Bleakest Belief
Disclaimer: Mine? I laugh in the face of such absurdity. Ha Ha Ha
A/N – This has been begging to be written for months and I kept ignoring it, shoving it back to the dark reassess of my mind while I attempted to concentrate on other stories….obviously that wasn't successful.
Thanks to Teresa and Bug for editing.
Part 1 of two -
Part 1
Do not loiter needlessly - if possible use far right elevator for floors 10+.
And for god's sake – be quiet.
*If necessary – apologise and run*
The sign was taped to the glass walls of the entrance lobby to floor nine, twice, once on the right and once on the left. Overkill perhaps, but not in the eyes of floor nine secretary pool, who felt that they were more than necessary.
For the past week the left hand offices of floor nine, and much of the surrounding corridor had become 'venture at own risk' territory….
Chris Larabee was on the warpath.
Chris shifted uneasily as he ignored the uncomfortable tingling blossoming into a constant itch between his shoulder blades, attempting to complete the remnants of what had initially been a mammoth pile of paperwork; which over the past nine days had dwindled to the last few and least liked tasks.
The itch, as well as a stinging tightness across his scalp and hair raised irritatingly against his neck, were all just the physical factors of his general state of restlessness of the past week. This unspecific anxiety and agitation enhanced the 'Bad Element' persona, resulting in one short tempered and wrathful Christopher Larabee.
It wasn't the infuriated aggravation that only Ezra could provoke, nor the maddening exasperation that was Vin Tanner's trademark, but it was a deep uneasy sense of just wrong.
He couldn't hunt down a perp, make a bust, turn some evidence or crack a case to make the niggling feeling of disquiet go away…indeed, there was nothing but time that would make everything right in his world again.
Glancing at his watch, and noting the 4:39pm time stamp, Chris shook his head ruefully, dropped his pen into the top drawer of his desk, straightened the small pile of documents and placed them in his 'to do' tray.
Pushing his chair in neatly as he got to his feet and grabbed his leather bag and coat from behind the door, Chris wandered into the main area, closing and locking his office door behind himself and made his way to the break room to retrieve his water bottle from the fridge.
Entering the widespread mess of various desks that made up his teams personal work spaces Chris sighed at its nigh on deserted state. He turned to the centre of the room where two desks were parallel, finding JD fiddling with something on his phone; the boy looked up when he felt Chris's gaze. The young man was seated to the side of his own desk, feet up on the mirror image opposite, Buck not there to protest the abuse of his table. JD's bag rested on the floor by his chair, his desk a neat orderly chaos of misshapen paperwork and…Yes, a rubber chicken. JD grinned, obviously taking in Chris's own preparations to leave and widened his eyes beseechingly, trying hard not to look longingly at the door.
"Oh fine…get out of here..." Chris capitulated, making an abortive shooing motion, shaking his head at JD's exuberant 'Whoop!'
The youngster was almost out the door as Chris called after him, "Six o' clock JD…and watch the road!" He caught what could have been an assuring agreement or something else entirely, and Chris snorted affectionately to himself as he turned to the only other present member of his team.
"Leaving early, Mr Larabee?… Your fellow workaholics will be most displeased…" the silky tone reached his ears despite Ezra being bent over his desk, his back to Chris, head down, pen scrawling across the page at a steady rate.
"Benefits of being the boss I suppose….speaking of workaholics…are you just about done? Much longer and it'll be after hours and I may have to mark it in my calendar…" Chris quipped.
Ezra finally turned to look at him, "Most amusing…but I wouldn't recommend giving up your day job…as for this, a few moments more and then I shall lodge it in preparation for first thing Monday…."
