Dah's note: Everyone knows what a WTH moment it was when Mel got Cyrus freed from jail within like five minutes on August 10th, 2009, lol. I can't find a good recap on this but I got it in my head that it had to do with the Chicago syndicate. If I'm wrong, I accept all blame. I just wanted to write Cyrus fic.

Buzz remembers clearly the pain he felt the day Coop died-- even before he was told, he recalls a dull ache in his chest. He thinks that was when the accident happened-- that, while Phillip dragged his dying son from his car, he was sitting in the back of Company, holding his hand over his heart and pleading mentally to whomever maybe listening for it not to be another heart attack-- not again, not now, not ever... then the call about Coop came in. He never doubted that sensation again, shocked and weirded out to find that what he had initially thought was people being dramatic WASN'T, that such a connection with one's children was possible-- that, even miles apart, a parent could feel as their child was mortally injured-- sense as the connection between the two began to fade, leaving one to flounder alone forever after.

When he feels something similar to it for the second time in his life on October 23rd, 2009, fear clings to him and he's diving for the phone, raising worried questions and exclamations from the customers around him. He dials Frank's number, sagging in pained relief to find his son's ok. Harley's next, then Daisy, Marina. A quick call to England tells him that Rocky's ok and he slumps over the bar, uncertain.

The pain's still there, still echoing throughout his ribcage and he's horrified but there's--... Cyrus. He feels horrible for forgetting. He dials Jenna's son's number and shakes his head when he gets the man's voicemail. Cyrus never ever let his phone go unanswered-- especially when he knows it's Buzz calling. "No, no," he groans, jerking when his phone rings in his hands, tightly gripped in the trembling fists. "Hello?!" he answers blindly, too keyed up to check the ID.

"Buzz?" Lillian asks and there's something in her voice that makes him feel faint. He's not surprised when she says, "It's Cyrus."

He's at the hospital within minutes, relieved that the place is across the street from Company-- he forgives the place for years of having to listen to ambulance sirens that have reaked havoc on his hearing-- and Lillian is hugging him fiercely. "How is he?"

"Touch and go," she explains in a strained whisper. "He's in surgery."

Buzz shakes his head, having hung up on her before she could explain further earlier. "What happened?"

She guides him over to a chair and pushes him to sit down, running her hands over his arms. "He was found in an alleyway. He was beaten up... and, um, shot. In the chest, just below his heart. It... it caused his lung to collapse. They're working on him now, Buzz. He's-- he's in good hands," she promises but he thinks it's empty words-- nothing against Lillian but the same had been said about Coop not even a year ago.

He scrubs at his face and looks down at his hands, surprised to find moisture beading on his skin.

"Oh, baby," Lillian breathes against his skin, hugging him once more and wiping the tears away with a gentle touch. "I'm so sorry."

Jenna, why does this keep happening? he thinks bitterly, not bothering to fight the pained tears determined to trickle down his face.

The surgery takes hours-- years, decades-- and Buzz is about to lose hope when finally, finally a doctor approaches him, obviously directed by Lillian who to go to. A vicious part of Buzz is relieved to find the doctor is not Rick-- as much as he likes the younger Dr. Bauer, he can't forget that both Gus and Coop's surgeries were handled by him, and well, look how those ended up-- but he brushes it aside, standing up to greet the man. "How is he?" he demands, his hands fluttering. He wants a cigarette, despite everyone from Lillian to Marina begging him to quit. The only one to ever not bug me about it is Cyrus, he thinks before keying back in to the doctor's explanation.

"He's doing as well as can be expected," the man hedges, a look of reluctance in his deep blue eyes. "We removed the bullet, reinflated his lung. He's a lucky man, if he had been found even a few minutes later, it might've been too late."

Buzz shakes his head, ears ringing with this knowledge. "He's a fighter," he says distantly, fingers clenching. If they ever find the people who did this... I'll make sure they never see the light of day again, he thinks viciously, tears pooling in his eyes again. "Can I see him?"

"In a minute," the doctor says, raising a hand to stop the older man. "I feel the need to warn you-- he crashed on the table. We managed to resuscitate him but he's very weak. We had to put him on a ventilator."

