Bring On The Rain
disclaimer: The Mag7 characters belong to MGM, Trilogy and Mirisch.
Song and lyrics belong to Billy Montana/Helen Darling/JoDee Messina. No copyright infringement is intended with their use.
Another day has almost come and gone
Can't imagine what else could go wrong
Sometimes I'd like to hide away somewhere and lock the door
A single battle lost but not the war
I knew as soon as I saw the look on Chris' face that he didn't have anything good to tell us. His brow was creased, like it gets when he's both pissed and frustrated and his eyes were dancing between me and Buck like he was worried about how we were gonna handle whatever it was he had to tell us.
"What?" I asked outright. Sometimes, when the guys are feeling protective they try to break things to me gently. After the week I'd just had, I wanted Chris to just spit it out.
Chris hesitated and for a moment I almost panicked thinking someone was hurt or worse. They'd all been there with me, even within the last hour and yet things can happen so fast…I was just about to ask when Chris explained, "Robinson took a deal."
"Damn it." Buck stood up and glared, first at Chris, then at me and then out the window.
It took me a minute to process the information; I think my brain was working slower thanks to the concussion. I felt like I was thinking through a cloud but it finally clicked and I forced myself to nod acceptingly. What else could I do? The FBI were in control of this one, had been from the start. It was out of my hands.
"I'm sorry, JD," Chris was apologizing for something he had no fault in.
I waved him off. "Just get me out of here," I said, already pushing the blankets back. The hospital was the last place I wanted to be right then.
It took another hour to get the paperwork handled. It was 9pm by the time I could go. Buck helped me get dressed while we listened to Nathan rant about how stupid and foolhardy I was being. "The doctor wants you to stay for at least another 48 hours, JD." He waved his arms in the air as he paced along side the narrow bed. "You've only kept two meals down since you've been here."
Two broken ribs and a concussion and you'd have thought I was recovering from open-heart surgery or something the way he was going on. I glanced at him as Buck knelt to tie my shoes for me. I was already feeling incompetent and stupid enough. "I'm not staying here." The finality in my voice surprised me. Must have surprised them too 'cause when I looked at Buck he was just staring up at me.
Nathan opened his mouth to argue more but Chris has come in just as I had spoken and stopped him with a glare. "I sent Josiah, Ezra and Vin to the ranch to set up a room. You'll stay there."
I wanted to fight about it, but it was an order and I knew it. Nathan dropped it but I knew he was still angry. He was probably right too, but the truth was I just couldn't handle being gawked at by strangers all night long again. I'd been there two days already. I wanted out.
It hurt like hell to climb into Buck's truck. Hurt to do much of anything really, but I tried not to show it. I bombed that effort too; must have groaned or something because Buck helped. He got all gentle and soft-spoken on me. "Relax. Let me," he whispered and buckled my seatbelt for me. I closed my eyes and a few minutes later we were moving.
I must have relaxed enough to sleep 'cause when I opened my eyes again we were at Chris'.
Buck and Nathan both helped me from the truck. Ezra was there suddenly, umbrella in hand, holding it over us and getting soaked in the process. I hurt all over and was dizzy again. I leaned on Buck more than I wanted to but the few feet from the truck to the porch felt like a mile. It was warm inside and Vin had the couch ready for me if I wanted it, but I shook my head slightly and whispered, "bed." Buck's grip tightened around me, and Josiah appeared in place of Nathan.
"We got you, John," he murmured reassuringly and I think the two of them might have actually carried me to the bed but at least they made it look like I was walking on my own. Nathan was already in the room, puttering around. He'd adjusted the stack of pillows so I'd be able to lie at an angle that I could breathe in and had medication waiting for me. Buck helped me change into clean sweat and Josiah asked if there was anything I needed. I felt self conscious enough as they got me settled, the three of them looking at me, so I said "no" and prayed they'd just leave me alone.
"Light on or off?" Buck asked, stopping at the door. There was a new gaming magazine and my favorite Tom Clancy novel on the bed stand but I shook my head. "Off."
"Holler," Buck grinned as he flipped the switch but I saw the underlying anger in his eyes.
"Thanks, Buck," I whispered, trying to get comfortable. I knew the emotion wasn't directed at me.
It was peaceful in the darkness. Quiet save for the rain outside and the murmuring voices behind the doorway. Though I wanted to be alone, it was kind of comforting to know the guys were there for me when I needed them. I heard Buck's voice get louder but his words were indistinguishable. He was mad…we were all mad. They were probably worried too thanks to my 'I want to be alone' act. Usually, whenever I've been hurt before, I crave company and attention. This though was just one of those nights when I didn't want to deal with anyone.
I was pissed at myself, at the FBI and at Robinson. The whole damn case was doomed from the beginning. I wanted to forget about it, but it sat in my mind like a time bomb ticking down to disaster. That's how it'd ended up anyway for me…disaster.
It's started almost a week ago when the FBI had waltzed into the office like they owned the place. Ezra'd gone pale at the sight of them and was immediately defensive. At first we were all sure that whatever they wanted it concerned him. It didn't, they wanted me.
