they began their trip.

"Better than you, I guess," the younger man replied quietly. "Buck said your shoulder got screwed up again. That you're gonna need surgery on it this time."

"Yeah, just when I was gettin' able to pull up my own zipper again."

JD let out a quiet chuckle before turning serious. "I...uh... I just want to thank you, Vin," he stammered. "For what happened...for saving me... Even after everything I said to you..."

Vin reached for the wheelchair's brake and pulled it, stopping them in their tracks. He turned his head to look up and back at JD before grabbing JD's shirt and pulling him down to his side. JD dropped to his knees quickly, surprised by Vin's sudden strength.

"JD, you had every right to say those things to me," Vin began, his eyes easily showing the guilt he was still feeling. "We lied to ya. To everyone. Just hopin' to avoid all this." He paused, and set his gaze onto the floor. "But it happened anyway and all we did was hurt each other in the end, huh?" he finished.

"Chris told me why you lied," the younger man replied, moving his body so he could look Vin in the eyes. "I guess I was just too hurt to see reason. To see past my own prejudices."

"Can ya now?" the sharpshooter asked tentatively. "Can ya see that we ain't any different than before ya found out?"

"I'm trying," JD replied honestly. "It's still something I gotta get used to. I guess like Chris said, what you and he do together isn't something I'd choose to do, but as long as it doesn't affect work, it isn't any of my business."

After a long moment of silence, Vin offered his hand to JD. "Friends?" he asked.

"Friends," JD replied, clasping the offered hand.

"Good, now let's head up to see how Chris is doing," Vin said.

"But I told the nurse -,"

"Fuck 'im."

The two hadn't been in the waiting room with Nettie and the others for long when the surgical team entered.

"How is he?" Seven voices at once.

"He's going to be just fine," one of the doctors replied. "The bullet broke a rib and punctured his left lung, about here," he continued, pointing to an area high on his chest. "He'll be in ICU for a few days for starters, though."

"Can I see him?" Vin asked.

The doctor looked curiously at the man in the wheelchair. He didn't look too much better than the man he'd just spent two hours patching up.

"He's Chris's next of kin," Buck put in, hopeful.

The doctor nodded his head. "Just for a few minutes."

Chris floated on a wave. Lifted and dropped rhythmically, he felt lulled, lethargic. Then the wave grew and grew until he was at its peak and the crest could no longer hold his weight. Crashing down, the force of the wave slammed him with a fury, leaving him breathless with pain.

The wind sang a soothing song in his ear and the pain ebbed along with the remnants of the wave. The wind shifted and the song became a soft chant. It's okay. I'm here. It's okay. I'm here.

He pried his eyes open toward the source of the sound and felt a surge of relief so great tears sprang to his eyes.

"Chris? What is it? You need the doc?"

Larabee raised a weak hand, placing it on Vin's cheek. Soothing away the worry with his thumb, he smiled feebly. "You're okay."

Grasping Chris's hand, Vin gently stroked and kneaded the fingers. "Better'n you by a damn sight," he said softly.

"You're back... in a... sling."

Vin gave a lopsided shrug. "Fer a short while."

"JD?"

"He's fine. Bump on the head's all."

Chris grimaced against another stab of pain and felt Vin's pressure on his hand increase in reassurance. An image of Paulson pinning Vin to the floor then aiming his gun at him flashed through his mind. When the pain subsided he opened his eyes. "And Paulson? Did I kill 'im?"

"Dead as they get."

Again, Larabee felt a rush of relief. "Good."

"I'm sorry it came to that, Chris. There's gonna be a mess of reports and inquiries and shit. If I hadn't been so stubborn... "

Chris made a face of annoyance. "Bullshit. You didn't... make me do it. He did. He did it to himself." His voice was scratchy and he tried to lick his lips, overcome with thirst.

Vin touched a damp cloth to his mouth and Chris sucked on it urgently. "More," he demanded as Vin withdrew the cloth.

"Gotta take it slow..." Vin said reaching for an ice chip, "... right after surgery."

"Shuddup," Chris replied sticking out his tongue eagerly.