Buzz pales, flashing back to another son who crashed and never came back. "How long was he... gone?" he whispers, not wanting to face this decision again-- brain death, another brilliant mind snuffed out way too soon by senseless tragedy.

"Not very long," the doctor says. "Thirty seconds, at most. Like you said, the man's a fighter."

He relaxes minutely before again saying, "I need to see him."

"Of course," the doctor nods, leading the way down the hall to a room on the corner, very close to the nurse's desk. Buzz is relieved for this-- help would be nearby if Cyrus should require it. "Make sure to ask for me by name-- Dr. Williamson-- if you need anything or have questions, I'll come as soon as I can," he says, attracting the eldest Cooper's gaze from the wooden door keeping him from seeing Cyrus.

"Thank you," he says distantly, watching as the doctor leaves. He takes another moment to brace himself before entering the room. Memories hit him at a rapid rate-- Coop laying in a bed, looking still and lifeless, with a tube down his throat; Buzz standing over him, watching helplessly as he slips away; cursing everyone from Beth to Alan to himself as his last connection to Jenna-- his son, his light, his creative boy-- leaves him.

Cyrus, to be fair, isn't anyone's light-- his own tarnished, led by a life of desperation and greed, ages ago, but there's something about the guy that Buzz can't help but like. He thinks it's the bit of Cyrus that is like Jenna-- despite his conman ways, he had never set out to hurt people, somewhere down deep had a good heart, bore all of his past and present transgressions like a trophy of pain and censure-- Alexandria, Marina, Harley, Cassie, Lizzie, even Buzz himself probably, despite his attempts at making up for it all with varying degrees of success.

He swallows and settles in next to the bed, hand hovering hesitantly over Cyrus', not wanting to cause him further pain. Lillian hadn't been kidding, the bandages spanning his chest wasn't bad enough-- there was a bandage across the kid's forehead, a black eye already forming. His knuckles are scraped and Buzz can't help but smile a little-- Put up a fight, did we?-- before he sees the cuts up and down the parts of Cyrus' tanned arms that's not covered in bandages. A dull knife, he thinks, tentatively tracing the thin marks with a shaking hand. Whoever did this is a monster. He's relieved that the sheets cover the rest of Cyrus-- he doesn't want to see anything else, thinks he may explode just by what he can't look away from right now.

He's about to kick over the trash can or something as equally as stupid when he hears a soft, pained gasp from behind him. He turns and spots Mel standing in the doorway, a hand curled around her mouth as she stares at Cyrus, tears streaming down her face. He grimaces and moves to her side, easing her into the room. "He'll be ok," he assures her, tries to convince himself. "You'll see."

"This is my fault," she chokes, her hands clenching around the fabric of his sleeve. "Oh God." She looks near collapse so he guides her to his chair and helps her sit down.

"How is this your fault?"

"I-- I was at the police station," she breathes. "Frank told me-- told me the FBI took over the investigation. It, it looks like the Chicago syndicate had something to do with this."

Buzz's knees suddenly feel rubbery too. "Oh, Christ," he groans, seeing why she said that now. To get Cyrus free from his charges, the woman had pulled some strings-- Cyrus had testified in a case that led to some of the top dogs of the syndicate being arrested in exchange for his freedom because one of Mel's other clients didn't want to be a target. Obviously, the syndicate had figured it out and taken a hit out on Cyrus.

"This is all my fault," she sobs, tears turning into barely understandable words as Buzz massages her shoulders. "What do we do now? What if they come after him again?" She runs a hand gently over his knuckles, the tender touch of a lover. "I'm so sorry, Cyrus. So, so sorry."

"He won't blame you, Mel. None of us thought they'd come after him," Buzz breathes, trying to keep himself together. More, more senseless violence. Will it ever end?

-------

Mel's left to compose herself, get some sleep and a shower, maybe some food and check on Leah, when Buzz finally settles in next to Cyrus' bed once more. In lieu of the discoveries, there's a plains clothed officer outside of the room and more security on the hospital than Buzz can count. "You'd be amused," he tells the sleeping man. "Frank's actually working to protect you... Well, I think it's because he knows I won't leave here until you're good to go again, but yeah... it's still a little funny."

