"As a Christmas angel you've been given a wonderful chance to go back and relive a special time in your life. It is up to you which one. The time of crisis we spoke of has arrived and you will be allowed to spend some time with him but it has to be something you both shared in life. New memories are not allowed."
She smiled as she thought of the man she loved and the child they'd produced. The first Christmas as a family. "I know where I want to go," she whispered, her quicksilver voice soft and lilting as she basked in the idea of being with her husband one final time.
"Chris, why the hell didn't you just stay home?"
"Nathan," Larabee turned and grabbed for the box of tissues on his desk as a harsh cough tore from his lungs. "I'm fine. It's just a cold," he said as he turned back to the medic.
"Yeah, well, that cold's not gonna get any better if you don't start looking after it. Now why don't you let Vin drive you home and you can stop spreading your germs all over the office?" Jackson ordered.
"I said I'm fine," Larabee tried again, swallowing painfully against his sore throat.
"Chris?"
"Ah, hell, Nathan, I'm not in the mood to argue anymore. Vin!" he called.
"What?" Tanner asked as he stuck his head in the door. "Ya sound like shit, Cowboy," he grinned as his best friend started coughing once more.
"Thanks, Vin, you're all heart."
"Vin, I want you to drive Chris home and make damn sure he stays there," Jackson ordered.
"I don't need a babysitter," Larabee's scratchy voice mumbled.
"Come on, Chris, I'll get ya home and tuck ya in bed before I come back and finish that paperwork."
Larabee rubbed his aching head and nodded. "If it means you'll get the paperwork done then I'll go home to bed."
"Chris, take some aspirin and don't come back until that cold is gone," Jackson ordered.
Larabee turned from the medic and reached for his heavy black jacket. He looked towards the window where snow continued to fall covering the town of Billings in a blanket of white. The brightly colored Christmas lights adorning most of the buildings and homes reminded him that Christmas was just a short four days away. The sound of Jingle Bells emanated from a small radio on JD Dunne's desk and Chris managed a small smile before once more breaking into a harsh bout of coughing.
"Aspirin and bed," Jackson called after the retreating man. "And plenty of fluids."
"Sure, Nathan," Larabee called as he stopped by Wilmington's desk and picked up the box of tissues, barely pulling two out in order to cover his nose as he sneezed four consecutive times.
"Damn, Stud, go home to bed."
"Don't you start, Buck," Larabee ordered as he walked towards the elevators, Buck's box of tissues still in his hands.
"You sure you don't want me to stay, Chris?"
"Vin, I'm not a kid," he said as he closed the door of Vin Tanner's Jeep. "Look, I'm just gonna do as Nathan says and go to bed."
"Alright, Cowboy," Tanner grinned. "I'll come back and check on you after work."
Larabee nodded and wrapped his coat around his body, hitching up the collar in an effort to keep the thick flakes of snow from sliding down his neck. "Damn, it's cold," he shivered as he turned and hurried towards his house. He opened the door and walked inside, nodding to his friend that he could leave.
Chris watched the Jeep as it pulled out of his front yard and let the door close slowly behind him. He groaned as he pulled off his coat, his body a mass of aches and pains as he hung the jacket in the closet by the door. He held his chest as another bout of coughing struck him and swore loudly. He hurried to the kitchen fumbling for the bottle of Aspirin he kept there. He poured two into his hands and added another one for good measure. He grabbed a glass and poured water from the bottle in the fridge. He swallowed painfully and looked out his kitchen window.
Larabee smiled as he thought of the beautiful animal he kept there. He knew Pony was warm in the barn but he wanted to make sure. Grabbing his scarf he hurried out the door and pushed through the six inches of snow already on the ground. Nathan's gonna kill me, he thought as he made his way to the barn, coughing harshly.
He felt the snow entering his shoes as he shuffled through it. He grabbed the door leading into the barn and entered quickly, shivering against the chill seeping into his bones. Damn, should've grabbed my coat, he thought as he rubbed his hands briskly over his arms. "Hey, Boy, how're you doing?" he asked as he entered the clean, dry stall, smiling at the answering whinny from the beautiful horse. "Guess that means your alright," Larabee coughed again and held his chest. "Guess I should've done as Nathan told me," he smiled weakly as he brushed the shiny coat. "Sorry, Boy, I need to go lie down," he rasped as he replaced the brush, made sure Pony had plenty of feed and patted the animal on the rump. "I'll get Vin to check on you when he comes out here," he explained as he turned to the door and hurried out into the cold morning snowstorm.
Once more he fought his way through the snow and made it into his house before his exhausted body gave out. He slid to the floor and waited for the room to stop spinning. Shivering and miserable he stood on shaky legs and stumbled towards his room.
He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes and wet socks. He shivered and coughed as he pulled off his black turtleneck sweater and the black jeans he often wore. He stood up and pulled down the blankets, sliding his sick and feverish body into the warmth he knew he'd find there. He reached for the box of tissues on the night table and placed them on the bed within easy reach. He waited for the trembling to stop, coughing harshly as he tried to find a comfortable spot. Finally his body gave into the exhaustion and he slept, his raspy breathing the only sound in the quiet house.
Vin pulled into the yard, amazed at the amount of snow that continued to fall. So far they'd accumulated nearly a foot of the fluffy white stuff and the weather man promised more would fall overnight. Larabee paid a man to come plough the snow from his driveway and Tanner was glad to see the job was already done. He turned to the man beside him as he stopped the Jeep. "Ya know he's gonna think you..."
"It doesn't matter what he thinks," Jackson interrupted. "The stubborn fool is probably in the barn or shovelling snow or some other stupid thing he thinks needs to be done no matter what."
Tanner smiled as the medic opened his door and climbed out. "I'll go check on Pony," he told the medic as they hurried towards the house.
"Alright, Vin," Jackson agreed as Vin used his key to unlock Larabee's home.
Nathan closed the door behind him and stepped into the darkened interior of the beautiful ranch house. He loved visiting Chris or Vin. The two men owned adjoining ranches and their friendship was an amazing thing to behold. There was no such thing as a property line between them, they did things together and now there was a tiny sapling growing between the two homes. A symbol of their friendship and a reminder that it could overcome anything. He shook the thoughts of the ordeal the two men had suffered the year before out of his head. "Chris," he called as he removed his coat and hung it in the closet. Receiving no answer he moved towards Larabee's living room only to find it deserted, a shiver of dread tingling down his spine.
He moved towards the bedroom he knew Chris occupied and looked into the room. The harsh breathing told him he'd been right to insist on checking on the older man himself. He hurried to the bed just as a series of hacking coughs issued from the blond.
"Chris," he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and touched his boss's forehead. "Dammit, you're burning up," he hissed as a pair of glazed green eyes slowly opened.
"Nate..." Larabee tried but his voice came out as a weak whisper. He grabbed for the tissues as he was again overcome with coughing.
"I knew I should've insisted you go to the hospital," Jackson hissed as he stood to call Vin Tanner.
"It's just a d...damned cold," Larabee wheezed.
"Well we're going to the hospital and we'll let the doctors decide if it's just a damned cold or not," Jackson snapped as he brought the extra blanket up over the shivering man.
"Don't n...need to go to the h...hospital," Larabee insisted through another series of coughs.
"Chris."
Larabee looked to the door as Vin Tanner entered the room. "Vin, Pony alright?" he asked knowing the sharpshooter would've checked on the animal while Nathan tended to him.
"Pony's fine. How're you feeling?"
Larabee tried to lift his head off the pillow and tried to sit up, groaning as the room once more did an impression of a merry-go-round. He felt strong hands push him back onto the bed.
"You just lie there. Vin, help me get him dressed," Jackson ordered.
"What's wrong, Nate?"
"I want to take him to Saint Vincents and get him checked out."
"Dammit, N...Nathan, I said it's j...just a cold," Larabee wheezed.
"Why don't you just humor me and I'll apologize for dragging you out in the cold as soon as the doc tells me it's just a damned cold," Jackson said as he helped Tanner dress the older man. They placed him back on the bed and Jackson covered his shivering form with a blanket. "Vin, go warm up the Jeep while I get his coat on him," Jackson ordered.
Tanner looked at the pale, coughing form on the bed and nodded to the medic as he hurried from the room.
Larabee couldn't find the strength to argue anymore and just let the medic have his way. The pounding of his head made his stomach churn and he kept his eyes closed.
"Chris, we need to get your coat and shoes on," Jackson said as Tanner came back into the room.
"The Jeep's ready. Hey, Cowboy, how're you doing?" he asked as they helped Larabee sit up and slid his boots on his feet.
"C...cold," Larabee grinned weakly, and once more grabbed for the box of tissues.
"Let's get your coat on, Chris," Jackson said as they helped the sick man dress. Jackson wrapped the coat tightly around him and added a woolen scarf around his neck. "Alright, let's get you out of here," he ordered and helped Larabee to his feet.
"Shit," Larabee wheezed painfully.
"Easy, Cowboy, we got ya," Tanner said worriedly as the blond's legs buckled.
"T...thanks," he whispered as the two men supported him to the door. By the time they reached the Jeep, he was more than glad of their support on his arms.
Vin pulled the Jeep into the Emergency department of Saint Vincent's and hurried to help Nathan get the sick man from the Jeep. The two men helped their friend into the hospital and over to the nurse's desk.
The red-haired nurse looked towards the three men coming towards her. She recognized them immediately and hurried to get a wheelchair for the pale blond.
"Thanks, Sandy," Jackson said as they eased Larabee into the chair, passing him a box of tissues as the coughing began anew.
"You don't look so good, Mr. Larabee," she observed as she took the ear thermometer from the desk.
"I just have a cold," he wheezed.
"A cold and a fever," she told him as she took his pulse.
"I'll take aspirin," he assured her.
"Why don't we see what your the doctor has to say about that," Sandy smiled. "Nathan, can you see Doreen and get his chart made up?"
"Sure, Sandy," Jackson said as he watched her wheel Larabee towards a tiny cubicle.
"Alright, Chris, let's get you comfortable," Sandy smiled as she took a blue hospital gown from the cupboard.
"I can do it," Larabee hissed, reaching out and taking the gown from the nurse, dropping it as he coughed harshly. "Damn," he swore as the bout subsided.
"That doesn't sound good at all," Sandy observed as she helped him remove his shirt.
"Doesn't feel good either," Larabee hissed. "I said I can do it myself."
"Sick and grouchy. Dr. Turner's in for a rough time," Sandy smiled at the pale blond.
"Sorry," Larabee apologized, knowing she was not responsible for his predicament.
"Are you ready to accept my help?" she waited for the newest round of coughing to end and passed him a box of tissues as his chest heaved.
He ignored the question and finally pulled the gown up over his shoulders. He didn't have the energy needed to tie the gown around his back and he lifted pleading eyes to the nurse. "Help," he said softly.
Sandy tied the string at the back of the gown and helped him lie down. She heard the heavy wheeze and raised the head of the bed.
"T...thanks," he muttered, his voice scratchy from the heavy coughing.
"You're welcome. Dr. Turner will be in to see you shortly," she explained. "How are you feeling?"
"Cold," he told her.
"I can tell. Chris, you have a fever and that's why you feel cold. Just rest and I'll send Vin and Nathan in to keep you company."
"Alright," he said, closing his eyes and fighting the next round of coughs he felt coming on.
"Vin, you can go in with him."
"Thanks, Sandy, how's he doing?"
"He's grouchy, running a fever, chills, and has a bad cough. It could be a cold but we'll wait for Dr. Turner to see him," she explained. "I'll send Nathan in as soon as he's finished the paperwork."
Vin moved to the tiny cubicle and opened the curtain just as the older man erupted in vicious coughs. "Shit, Cowboy, you gonna make it?" Tanner smiled as he received a glare from his best friend. "That glare lacks its usual fierceness, Chris. You won't be scaring anyone with it so you might as well quit it right now."
"Shut up, Vin," Larabee rasped.
"She's right."
"Who's right?"
"Sandy, she said you were grouchy."
"What do you expect, Tanner? It's damned cold in here."
"Not that cold," the sharpshooter informed him.
"Damn, I hate being sick."
"You mean you hate admitting when you're sick. Damn fool thing to do, Chris."
"What was," Larabee asked innocently.
"Going out to check on Pony when you were supposed to go right to bed. If Nathan finds out..."
"You're not gonna tell him, are you?" Larabee interrupted between the coughs.
"I won't if you agree to do as the doctor tells you."
"That's blackmail."
"Yep."
"You're starting to get as bad as Dr. Midland with that."
"Well?"
"You won't say anything to anyone?"
"Not a word," Tanner agreed.
"Alright."
"One more condition."
"We already had an agreement."
"I'm making an am... an amen..."
"An amendment?"
"That's the word Ezra uses for it," Tanner smiled.
"Shoulda kept you two apart on that last case," Larabee hissed. "What is it?"
