Buck stared at the pile of puffy blue nylon. 

“Guess that answers one question,” he mused. 

Gingerly, he slipped a finger into the loop in the neck of the jacket, lifting it from the scuffed wood of the hallway floor.

“Hold it!” Nick ordered, stooping to prod a bulge in the pocket of the oversized jacket.  He pulled a pair of plastic gloves out of his own suit coat, and snapped one onto his right hand.

He slid the hand into the pocket of the blue nylon jacket and felt around for a moment.  Buck’s brows arched as two white-gloved fingers emerged from the bottom of the jacket, accompanied by a small puff of fluffy white feathers.  He flashed on an image of the blood-stained carpet, littered by those same tiny feathers. 

“Must have shot Jenner right through the pocket,” Nick remarked as he pulled a handgun from the pocket.

Buck nodded absently.  He dropped the garment back onto the floor, straightening and turning to Vin’s door. 

Nick bagged the gun, then dropped it into his own pocket. 

“So, how do we…”  The detective broke off, eyes widening, as Buck reached out, turned the handle and opened the door.

“Shit!  He leaves his door unlocked in this neighborhood?”

Buck shook his head and stepped into the apartment.  No sign of Vin.  The couch was empty, the bathroom door hanging open.  He could see into the kitchen.  No sign.  

His eyes shifted to the closed bedroom door. 

“He’s here,” he said softly.  “I know it.”

Nick moved to the bedroom door, obviously surprised when it didn’t open under his hand.

“Damn.”  Buck crouched beside the little table at the end of the couch. 

“This is crazy.  Place is open wide, bedroom’s locked.”  Nick was shaking his head in puzzlement.

“Makes sense if you’re Vin Tanner,” Buck responded.  He stood, the open lock box in his hand.  “Vin takes care of the kids in this building.  Leaves the door open so they can come in and use his computer.  He don’t give shit if he has to replace it once in a while; helps his kids.”

Nick shook his head, smiling sadly.  “Robin Hood.”

“Yup.”

He moved past Nick, running his eyes over the locks on the bedroom door.  “But he’s a weapons specialist.  Owns himself a little arsenal of guns and other weapons.  Those he keeps in gun safes in the bedroom.  He locks the bedroom door because he doesn’t want his kids getting their hands on those guns.”

He held the empty box out to the detective.  “He keeps his spare keys in here.  He’s in there.  He’s locked himself in.”  He banged on the door with his free hand.  “Vin!  Vin!  C’mon, Junior, let me in!”

No response.

“Damn.”  Nick had left Vin’s keys and wallet at the crime scene.  As evidence, they had to be cataloged and processed.

“Okay.”  Buck pulled in a big breath, leaned back and shot his foot out at the door, just inside the handle.  “We do this the hard way.”

“Buck!  You can’t…”

“You can’t, Nick,” he panted.  “I got me a hurt friend on the other side of that door.  I’ll do any damned thing I need to!”

At the third kick, the doorjamb cracked.  At the fifth, the door sagged inward, allowing them to wriggle past.

Buck straightened, then froze, staring down at the bed.

They’d found him. 

Vin lay motionless, soundless.  He’d curled his bruised, blood-streaked body into a tight ball.  He wore only a filthy, torn t-shirt and a pair of blood-soaked socks.

Buck moved slowly toward the bed, dimly aware of Nick calling for an ambulance.

“Oh, Junior,” he mourned, dropping gently down to sit on the mattress next to that motionless body.  Carefully, he reached out to sweep tangled hair away from the young man’s face, wincing at the bruises on brow and throat.  He brushed the backs of his fingers over an ashen cheek, then felt at the throat for a pulse, shocked at the chill of Vin’s skin.

“Damn, he’s freezing!”

He reached down and tugged the quilt free of the footboard, pulling it up to cover Vin’s ice-cold body. 

Nick snapped his cell phone closed and moved closer.  “Ambulance should be here soon.  Damn, Buck.”  He shook his head sadly, scanning over the tightly curled mound on the bed.  “Damn, I’m so sorry.”

“He’s gonna be fine!” Buck snarled, gaze fixed on the motionless face.  “Got a good, strong pulse.  He’ll be just fine!”

“Sure,” Nick soothed.  “I’m sure he will.”

“Hey, Vin,” Buck crooned, rubbing his thumb tenderly over a sharp cheekbone.  “Hey, pard, ya wanna open those eyes?  Ol’ Buck’d really like to see those baby blues.  C’mon, buddy.”

He caught his breath as long lashes quivered.

“Atta boy, come on back,” he whispered.  “Just open ‘em up.  You’ll see.   I got ya; you’re gonna be just fine.”