Chris nodded his understanding as he replied, "Okay…I'll see you in a few hours then…"
Ezra flexed the fingers of his hand, "Yes, I'll attain myself a change of clothing from home and then I shall be on my way…I look forward to seeing the rest of our motley crew as well…"
Chris grinned at the thought, irritated restlessness easing as he thought on the approaching evening, the dark cloud of his disquiet fading as he headed towards the door, throwing over his shoulder, "….Give us a call before you leave, the roads are a mess…"
He politely ignored the muttered "Yes, mother" as he left the office, Ezra's pen already scraping on paper behind him.
Each step Chris took along the corridor saw his mood lightening. The storm cloud that had hovered over the team 7 office finally dissipated to soft sunshine with rebellious thunder growling in the distance. The small smile on his face during the whole 7.5 minute wait for the elevator had the two young ladies from team 1 terrified.
His humming in the subsequent 3 minute ride to the garage caused one man to get off on the wrong floor and another to wander around for the rest of the evening humming an awfully catchy yet unknown tune, which he then passed onto his eldest daughter, who passed it onto her boyfriend, who passed it to his younger brother and so on and so forth, thus creating an 'earworm' epidemic on the east side of the city.
Despite the frigid cold that immediately leached all warmth lingering from his body as he stepped into the garage, Chris didn't bother to stop and pull the heavy winter coat on, knowing that the interior of his truck would be toasty warm within a few moments.
Taking his own advice to the two younger men, he eased onto the icy highway carefully, staying safety under the speed limit as the white snowfall became heavy mounds of pillow soft coldness against the frozen sidewalks and lawns. The road had recently been swept clear of any gathering snow yet Chris knew that it would only be moments before build ups began again. Visibility was pretty decent for the moment, but he knew that it wouldn't stay so, not with the blizzard they had predicted for later in the evening – hence, part of his wish to be home early.
The drive from the ATF building to his ranch was just under an hour and Chris hummed the whole way.
Finally, in an hour…just one hour's time and the irritating wrong would be righted…the niggling feeling of unease which hadn't left him for the past week and a half would finally settle as he got all six of his men in the same place at the same time.
Naturally, being a team, the seven spent a lot of their time together; working together, socializing together and in some cases, living together. Thankfully they all got along well and enjoyed each other's company and had formed close bonds of friendship and brotherhood.
As with any group of people who spent a large quantity of their time together, sometimes they did require breaks, time away from each other; Buck sought the company of various woman friends, Ezra his upper society lifestyle, Josiah his quiet reflective culture within the church, Nathan enjoyed Rain's company and JD his technological escapes, and more recently, Casey's companionship. Chris and Vin didn't seek respite from each other; content with the quiet peacefulness that fell between them, neither encroaching on the others space. Yet, Chris escaped to his ranch when memories became too much and Vin sometimes lit out for the mountain trails alone for a few days, one with nature when the hustle and bustle of city life wore him down.
Despite this need for solitude and individual peace, team 7 had become more than just a team; they were family, many of them placing the entirety of their self-worth and being in the make-up of the group, and as such, divined their respect, affection, confidence and persona from the team as a whole…it was perhaps a little too co-dependent or inter-reliant and in some teams, may have been cause for concern…but for team 7, who boasted the highest bust rate, lowest civilian casualty rate and several international records amongst them…whatever they were doing, it worked.
Which is why, after not having had the entire team in the same place, at the same time, under his watchful eyes, in over a week, Chris Larabee was like a mama bear who had misplaced one of her cubs. As the leader, father figure, authority holder, and protector of his team, this unusual separation caused undirected concern as well as emotional strain.
The truck clock, glowing bright orange in the cab showed the time as being just after 6:20pm and he knew he was halfway home.
He expected a warm house when he walked in, the fireplace roaring, coffee percolating and barbecue fired up; after all, Josiah and Buck had been there since lunch time and Nathan only a couple of hours later.