"You agree to stay at my ranch until you're better."
"Damn, Vin," Larabee coughed again, grabbing tissues in the process. "I don't need anyone to take care of me."
"You're sick, Pard, and I have a feeling the doctor won't want you at your ranch alone."
"Mr. Larabee?"
"Yeah," the blond answered weakly.
"I'm Dr. Turner. What seems to be the problem?"
Larabee coughed into the tissues and looked up at the doctor. "I have a cold," he answered simply.
"I can see that," Turner smiled, taking his stethoscope from around his neck. "Do you think you can sit forward for me?" he asked.
Larabee sat up straighter and soon felt the string on the gown being released and the cold stethoscope touched his back.
"Breath in," Turner ordered and the blond did as he was told. "Again,"
This time Larabee couldn't stop the cough from making itself known. "S...sorry," he apologized.
Turner listened to the blond's breathing, front and back, before feeling his neck and looking down his throat.
"A cold, right?" Larabee asked.
"Maybe, but you've got some heavy congestion on your chest. I'm going to have the nurse start an IV on you and then we're going to run some tests."
"Ah hell, Doc."
"Chris," Tanner warned.
"Alright," Larabee hissed as he glared at his friend. "Do what you have to, Doc, so I can get the hell out of here."
"I'm ordering blood work and X rays. If everything is alright I'll send you home."
"If?"
"Yes, if," Turner told him. "Now just relax and I'll send Sandy back in to get your IV started and take blood samples."
Larabee let his head drop back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Truth was he really didn't feel good but he didn't want to stay in the hospital. The guys had plans to go Christmas shopping in two days and he was actually looking forward to it for a change. Since Sarah and Adam's deaths three years ago he'd ignored holidays, especially Christmas, but his new family was slowly pulling him back into life and the joys of this celebration. He heard the curtains being drawn back but kept his eyes closed.
"Chris."
"Nathan."
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."
"I wasn't sleeping," Larabee wheezed.
"Sandy is on her way in with the IV," Jackson told him.
"Great," Larabee said softly.
Sandy soon came into the room and expertly inserted the IV and drew four vials of blood. "Alright, Chris," she said. "Let's get you into a wheelchair and down to x-ray."
"I can walk."
"Sure you can but why don't you humor me?" she smiled as she checked the IV flow.
Nathan and Sandy helped him into the chair and he realized just how tired he felt. His body ached in every muscle and joint. The room spun in concentric circles and he closed his eyes in an effort to stave off the mounting nausea.
"Hey, Cowboy, are you alright?"
Larabee opened his eyes and nodded slightly, afraid of losing his tenuous hold on his rebelling stomach. "I'm fine, Vin, just tired."
"We'll let you rest as soon as the X-rays are finished," Sandy assured him.
"We'll be here when you get back, Chris," Jackson told him.
Larabee nodded as Sandy placed a blanket over his legs before moving out of the tiny cubicle. "Thanks," he mumbled gratefully.
Tanner looked up as Chris was wheeled back into the room. In the twenty minutes since they'd left the blond's face seemed to have paled considerably and Vin began to feel a niggling fear creep into his mind.
"Let's get you back to bed, Chris," Sandy suggested.
"K," Larabee muttered as he braced his hands on the sides of the chair and tried to lever himself to his feet. "Damn," he swore as his strength left him.
Sandy and Vin helped him from the chair and back into the bed.
"Thanks," he mumbled tiredly, grabbing for the box of tissues as he erupted in another bout of harsh coughing. He felt his friend's hands lift him forward and smiled weakly in spite of the painful coughs.
Tanner eased him back down and reached for the blankets at the end of the bed. he covered the shivering body up to the shoulder s and turned questioning eyes on the nurse.
"Chris," Sandy said.
"Yeah," the blond answered weakly.
"Dr. Turner will be in as soon as the results of the blood work and X-rays are in. For now I'd like you to try and sleep," she told him.
"Hmm," was the only reply as the sick man pulled the blanket tighter around himself.
"Press the button if he needs anything," she told Vin as she left the cubicle.
"Where's Nathan?" Larabee asked as he noticed the absence of the medic.
"He went to call the others and get us a coffee," Tanner answered and pulled the blond upright as the green eyes watered with the onslaught of another attack. This one lasted considerably less but was just as violent as its predecessor. He eased him back on the bed and wasn't surprised to see the green eyes slide closed.
"How's he doing, Vin?" Jackson asked when he returned a few minutes later. He passed the younger man a cup of steaming coffee and waited for the answer. He could tell by the younger man's eyes how worried he was.
"He seems so cold," Tanner answered.
"That's probably the fever," Jackson explained.
"Nathan," Tanner said softly.
"Yeah?"
"This is more than a damned cold, isn't it?"
"I don't know, Vin, we just have to wait and see."
Tanner nodded worriedly. "What did you tell Buck and the others?"
"I told them we were here with Chris and that I'd call them as soon as we knew anything. Buck wanted to come right down but I convinced him to wait."
"How long before the doc gets the results of the tests?"
"It shouldn't take too long, Vin," Jackson sank into the chair by the bed and the two men lapsed into companionable silence. The medic listened intently to the raspy wheezing coming from the man in the bed and knew in his heart it was more than a cold.
Larabee groaned and opened his eyes as he felt the telltale signs of another couching spurt assault him. He struggled upwards in the bed and grinned weakly as two sets of hands helped him sit forward. "T...thanks," he said breathlessly as they eased him back down.
"How are you feeling, Chris?" Jackson asked.
"Like shit," Larabee answered honestly.
"I bet," the medic smiled as he replaced the blankets once more.
"Guess the hospital forgot to pay their heating bill," Larabee quipped, shivering in spite of the added blanket. He looked to the curtain as it was drawn back.
"Mr. Larabee, I have the results of your blood work and X-rays."
"A cold right?" Larabee asked hopefully.
"A little more than a cold. Your white blood cell count is elevated and there's some consolidation in the lower lobe of your right lung."
"What does that mean?" Tanner asked.
"It means Mr. Larabee has pneumonia. I'd like to keep you overnight for observation."
"I'd rather go home," Larabee wheezed. "I can rest better there, Doc."
"I'd rather you weren't alone," Turner explained.
"He won't be, Doc, he's coming to my ranch," Tanner insisted.
"Vin, I don't..."
"Chris, we had a deal, remember?"
Larabee nodded slowly. "I'll be staying at Vin's, Doc," he told him, barely able to grab the tissues as he coughed again, holding his left arm against his chest in an effort to stop some of the agonizing pain he felt there.
"Maybe you should reconsider and stay the night, Chris," Jackson suggested.
The blond raised his eyebrows and glared at the medic. "All they'll do is give me antibiotics and I can take them just as easily at home or at Vin's home."
"Alright," Turner acquiesced. "You just make sure you bring him back if things get worse."
"I will, Doc," Tanner assured him.
"I'm going to write you out a prescription for Biaxin. Make sure you get it filled right away and start taking it immediately."
"We'll make sure he does as he's told, Doc," Jackson told him.
"Alright, I'll send a nurse in to take out the IV and give you the prescription."
"Thanks, Doc," Larabee muttered.
"Don't thank me, Mr. Larabee, if I had my way you'd be staying here. I know," he said, holding up his hands as the blond showed signs of protest. "You'll rest better at home. Make sure that he does, Gentlemen," Turner said as he left them alone.
"Chris."
"Come on, Nathan, you know I hate hospitals," Larabee explained as Tanner helped him sit up in the bed.
"I know, Chris, but..."
"No buts. Besides I'm going to Vin's house..."
"And going to bed," Tanner interrupted.
"Vin, this is one time you won't get any arguments from me. Besides we've got..."
"Chris, you won't be shopping this week," Jackson told him.
Larabee's shoulders slumped and he looked at the medic guiltily. "What makes you think I was going to say anything about the shopping trip?"
"I know how much you were looking forward to this one, Chris, and I'm sorry. Look, I'll talk to the guys and we'll see if we can postpone it till you're feeling better," Jackson assured him.
"Shit, seem to be ruining Christmas for everyone," the blond mumbled tiredly.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean, Chris?" Tanner asked.
"Ruining..." he stopped, coughing into the tissues, groaning as his sore chest protested the abuse. "The plans we had."
"No you're not. Nathan just told you we'll put it off until you're feeling better."
"Don't leave much time to find the right things."
"It's time enough, Cowboy."
"Mr. Larabee," Sandy smiled and pulled the curtain closed behind her. "Lets get that IV out, shall we?" Larabee nodded and the pretty woman removed the IV from his arm. "Here's your prescription..."
Tanner reached out and grabbed the paper. "I'll look after that," he grinned at the glaring blond. "Wouldn't want it to get lost on the way to get it filled."
"Vin," Larabee rasped, his throat sore from the repeated abuse.
"Mr. Larabee, Doctor Turner wants you to make an appointment to see Dr. Midland in a couple of days."
"I'll make sure he does, Sandy," Jackson assured her.
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson. Mr. Larabee you can get dressed."
"Thanks," he waited for her to leave and slid off the edge of the bed, reaching for the edge of the table as the room tilted at a strange angle. "Damn," he gasped and sat back down.
"Let us help you, Chris," Jackson suggested, surprised when Larabee just nodded his head and let them get the clothes on him. It wasn't long before the two men had the blond ready to go.
Larabee stubbornly stood up and headed for the closed curtain. He could feel Vin Tanner and Nathan Jackson as they took a side each and walked in close proximity to him. "I'm okay," he told them.
"'Course you are," Tanner said. "You just naturally sway side to side when you walk."
"Shut up, Vin," Larabee hissed. He eyed the falling snow and wondered how something so beautiful could cause so many problems.
Vin Tanner pulled into his driveway and turned off the Jeep. The snow had stopped just after they dropped Nathan at his apartment with the promise that he'd be out to check on Chris in the morning. Vin knew his friend was sick, sicker than he let on and he was not surprised to hear a groan from the blond as he reached across and undid the seatbelt. "Sorry, Chris."
"Are we at your place?" Larabee asked, opening fever bright, bloodshot eyes.
"Just got here. Hang on a second and I'll help you," Tanner told him as the blond reached for the door handle.
"I'm okay, Vin," Larabee rasped weakly.
"Sure you are," Tanner exclaimed, hurrying from the Jeep and rushing around to the opposite door. "Come, on, Cowboy, let's get you inside."
Larabee smiled thinly, "Thanks, Pard," he mumbled gratefully.
Tanner helped his friend from the Jeep and slammed the door behind him. He steered the blond towards the house and soon had him inside and sitting on the couch. "Stay there a minute, Chris," he ordered.
Larabee let his head fall back against the couch, his eyes sliding closed as he waited for the younger man to return. He reached for the box of tissues and groaned softly as he fought to stop the oncoming coughs threatening to tear his chest apart.
Tanner returned to find his friend doubled over in an effort to stave off the pain in his chest. "Come on, Chris, lets get you in bed," he suggested.
Larabee could only nod as the younger man reached for him. "Kinda tired," he hissed.
"I can tell," Tanner said as they made their way into the spare bedroom Larabee always used. It wasn't long before the blond was snuggled under the blankets. "Chris, I got your medication here for you," Tanner told his friend.
"Hmm," Larabee mumbled, reaching out to take the pill his friend held out to him. He chased the pill down with juice before lying back in the bed. "Get some sleep, Vin," he ordered.
"I'm fine, Cowboy."
"You look like I feel and that's not a good thing right now. I'm not going anywhere, Vin," the blond's scratchy voice told him.
"Alright, Chris, but just make sure you call me if you need anything. Ok?"
"I will," Larabee replied sleepily. "Night, Vin."
"Good night, Chris," Tanner smiled as he turned out the light.
Vin Tanner hurried to the door as the gentle knock was repeated. He opened the door and smiled at the medic. "Morning, Nate."
"Morning, Vin," Jackson said, stepping into the warmth and rubbing his hands together. "How's Chris doing?"
"He's still sleeping," Tanner answered. "Want some coffee?"
"Please," Jackson removed his coat and hung it on the rack. "I'll just go look in on Chris," he said.
Tanner nodded and headed for the kitchen.
Jackson stepped into the guest room and walked over to the bed. He listened to the labored breathing and a frown touched his handsome features. We should've made you stay in the hospital, he thought. He smiled as a pair of green eyes opened and stared at him. "Morning, Chris," he greeted.
Larabee glanced around, unsure at first where he was. He recognized the room he used at Tanner's ranch and returned the greeting. "Morning, Nathan."
"How are..." he reached down and helped the blond sit forward as he erupted in another violent coughing spurt. "I guess that answers that question," he said.
"Are you okay, Cowboy?" Tanner asked carrying a tray into the room.
"I'm fine," Larabee answered in the usual manner.
"Got your medication here," Tanner grinned as Jackson helped the sick man sit forward and take the pill with water.
"Do you feel up to eating something, Chris?" Jackson asked.