A tiny, sharp sound came from Vin’s throat.  His eyes flew open and his body arched.

“No!  G’t offa me, bast’rd!” he rasped, voice a strained whisper.

“Vin!”  Buck tried to counter the weak struggling without causing any additional hurt.  “Easy, easy… it’s just me.  Just Buck.”

“K… kilt ya!  I kilt ya…”  Trapped, Vin lay panting harshly, eyes squeezed shut.  “I did.”

“Shhh, shhh.  Ya did, son.  You killed both of those bastards.”  Buck held him tightly, begging those eyes to open again and really see him.  “It’s all right, Junior.  You’re safe now.”

Vin caught his breath and froze.  His head tilted slightly, eyes sliding open a fraction.  “B… Buck?”

Buck felt the relaxation of relief flood through his body.  “Yeah, Junior,” he whispered.  “I got ya.”

Too-bright blue eyes stared up at him.  Vin’s bruised mouth quivered, lips opening and closing silently.  Finally, he breathed, “Home.  Safe.”

Buck dropped his forehead to rest against Vin’s matted hair as the eyes slid shut and the body relaxed into unconsciousness.  “Safe, Vin.  We got you.  You’re safe.”

“You going to be okay, Buck?”

Buck started, realizing that the car had stopped by the emergency entrance to the hospital.  He glanced down at the inactive cell phone he clutched in his hand, grimacing slightly.

He pulled in a deep breath, then expelled it sharply, giving his head a vigorous shake.  He was a long way from done.

Sliding the unused phone back into his pocket, he reached over to shake the detective’s hand.

“I’ll be okay, Nick.  Can’t thank you enough, for calling me, for helping me with Vin.  And for the ride.  I’ll send someone for my truck.”

“You know it was no problem, Buck.  And I’m really so sorry about Tanner.”

Buck sighed, eyes tracking an ambulance crew as they loaded an empty stretcher into the back of their vehicle.  “Gotta call my team, let ‘em know…  Shit, Nick.  How the hell do I tell them this?”

“I take it you’re close.”

“Oh, yeah.  Family, ya know?”

Nick squeezed his shoulder firmly.  “Then you’d best get on that phone, buddy.  It’s not going to get any easier.”  He stretched across Buck’s body to open the car door.  “Let me park, then I’ll be in.  I’ll let the hospital know what’s going on, then get out of your hair.  We’ll need to talk to your boy, soon as he’s ready, okay?  Give me a call.  Just don’t let it go too long or my captain will be after him. Oh, and I’ll hang on to the guns until you can collect them.”

“Yeah. Okay.”  Buck ducked out of the car, stood and straightened, arching his stiff back.  He stooped and reached through the door for a final handshake.  “Thanks again, Nick.  I won’t forget this.”

For a long moment, he watched the fading taillights as the car pulled out of the circular drive and into the hospital’s parking lot.  Then he reached into his pocket for the abandoned phone.

No putting it off any longer.

He twisted his wrist to check the face of his watch.  Christ.  How could it only be four forty?  Surely more than two hours had passed since he got that phone call.

Stiffening his back in symbolic self-support, he dialed Josiah’s office number.  Two rings.  Three.

Damn it, Josiah.  Don’t make me do this again!

“Sanchez.”  Panting a bit. 

“Josiah.”

“Buck.  I thought you were going to call in.”

“I am.  I… ah… Is Chris back yet?”

“Nope.  You okay, Buck?  You sound a bit off.”

“Uh… No.  No, I’m not really okay, ‘Siah.  Damn.  Any idea when Chris will be done with that damned meeting?”

“No.  What’s the deal, Buck?  Is this something we want to interrupt the Big Boys for?”

“Oh, God, Josiah.  I think it is.  I… Damn!  This is…  Josiah, Vin’s hurt.  I’m at the hospital ER with him.”

“Vin?  How?  What happened?”  The older man’s voice rose in agitation.  “We’ll be there in twenty… fifteen minutes!”

“No, Josiah!  Hold off for a bit, okay?  Just Chris.  For now, I think just Chris needs to be here.  I’ll tell you all later, but right now… well, it just isn’t something I can explain over the phone, and I don’t think Vin needs all of us crowding around him right now.”

“What do I tell the rest of the team, Buck?”

“Nothing right now.  I’ll explain, but tomorrow, okay?  I gotta tell you, Josiah, I’m about at the end of my tether, here.”

“Well,’ nothing’ is gonna be a mite difficult, as they’re all standing around grimacing and poking me.  And sharing the burden eases the load, my friend.”