Buck and Josiah had been called away to testify at an out of state trial last Thursday, and had been gone since then, the travel time and court case both taking longer than approximated due to weather and jury issues respectively. Coincidentally, Nathan had been signed up for a paramedic's training course and seminar that started on Monday and ran the whole week…and upon realizing that with not only his absence but Josiah's as well, the team would be down the only two members 'with even a modicum of common sense' and out of fear of returning to find the rest of the team in various states of injury and worse, had all but begged Chris to put a hold on their case load.
Chris had agreed, although only after Nathan had agreed to amend his 'most responsible' list to include Chris in at least a part time status. As a result he'd used the opportunity to fulfill several obligations and promises he'd been putting off.
Chris himself had bitten the bullet and immersed himself in the monotonous mountain of paperwork that he never seemed to 'get around to', although, to his credit, he'd made the wise decision of keeping Ezra as his lackey…minion…underling… assistant. Of all his men, Ezra with his enhanced vocabulary, exemplary penmanship and considerable experience, always produced the clearest and most concise reports, and Chris had taken advantage of that in the past week – already the agent had completed the quarterly expense report, requisite back up reports, annual data referral and was apparently lodging the budget assessment this afternoon – all of which would have taken Chris at least a month…the man was seriously a godsend.
JD had been requisitioned by several other teams, each having solicited the young tech's help at various points in the past for non-urgent matters. JD had spent Monday with team 6, explaining one of the new software systems that they had to use. He'd spent Tuesday morning in the tech labs on the fifth floor explain something Chris had barely understood even after the third time JD had explained it to him. Karen, team 4's new tech agent, fresh from the academy, had begged JD to show her the best way to handle the complete technophobes that made up her team, keeping him busy most of Wednesday. Thursday and Friday had been met with more of the same.
Despite the fact that each ATF team had its own 'Tech proficient' agent and the building having an actual 'tech department' JD was still in high demand…he was exceptionally talented technology-wise, the same as many of the other 'techies' in the building, but he also came with his own built in 'normal-ese' translator, and was able to explain the intricacies of whatever issue had arisen without making his audience feel like they were lost in some horror/Sci-Fi movie.
Vin had finally capitulated (been forced) to speak (demonstrate) at the annual ATF marksmanship conference in New York. The Texan had been invited (bribed) every year for the past 4 years, but had (as expected) refused. The conference was relatively short, only two days (Two days of hell Chris!), specifically Tuesday and Wednesday this year, and once realizing that it fell within their 'week of Bureaucratic extracurricular ' Chris had made the decision that Vin would be going this year, citing it as a method of brushing up his people skills ( Sure Chris!…Hi I'm Vin…this is my Rifle…)
Vin had been slightly (incredibly)stubborn in his unwillingness to attend, even going so far as to downright refuse. He didn't like crowds (New York City), didn't like the travel plans (Airplane),and really didn't like the idea of 'showing off' - to him his ability with a rifle was just that – ability. Not a talent or gift to be bragging about.
He'd said as much to Chris, who was sympathetic but had shot down most of his arguments - It wouldn't be crowded – as a private ATF function, only Agents, cadets and brass were invited, -– He had shaken his head ruefully at Vin's unwillingness to 'show off', the man was beyond brilliant with a rifle but still acted as though he was merely sufficient.
In the end Chris had gently coaxed and cajoled (threatened) until Vin had (reluctantly) agreed to attend…on one condition – he wasn't flying. And he wouldn't be shifted from that stance, no matter how Chris cajoled and coaxed (threatened), and so it was agreed that Vin would also have the week off –Sunday and Monday to drive to New York, Tuesday and Wednesday for the conference and then Thursday and Friday to return home.
It seemed ridiculous to drive almost two days when a three hour flight was available, but knowing how uncomfortable Vin could get in enclosed spaces, and especially as he would be on his own, minus the team, Chris had approved the arrangements.
And so the team had been split apart, fragmented all across the country for the past week and a half…and Chris couldn't look more forward to the time when everything would finally fall back into place.