"Not really, Nathan."
"Alright, but you need to keep drinking as much as you can."
"Vin's making sure of that," Larabee smiled at the younger man's troubled look.
"Good," the medic said. "Now why don't you go on back to sleep and I'll be out to check on you later."
"Sounds good," Larabee snuggled back under the blankets and was instantly asleep, the raspy breathing the only sound in the room as Tanner and Jackson looked at each other.
"Sleep's the best thing for him right now, Vin." Tanner nodded and the two men left the blond alone.
Chris was caught up in a dream but for once the dream was a warm one. A reminder of things he had to be thankful for. The first Christmas he spent with his wife and their new baby. Adam Jonathon Larabee was eleven months old, with curly brown hair and sparkling green eyes to match his father's. The boy was snuggled down next to his mother beside the Christmas tree. Chris gazed upon the perfect picture, the family he'd always dreamed of and felt the moisture in his eyes.
He'd spent many nights lying in his wife's arms and wondering if they'd ever have the joy of a baby. It took nearly two years before Sarah conceived and when Adam was born they'd both laughed and cried. They'd counted his fingers and toes and laughed as the tiny newborn wailed when removed from his mother's hands. "He's got his father's temper," Sarah laughed as Chris followed the nurse to the scales.
Now his family was whole and he knew no matter what life threw their way this was the moment he'd always remember. His wife and son wrapped in each others arms, secure in the knowledge they were safe. He smiled as he lay down beside them, pulled them into his arms and joined them in peaceful slumber.
"Chris," Tanner called, placing a hand no his friend's shoulder.
Larabee fought to stay in the warmth of the dream but to no avail. He heard the worried Texas drawl and knew he couldn't deny that voice. He forced his eyes open and looked at his friend, groaning as pain lanced through his skull.
"Easy, Cowboy," Tanner soothed. "I got your pill and some broth here for you."
"Vin," Larabee's eyes shot open. "Sick," he warned and Tanner barely had time to place a basin in front of him. "Thanks," the blond lay back against the bed and rubbed at his temples.
"Headache?"
"Feel like I've been on a week long binge," Larabee told him, coughing harshly, unsure whether to hold his chest or his head. "Shit," he gasped.
"Shit's right. Maybe I oughta get Nathan back out here," the sharpshooter said worriedly.
"Don't," Larabee pleaded.
"Alright, as long as you drink this broth I won't call him."
"Jesus, Tanner," Larabee coughed into the tissues. "You're getting too damn good at blackmail."
"I learned from the best, Cowboy," Tanner laughed as he helped his friend sit up.
Chris took the pill and drank most of the broth before exhaustion overtook him again. He let his eyes slide shut and was soon wrapped in his wife's loving arms once more.
Vin opened the door before Buck Wilmington had the chance to knock. "Come on in, Buck," he said tiredly.
"Jesus, Vin, have you gotten any sleep?"
"Here and there," Tanner answered.
"Not much, by the looks of you. The rest of the boys will be here in an hour or so with dinner. Why don't you go grab some shut-eye and I'll watch over Chris."
Tanner stretched his bone weary body and yawned tiredly. "Thanks, Buck, he's just gone back to sleep. He's had his pills and I've been getting him to drink juice and water whenever he's awake. He's just having trouble keeping it down."
"Nathan know about that?"
"Not yet but he will as soon as he gets here."
"Anything else I should know about?"
"Yeah, he's got a major headache."
"I have a feeling ol' Chris is gonna end up back at the hospital whether he wants to or not," Wilmington said.
"Probably. Call me if you need anything, Buck."
"I will, Vin," the ladies' man watched the tired figure make his way to his bedroom before he turned to the room Larabee was using. He stepped into the room and gazed at the pale figure on the bed. Damn, Stud, you look worse than you did yesterday, he thought as he took up residence in the chair next to the bed.
Chris rubbed the back of his neck as he opened his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders in an effort to work the stiffness out of the area, moaning softly as he felt another round of coughing come over him.
Buck watched the slack features as they filled with pain. He reached down and gently pulled the sick man upright as harsh, hacking coughs erupted from him. "S...sorry, B...Buck," Larabee apologized as the attack subsided and his friend placed an extra pillow under his head.
"You've got nothing to apologize for, Chris."
"Hate feeling like this," Larabee mumbled weakly, rotating his shoulder and rubbing his neck with his hand.
"What's wrong with your head and neck, Chris?"
"Head hurts," Larabee grimaced.
"I can see that. What about your neck?"
"Feels stiff. Must've lied on it the wrong way," he answered.
"Want something to drink?" Wilmington asked worriedly.
"Water," the blond accepted the glass and drank the soothing liquid. "Thanks," he said.
"You're welcome, Pard," the ladies' man answered as he took the glass and watched his oldest friend close his eyes once more.
Wilmington hurried to the door and placed his finger over his mouth in an effort to keep the newcomers quiet.
"How's Chris?" Jackson asked.
"He's sleeping and so is Vin."
"Good," Jackson said. "You boys go ahead and start. I want to check on Chris."
"Alright, brother. Hello, Vin."
"Josiah," Tanner rubbed tired eyes and smiled at the men as they carried the bags of Chinese food into the dining room. "I'm just gonna check on Chris."
"I'll check on Chris, Vin, you go eat while the food is hot."
"I...I just want..."
"Come partake of this excellent cuisine in a carton, Mr. Tanner," Standish smiled at the younger man and led him to the dining room.
Jackson stood in the doorway of the bedroom and moved towards the bed. He touched his hand to the forehead, frowning as he felt the fever there and heard the raspy breathing coming from the sick man. Dammit, Chris, why couldn't you have stayed in the hospital for a night or two, he thought.
Buck passed the paper plates around the table as Standish and Dunne opened the cartons of various Chinese dishes.
"So how's Brother Chris doing?" Sanchez asked.
"He's got one hell of a headache and he was complaining about his neck earlier," Wilmington explained, frowning as the medic entered the room and stared at him. "Nate, what's wrong?"
"Buck, what exactly was he complaining about?" Jackson asked.
"He said his head was hurting and his neck was stiff."
"Jesus!" Jackson swore as he hurried from the dining room, oblivious to the sound of the others following him. He ran into the room just as Larabee's body began a violent upwards arch on the bed. "Don't touch him!" he snapped as Tanner and Wilmington made a move to the bed.
"What's going on?" Dunne asked.
"Josiah, call for an ambulance," Jackson ordered as he watched the blond's body convulse on the bed.
"Jesus, Nathan, What the hell is happening?"
"Look, Buck, I don't want to scare you guys but headaches, stiff neck... Has he been stomach sick, Vin?"
"He was earlier," Tanner answered his eyes never leaving the convulsing body.
Jackson moved to the bed and placed his hand on Larabee's chest as the body dropped heavily to the bed. Jackson swallowed painfully as he continued to examine the blond. He checked to make sure his breathing was okay and slowly turned him on his side.
"The ambulance is on the way, Nathan," Sanchez told him.
"Are you going to tell us your suspicions, Mr. Jackson?" Standish asked.
"I'm not a doctor, Ezra," Jackson answered softly.
"Nathan?" Tanner asked.
"Headache, stiff neck, stomach sick, and the seizures could be indicative of many things. I just don't know. We'll have to wait until he's seen by a doctor at Saint Vincents," he told them, not wanting to voice his own suspicions.
Vin Tanner sat beside his friend and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, amazed at the heat emanating from the body. His blue eyes, usually so filled with life were now dulled by worry and frustration as he looked at the medic. What aren't you telling us, Nathan, he thought.
Thoughts of food and laughter quickly disappeared in the wake of seeing the pale form lying almost lifeless on the bed. Six men formed a protective circle around their leader but this time there was nothing they could do to protect him. There were no guns blazing, no knives in sight and no enemies come back to haunt them. This was a different type of enemy, yet no less deadly. It was one they didn't know how to battle because it was unseen except for the havoc it was wreaking on the blond.
Nathan continued to observe the sick man, hoping and praying that the symptoms did not indicate what he suspected. He knew deep down he was right and he wished to God he wasn't.
The silence seemed to go on forever as each man watched the slow rise and fall of Larabee's chest, the only indication that he was still alive. The look on Jackson's face was enough to drive home the seriousness of the situation and no one moved from the room. Time seemed to hang suspended as the only sound was the labored breathing from Chris Larabee.
I'm here, Cowboy, Tanner tried, hoping the intangible link he had with the older man was still in effect and Larabee would hear and understand that he wasn't alone and would have help to fight this new battle.
Ezra Standish stood by the window watching for the ambulance. He'd taken this duty on himself, unable to face the fear of losing a man he'd come to respect and admire. A man who'd given him a second chance when many others wouldn't even afford him a first chance. Mr. Larabee, don't even think about running out on me, he thought. You and I both know that's my job.'
Buck knew things were bad, knew it in his heart and soul. He'd nearly lost his best friend many times over the years only to have the man fight his way back to him. This time he knew it was more than a fight against a normal enemy. This time it was a fight against time and something he couldn't see, something he couldn't help his friend fight.
JD kept staring at his watch, the silence deafening to his ears as he looked at the man who'd taken a chance and given a kid the opportunity to prove his worth. Come on, Chris, I need you, he thought desperately.
Josiah Sanchez stood back, his eyes on his friend, his thoughts turned heavenwards as he prayed. Give him the strength he needs to battle his enemies, Lord. Give us the chance to see him continue the good work he's been doing.
"The ambulance is coming, Mr. Jackson," Standish said as he hurried from the room to let them in. He pushed the outer door open, flinching as the bitter cold wind struck him, sending icy tendrils down his back, yet he didn't feel it. Cold fear drove the bitter winds of nature's fury out of his body, leaving only a feeling of dread for what could happen to the man in the room. "This way," he shouted as two men opened the back of the ambulance and pulled out a fully laden stretcher. He held the door as they rushed towards him.
"This way!" Wilmington snapped as the two paramedics hurried into the ranch house.
"What happened?" the larger man asked as Jackson moved out of the way to give the newcomers access to the man on the bed.
"He's been sick for a few days and was at Saint Vincents yesterday. He was diagnosed with Pneumonia at that time. He's been taking Biaxin," Jackson explained as the two men began to work on Larabee. "He's been stomach sick and is complaining of a stiff neck and headache. I came in approximately an hour ago to find him having a seizure."
The older paramedic looked at Jackson and wrapped a blood pressure cup around Larabee's arm while the younger paramedic began setting up an IV. "BP is one ten over sixty five," the older man said. He continued taking readings and calling them to his partner. "Pulse and respirations are elevated. Temperature is one hundred and three," he said as he reached for the oxygen cylinder and placed it over the unconscious man's face.
"Let's get him out of here," the younger man said and they pulled the stretcher closer to the bed. Vin helped them lift Larabee from the bed and place him on the stretcher. He watched as the efficient team wrapped the blond in blankets and strapped him to the gurney. "We'll be taking him to Saint Vincents," the older man informed them as they hurried from the house.
Six men stood outside as Larabee was placed in the back of the ambulance. They seemed oblivious to the cold as they watched the ambulance disappear from the driveway.
"Grab your coats, Brothers," Sanchez ordered, breaking the spell they seemed to be under. Five minutes later they were chasing after the ambulance.
Six men waited anxiously for word on their missing member. They'd arrived at the hospital within minutes of the ambulance and knew they were in for a long wait. They'd called Orrin Travis and told him what was happening and the older man told them he'd meet them at the hospital.
Turner shook his head as he examined the unconscious man. He'd been brought in with an elevated temperature among other things. It was the other things that worried the doctor right now.
Larabee seemed to be coming round as Turner flexed his neck but slipped back into an unconscious state.
Turner frowned at the obvious stiffness in the neck and moved to check the legs. Shaking his head he turned to the nurse. "Set up for a lumbar puncture."
"Yes, Doctor," one of the nurses answered as she hurried from the room.
"I'm going to let his friends know what's happening," he explained to the second nurse who nodded that she heard him.
Tanner looked up as the door opened and moved to intercept the doctor. "How is he, Doc?" he asked.
"Let's go back inside and I'll tell you what I know," Turner held the door and the younger man stepped into the waiting room. He held it open a few seconds longer as Orrin Travis hurried towards them. He stepped inside and faced the seven men. He sighed deeply before speaking. "I'm sure you all realize that Mr. Larabee is a very sick man," at the slight nodding of seven heads he continued. "He tested positive for Brudzinski's and Kernig's sign. That means that there was stiffness in the neck and leg."
"What does that mean?" Dunne asked.
"I'll explain later, JD," Jackson interrupted. "Go on, Doc."
"I've ordered a lumbar puncture."
"Damn, those hurt," Travis muttered, frowning as he realized he'd spoken aloud. "Sorry."
"Is he awake, Doc?" Tanner asked.
Turner shook his head and glanced from one man to the other. "Mr. Jackson, you mentioned a seizure."