Cyrus doesn't respond and Buzz sighs, finding himself examining the young man once more. At first glance, all Buzz could think was that Cyrus and Coop looked very little alike but here, now, with his past melding with the present, he thinks they do... the structure of their faces are similar, the way their eyes flutter in their sleep. There's a kind of vulnerability that Buzz thinks all of Jenna's kids must inherit, however they chose to use it. It obviously helps Cyrus with his cons-- and helped Coop to charm almost the whole town, and his many readers and students, into loving him, except for Alan, of course.

He shakes his head, taking in a deep breath. There are other resemblances of course, like the glint in Cyrus' eyes whenever he realizes something new, or Mel looks at him like a woman who's falling in love does. It reminds Buzz of both Coop and Jenna and, where at one time, it would've been painful, he finds himself embracing it more and more-- embracing Cyrus more and more, flaws and all.

He doesn't know who Cyrus' father is, the few papers they located doesn't state it, but Cyrus didn't seem to care, claiming that if the man hasn't bothered up to now to look for him, he's good with what he has right now-- a statement that left Buzz feeling warm and content.

He sighs and settles back in his chair, tiredness hugging him like a close friend. His eyes slip close against his will as he almost melts into the uncomfortable, ugly piece of furniture.

Only minutes seem to have passed when Buzz wakes up with a jerk, eyes widening at the coughing sound filling the air. He gazes blurrily, uncomprehendingly, down at a curling up Cyrus as he struggles to breathe against the tube and Buzz shakes his head, quickly regaining his faculties. "Cyrus! CYRUS!" He pushes the man back down on the bed, rubbing a hand against his cheek, careful to dodge the cuts and bruises scattered across his stubble. "Calm down, please listen to me, calm down." Miraculously, the man listens and eases back, his eyes still wide and horrified but not as desperate as they once were, as he recognizes Buzz. "There you go," he murmurs, pressing the call button.

The nurse that comes in a few minutes later makes quick work of the ventilator, leaving Cyrus fighting around the painful burning in his throat as she checks his vitals and Buzz waits with a glass of ice chips, desperate to ease some of the pain on Jenna's son's face. "Here ya go," he whispers gently, slipping one of them into his mouth.

Cyrus sighs as the soothing coolness trickles down his throat, making the pain drift away bit by bit. "Grady," he moans, turning away from Buzz with a grimace.

"What?" Buzz asks uncomprehendingly.

"Sa-- saw Grady," he croaks out again, trembling subtly. "He... my... he's dead," he whispers, a tear dripping down his cheek.

Buzz gapes.

--------

They don't discuss what Cyrus said directly after waking up again, time taken up by discussing the future-- what to do just in case the Chicago syndicate is still after him. Cyrus is all for leaving right now, and Buzz thinks if he was stronger than a newborn kitten at the moment he'd be gone already, desperate to keep the Coopers and Boudreaus safe.

"I don't want you to go," Buzz says wearily when Cyrus asks for one good reason for him to stay.

Cyrus' lips thin as he looks away, pain both mental and physical still obvious on his peaked face. Buzz thinks he's trying as hard as Buzz himself to not cry right this moment.

------

He's been out of surgery almost 24 hours before Mel visits, her hands trembling as she holds his. "I'm sorry," she says faintly.

"It's not your fault," he says, staring at her intensely. "This is my life-- everything I've done up to now has led me here-- it all falls on me, not you. Never you." He strokes her face tenderly, smiling as she kisses his still sensitive knuckles as they pass over her lips.

"Will you leave?"

"I don't think I have a choice," he breathes, his lungs expanding painfully. "I don't want to cause the Coopers further pain-- or you."

She shakes her head, her dark eyes gleaming in the pale morning light. "What if it hurts us more by your leaving?"

He has no good answer for this.

--------

Two days later, it's happenstance that Buzz and Mel arrive at the hospital at the same time. Cyrus is healing nicely, his breathing almost back to normal. Even his face is clearing up, the bruises and cuts fading. Williamson had said if he continues on in this way, he'd be released in a day or two more. "Hey, Mel," Buzz greets the attorney with a smile as she holds the door open for him.