Ten minutes out from his place Chris heard his phone ding softly… once, twice. He pulled over, easing onto the white covered shoulder as he grabbed his phone from his bag, assuming correctly that the approaching blizzard was playing havoc with the signal and he'd just driven into a 'clear' stretch.
You have 2 new messages, you have 2 saved messages.
Message received today at 6:28pm –
"Mr Larabee – As per your instructions –I am departing Denver now and shall see you in approximately one hour"
To send a copy press 1, to save pre..
- 5
Message Deleted
Message Received today at 6:34pm –
"jus' got home – grabbing my sweats and 'll be on my way…see ya before 8"
To send a copy press 1, to save press 2, to repl..
- 5
Message De…
Tucking the phone back in his bag Chris didn't bother hiding his smile.
Everything was as it should be.
Chris rolled to a stop in his driveway just before 7pm, gathering his armful of belongings he headed towards the warmly lit house, already able to hear Buck's grousing and JD's bellows of a kid too long separated from his older brother. He passed the inky blackness of the barn, not even starlight breaking through the steadily growing greyness of the sky. He smiled as a soft nicker greeted him, knowing that at some stage in the next two days all seven horses would have the company of their owners. Continuing on towards the house Chris shivered as something cold and wet landed on the exposed skin of his neck, and sure enough, it was starting to snow; he hurried his pace only to be startled for an instant when the soft glow of the porch light lit the front yard.
Then the front door opened and Buck stood silhouetted in the frame.
"Old Dog!" he crowed, launching himself down the steps and divesting Chris of his bag.
Smiling deeper, Chris strode up the steps, towards the warm glow spreading from the welcoming doorway. Buck stepped out of the way as Chris passed him, shutting the door, closing in the warmth that the night air was trying to leach away.
Chris, against his usually anal impulses, slung his jacket at the nearest seat, easily covering most of JD's head and only the boy's fast reflexes saving him from being brained with the leather satchel as Buck copied his motion. Snorting as Buck, obviously re-seating himself on the floor at JD's feet, roared with laughter, making JD light up as well, Chris moved to warm his hands in front of the cheery open fireplace blazing merrily in the den. He heard the final jingle, indicating that someone had locked the door behind them, and then the belying soft footfalls that Chris immediately recognized as Nathan's marked the medic's passage into and then his return from the kitchen.
"Coffee…" it wasn't a question, but then it didn't need to be as Chris accepted the warm mug from his friend and allowed himself to be shepherded to his armchair in the den…obviously he wasn't the only one who had felt the niggling unease. Settling in the comforting familiarity of his chair, Chris found he didn't really mind Nathan's hovering. The medic, having already squared JD away with his own blanket and mug in the matching armchair, was obviously still waiting on his two prime targets.
As if reading his mind, Nathan enquired, "Vin and Ezra?"
Buck and JD looked up, intent on hearing the information despite Buck having JD's leg trapped beneath his arm and JD's hand in a lax grip on his 'weapon of choice' – the magazine from the side table.
Chris answered, "Ez should be here in half an hour or forty five minutes, and Vin's not too far behind him…Josiah?"
Nathan nodded to the kitchen as he leaned against the wall beside the currently off Television. He's been in there for the last hour perfecting his Chili..." From where Buck continued, "Although how much more perfect you can get after re-heating I'll never know"
Chris smirked at the truth to the statement, although he knew Josiah's obsessive relationship with his Chili and so wouldn't question the man…was just thankful that he hadn't had to cook after the last week he'd had.
Josiah's salt and pepper head stuck itself around the door frame and he pointed a rather menacing sauce covered spoon at the ladies' man, "I heard that Buck Wilmington!...Just because you don't understand the finer joys of the culinary profession doesn't mean …"
Buck held his hands up pleadingly, determined not to be excluded from Josiah's Chili as had happened with the offended chef in the past, "Oh no Josiah…you have me all wrong…I only meant that your Chili is perfect without anything further!"