"Yes," Jackson answered.
"Did you note where it started and how long it lasted?"
Jackson shook his head and answered softly. "He was already seizing when we went into the room. It couldn't have been longer than a couple of minutes because I'd only just left the room. I heard Buck mention Chris complaining of a stiff neck and wanted to check on him."
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson. Gentlemen, I need to get back to my patient. I'll let you know if anything changes."
"He's gonna be alright isn't he, Doc?" Wilmington asked.
"We're gonna do everything we can to ensure that he is," Turner told them before leaving.
"Nathan, what's a Lumbar puncture?" JD asked.
"JD, they'll put a needle into Chris's spine and draw off some fluid."
"Why?" Dunne asked.
"It's a test they sometimes do when..."
"When they suspect meningitis," Tanner answered.
Jackson nodded and looked away. Silence once more took over as the seven men settled in to wait for the results.
Chris opened his eyes and smiled at the woman curled in his arms. It felt so good, so natural to be lying with her. The lights from the tree cast a warm glow over the beautiful face and he leaned forward and kissed her supple lips softly. "I love you so much," he whispered.
"I love you too," she whispered back.
"Thought you were sleeping," he smiled appreciatively at the woman lying next to him.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she answered. "I was but it seems my husband has other ideas."
"I certainly do but what about, Adam?"
"Let me put him back in his crib," she answered.
Chris leaned forward and kissed his son before Sarah lifted him into her arms and carried him to his room. He hurried to the kitchen and took out the bottle of chilled Chardonnay and grabbed the two crystal glasses they used to toast each other on their wedding night. Returning to the living room he placed the bottle and glasses on the floor within easy reach.
He removed the last of his clothing and lay back against the soft pillows. I must be the luckiest man in the world, he thought, as he watched his wife return to the room.
Dr Turner finished drawing the fluid from the blond's spine and gave it to the nurse to be sent to the lab. He knew they wouldn't have long to wait for the results and he was pretty certain the of the outcome. He knew the man lying quietly on the bed was extremely ill and that a battle to save his life was about to begin.
"Call me if there's any change," he told the nurse checking the IV flow.
"Yes, Doctor Turner."
Vin Tanner stood up and walked to the door, his fingers grasping the handle just as a strong hand landed on his shoulder.
"Vin."
"I'm just going to see if I can sit with him, Josiah," Tanner's voice was filled with worry as he looked at the ex-preacher.
"Alright, Brother," Sanchez said and followed the younger man out the door. He knew how close Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner were. They shared a bond that far surpassed anything he'd ever seen before. Chris Larabee was the family this young man clung to whenever he needed that extra bit of help. They were brothers and only death could tear them apart. Josiah Sanchez was afraid for the first time since the group of seven men had become one. If Chris Larabee succumbed to the illness ravaging his body then Vin Tanner would've lost his family once more. He knew about the loss of Vin's mother after his abusive father was thrown in jail. Knew the trauma the young man lived through and he wondered if he would have the strength to beat this one. You'd better make it, Chris, for all our sakes, he thought as he watched the sharpshooter talk with the nurse.
Tanner turned back to the ex-preacher before heading to the room the nurse pointed out. He slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside. A monitor beeped loudly and he moved to a chair beside the bed. He sat heavily and reached for the warm hand of his friend. Dammit, Cowboy, some cold, he thought angrily. "We're supposed to go Christmas shopping remember? You're supposed to help me find the right gifts for the guys. You know I'm no good at doing that alone, Chris. Remember the disaster I made of it last year?" he lapsed into silence, his eyes constantly moving from the blond's face to the monitoring equipment.
Vin reached out to his friend, hiding the fear as he desperately tried to find the connection that was normally easy to reach. He knew in his heart that Chris wasn't in the room with him at that moment and he wondered where he was and prayed he would come back to them.
Sarah watched her sleeping husband, a worried frown on her face as she felt him shiver. It wasn't cold in the room, the fireplace still glowed and she wondered what was causing her husband's chill. She watched as his eyes opened and a confused look came over his face. "Chris, what's wrong?" she asked.
"I...I...must've been a dream," he said as the blue eyes faded from his thoughts.
"Are you sure?" she asked as she snuggled into him again.
"Yeah," he thought as he pulled her tighter to his body. Who are you, he thought as a worried face floated in front of his eyes. He rested his head against his wife and tried to sleep.
Where are you, Cowboy, Tanner thought as the doctor came into the room. "Doc?" he asked.
"Come with me, Mr. Tanner," Turner ordered as he held the door for the young man.
Vin watched a nurse enter the room and place a small bag above Larabee's head. He shivered and followed the doctor out of the examination room and into the waiting room where the other men waited anxiously.
"How is he, Doc?" Wilmington asked worriedly.
"I just got the results of the Lumbar puncture. The fluid I withdrew was cloudy and the tests show the presence of white blood cells and bacteria."
"Dammit," Jackson swore softly.
"What exactly does that mean, Dr. Turner?" Standish asked, knowing in his heart the reasons for the presence of white blood cells and bacteria.
"Mr. Larabee has Bacterial Meningitis," the doctor informed them. "I've started him on antibiotics and he's been admitted. Mr. Tanner, you have medical power of attorney and we need you to fill out the appropriate papers."
"Can we see him?"
"Not right now. We're going to get him settled in the ICU and as soon as that's done the nurses will let you know. He'll be placed in isolation so make sure you check with the nursing station before you go in. They'll give you a mask, gown and gloves to wear. Mr. Tanner, please stop at the nurses' station and fill out those papers."
"I will, Doc," Tanner assured the retreating form.
"Do you want me to come with you, Vin?"
Tanner turned to the medic and nodded slowly. The fear was evident on each face as he looked from one man to the other. He pulled the door open and stepped out of the room. He felt the steady presence of the medic next to him as he made his way to the admissions desk. Jesus, Chris, isolation, meningitis, one hell of a way for you to spend Christmas, Pard, he thought.
"Chris."
"Hmm."
"I have to go get Adam."
Larabee held his wife for a few seconds longer, kissed her gently on the cheek and released his hold on her warm body. "I'll take care of him, honey, you go back to sleep."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," Larabee answered as he slid out from under the blankets. He vaguely remembered picking up his wife and carrying her to their bed. Their nights of lovemaking never ceased to bring a smile of contentment to his face and he took one last look at Sarah Larabee before making his way to the nursery and the softly babbling baby.
Chris stepped up to the crib and reached down to take his son into his arms. The smile on the child's face was a mirror image of the one his mother wore when she held him in her arms. He walked into the kitchen and prepared a bottle of milk for the baby in his arms, all the while talking to the baby. He took the bottle back to the warm bedroom and changed his son's diaper. He ran his warm hands down over the familiar body, tickling the arms, the tiny chest, and the small crevices that were wonderful on a baby. Adam Larabee smiled and giggled as his father continued to pay attention to him.
Chris dressed the child in a warm sleeper, washed his hands and picked up the baby and the bottle. He made his way to the wicker rocking chair by the window and sat down contentedly. Adam accepted the bottle and drank the warm milk. He snuggled into his father's arms and his little hand came up to grab his fathers.
"Hey, little man, you were hungry weren't you," he said as the little boy continued to drink from the bottle. So much like your mother,' he thought as he held the boy close. We've got a whole lifetime of love for you, a cold shiver of dread ran down his spine and it took a few minutes to shake it off. He could feel how his mood affected his son as the boy held tightly to his fingers.
"Sorry, Son, Daddy's just being silly," he smiled as the little boy pushed the empty bottle away. "I guess you've had enough," he laughed as a loud burp emanated from the small mouth, followed immediately by a tiny giggle. "I bet that felt good."
"Dada," the small child muttered.
Larabee's face was filled with joy as he held the wonderful miracle, the result of the love he shared with Sarah Larabee. "That's right, Adam, I'm your Dada and I promise to protect you and your mother. I promise to love you both always and forever," he whispered as the boy settled into his arms and the lids closed over the green eyes so much like his own.
Chris gently rocked the child and felt his own eyes closing. He stood up and walked across the room, placing the child in the safe comfort of the crib. I love you, Adam Jonathon Larabee, he thought and once more felt a shiver of dread run down his spine. What the hell's wrong with you, Larabee? he thought as his vision blurred and six worried faces ran through his mind.
Vin Tanner pulled on the gown and stared through the window. He could see Chris Larabee stretched out on the bed in the isolation room. Tremors rippled across his flesh as he watched the slow rise and fall of the chest.
"You can go in now, Mr. Tanner."
Vin shook his head as he heard the nurse standing beside him. "Sorry," he said as he walked up to the door. He stepped inside and the silence of the room terrified him. Chris was on his back, an oxygen mask covered the lower half of his face, an IV ran into his arm, and monitoring equipment took up most of the space surrounding his bed.
The sharpshooter hurried to the side of the bed and sat down. He reached out and touched the pale shoulder. "Hey, Cowboy, hell of a mess this is," he said. "Ya know there's no way I can help ya fight this bad guy. This is one ya have to beat on your own but ya won't be alone. Me and the boys'll be here when you beat it and we'll have a real good Christmas celebration when ya get outta here," he assured his friend.
Chris moved away from the crib and started back to the room he shared with his wife. He stood in the doorway watching her. She lay on her side, her long brown tresses spread over her pillow and her arm hugged the spot where his head would normally be. He stepped into the room and sat in the coffee colored lounge chair, content to watch Sarah's sleeping form. What did I do to deserve your love, Sarah, he thought. Slowly he walked to the window and looked out at the white expanse of lawn. Snow continued to fall and he shuddered as an icy draft managed to get past the wind tight windows. Dammit what is going on? he thought as the six faces swam before his eyes once more.
"Chris?"
Larabee turned away from the window and forced a smile on his face. "I didn't mean to wake you," he sat on the edge of the bed and gazed into her sleep weary eyes.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up and taking his hand in hers.
"I don't know. I just keep thinking something's wrong."
Sarah knew by her husband's tone that something was really bothering him. She'd seen Chris's moods change in the blink of an eye and she wondered what had brought on this mood change. "Is Adam okay?" she asked worriedly.
Chris held her in his arms, "He's fine. I gave him a bottle and he's gone back to sleep."
Sarah felt her husband tremble in her arms and knew there was something bothering him. She knew him well enough to wait until he was ready to talk and just settled into his arms to wait for that time.
Chris closed his eyes and waited for the faces to swim in front of his eyes once more. He knew one of them seemed familiar but he couldn't bring that face into focus. He placed his head on his wife's shoulder and basked in the warmth of her presence.
"Gentlemen, I'm afraid there's more bad news," Turner said as he entered the waiting room with Vin Tanner. He'd been to see Chris Larabee and he'd performed some tests and was about to talk over the results with Larabee's friends.
"What's going on, Doctor?" Travis asked.
"Mr. Larabee has slipped into a coma," Turner explained.
"What?" Wilmington snapped.
"He's gonna wake up though isn't he, Doc?" Dunne asked.
"I hope so," Turner answered. "Right now all we can do is hope the antibiotics work and his fever goes down. There haven't been any more seizures and hopefully it'll stay that way. For now I'd just like you all to keep positive thoughts and talk to him while you're in there with him. From what I've heard you're the closest thing he's got to a family so please make sure you talk to him. Give him something to come back too."
"We will, Doc," Wilmington assured him.
"Make sure there's just one at a time in with him," Turner warned them as he left the seven men to themselves.
Silence washed over the room as each man's thoughts turned inward. Christmas was only two days away and now it seemed as if they'd need a miracle to make their group whole once more.
JD stood up and walked to the door. "I need to go see Chris," he told them.
"You sure, Kid," Wilmington asked, worried about the troubled look on the younger man's face.
Dunne nodded and pulled the heavy door open. He walked the short distance to the isolation room and donned the gown, mask and gloves before entering the room. A nurse stood by the bed and JD waited for her to leave before sitting in the chair. Once he sat down he swiped at a stray tear before it leaked from his eye. He took a deep breath and started speaking softly. "Chris, I'm not much for talking," Dunne smiled as he looked at the pale figure. "Ok, so that's an understatement. I talk a lot but it's mostly just jokes and things unless its got something to do with a case. You took a chance on me, Chris, and I'm not going to forget it. Doctor Turner wants us to talk to you so maybe I'll just tell you about something my Ma did for me. We never had much, Chris, but what we had was special. I remember a Christmas..."
"JD, are you finished?"
"Yes, Ma," eight year old JD Dunne called from his bedroom where he'd just finished cleaning his room. The tiny basement apartment he shared with his mother was damp and cold in the winter but today was Christmas Eve and none of that coldness could put a damper on the warmth he felt inside. His mother was spending Christmas Eve with him, something she'd been unable to do for the past three years because of her job at the hotel. It was mandatory in her job that she be available Christmas Eve and Christmas Day because those days fell or her regular shift. This was the first year she'd been able to book those two days off and JD Dunne didn't need anything else for Christmas.