"Hi, Buzz. How are you?"

"I'm good." The small talk continues as they head down the hallway, both eager to see Cyrus. Mel notices it first and stops, the smile slipping off her face. "What's wrong?" Buzz looks up at the empty room before them and pales. "Where's he at?"

Mel immediately turns and catches a nurse's eye. "Excuse me, where is Cyrus Foley?"

The nurse frowns. "He signed out AMA a couple hours ago," she says, shifting some papers around in her arms. "Dr. Williamson didn't want him to leave just yet but he insisted."

Mel looks dumbstruck as Buzz slaps an open fist against the wall, anger and pain warring with betrayal in his gut. "He's gone."

---------

Buzz returns to Company, feet drifting lazily against the concrete as he tries to think about life without Cyrus-- his heart feels as crushed as Mel looked. Truth be told, he had always liked Cyrus and could never figure it out-- no matter what the guy did, Buzz couldn't stay mad at him. Of course, knowing he was Jenna's explained a lot of it but yet... there was more, he was just charming and if it hadn't been for his desperate, lonely childhood, Buzz thinks Cyrus would've turned out alright.

"I'm SIXTY ONE years old," he stresses to the guy, huffing after Cyrus suggests they walk thirteen blocks in New York in AUGUST.

Cyrus' laugh is liquid and smooth, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight, as he gently claps Buzz on the back. "You'll be fine," he encourages. Cyrus had, of course, made sure of that.

"Jenna," Buzz mutters. "I'm so sorry... I'm failing all of your sons..."

"Yeh've not failed any of us," a familiar, heavily accented voice greets him and he jerks, looking up.

"Cyrus!" he yells, finding the beaten up man sitting on his porch steps, looking exhausted and a little pale. "You idiot, you scared m- Mel to death!"

He looks chagrined at this and sighs, his gaze dropping to the steps. "I'll call her in a little bit. I... meant to leave, but I just couldn't-- without saying goodbye." He looks so uncertain that Buzz forces himself to relax bit by bit, his fists unclenching.

"You're not leaving," the Cooper patriach says stubbornly, curling a hand across Cyrus' upper arm and easing him off the uncomfortable steps. His anger fades somewhat as he feels how the man's trembling. "Come inside."

"I--" Cyrus mutters, but finds himself inside before he can protest any further.

"Sit," Buzz orders, pulling out a chair from a nearby table and, feeling distinctly railroaded, Cyrus complies, head swimming with the sudden happenings. A glass of water drops in front of him and he gazes at it thoughtfully for a moment before his dazed brain catches up with everything and encourages him to drink it, feeling minuscule better afterwards.

"I can't stay," he says with a good portion of his own stubbornness. "I'll get you all killed. The Chicago syndicate--"

"The Chicago syndicate," Buzz interrupts angrily, slamming a towel down on his bar, "shot you. Beat you up. Trust me, I know. I'm still looking at the results of what they did." His eyes are flashing in anger as they scope out Cyrus' face and arms, taking in the discoloration.

Cyrus flushes as Buzz looks him over like he thinks an angry father would've. "So you see why I can't stay," he mutters, trying to look away from that gaze.

"Bull," Buzz grounds out. "You're staying. I have connections, Frank has connections-- hell, Mel and Harley have connections. We'll figure this out. It'll be fine."

Cyrus sighs and looks away. "I-- I don't know what to say," he says, his accent thickening like Jenna's used to when she was close to tears.

"Just say you'll stay. That's good enough for me."

He looks back over at the man who's slowly become a father figure to him and nods distantly. "Fine. I'll stay. At the first sign of trouble, though..."

Buzz nods, smiling faintly. "It'll work out. It will."

Cyrus swallows and looks down, trying to blink the tears away. "I hope so." He's surprised when Buzz's arm drops across his shoulders, easing him over into a half hug, tentative and careful, not wanting to hurt him further. He leans into the touch and raises his good arm, hugging Buzz back uncertainly. He's not sure how long this'll work out but he hopes that it lasts a long time.

Despite his years of cutting and running at the first hint of trouble, he's just found all of this and he's really not ready to leave his family, his home, Mel, just yet.