Josiah looked at him suspiciously, not fooled in the least before giving it up, slipping into an easy grin, "Well…I suppose that your intended meaning outshines the assumed one…very well…" he disappeared and the sound of the spoon clattering into the sink was heard before the man reappeared in the den, seating himself on the three seater sofa.
"So, I hear that Vin and Ezra are not far away…how did your week with our intrepid southerner go?" the ex-preacher asked, turning his attention to Chris.
Chris grinned, wondering if he was brave enough to skew the truth, just a little, but decided against it. After all…it wouldn't do to insult the help…"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but he has been indispensable…hasn't caused me one headache all week…in fact he saved me more than one… "
Josiah laughed delightedly, "Perhaps Mr Tanner is more to blame for their shenanigans than we had realized…I have to say, it is always the quiet ones…"
Nathan snorted, "Vin has yet to pull the wool over my eyes, got the devil in him that one…"
Chris broke into laughter, glad to have the team reassembling before him, "I actually think, and I've thought on this a lot…way more than I should have…but Vin and Ezra are like two sections of a chaos wheel and there's only ever chaos when they are together….If I had any common sense I'd separate the pair of them…"
Buck added his own ending to Chris's theory, "Nah…you'd never do that…they'd break your heart– between Ez's woe begotten pout and Vin's puppy eyes you'd be lost in an instant…besides…they're damned entertaining… "
Chris had to concede the point, even just the thought of Vin's blue eyes staring at him morosely from under think lashes, tearing at his heartstrings, slathering him in thick layers of syrupy guilt and shame…..
Chris shook his head as he turned back into the conversation.
"…was quite informative…nothing I hadn't heard before…just basic field first aid and method training…but a refresher is always good…..how did your trial go?" Nathan was asking.
Josiah answered, "Long and decidedly boring, as we expected it would be…the most exciting thing that happened was half the jury came down with strep throat and had to be excused….it was successful, which I suppose is all anyone could ask…"
JD grinned, "You make it sound like you want one of Vin's legendary trials, where judges are poisoned and defendants pull knives…" Josiah grimaced at the memory of both those cases, shaking his head ruefully, suddenly glad for the run of the mill trial he and Buck had testified at.
It was a department joke, but Vin did seem to attend a ridiculous number of trials that turned sour… at first the assumption was that he was incredibly unlucky and agents had hoped that they wouldn't be required in the room while the Texan was present… and then the tide had changed, because Vin…and everyone else in the room, always walked away unscathed… he became the 'lucky SOB' instead.
"Speaking of Vin…have you heard how our shy young Texan coped in the big apple?"
Chris grimaced, and reached to grab his bag from where JD had dumped it on the table between their seats, and pulled his cell phone from its depths.
You have no new messages, you have 2 saved messages.
Message received, Tuesday 4th December, 2012 at 7:11pm
"…..ya heart out an' feed it ta the crows and then I'll… ' ack at the damn motel…its damn cold…room's too damn small and I damn well hate it!...
I had ta go first!...didn' have a clue what I was meant ta be doin…he say's shoot the target and so I does and then he just stares at me…an finally says…"I meant the 20 foot ones…exactly how far can you shoot with that accuracy, Tanner?!...
So then we had to test it…..
In fron' of ever'one…..and you said there wouldn't be a crowd…just a few agents and officials…it's a damn sports event Chris…ya can buy damn tickets
…people wanted my damn Autograph!
Aaagh damn it all to hell…and damn you to Lar'bee…go back ta where ya came from!
Aint no way in hell I'm ever gonna forgive ya!"
Beep
To send a copy press 1, to save pre..
-7
Message received, Wednesday 5th December, 2012 at 7:32pm
"This message was transmitted from hell…..
beep…be home Friday night….
Then I might forgive ya… beep"
To send a copy press 1, to sav
Beep
JD was laughing so hard that he had all but toppled from the seat onto Buck, who really wasn't fairing much better, "Damn Junior! He sure ain't too happy with you, Chris!"