"Well come on, Son, Dinner's ready and we don't want it to get cold."
JD placed the picture of his mother back on the desk and hurried into the tiny kitchen. The living room was small and the well worn couch was already made for his mother to sleep. A small sparsely decorated tree stood in one corner. Two brightly wrapped presents sat underneath and JD could hardly hold back his excitement. His mother didn't make very much at her job but she always managed to make Christmas special for him even when she wasn't there. The woman they rented from was older but she enjoyed having JD around and when his Mom had to work JD stayed with her.
The tiny table, big enough for two, held a chicken, Christmas pudding and mixed vegetables and JD sat down with a smile. He listened as his mother thanked God for the meal and said amen. "This looks great Ma," he said as he helped himself to the delicious smelling meal. His mother was still a beautiful woman and he wondered why she never dated. Sometimes he thought it was because of him but he never voiced those thoughts to her.
The meal ended and they cleared the table, she washed while JD dried. Once the dishes were finished they retired to the living room and turned on the TV just as It's A Wonderful Life came on. They settled on the couch with eggnog and Christmas cake. JD watched his mother's face, knowing she'd soon be crying, something this movie never failed to cause her to do. He smiled as the moisture came into her eyes and he passed her the tissues.
"Thank you," she said as she wiped her eyes.
"You're welcome, Ma," he answered. He knew it wasn't the movie making her cry. It had more to do with the way she felt. He'd overheard her talking to their landlady about the things she wanted for JD but knew she'd never be able to provide him with. He'd gone to his room and cried not for what he didn't have but for the way it hurt his mother. As the movie came to an end he turned to see her staring at him. "I love you, Ma," he told her.
"I love you too, JD," she answered. "We'd best go to bed so Santa can come," she told him, even though she knew he didn't believe anymore.
"Goodnight, Ma," he said, wrapping her in a tight embrace that conveyed just how much love he had for her.
She held him tightly for a few minutes before releasing him. She watched him make his way to his tiny bedroom, wishing she could provide him with the things a boy his age should take for granted. She lay back on the couch and cried herself to sleep, unaware that her son could hear every sob that left her.
JD settled in his bed and waited for his mother's soft crying to stop. He wasn't bitter and he didn't care about the things the other boys had. All he wanted was for his mother to be happy and he hoped she'd understand that when she opened his gift the next day. Tears fell from the boys eyes as he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke early and hurried into the living room to find his mother still sleeping. He smiled as he hurried to the kitchen and started breakfast. He boiled the water in the kettle and poured his mother a cup of tea before setting the table and making toast and cereal. He walked back into the living room and woke his mother. "Ma, breakfast is ready," he told her, smiling at the look of surprise on her face.
"Why didn't you call me, JD?" she asked, smiling as she followed him into the kitchen. They said grace, ate the meal and left the dishes to hurry into the living room. JD saw the excitement on his mother's face as they sat beside the tiny tree. She passed him a small package and he could feel her excitement as he unwrapped the gift.
JD gasped as he looked at the leather-bound book in his hand. He opened the cover and swallowed as he found six volumes of the old dime store novels he'd looked at in the antique store they'd visited during the summer. "Ma, how did you? They cost too much..."
"Now, JD, never mind how or why or how much they cost. I knew you wanted them and I saved until I had enough. They are yours, Son, and I wish I could've got you more," she cried, tears flowing down her cheeks as she hugged him to her.
"Ma, thank you," JD told her as he reached for the other package. He passed it to her and waited for her to open it.
She opened the thin package and found a Cameo broach. Tears filled her eyes as she remember telling JD about the broach her grandmother gave her as a small child. It had been lost over the years and she'd been devastated. "Oh, JD, how did you..."
"Ma, I saved my allowance and did some odd jobs. I wanted you to have this. I wanted to show you how much I love you."
"Oh, thank you, JD, Will you pin it on for me?"
"Sure, Ma," Dunne grinned as he pinned the broach on his mother's blouse, content in the knowledge he'd brought a real smile to her face.
"That was a special Christmas for me, Chris. My Ma was the most important person in my life. She was the only family I had until I found you guys so please, Chris, don't give up fighting. I'm gonna go let Josiah come in but I'll be back so don't you forget you have family here and we care about you," Dunne fingered the broach he carried with him at all times, a constant reminder of the woman who'd always been able to keep his childhood fears at bay. With a last glance at the ill man he hurried from the room, fighting back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Chris, what's bothering you?"
Larabee turned away from the bright lights flickering on the Christmas tree. He continued to struggle to understand who the faces were and what they meant to him. There was something about them that continued to draw him, especially the face of a young man with long hair. He looked into the soft eyes of his wife and forced the thoughts from his mind. "Nothing, Sarah."
She placed her hands in his and pulled him from the chair. "Now tell me why I don't believe you," she smiled and Larabee's heart melted at the overwhelming sense of love he felt for her.
Chris pulled her into an embrace and relished the lingering scent of lilac. It was something he associated with the woman in his arms, a scent that meant she was with him and he took it with him wherever he went. "It's not something I can explain, Sarah. It's just a feeling."
"Uhoh," Sarah pulled back and gazed into his eyes, a mischievous look in her eyes. "I think its time to lock the windows and doors. When Chris Larabee gets one of his feelings buildings fall and animals run for the hills," she saw their usual joke was not having the desired effect and pulled him back into her arms.
The doorbell rang and Sarah felt his arms go slack. What's wrong, Chris?' she thought as her husband released her and walked to the door.
Larabee opened the door and smiled at the man standing there. "Come on in," he said, a warm smile of welcome on his face for the handsome man standing there.
"Hey, Chris, how's it going?" Wilmington asked, rubbing his hands briskly in an effort to warm them. He stomped his feet to knock off the excess snow and removed his coat.
"Hi, Buck," Sarah greeted as she joined the two men.
"Well hello, Darlin'. Are ya ready to leave this old man and come home with me where you belong?" he asked, pulling her into a warm embrace.
"Now, Buck, you know I told you to keep our secret between us. Now you've gone and told Chris what we're planning," she laughed.
Larabee watched his wife and best friend, he smiled as the ladies' man held her tightly. Buck Wilmington was a rogue and some people called him a womanizer but there was no one Chris Larabee trusted more than this man. "You best keep your hands off the woman I love, Wilmington!" he grinned and led his friend into the warmth of the living room. "Drink?"
"Scotch, neat," Wilmington answered. "Where's my little boy?"
"He's taking a nap," Sarah answered. She hurried from the room and left the two men to keep each other company. She sensed her husband's need to talk and hoped Buck Wilmington could draw him out.
Sanchez slid into the chair by the bed and placed his hand on the younger man's forehead. He said a silent prayer as he noted the machinery around the bed. The isolation room was small yet it held everything the doctors and nurses needed to care for the ill man. He'd noted the moisture in JD Dunne's eyes as he'd passed him and knew there was a struggle going on in this room. "Well, Brother, as Buck always says you're taking a few more years off my life," he said softly. "In three days we'll be celebrating a wondrous event that's withstood the passage of time and still sends chills through every living soul who believes in the bible. I remember the first time I read the story..."
Josiah Sanchez stood before his grandfather's bed. At ten years old he'd basked in his grandfather's love even knowing the older man wouldn't be with him much longer. The doctor said it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to the call of death. Josiah watched as a large crow landed in the tree outside his grandfather's window. They were at the older man's home instead of in a hospital because his last request was to die in his own bed, his dignity intact in death as it had been in life.
"Grandfather," he called softly, not wanting to wake the man if he was sleeping.
The older man opened lucid blue eyes and gazed into the exact copies in the young boy's face. "You came."
His voice, so normally strong sounded weak to Josiah and he knew his beloved grandfather would not be around much longer. "Always, Grandfather," the boys eyes misted as he watched the older man glance at the window.
"The crows have come, Josiah. There's not much time left for me. I wanted you to have something that belonged to my father. He gave it to me on Christmas Eve when I was ten and I think it's time I passed it along to you."
Josiah took the well worn, dog-eared bible from the grizzled hands of the older man. He'd read from this bible many times and listened to his grandfather's voice as he produced the most wonderful sermons ever to grace any church. His voice resounded off the walls of the church as he delivered the weekly reading and Josiah never tired of listening to that baritone voice.
"Josiah, I know you and your father do not always see eye to eye but he is a good man and he will look after you. We had our own misunderstanding when he was growing up but we worked them out and so will you. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I want you to go home and be there for him. He will need your strength and you will need his. Remember he is your family and you will need each other. The good Lord has seen fit to call me home, Josiah, but I can't go until I know you will be alright."
Sanchez watched his grandfather's eyes, he could see the pain the older man fought to control and he knew he was the only one who could ease his suffering and bring him peace. "I will, Grandfather," he said and watched as a contented smile spread over the man's wrinkled face. He watched as the light of life left the eyes but knew that although his mortal life was over his spiritual being would always be here. "I love you, Grandfather..."
"I did as he asked, Brother. I went home that night and Father and I read from the bible together. That Christmas is one I will always remember for the sadness and joy it brought me. I lost my grandfather but gained back my father. We had many years together before the crows showed up again," Sanchez explained as he stood up and placed his hands on Larabee's shoulders once more. "There'll be no crows showing up this Christmas, Chris Larabee," he vowed before leaving the room, his hand rested on the bible in his pocket. He'd removed it from the dash of his car before entering the hospital.
Josiah walked towards the elevators, knowing he was being drawn to the room that always gave him strength. He pushed the button and waited for the doors to open. The doors slid apart, revealing an emptiness that mirrored the way he felt inside. This group of men had become a family to him and sometimes he thought they were the sons he never had. He knew Chris was fighting for his life right now and he wanted to talk to God and pray that he would give Chris the strength to make it through. He was unaware of stepping into the elevator or of getting off and making his way towards the chapel.
He smiled at the young dark haired man kneeling in the front row. JD was the youngest member of the group of seven and he carried a faith inside him nothing could shatter. He didn't want to impose on the younger man's prayers so he moved towards the pew on the left.
JD heard someone enter and turned towards the doors, his eyes moist with unshed tears. The story he'd told Chris was one he'd never shared with anyone yet it felt good to tell it to the man who'd given him a chance to prove himself. He swallowed deeply and turned back to the front of the chapel.
Josiah sensed the younger man's need for company and moved to the seat beside him. The two remained silent but their mutual worry for their friend transmitted itself from one to the other and they prayed silently.
"Chris?"
"Yeah, Buck," Larabee sipped from the glass.
"You look like you're miles away," Wilmington observed.
Larabee smiled at his friend, unsure why this man could read him so well. "Just thinking," he answered.
"Damn, Chris, that's not something you should do on Christmas Eve."
Larabee laughed at the look on Wilmington's face. He knew the ladies' man was trying to help but something continued to nag him. He knew in his heart this was not where he should be. He wanted to stay more than anything but there was someone calling him and he was having a hard time ignoring the voices that plagued him. Visions of a broach and bible swam before his eyes as he walked to the liquor cabinet and poured another shot into his glass.
Sarah came into the living room, her worried gaze falling on her husband. Oh, Chris, I wish there was something I could do to wipe that frown off your face, she thought. She stepped up to the bar and felt his arms reach out and engulf her. "I came to tell you dinner's ready," she said.
Chris captured her lips and smiled in spite of the doubts nagging him. This is where I belong, he thought but shivered as the face of the unknown young man assaulted him once more.
"Hey, Chris, if this is what marriage does to a man I just might have to try it out," Wilmington laughed as the two people he cared for separated.
"You, Buck, never happen," Larabee smiled and linked his arm through his wife's as they made their way to the dining room.
"Well, Mr. Larabee, it looks to me like you're thinking about running out on me. I will endeavor to elucidate the reasons you should stay. You brought together a group of diverse men and you managed to do it with style and flare without even trying. I came to you with a reputation for being a liar and a cheat and yet you looked past those character traits and gave me a chance to prove myself. You gave me a choice no one else gave me. You showed me that I could turn my, hmm, shall we say expertise to helping keep the injustices of this world to a minimum. My mother never even gave me that chance," he laughed as he walked to the window. "My mother," he said wistfully. "You know Chris, I've only known you guys three yeas yet I've spent more Christmas Day's with all of you than I ever did with Mother. She did come for me one year though. I was too young to realize it was probably for selfish reasons on her part but it was and still is a memory of what life could have been for me. You see I was only six at the time and Mother..."
"Ezra, Sugah, where are you?"
"Mother?"
Maude Standish held her arms out to her son and smiled at him. "That's right," she said as she wrapped her arms around him. "I've missed you so."
"Mother?" Ezra repeated as the large manservant stepped into the room. "I thought you were spending Christmas with the Earl in his villa in the south of France?"