"Cranky ol' cuss when yer not feelin' good," Vin muttered.

"What's that... damn... noise?" Larabee asked gasping between jabs of pain.

"The machine that's hooked to the tube stuck in your lung."

Chris groaned.

"Hurts like shit, don't it?"

"You enjoyin'... this?" Chris squinted suspiciously at Vin.

"Every minute," Vin replied with a wink. But his levity evaporated quickly. Drying his fingertips on the blanket, he took Chris's hand back into his own and cleared his throat. "Chris - "

Larabee felt panic sweep through him.

"I gotta tell ya - "

"Not now." Chris's voice was strained. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away and extracting his fingers from Vin's.

Uneasy silence settled between them. Chris wished Vin would go away. He already knew what Vin had to say and now was not a real good time in his estimation. He hadn't felt this full out hellish in a long, long time. Kind of gave him a new appreciation for all the damage Vin seemed to sustain regularly.

He heard the injured sharpshooter draw a shaky breath and fumble with the wheelchair, trying to get it backed up using his one good arm. Chris turned his head to watch and his heart contracted at the sight of the worn out, battered man trying to maintain his dignity while battling a recalcitrant piece of machinery.

"Wait, Vin. Say... what you got to say."

"It can wait." Tanner's mouth said one thing, his forlorn expression another.

"Talk." Chris tried to look Vin in the eye. To look defiant and sturdy. He doubted he was really coming across that way.

Vin pulled himself up close to the bedside but suddenly looked like he was reconsidering. He fidgeted with the guardrail then breathed in deeply and spoke in a rush on the exhale. "Remember when we were in the basement? When I tried to talk to you but passed out?"

Chris nodded. He remembered and the vision caused more pain to his chest than the damned tube that invaded there now.

"I was trying to say - to tell you that I don't care what anyone thinks about us. That I would stand by you forever, no matter what happens. It doesn't matter what other people think or say."

Hearing the words he ached to hear for so long caused Chris's heart to thunder, not because he was finally hearing them, but because he knew they signaled a bomb yet to drop.

"But I proved myself a liar. Seems I do care."

And there it was.

"This whole thing scared me shitless, Chris, and I acted... stupidly. In fact, all I did was react, without thinking at all."

"You did what anyone - "

"No. Anyone with a spine would have stood up for what he believes in. I was just a scared rabbit runnin' away from the truth."

Chris fumbled his hand along the bed to find and grasp Vin's.

"What is the truth, Vin?"

Vin glanced away quickly then gulped. "I... need you," he whispered, returning his gaze to Chris's fearful face. Clearing his throat, he spoke a little louder. "I want you."

Chris stared into the young man's sapphire eyes, brimming with unshed tears. "That mean you love me?" Chris didn't mean for it to, but his voice sounded daring, defiant. He didn't want to leave anything to chance or misunderstanding.

"Yeah. I sure do." Vin gave a small abrupt nod, sending twin tears into freefall before landing on the lovers' entwined hands.

The corner of Larabee's mouth spasmed against the urge to cry. "You sure?"

Vin inhaled and studied the weave of the bedspread. At last he lifted his gaze to stare directly at Chris. "I still feel the same way I did before Paulson. No. Even more. I just... lost sight of that fer a spell. I thought saving face and stopping ugly rumors was more important. I was wrong. Real, real wrong."

Chris Larabee - ATF team leader, ruthless law enforcer - couldn't manage a word around the lump lodged in his throat.

"But are you sure?"

"Huh?" Chris croaked.

"I don't ever want you to get hurt for loving me, Chris. But it keeps happening. And, I'm the one's been doin' most the hurting lately. You sure you want to keep doing this? With me, I mean?"

A hybrid cry -laugh erupted from Chris's throat. "Who else'd have... either one... of us?"

Vin grinned with one corner of his mouth, blinking back the wetness that kept seeping from his eyes.

"Vin?" Chris whispered the name. "Come... here. Closer."

Vin leaned low over the man on the bed.

"Tell me, flat out."

The young man skimmed a warm kiss against Chris's lips. "I love you, Chris Larabee."

THE END