Nathan had to seat himself on the ground from his position of leaning against the wall, easily able to hear the frustrated personality of their friend emanating from the phone…probably did the boy good, having to accept some recognition for his talents.
Josiah was grinning broadly at Chris's rueful features, the blond suddenly unsure about the reception he'd receive in the next while, once the Texan walked through the door. Vin hadn't exactly been very amicable…particularly not during the first message. He shook it off though, easily able to decipher true anger from flustered mortification…which positive attention always wrought from the younger man.
Sure, he would have to watch doorways for buckets of water and desks for nefariously placed stink bombs…but overall he figured he was pretty safe.
He was just handing the phone to the still madly cackling JD, who obviously wanted a replay, when the damn thing started ringing in his hand nearly making him drop it in his startled shock.
Two rings later:
"Larabee…"
"Ah! Than-k god Masta…Mista Lar-Larabee…I had did not think you would...it was a le-leave a message- I don' wanna leve a mess…I wanta talk to Mi Mast ….Chris!."
"Ezra….Ez is that you…what..?"
Chris saw Nathan immediately sit up straight, all recent humor forgotten…he also saw Buck start to pull on his shoes.
"It is indee…Ezaa – Ez'a…oh posh..Ez….I has to call…"
"Are you hurt Ez…What's going on?"
"H-hurt nuh…nope..not hurt..not me!...nope jus'…"
"Ezra…are you drunk?!"
Josiah looked up sharply…if he'd only left half an hour ago – how could he possibly be drunk?
"No –nope…Dunce…not drin-drinka and drive…stupid egghead…"
"So you're driving….where are you?"
"Note…not drivin…car is stooped…stopped…wonta go anoa mora…."
"Your car won't go?…Ez – are you in your car? what the hell, Ezra…you'd better not be having me on!…."
Nathan turned from his hastily fetched first aid kit to raise his eyebrows…if this was a stupid prank…
"No!...not koke..joke…I'm in – was drivi- driving…car won go…won move…"
"Your car won't move?...is it stuck in the snow…have you got a proper connection on your phone…I think your breaking up…you're not making much sense…?"
"Phone…black spot…stupid…finally…Oh! I no a know why - Know why car won go -won go…"
"You know why..Ez…whats wrong - "
"Ma car..mah jag..ma bab-"
"Ezra!"
"It's upside do-down!"
Twelve minutes later found Buck, Nathan and Chris all piled into the black Ram…barrelling down the driveway, wipers trying to clear a visible path in the ever thickening snowfall.
JD and Josiah had stayed, JD attempting to rouse an Ambulance on the steadier landline, Josiah because there was simply not enough room in the truck.
Nathan, in the backseat, had Chris's phone plastered to his ear, despite the speaker blaring, the phone was still hard to hear in the roar of the cab, and was steadily talking to the still rambling southerner, and occasionally snippets of the conversation reached Chris's ears –
"Is cold – alay's col…" "I know you're cold…we're coming Ez – "
Chris turned to Buck about 5 minutes into the drive, "Try calling Vin…JD has probably already done it…but just in case…"
Buck nodded and fished out his own cell, dialling the 2nd speed dial. It didn't ring, just went straight to voice mail, "Junior – you must be in a black spot – uh…Ez has had an accident…we don't know how bad yet, but he's talking to Nate on the phone…"there was a murmuring in the background before Buck continued, "Chris says that depending on when you left and how far Ez got before he crashed, you may be closer to him than we are…so keep an eye out…" another murmur and then, "call us when you get this…drive carefully…"
Buck chucked his phone on the dash and turned back to scanning the roads carefully, trying to spot the shine of a silver Jag.
A few minutes later and Chris almost swerved in fright when Buck's phone rang and the ladies' man scrambled for it, "Vin?!"
"No- JD…What's wrong with Vin?"