Maude held him at arms length and smiled at the look of disbelief on his face. "I was, Sugah, but the Earl's wife decided she wanted to go along with him. It put a crimp in my style."
"I understand. So where are you going to spent Christmas now? Are you going to visit the Duke instead?"
"No, my dawling boy. Mother is here in New Orleans to spend Christmas with you."
Ezra Standish learned early on how to wear a poker face and keep others from reading him but the words spoken by his worldly mother shocked him and drove away the facade he tried to portray. "D...do you mean it, Mother?" he asked excitedly.
"Ezra, dawling, you know better than to let your emotions show. We must always endeavor to keep our feelings inside where they belong."
"Yes, Mother," Standish hurriedly put on his best poker face in an effort to please the extravagantly dressed woman kneeling before him.
"That's my boy," she said as she held him at arms length and studied the boys green eyes. "But you still need to work on your eyes, Sugah. Remember a poker face can be easily read by looking into the eyes of your mark. Practice makes perfect, Ezra, and perfection is something to strive for in our choice of business endeavors."
"Yes, Mother. How long will you be in residence?" the young boy asked, using words he'd been taught at an early age. Words no six year old boy should understand but he did. With Maude as his mother there was little choice. She ran cons all over the world and needed to know how to talk in the higher social circles she resided in.
"I have two whole days to spend with my precious little boy," Maude smiled as the boys eyes once more betrayed his excitement. "Restraint, Ezra, always remember to use a modicum of restraint," she reminded him.
"Yes, Mother," he repeated. His excitement at having his mother to himself for two whole days was almost too much for him to control but he managed...
"She managed to keep her word that year, Chris, she stayed with me for two days and we spent every minute together. I don't think I've ever seen my mother so relaxed and at ease. We ate at fancy restaurants and went to the socialite parties but it didn't matter. She was with me. She kept a promise for the first time that I could remember and that was the best Christmas present she could've given me. Money can't buy the company of friends and family, Chris. You and the rest of the team have shown me I can belong without the style and flare Mother said were necessary to survive in this world. I want to thank you for that. For giving me a chance when no one else would. This year there is only one thing I want for Christmas and it's something that'll even surpass the Christmas I spent with Mother. The best Christmas present I can possibly hope for is to have you wake up and tell me to shut up," Standish couldn't help but smile as he remembered the times Larabee had used those words on him or one of the other members of the firm. "It looks like Mr. Jackson's waiting to see you, Mr. Larabee," his mask was back in place as he left the room.
Chris stood over the crib, watching his son play with the brightly colored mobile over his head. His heart ached with the overwhelming love he had for his family and yet he knew something was drawing him away.
Sarah watched her husband, knowing he would soon be leaving her and Adam. She'd known from the beginning that he wouldn't be staying with her. This was a wish she'd been granted but it would only last till a little after the stroke of midnight which marked the end of Christmas Eve and the beginning of Christmas Day. This was a special Christmas for her and one she knew would always remain in her husband's heart. It was the first Christmas with Adam and the memories were still fresh for her. She watched as he tenderly gathered the small child in his arms and shivered in anticipation of what was to come. She listened as he sang Silent Night in a soft off key voice and tears came to her eyes. Oh, Chris, I wish we could stay like this forever.
Larabee looked up from the child in his arms and watched as a flash of pain crossed his wife's face. "Sarah, is something wrong?" he asked.
She smiled and knelt before him, placing one hand in his and the other on her son's chest. "No, Chris, everything's right. Let's put him to bed," she whispered longingly.
He nodded and placed the sleeping child in the crib, pulling the sides up to ensure his safety. The couple looked down on the results of the love they had for one another before walking to their own room.
Nathan sat next to the bed, his Paramedic training left him with more information than he wanted. It was at times like this, when one of his friends was hurt or ill that he wondered if he'd chosen the wrong field. He knew his training was one of the reasons Chris had chosen him for the team and he was grateful for the chance to prove himself. "Chris, I'm not gonna tell you to fight this thing because I know you already are or you wouldn't be here with us now. Today is the twenty second of December and Christmas is only three short days away. I'm not sure you can hear me right now but I wanted to share something with you. Its got to do with another Christmas and a gift that helped me decide I wanted to help others. I wrote a letter to Santa when I was seven," Jackson laughed. "I know, that's kinda late but my parents wanted Christmas to last for us. My father always told me that Santa..."
"Santa is in here, Son. He's a feeling that grows inside of us and shows us how we can help others less fortunate than us. So as long as you're willing to give of yourself Santa will be alive and very real. Now go on and finish that letter," Obediah Jackson told his son.
"The kids at school laughed at me when I told them that," Nathan's voice quivered as he looked at his father.
"Is that where you got the split lip, Son?"
Nathan nodded slowly, remembering the two bullies from the higher grade and how they'd laughed at the idea that he still believed in Santa. He remembered the tall dark haired kid who'd come to his aid and wished he'd stayed long enough to get his name and thank him properly. "They told me there's no such thing as Santa."
"There's a lot of cruelty in the world, Son, but don't you ever let them get the upper hand. Santa was a real person, or at least Kris Kringle was and he's the basis of the stories you've heard your mother read to you. Don't let them take those beliefs away from you, Nathan."
"I won't Daddy," Jackson smiled and turned back to the paper he held. He kept his eyes averted as his father suffered through another attack. He knew his father was ill and there was little he could do about it. I'm gonna do something to help people when I get older,' he thought as he continued with his letter.
"Nathan, you're a good son and I want you to know how proud I am of you."
"Thanks, Daddy," Nathan smiled gratefully as he placed his letter in an envelope and sealed it.
"So, are you gonna tell me what you asked for?"
Nathan smiled and shook his head. "Not this time, Daddy," he answered.
"Alright, Son," Obediah smiled at the boy. He knew in his heart his son would one day make a fine doctor and he hoped to see that day come. He thought of the gift, hidden in a trunk in the far corner of the attic.
"I'm gonna mail this," Nathan said.
"Alright, Son," the older Jackson laughed as the younger one pulled on his coat, hat and boots before rushing out the door. He turned on the small TV and waited for his son's return.
Nathan hurriedly mailed the letter and rushed back to his house. He wanted to sit down with his father and watch Obediah's favorite Christmas program. As he opened the door he heard the sound of the angels and knew It's a wonderful Life was about to begin. He undressed and hurried into the living room, smiling gratefully as his father passed him a cup of hot cocoa. "Thanks, Daddy," he said as he sipped the hot drink.
Christmas Day finally arrived and Nathan Jackson sat with his father and mother opening the gifts under the small tree.
Obediah watched his son's face as he opened the final gift. It was wrapped in bright green paper and tied with a red bow. There was nothing on it except Nathan's name. The boys face lit up when he removed the realistic doctor's kit, something he'd asked for in the letter he'd written five days earlier.
Nathan glanced from the kit to his father, a smile spreading on his face. "You were right, Daddy, Santa does know what's in our hearts..."
"I know now it wasn't Santa, Chris, it was my father but I've always wondered how he knew what I asked Santa for that year. I wish I still believed," Jackson whispered as he stood up to leave. "I guess it's time to let Buck come in," he placed his hand on Larabee's shoulder and said a silent prayer before leaving. He hurried towards the waiting room across the hallway, needing to be alone with his thoughts. He didn't regret the things he'd learned over the years but at times like this he felt he was better off not knowing. He sank into the uncomfortable chair, his gaze drawn towards the window. He closed his eyes and prayed silently.
Chris held her tightly in his arms, afraid if he relinquished his hold she'd disappear. Something was drawing him away from his family and he knew he would be leaving them soon. "Sarah, I'll always love you."
"I know you will, Chris," she answered as she placed her head on his chest. I know you'll be leaving us soon but we'll always be in your heart. You have a new family waiting for you and they need you with them, she thought.
"Sarah."
"Hmm."
"I'm not sure what's going on but I'm afraid I'll be leaving you soon," he whispered.
The anguish in his voice tore at her heart and she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Chris, we'll be in your heart no matter what happens," she promised.
Vin walked along the corridor, his eyes seeing but not registering the people around him. He stopped in front of a room, hearing tiny sobs coming from inside. He looked in and saw a young boy lying alone in the room. "Are you okay, Kid? Do you want me to get the nurse?"
"No, thanks, Mister," the child tried to stop crying, a small smile showing through the sadness still apparent on his face.
"There's no shame in crying, Kid," Tanner told him.
"My Mom always tells me that too," the boy said, taking a tissue and wiping at is tears.
"Do you want to talk?"
"I...I..." he stammered. "Mom says not to talk to strangers."
"Your Mom's right about that."
"But you seem okay."
"I tell you what we'll do. I'll leave the door open and the lights on and that way we can both feel safe!"
The young boy's eyes sparkled with hope and Vin stepped into the room. "My name's Vin. What's yours?"
"Adam."
Vin barely kept his composure as he heard the small voice say his name. Somehow he knew this was a sign. His best friend was down the hall, fighting for his life and he'd stumbled onto a crying boy with the same name as his friend's son.
"Are you okay, Vin?"
"I'm fine, Adam."
"You don't look fine. Maybe you should go back to your room before you faint."
Vin smiled as he stared at the green eyes. "I'm not staying here, Adam."
"Who is?"
"My best friend."
"Is he gonna die?"
"I sure hope not," Tanner whispered.
"What's wrong with him?"
"He's sick."
"Bad sick?"
"Yes," Vin answered sadly.
"He's gonna be okay ya know," the boy said confidently.
Tanner glanced into the eyes once more, frowning at the familiar shade of green and the deep expressions in a child so small. "I thought I was supposed to help you," he said.
"Mom says if you can help someone else then you're helping yourself. He's going to be okay. You're gonna help him aren't you?"
"I'm gonna do everything I can," Tanner answered.
"Then he'll be fine. My Mom's gonna be here soon and I don't want her being upset that I talked to you."
"I'll leave, Adam. Are you gonna be okay?"
"I'm fine now," the boy said as he snuggled down in the bed.
Tanner moved away from the bed, "You take care of yourself, Adam," he told him.
"You too, Vin," the boy said, an angelic smile on his face, as the man left the room.
Buck sat next to the bed, memories replaying in his mind as he watched the steady rise and fall of his oldest friend's chest. "You know you've added..." he stopped as he realized he'd said those words too many times over the years. "Ah, hell, Stud, I've spent many Christmas's with you and I want to spend many more. Maybe I'm being selfish but I need to know you'll be with us on Christmas Day and every day that follows. Hell Chris I guess what I'm trying to dance around," he stopped as a memory hit him. "Chris, did I ever tell you about my mother. Oh I know I told you how she made a living and why but I don't think I ever told you about the dance lessons..."
Buck sat by the tree with the women who shared the house with him and his mother. He was a bright boy at age thirteen. He knew his mother went to great extents to shelter him from her life in prostitution but he knew where she went at night. The women in the house were his extended family and they helped look after him when his mother had to see a client.
"Buck, is something wrong?"
Wilmington looked at the raven haired woman and smiled. "No, Mom, everything's fine," he answered honestly. The boys in his school teased him about where he lived and the fact that he didn't have a father. His mind went back to something that happened the week before. A kid in one of the lower grades was being harassed by two bullies just because he believed in something they didn't and Buck had gone to his aid. He'd shoved the two bullies away from the kid and the boy muttered his thanks through his split lip. Buck wondered how that kid was celebrating Christmas.
"Buck, I have one more gift for you. Something I hope you'll enjoy as much as I did when I was your age," his mother explained.
Buck took the small powder blue envelope and opened the flap. He took out the card and read the words before looking at his mother. "Dance lessons?"
"That's right, Son. I've seen how well you dance and I wanted to give you something I knew you'd enjoy."
"It says the lessons are for two," Buck read aloud.
"That's right. I thought you'd enjoy having one of the girls from your class go with you. Maybe that pretty red head. What's her name again?"
"Cindy."
"That's the one."
Buck looked at the card and then back at his mother's warm blue eyes. "I know who I want to take, Mom," he said.
"Who?"
"You."
"Me?"
Buck stood in front of his mother, a smile on his face as he bowed low to the woman who'd nourished him. "Mom, would you do me the honor of being my date for the dance lessons at Mrs. Winton's school of fine dancing?" he asked softly.
Tears filled her eyes as she stood up and wrapped her arms around her son. "The honor is all mine, Buck," she said as the tears escaped her eyes.
"You should have seen us, Chris. The night we graduated from the class. Mom and me decided to do the two step and she looked beautiful in a pink gown with white ribbons in her hair. I thought I was the luckiest kid in the whole class. I know I had the most beautiful woman in the world as my date," he said. "I remember when you and Sarah had Adam and you both refused to go out on New Year's Eve because you wanted to be with him and celebrate as a family. You invited me to join you and I told you no but you both insisted because I had to cancel my plans. I remember watching the two of you dance, the love on both your faces as you only had eyes for each other. Beautiful, Chris, a wonderful, magical moment between two people who loved each other unconditionally. She'll be waiting for you, Chris, just as we're waiting for you now. Vin's here so I guess I'd better let him come in," he left the room as memories of his childhood continued to flash through his mind.