Buck allowed his head to drop forward, squeezing his eyes shut.  “Oh, damn.  I can’t.  Not yet.  Look, ‘Siah, I need to get inside and find out what’s going on.  Just tell ‘em… tell ‘em I’ll talk to them later, and that they’re just gonna have to be patient.  It matters, ‘Siah.  Keep them away for a few hours.  But get Chris, even if you have to bust in on that damned meeting.  He needs to be here, if for nothing else than for the legal stuff.”

“Legal!  Just how bad is he, Buck?”

“Easy, Josiah.  It doesn’t look like it’s all that bad, at least on the medical side.  But you know the doc won’t talk to me.   It has to be Chris.”

“’At least on the medical side,’ huh.”  A long, expectant pause, then, “You do know that doesn’t make it any easier to stay away, don’t you?”  Buck heard the deep sigh through the thin transmission of the cell phone.  “All right, brother.  For now.  But you’d better be ready to talk later.  I’m assuming you’ll still be where you are in the mornin’?”

Buck answered the sigh.  “I ‘spect.  He’s gonna be here for a couple of days at least.  Get on with it, Josiah.  We need Chris.”

He jabbed the button on the phone, then straightened his back and turned toward the rotating door of the emergency room. 

He figured he still had a long night ahead of him.

He was a bit surprised at the calm of the ER waiting room.  These places were usually loud and chaotic.  Must have been a slow afternoon.

Buck winced at his stupid thoughts.  Days at the emergency room should always be slow.

He turned at a touch on his shoulder, smiling slightly at Nick’s raised brow.  Together, they approached the counter.

He tapped lightly on the wooden surface of the counter.  “Excuse me, Miss.”

The young woman behind the desk lifted her attention from her computer, smiling at him.  “Can I help you, sir?”

“Tanner.  Vin Tanner.  Just came in.”

“Oh, yes.”  She nodded and glanced back at her screen.  “They’ve just taken him back.”

Nick offered his identification.  “Detective Nick Adamson.  Mister Tanner was the victim of a criminal assault.  I’ll need to speak to the hospital administrator, then the doctor.  Afraid my people are going to be under your feet for the next day or so.”

She nodded, reaching for the telephone.  “Thanks for letting us know, sir.  I’ll let Doctor Trent know you need to see him.  If you could just wait a few moments…?”

Nick nodded, clapped Buck on the shoulder, and moved away, a long, tired sigh escaping as he eased himself into one of the padded waiting room chairs.

Buck leaned across the counter.  “Vin’s a good friend, miss.  Can you tell me how he’s doin’?”

She frowned slightly, tapping keys.  “Are you family?”

“No, ma’am.”  He’d known this would be a problem.  “Just a really close friend.  Vin don’t really have any family.”

“Hmm.  He’s been with us before; just bringing up his insurance info.”

“Yeah, boy’s been here a few times.  I take it you’re kinda new here.  Most of the ER folks know us a lot better than they wish they did.  Look, can I get an update?  Find out what’s goin’ on?”

“A Mr. Chris Larabee is listed as next of kin.”

“He’ll be comin’ soon as he can.  He’s unavailable right now.  I’d really like to know Vin’s all right.”

“He’s being seen by the doctor…”

A familiar hoarse cry from the region behind the desk interrupted her.

“No!  Getcher… Bastards!”

Buck charged around the desk and through the swinging doors, ignoring the protests of the receptionist, then paused, faced with a half dozen closed doors.

“Sir!  You can’t go back there!  Sir!”

“Nooo!”

Ignoring the trailing receptionist, he followed the cry into an examination room then jerked again to a halt, sorting out the confusion.  Vin’s arching body surrounded by white coats.  Two women stretched over the exam table attempting to prevent him from twisting himself over the edge; a young man sprawled against the wall, hand clutched over his nose.  And a bigger man gripping one of Vin’s clawed hands, reaching for the restraints under the edge of the table.

“No!”  Buck put every scrap of authority he possessed into that order, then moved swiftly forward to displace the orderly.  “Don’t!  No fuckin’ restraints, you idiot!”

He elbowed the big man away from the table, reaching for Vin’s shoulders.  “Easy, pard.  You’re okay.”

Vin cried out again, wrenching away from the hands grasping him.

Buck wrapped an arm around the writhing body, ignoring the big orderly and speaking firmly to the two women without taking his eyes off Vin’s grimacing face.  “Back away, ladies.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but we have to…”

“Honey, you’re scarin the shit outta him!” he insisted, attention focused on wrestling with the struggling man under his hands.  “Now just back away for a second, okay?”

“But…”

“It’s all right, Barb.  Let Mister Wilmington handle him.”