"Nothing kid…jut though he was returning my call…What's the news…"
"Uh…right…I rang the emergency line – all roads in and out of Denver are closed…the snow sweepers had to be stopped early as well – apparently that blizzard has set in over the city really fast and heavy…they said they couldn't get an ambulance to us…but John Peters was on shift and recognized my voice…he said that his crew would try to get to us…I – I told him no – said that Nate was back and that Ezra was talking…so I said we would try and get him back to the ranch, or break him through to Denver ourselves if we get really desperate…is…is that okay?"
Buck could hear the hesitancy in the boys voice, but he'd made the right call and told him as such, "Yes – good…Ez is still blabbering…we'll just have to see when we get there…you made the right decision, no use endangering more lives…"
"Okay…let us know as soon as you find him…Josiah and I will get the beds and anything else you might need ready…be careful…"
And then the phone was silent again.
Buck clicked the disengage call button, looking down to find the little red light before throwing the phone onto the seat beside him, within reaching distance.
He looked up and something caught his eye…it wasn't silver so he almost dismissed it, but then looked again…
"Chris!" he shouted pointing out the stooped, ambling figure of Ezra Standish as the chestnut hair glinted under snowy flakes, his eyes pinned to the road he walked beside obviously guiding his way.
Chris slammed on the brakes and the three of them were out of the car before it had even stopped moving, Ezra looked up at the sudden movement and he grinned, relief palpable before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped boneless to the snow.
Nathan reached the downed man first and shakily confirmed he had a regular steady pulse, before moving to examine the sluggishly bleeding wound inching into his hairline, "Buck – apply pressure there…the cold has helped slow the bleeding, but that's all it's helped…we need to get him inside…"
He ran his hands over Ezra's torso and extremities, noting flinches and winces that pulled at the unconscious man's face, most noticeable his left arm, "I can't be sure he doesn't have a back or neck injury…but I've done a triage scan and the fact that he was up walking reassure me…it's not conclusive…but we can't leave him here anyway – so Buck…help me get him in the truck…careful of his left arm, Its definitely broken…"
The three of them eased Ezra into the rear bench seat of the ram, Chris returning to the driver seat and Buck the front passenger, leaving Nathan to hold the young man still as they turned for home, fighting against the near white blur that the blizzard was becoming.
"Buck…Vin should be almost at the ranch, if not there already, so try him again – let him know we've found Ezra and are on our way back… "
Buck dialed again, listening for the tell tale rings that didn't come. Instead Vin's voice prompted him to leave a message again, "Vin – we have Ez and are going to the ranch because the roads are closed through to Denver…give us a call when you get this…or we'll see you when we get back to the ranch…'
Buck hung up, and turned to look over his shoulder at the pair in the back, Nathan's attention was riveted on his patient. Turning back to Chris , Buck sighed in sympathy, the road was an invisible mess, slippery and deceiving, visibility was non-existent and Chris was white knuckling the wheel, trying to get them home in one piece…there was something else though.
"What is it?" He asked of his oldest friend, hoping not to distract Chris from his task, but knowing whatever was worrying the blond in this situation had to be serious.
Chris relaxed minutely as attention was drawn to how tense he was as he answered, "Its Vin…he should have passed us on the road – If he wasn't far behind Ezra…."
Buck nodded, the same thought had crossed his own mind, but as he had convinced himself, he reassured Chris – "There are 4 or 5 other roads Vin could have taken – Ez always takes this one cos its easiest on the Jag…but Vin and that Jeep…."
Chris nodded in reluctant agreement, "I'll kill him if he did take one of those roads – he agreed –not in bad weather…"
Buck sniggered despite the situation, "Did he actually agree or did he just make you think he had….he's more like Ez than we give him credit for…I'm sure he's fine…look!….I can see the ranch lights…"
And sure enough, in the distance the warm glow of safety beckoned and Chris drove ever onward.