Sarah knew her time with Chris was drawing to a close and she wanted to feel him once more. She wanted to share the love that continued even after the separation she knew would happen in a few years. She'd chosen this Christmas because of the intense love they shared especially with the child who now shared their lives.
"Chris, I got something I want to read to ya but first I need you to know where it came from. You know my Ma died when I was little and I don't have a lot of memories of her but she gave me this book of poetry and I've kept it with me ever since. She read it to me on Christmas Day..."
The excitement of Christmas morning was lacking in the blue eyes as the small boy fought to wake up. His first instinct was to hide under the blankets and not let anyone know he was awake. Fear was so much a part of his early life and even with the departure of his father that fear was engrained in him. His small body trembled but not from the cold. He gathered as much courage as a five year old could and slid his legs over the side of the bed. His tiny feet met the icy cold of the stark linoleum and he pulled them back up, searching for the socks he knew would be beside the bed. He found the clean black socks and pulled them on. Slowly he slid off the edge and walked into the room that doubled as kitchen and living area. He smiled at the woman sitting in front of the tiny tree. "Ma," he said, walking towards her.
"Merry Christmas, Vinnie," she smiled, calling him by the name she only used when they were alone.
"Merry Christmas, Ma," his eyes twinkled as he looked into the warm eyes and loving face that could sooth his nightmares with just a glance. He felt her arms around him and returned the embrace, loving the feeling of safety in her arms.
"Santa's been here, Vinnie. Why don't you come sit down and see what he's brought for you?" she asked and sat him beside her on the floor. She reached for a small gift and passed it to him, smiling as his blue eyes sparkled with childhood excitement. She watched him open the gift from Santa, tears filling her eyes as she realized how little it was compared to what other kids would find under their trees.
"Ma, look what Santa brought me," Vin's voice filled the small space with more joy than anything she'd ever known before. She smiled as he played with the tiny red fire engine. The friction wheels spinning on the linoleum as he pulled back and released the toy. Her heart ached that something so simple could bring such joy and she reached for the second gift she'd placed under the tree. A gift she'd earned by doing laundry for a lady on the third floor of the building across the street. "Vinnie?"
"Yes, Ma," Vin answered, unsure of the tone behind his mother's voice.
"I have something here for you."
"What is it?" he asked, a tiny smile awakening on his face.
"Open it and see," she passed him the small package and waited for him to open it.
He pulled the book from the wrapping and tried to read the name. "R...Ro...bert L...Louis St...St..."
"Stevenson," she finished for him.
"Who is he?" Vin asked innocently.
"He writes poetry, Vinnie, not as well as you do but he's pretty good," she told him.
"Ah, Ma," he grinned at her compliment, his eyes bursting with pride at his mother's words. He opened the book and passed it to his mother. "Would you read this one to me?"
She looked at the open page and read the title. "The Land Of Nod by Robert Louis Stevenson."
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do,
All alone beside the streams,
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
The strangest things are there for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad,
Till morning in the land of Nod
Try as I like to find my way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear,
The curious music that I hear.
"Ma?"
"Yes, Vinnie."
"What is the land of Nod?"
"I think it's a place where we can go to have wonderful adventures," she answered. A place where you'll be safe from the evil that sometimes invades out lives,' she thought, pictures of the man who'd fathered her son flashing through her mind.
"Can me and you go there?"
"Oh, Vinnie, it's a place we can only visit in our dreams. So each night when you go to sleep dream of Nod and I will follow you there that way we can keep each other safe," she explained, fighting back the tears as she remembered waking her son from the nightmares he suffered from.
"It's a good place?"
"A very good place."
Vin Tanner looked at the book and then met his mother's warm eyes. "Then I promise to visit the land of Nod every night, Ma," he vowed.
She hugged her son to her, relishing the sweet scent that only came from small children. "Merry Christmas, Vinnie."
"Merry Christmas, Ma. I love you."
"I love you too, Son..."
"Ma got sick the next year, Chris. I remember sitting with her and reading from that book. Well it wasn't really reading it was repeating the words she'd read to me every night," Vin opened the book and read the poem he so loved as a child. "Ma said, Nod was a very good place and it was when I was little. I wish I still had those childhood beliefs, Chris, I'd take you to the land of Nod and show you all the magical things there." He closed the book and rubbed his eyes.
The next thirty six hours passed uneventfully with no new crisis but also no change in Chris's condition. He didn't suffer any more seizures but he remained in a coma, unaware of the worried and concerned men who kept a constant vigilance at his bedside. They talked to him about the plans they had for Christmas, plans that included him being there not stuck in the hospital.
Turner finished examining the pale form on the bed and picked up the chart. He made note of the fact that there were no more seizures and that Chris Larabee could be moved out of isolation and into a private room. He looked out at the haggard faces of the men waiting outside the room. He turned to the nurse and told her to make arrangements to have the patient moved later that afternoon. He opened the door and walked over to the contingent of six men.
"How is he, Doctor?" Standish asked.
"We're getting ready to move him out of isolation..."
"Does that mean he's getting better?" Dunne asked hopefully.
"The antibiotics are working and he hasn't had any seizures since the one at his ranch and that's a good sign."
"How long before he wakes up, Doc?" Wilmington asked.
"That's hard to say with comatose patients, Mr. Wilmington. He could wake up in an hour, a day or a week. There's just no way of knowing. Why don't you men go get something to eat and we'll have Mr. Larabee in his new room by the time you come back."
"I'll see that they do, Doctor."
The six men turned to see Orrin Travis walking towards them. He'd caught the tail end of the conversation and knew Chris would want him to make sure his men looked after themselves.
"Thank you, Mr. Travis," Turner said as he walked to the nurses' desk.
They sat in the small brightly lit restaurant across from the hospital. The waitress serving them wondered what could possibly have caused the seven handsome men to look so crestfallen on Christmas Eve. There was an air of sadness emanating from the youngest dark haired man to the oldest grey haired man who seemed to be in charge. She stood behind the counter, watching them, trying to get a read on them, something she considered herself good at. One man stood out amongst the others, his blue eyes so filled with sadness and pain and she realized there was something tearing at him. She glanced towards the hospital across the street and knew they'd come from there. Who are you waiting for? Is it a friend or family or both? she thought as she returned to the table with the drinks they'd ordered. She'd worked in this restaurant for eight years and still tried to read peoples' emotions. The group of men seated at the table seemed lost to her, as if they were waiting for someone to return to their midst. It's Christmas Eve, a time for miracles and maybe you'll find whoever you're all so worried about will have a Christmas angel protecting them, she thought.
She watched the silent group as they picked at the meals they ordered, neither man coming close to eating half the food on their plates. The oldest man paid the bill and they stood as one and left the warmth of the restaurant. Have faith, she thought as she watched them walk towards the hospital, hands stuffed in their pockets to ward off the chill in the air. "Tonight is a night for miracles," she said aloud, smiling as the star on the tree in the corner twinkled brightly.
"Sarah."
"What is it, Chris?"
"Merry Christmas."
Sarah looked at the clock and saw the time was a little after midnight, and that Christmas Eve was now Christmas Day, and she wrapped her arms around her husband, knowing he'd be leaving her and Adam very shortly. She fought back the tears she wanted to shed and wrapped him tightly in her arms. "Merry Christmas, Christopher Larabee," she whispered as she lifted her face to his. I love you so much, she thought.
"I have something for you," he whispered softly.
She watched as he reached under his pillow and pulled out a long gold box wrapped with a white ribbon and bow. "Don't I have to wait till morning?" she asked sweetly.
"Not for this one," he answered, watching as her long delicate fingers pulled on the ribbon, releasing the bow from the box. You're so beautiful, he thought as her eyes lit up at the treasure contained within the box.
"Oh, Chris," she gasped, pulling the delicate chain from the box.
"It belonged to my grandmother," he explained.
"It's beautiful," she told him, opening the finely detailed locket. She gasped at the picture inside, the picture of her holding Adam taken the day of his christening. Soft sobs shook her body as she realized this was the locket he'd be holding in the funeral home on the day they said their mortal goodbyes.
"Sarah, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, holding her in a tight embrace.
"N...nothing, Chris. I'm just happy," she answered. "Would you put this on for me?"
He took the delicate chain in his hands and placed it around her neck, nuzzling her throat as he finished. He turned her towards him and looked into her shining, tear filled eyes. "I love you," he said, his eyes sliding closed as he fell back against the pillow.
"I love you too, Chris," she told him, knowing her time was nearly up. "I won't say goodbye, Chris because Adam and I will be waiting for you," she lay down beside him, knowing he'd soon be retuning to his life with his new family, a family who'd look after him until he was reunited with her and Adam.
The room was quiet, except for the whispering sounds of breathing coming from the six men. Chris Larabee lay still and silent as his friends watched over him. It was a little after midnight and officially Christmas Day. A day ripe for miracles and the six men prayed they'd be on the receiving end of one today.
"Do you guys remember the first Christmas after Chris formed this team?" Dunne asked.
Josiah smiled as the memory of that special day seeped into his bones and dispensed the chill that resided there since the day Chris Larabee had succumbed to the illness he now fought. "The look on his face when we showed up with the tree..."
He gulped down the fiery liquid and immediately refilled the glass. He turned away from the bar and walked towards the window, turning at the last minute to grab the bottle of whiskey. I miss you both so much, he thought as he looked out over the rolling expanse of snow covered lawn. The stark whiteness was unblemished and filled Chris with a feeling of emptiness. He'd wanted to accept his friends invitation to celebrate Christmas with them but the loss of his family was too fresh on his mind.
His head snapped up as he heard voices outside his door, they sounded low at first but rose in pitch, sounding out of tune yet filling him with a sense of happiness. He knew it was the six men he'd come to think so much of, the men that helped fill the void after the loss of his family. He shook his head, smiling as Buck Wilmington's off key voice picked up the chorus of Jingle Bells. He placed the drink on the table by the closet and opened the heavy door. Their cheeks were red and their breaths were visible in the cold air. They continue to sing in spite of the cold, the smiles on their faces warming him from the inside out. He opened the door further and let them inside, smiling as the two youngest members of The Firm dragged a small tree inside. They continued singing even as they shook off the snow and pulled off their gloves, coats, scarves and boots. The song ended and the men smiled at him.
"Hey, Stud, figured you'd be lonely out here by yourself."
"Merry Christmas, Brother," Sanchez greeted, smiling openly at the younger man.
"Mr. Larabee, I do hope you've laid in a large supply of firewood," Standish smiled as he shook off his expensive suit jacket.
"I hope you know where your Christmas decorations are, Chris," Jackson smiled as he moved out of the way.
"Yeah, Chris, we brought you a tree," Dunne said.
"I see that, JD," Larabee smiled. His eyes met the blue eyes of the man he'd grown so close too. Words weren't needed between them. He knew what Vin was thinking and he was pretty sure the younger man was behind this impromptu gathering. "Thanks," he whispered gratefully.
"Anytime," Tanner told him as he and JD lifted the tree and carried it into the living room.
"Chris, put on some Christmas music while I find the ornaments," Wilmington suggested.
Larabee smiled at the men in the room before walking to the hi-fi stereo system built into the wall. He selected a CD of fast Christmas songs and placed it in the disc player. He turned and watched as his friends began to decorate his home and soon found himself being drawn into the festivities. JD sat with a bag of popcorn stringing it on a thin green thread. Buck carried a box of brightly colored balls into the room. Nathan walked in from the kitchen carrying a tray with mugs of hot cocoa on it. Josiah stood on a chair as he attached Silver garland across the ceiling. Vin and Ezra placed the tree in front of the huge bay window and secured it to a stand.
"Here you go, Chris," Jackson passed him a mug of cocoa.
"Thanks, Nathan," he said, a tremor in his voice as he realized what these six men meant to him. A chance at happiness and family if he'd just accept what they offered freely. He looked at each man individually, weighing what they offered him compared to what life would be like if they weren't in it. They'd managed to wrangle their way into his heart without even trying. "Family."
"What did you say, Chris?" Jackson asked.
Larabee looked at the medic and smiled warmly. "Just thinking out loud, Nathan."
Jackson's eyebrows rose and he searched the blond's face. He saw something in the eyes that took his breath away. The darkness that was normally evident in the man's troubled eyes seemed to be missing, replaced by a sense of peace.
"Mr. Larabee, I think it's only fair that you help us since it is your home we are attempting to decorate in a festive manner."
Larabee smiled and moved to help the two men secure the Christmas tree.
Josiah finished the ceiling decorations and moved to the sliding doors leading to the patio. The bright rays of the full moon shone down on the snow covered landscape, giving him a sense of peace. Thank you, Lord, for providing us with a means to make this a better Christmas for our brother. Someday he will understand why you deemed it necessary to call his wife and son home to you. Until that time we'll be here to help him when he needs us and even when he doesn't, he thought.