Buck glanced up sharply at the familiar voice.  “Hey, Doc.”

Doctor Emily Stark smiled grimly, and pulled the nurse further from the table.  “Calm him down, Buck.  He calms, or we have to restrain him.”

Buck turned back to Vin, shifting his hands to a more gentle hold.  “You do and you’ll push him right over the edge, ma’am.”  He smiled gently at the dazed blue eyes squinting up from the table.  “Hey, Junior.  Ease up.  It’s just ol’ Buck.”

The pained heaving of the chest under him eased.  “B… Buck?”

His smile widened at the hopeful, husky stammer.  “Yup.  Just me.  And you’re fine, Vin.  Just fine.  Look around.  Ya know where you are?”

The blue eyes tightened as Vin’s shaggy head wagged slightly side to side.  “Hurts.” 

“I know, buddy.  I know you hurt.  But you gotta calm down, okay?”

“H… hurts.”  Vin squeezed his eyes shut, and Buck finally got it.

“Oh, too bright, huh?”  He glanced up briefly and nodded as the doctor dimmed the lights.  “C’mon, try again.”

Vin cautiously slitted his eyes open again, looking up at Buck, then flickering his gaze to the side as the doctor loomed over him.

Buck felt the younger man’s body tense again, and reached up to stroke matted hair.  He jerked his hand away as Vin flinched.

“Okay, Vin.  You’re fine.  It’s just me and Doc Stark.  Just the doctor.  You’re at the hospital, son.”

Vin squinted at the doctor, obviously having trouble focusing his vision.  “D… doctor Stark?”

She eased closer.  “That’s right, Vin.  The ambulance just brought you in.  We need to check you out, all right?”

He pulled back as far as Buck’s hold would allow.  “No!  I… I’m fine.  Don’t need y’all maulin’ me!”

“No, Vin,” Buck soothed.  “Ya know ya ain’t fine.”  He shook his head as that sharp jaw tensed.  “Don’t ya go sassin’ me, son.  Light’s botherin’ you a bit, isn’t it.”  Vin refused to acknowledge the pain he was obviously still feeling.  “Eyes ain’t so sharp either, right?   Head feels like somebody’s hammering from the inside out, I bet.  And…” he rubbed a bare shoulder gently.  “And that ain’t all, is it, pard?”

Vin’s teeth clamped onto his lower lip, and he squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to the side. 

“Now, ya know I’m right, Vin.”  Buck glanced up to see the doctor arching her brows suggestively, lifting a syringe.  “The doc here’s ready to give you something to make you more comfortable.  But ya gotta let the lady check you out.”

Doctor Stark moved closer, carefully touching Vin’s arm with her free hand.  “This is just a bit of a painkiller, Vin.  I promise we’ll be as gentle as we can, but you know we have to take a look.”

Vin’s lips tightened, head shifting slightly left to right in denial.  The doctor stood quietly, not moving.  After a tense moment, he finally relaxed and nodded, eyes still averted.  Quickly, she injected the medication into the IV port.

“Can’t you just knock him out, Doc?” Buck asked, still stroking Vin’s shoulder.  “You know what…?

She nodded, acknowledging that she knew just what problems she was dealing with. 

“It’d be a hell of a lot easier on him if…”

Her head was shaking firmly.  “Buck, he’s clearly concussed.  We can’t depress him neurologically any more than absolutely necessary until we really know what we’re dealing with.  And you know you can’t stay in here.”

“Damn.”  He looked back down at Vin’s averted face.  “Shit.  Hey, buddy.”  Gently, he slid a finger under Vin’s jaw and pulled his face around so he could look into the other man’s eyes.  His throat tightened at the defeat he saw there. “Ah, Junior.  It’s gonna be fine.  I gotta leave you to the doc for a bit.”  Anxiety flared in those blue eyes.  “Hey, none of that.  You know her.  She ain’t gonna hurt you if she can help it.  I’ll be outside, okay?  You behave.  No cussin’ at these nice folks.”

Slowly, he released his hold, stepping back from the table.  Vin’s eyes followed him.

“All right, Doc,” he said quietly.  “He’s all yours.  But…”  He lifted his eyes sternly to meet her gaze.  “You leave them restraints alone.  That’s the last thing he ever needs, especially right now.  You can’t hold him, you send someone for me.  No restraints.”

“Buck…”

“No.  Restraints.  You got it?  I wanna hear you say it.”

Frowning, she tilted her head, assessing.  Then she nodded.  “All right.   No restraints.  Now get out of here.”

He met Vin’s eyes once more, flashed the younger man a strong “thumbs up,” and left to return to the waiting room.

Part 8