They arrived back at the ranch a several long torturous minutes later, noting the absent of Vin's jeep but were swept up in the rush to get Ezra checked over and settled inside, warm and secure.
Buck and Nathan eased the still unconscious man onto 'his' bed, in the room he usually shared with Vin, the small electric heater liberated from the basement to heat the room.
Nathan immediately swarmed him, utilising Josiah and Chris to assist in stripping away the wet clothes and replacing them with a set of Buck's sweats – much too long in the leg but the right size at the waist when held firm with the drawstring.
Nathan confirmed that the the southerner didn't appear to have a back or neck injury, thankfully, and also confirmed the previously diagnosed broken arm, which he splinted and wrapped until the swelling went down. The head injury was deemed mostly superficial, although certainly the cause of a significant concussion that, along with the cold, had caused the incoherency.
Shock, cold and fatigue had rendered him unconscious, but Nathan was fairly sure that he would wake within the next hour and then would have to be monitored every subsequent two- which he was already dreading – Ezra the non-morning person, who loved his sleep, forcibly awakened every two hours for the sadistic pleasure of his 'so called friends'
All in all, though, it seemed Ezra had gotten off fairly lightly.
The five, minus Ezra and Vin, had settled around the dinner table, Nathan having just returned from checking on the still out Ezra- whom he reported, was showing signs of waking.
The men were slowly eating their way through Josiah's pot of Chili, some put aside for Ezra and Vin. However, despite the fact that the southerner had been found and was resting just down the hall, and apparently not too worse for wear, the atmosphere in the room was somber.
The cause – Vin's worrisome absence… they had tried calling him again to no avail, and each had checked their phones for missed calls…but there was nothing at all. They had briefly considered splitting up to search for him, but not knowing what road he had taken and most of the cars being suited for the terrain as much as Ezra's Jag, changed their minds. The main road had been hell enough, most of the others would be not be traversable, even for Chris's Ram.
So they were at a cross roads, unable to move forwards or backwards, let alone left or right…
Chris pulled out his phone and left another message, the 12th in the past hour since they had found Ezra, "Vin…Where the hell are you…I swear to god, if you forgot your cell or its flat again…Ezra could have been killed…where the hell are you?! "
Each message had been getting steadily angrier as worry and frustration took their toll, but there was really nothing anyone could do.
"Do you think…I mean…Vin couldn't have crashed his jeep with the Jag right?" JD finally voiced the ludicrous theory that had crossed all their minds at some point.
It was Josiah who answered, " Not that I can possibly see…he was travelling well after Ezra and Ez surely would have said something…no, banish it from your mind JD…the fates are not that unkind…."
"Then where the hell is he!" Chris ranted getting to his feet, pacing out his anxiety…Its freezing out there and I ju-" he cut off abruptly as something caught his eye and he stared, a gut feeling of absolute dread sinking into the pity of his stomach.
The bright cheery digital '2' was flashing on his landline answering machine.
No one spoke, despite their concern, as Chris took the three mammoth steps - each a slow, herculean effort; reaching the bench and taking a shuddering breath he pressed the play 'messages button'.
Message received, Friday 7th December, 2012 at 6:41pm
Vin's slightly tinny voice engulfed the room.
"Chris – tried your cell but ya didn' answer , mus' be the storm…I – sorry , damn…my box of bolts won't start so I guess I won' be seein' ya tonight after all…uh…say hi to the rest of the guys…and - I - I think –k the powers gonna go here…kee-ps flickering…guess I-ll see ya later…"
As he hung up, the whole room breathed a tremendous sigh of relief…Vin was just at home – with no power…. Alone…but ok.
Message received, Friday 7th December, 2012 at 6:47pm
"Chris, me again – I'll see ya in an hour! –Ez is swinging past to get me in 5."
A/N – End of Part 1 – part two on the way. Please let me know if you enjoyed this – And if I had you fooled!