The seven men enjoyed the remainder of the day, talking and laughing well into the night. Chris sighed as he realized he was being selfish in wanting them to stay for the night, knowing they'd probably have plans for the following day. He sighed as the final song played on the CD, a favorite of Christmas's from years past. He smiled as Josiah's baritone voice blended with the soft voice in a duet of Silent Night. It wasn't long before each man joined in and before Chris realized what was happening his voice joined the others.
"Sleep in heavenly peace... Sleep in heavenly peace..."
"Sleep in heavenly peace... Sleep in heavenly peace..."
Six pairs of eyes looked at each other, not realizing they'd been transported by memory back to that first Christmas together. Shivers ran through them as they realized they'd just sang the same carol they'd sang on that special night.
He knew something was wrong but his clogged mind wouldn't let him grasp what it was. Someone was singing, at first the words were unclear and he couldn't place them. A soft sigh left his lips as he realized he wasn't alone. He felt them surrounding him but still couldn't quite bring himself to open his eyes.
"Chris?" Tanner asked wistfully, unsure if he'd really heard the soft sound. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for the sound to come again. His eyes met Wilmington's across the bed and he knew he hadn't been mistaken. Buck's face told him he'd heard it as well.
"Come on, Stud, it's time to wake up."
I'm trying, Larabee thought as the words began to filter through his clogged senses. He felt something covering his face but wasn't sure what it was. The cool mist entering his lungs brought the memory clearer and he knew he was on oxygen. He remembered being ill and Nathan and Vin taking him to the hospital but there was nothing after that. He struggled to open his eyes, to see who was in the room with him, to find out why the voices sounded so worried.
"I think he's coming round," Wilmington smiled as two green eyes opened. A relieved smile spread over his face as he looked at the man on the bed. He pushed the button that would summon the nurse, knowing they'd need to check the blond over.
"Welcome back, Cowboy," Tanner's voice was filled with a warmth he hadn't felt since they'd rushed his friend to the hospital.
Larabee didn't have the strength to answer. He was exhausted, confused and not sure whether he wanted to be here. Memories of Sarah's warmth and love assaulted him, and he wanted to go back to the safety of her love. He closed his eyes and felt sleep reaching for him again and gave into it, knowing the six men he'd caught a glimpse of would be there when he woke again. Another soft sigh escaped the oxygen mask.
"What's going on?" Turner asked as he and a nurse entered the room.
"He woke up, Doc," Dunne's voice, although low, was laced with excitement.
Tanner and Wilmington moved out of the way and let the doctor examine his patient.
"Did he say anything?" Turner asked.
"No," Jackson answered.
"Did he seem to know where he was?"
Tanner shook his head as he remembered the dull green eyes staring at him. "I don't think so," he answered, watching as the nurse took Larabee's vitals.
"This is a good sign, gentlemen, a very good sign," Turner explained as he finished his initial exam. "He's probably not going to wake completely until tomorrow and even then he's going to be tired and confused. Why don't you all go home and get a good night's sleep."
"I'm staying," Tanner's low voice warned them he wasn't going to argue about it.
"Vin..."
"Nathan, I'm not going anywhere. I'll grab some sleep in the chair," Tanner assured him.
"Alright, Vin, the rest of you out of here," Jackson told them. Vin listened to the others as they said their goodbyes to the ill man. He settled into the chair, his eyes never straying from the softly rising chest. The IV continued to feed into Larabee's forearm and the oxygen mask still covered the lower half of his face. He turned away from the bed as the door opened behind him. An orderly pushed a blue chair into the room.
"The nurse asked me to bring this in for you. It's a lot more comfortable than that chair," he explained as he open the chair into a single bed. "It's not much but I can grab you a blanket and a pillow."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," Tanner said as he pulled the chair closer to the bed.
"You're welcome." The orderly left and returned a few minutes later with a blanket and a pillow. He spread the blanket before leaving the room, letting the door slide closed behind him.
Vin stood up and stretched. The long hours of worry and lack of sleep were catching up to him and he looked at the open chair longingly. He moved his stiff body to the chair and stretched his aching form along it's too short length. It wasn't long before his soft breathing joined that of his friends and he slept.
Chris peeled his eyes open and tried to move. He wondered where he was and what was causing the pain he felt. His body was stiff and unyielding as he turned his head to the side. His eyes lit on the figure sleeping in the chair beside the bed. At first the name eluded him but his lips moved under the oxygen mask. "V...Vin," he rasped weakly. His voice barely reached his own ears and he didn't have the energy to repeat the word. He felt weak and tired and unable to think clearly.
He closed his eyes and tried to figure out why he was in the hospital. He didn't remember being shot, beaten or anything else that could cause him to feel this badly. He coughed into the oxygen mask and groaned softly.
Vin was instantly alert and sat up on the bed. He stood up and hurried to his friend's side, pressing the button to summon the nurse. He placed his hand on his friend's chest and watched as the eyes opened and the head turned towards him. "Merry Christmas, Cowboy."
"C...Christmas?" the blond stammered.
"That's right. It's Christmas morning. Eight am on Christmas morning to be exact."
"H...happened?"
Tanner looked to the door as a nurse entered. "He's awake," he told her.
"Good morning, Mr. Larabee."
He looked from one to the other and tried to concentrate. A soft moan left his mouth as he struggled to complete awareness.
"Easy, Chris," Tanner told him.
"Mr. Larabee, do you know where you are?"
He nodded his head as he slowly answered, "H...hospital."
"That's right," Doreen smiled as she held a straw to his mouth and let him sip the cold water.
"Why?"
"Why are you in the hospital?" she asked and he nodded. "Do you remember being sick?"
"Had a c...cold," his eyebrows furrowed and he glanced towards the sharpshooter. "Pneumonia?"
"That's correct, Mr. Larabee," the nurse told him as the door opened and a man Vin didn't recognize entered the room.
"Mr. Larabee, I'm John Thorpe and I'm a doctor here at Saint Vincents. Do you think you could do something for me?"
"What?"
"I want you to move your hands, arms and legs for me. Do you think you can do that?"
"I think so," the pale blond muttered as he moved first his hands, then his arms and legs. By the time he finished he felt weak and was being pulled towards sleep once more. "T...tired."
"Well then you just go on back to sleep. You've earned it," Thorpe told him.
"'K," Larabee's eyes began to close but he turned to his friend and smiled weakly before he gave in and let his heavy lids fall over the tired green eyes.
"He's gonna be okay, right Doc?" Tanner asked.
"He should be fine now, Mr. Tanner. He needs to rest and get his strength back."
"Thanks, Doc," Tanner said as he was once more left alone with Chris. He breathed a sigh of relief, his heart lurching as he realized he wouldn't be saying goodbye to his best friend. He settled back in the chair to wait for the others to arrive so he could give them the good news. They'd still be celebrating Christmas but it would be a little late. We've got a lot to be thankful for this year, Cowboy, he thought as he settled down and tried to sleep.
"Merry Christmas, sleeping beauty."
Larabee opened his eyes and looked into the familiar face of the man he'd known longer than any of the others. "Shoot y...you, B...Buck," he smiled weakly and reached for the buttons that would raise his head. He still felt weak but at least now some of the confusion and stiffness had left his body and the oxygen mask had been replaced with the annoying nasal canulas.
"Ya ain't got your gun there, Pard," the ladies' man laughed, feeling the fear and worry of the last few days leave his body. "How are you feeling, Chris?"
"I'm okay, Buck. A little tired but ok."
"That's good news, Chris," Wilmington's eyes filled with unshed moisture as he realized his friend really was going to get to spend a belated Christmas with them. "I thought we'd lost you," he muttered.
"I didn't want to come back, Buck," Larabee whispered, turning his head away from the moustached man.
Wilmington heard the sorrow in his voice and sat on the edge of the bed. He was alone with the blond and he knew instinctively his friend had something he needed to say. "Why, Chris?" he asked.
Larabee swallowed the lump in his throat. In the two days that passed since he'd finally woke up he'd been having flashbacks of his life with Sarah, most of them centering around the first Christmas he'd spent with Sarah and Adam. The memories were so fresh in his mind and he could've sworn he really was back with them. The touch of her hands on his body so real, the feel of her lips on his so clear.
"Chris?"
Larabee turned back to the ladies' man. "I was with Sarah and Adam, Buck. Not just dreaming of them but there in the house with them. I made love to her. I held Adam in my arms. They were here and God help me, Buck, I didn't want to leave them. I didn't want to come back here," he cried.
"Chris, you were in a coma for three days..."
"That's what the doctors tell me, but Buck it was so real. I was forced to give them up when they were taken from me but this time I could choose. I could've stayed with them. I could've been with them!"
"But it wouldn't have been real, Chris," Wilmington told him. "I believe you were with her but only because of the love you two had for each other."
"Not had, Buck, the love I have for her. I'll always have for her and Adam."
"What made you decide to come back?" Wilmington asked.
Larabee thought for a few minutes, wanting this man to know everything he felt. "You and the others. I heard you talking about the Christmas when the six of you showed up carolling on my doorstep. I heard you singing and I knew I had to come back. I knew it wasn't time for me to go. Sarah and Adam will be there for me when the time comes but for now I have to stay with my new ragtag family. You guys brought me back and I guess you're stuck with me."
"Chris, that's the best news I've had in a long time. When you get out of here we're really gonna celebrate Christmas in style."
"I want you guys to come out to the ranch, Buck."
"Chris, you won't be able to stay on your own for a week or so."
"I know that but I want to have you guys there to celebrate Christmas just like we planned before I got sick."
"I'll talk to the boys, Pard, I'm sure we can figure something out."
"Thanks, Buck," Larabee mumbled as he drifted off to sleep again.
Chris sat in front of the roaring fire. The large Pine tree was lit with brightly colored lights and he could smell the Turkey roasting in the oven. Christmas was going to be a week late for him but the spirit was building inside him and a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time flowed through his veins.
His strength was slowly returning but the six men he called family wouldn't let him do anything to help with dinner preparation. He smiled as he took a shiny object from his pocket and held it to his heart. God, I miss you both so much, he thought, a single tear slipping from his eyes.
"Chris?"
Larabee looked into the concerned face of the man he considered a brother. "Vin, thank you."
"For what?"
"For telling me about the gift your mother gave you."
"H...How did you..."
"I'm not sure, Vin, but I heard all of you. The poem you read. The one by Robert Louis Stevenson it meant a lot to me. If there was a real land of Nod I'd be proud to have you take me there."
"Who knows, Chris, maybe someday Nod will be something we can find by day or night. A place where everyone can go to escape real life for a while."
"For now, Vin, I'm happy to be a part of this world. I have a lot of reasons to be thankful this year and six of them are here in my home."
"Hey you two, come and get it," Wilmington's voice called from the dining room.
"You ready?" Tanner asked.
"I think so," Larabee answered. He glanced at the picture in the locket and closed it before placing it in his pocket. He walked beside Vin Tanner and was soon seated at the head of the table, the turkey sitting on a table beside him. "Josiah, would you do the honors."
Seven pairs of hands clasped tightly and the voice of the ex-preacher was the only sound in the room. "We give thanks oh, Lord, for the bountiful feast you've seen fit to bestow on us. This year we also give thanks for returning a lost lamb to our fold, Amen."
Larabee swallowed as the words of the preacher made him realize these men really were his family and he never had to be alone again. "Amen," he said as he stood up and carved the turkey.
"Will Daddy be okay, Mommy."
Sarah looked at her son, tears shining in her eyes. She knew Chris would be alright now, knew his family would take care of him. She held her son's hand and smiled at him, the green eyes so like his father's filled with a longing that mirrored her own. "He'll be fine now, Adam. He's got a family who cares about him."
"Does that mean he won't love me and you anymore?" the small voice sounded sad as Sarah knelt before him.
"Daddy will always love us, Adam, but right now he need to stay here and finish the work God has given him."
"But what if he gets hurt again?"
"His friends will help him."
"Are we his angels, Mommy?"
"Yes, darling, we're his guardian angels and we'll watch over him," she said, her hand touching her stomach wistfully. "It's time for us to go," she told him. "I love you, Chris."
"I love you, Daddy."
Chris lifted his head as the familiar scent of lilac reached him. It overpowered everything in the room and he sank into his chair, unaware of the curious glances turned his way. He knew the scent and knew she'd been here, a serene smile came over his pale features and he glanced around the room. I love you too, he thought before returning his attention to the men at the table. He lifted the glass beside him and stood up. "To family, old and new," he said as he downed the glass of non-alcoholic wine Jackson insisted he have because of the medication he was still taking.
"To family, old and new," the others echoed the sentiment, knowing it was given from the heart, one brother to another, at a time of year when family was the most precious gift of all.
THE END