I was flattered in the beginning. I mean here I am, the kid of 'the magnificent seven' and the FBI wanted to borrow me for a case. Chris and Ezra both seemed hesitant and voiced their opinions, but the decision was all up to me. All I had to do was go undercover at a mail order place and gather information, both one on one and electronically from a Jay Robinson. Robinson worked there and was under suspicion for breaking several federal postal laws. Seemed like a piece of cake; I could fill out mail orders and send in information I was learning about Robinson to my contact—and it wasn't hard.
Robinson was even a fairly nice guy, all things considered. But what I didn't know and what the FBI failed to tell me was that Robinson was also suspected of being a contact for an organized crime family back east and was possibly using the mail order company to traffic illegal substances. A key piece of information in there that if shared with me in the briefing could have saved me a whole lot of trouble… "Back East."
It's not exactly a secret that I transferred to Team 7 from Boston where—hello? —I was in law enforcement. Locked up bad guys…fought against organized crime? Ding ding ding ding!!! I would have heard the warning bell but did the FBI? Nope.
Robinson, being the good lackey he was up to that point, reported his new working partner to his 'boss' who did enough research to put the two and two the FBI missed together. The result, well, you know that scene in 'The Princess Bride' when Miracle Max looks up at Fezzik and says "you are the brute squad?" I spent a few quality minutes with a one-man brute squad, and I swear he could have been Andre the Giant's long lost twin.
Ezra saved my tail. He heard through one of his contacts what was going down and brought in the Calvary. The FBI got Robinson and, as Chris had informed me earlier…he took a deal, less time if any at all for his information. I'd been played, and I'd walked right into it of my own free will. I supposed I should have felt somewhat satisfied that the heavy hitters (pun intended) were going down eventually. But it burned that I was just an unappreciated casualty in the grand scheme of things.
It's almost like the hard times circle round
A couple of drops and they all start coming down
Yeah, I might feel defeated
I might hang my head
I might be barely breathing—but I'm not dead
There was a light knock and the light turned on as I said, "come on in." It was Ezra. He had changed into dry clothes; it was always weird seeing him in sweatpants. He came over and sat in the big armchair to my right.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft. It made his accent sound thicker than usual.
"I'm okay." I started to shrug but caught myself. I grimaced when the pain hit and looked away.
"It's been a challenging week." Ezra shifted in the chair and I looked at him again, wondering how he could always look so…formal. I'd seen him slouched and comfortable only a few times.
"That's a word for it." I smiled faintly and watched the rain batter the window. I could hear thunder in the distance now. "Feels like crap, like this has been happening a lot lately." I'm not sure why I admitted that to Ez, he just has a way of…listening to me I guess.
He nodded slowly. In the last three weeks the team had been really taking the hits—(another pun…and Buck says I have no humor)! We'd finished up a long and trying gun-running case just to have the main suspect get off because of a paperwork mix up on the prosecutor's side of things. Then the Internal Affairs office had started bugging Ezra again which was why he'd reacted so visibly when the FBI showed up at the office.
"Have you heard anything more from Miss Wells?" The question was quiet and not pushy at all but it surprised me.
"How'd you?" I hadn't told anyone, not even Buck, that Casey was ticked off at me.
"Finely honed observation skills." Ezra smiled, the light reflected the mischief in his eyes.
I should have known of all people, he'd figure it out. "She didn't want me to take this case. Said it was only a dumb and risky effort to prove myself." I sighed wearily. My headache was getting bad again. "I guess she was right."
Ezra picked at the fabric on the arm of the chair. "Only if she added the reminder that there is no need for you to prove anything."
I didn't say anything; I mean I didn't know what to say. How could I explain what its like to be the youngest on the team? Being the kid? I always have someone looking out for me…someone protecting me and there are just times when I want to prove to them that I'm capable. I can do this job. Of course I usually end up screwing up royally. The FBI asking for me, specifically, had fed my ego. It wasn't like I didn't do the job either, I did exactly what I was told and did it well. Why was it I felt like such a supreme failure then? I realized that Ezra was watching me pretty closely now. Some days I can read him easy, not this time.
"It's frustrating," he said finally. "Feeling like no matter what you do, people are always going to view you a certain way."
I waited, wondering how he was able to say what I was thinking so clearly.
"Always the dirty agent," he said softly, meeting my gaze.
"Ezra, we don't see…" I tried to interrupt but he went on.
"Always the rookie kid."
It clicked then and I suppose that it showed on my face cause Ez smiled again. We don't see him as a dirty agent anymore than they see me as a rookie kid…not now. Not after three years of working, sweating, bleeding and laughing together. We trust each other, we're family and even if outsiders aren't beyond those labels…what matters is that we are.
"You get it now?" He pushed himself out of the chair and straightened his t-shirt the same way he would have if he'd been wearing a designer suit.
"Good." He left the light on when he went back into the other room
Nathan came in then to check on me. He asked me how I was feeling and I admitted reluctantly that my head was bothering me. He couldn't do anything about it seeing as it hadn't been that long since I'd taken medicine. I couldn't tell if he was still mad at me or not. That's the thing about Nathan, no matter how pissed off he gets at you when you're hurt and not doing what he thinks is best—it never stops him from taking care of you. Doesn't stop him from lecturing you most of the time either. He must have decided to spare me this time though because he got this look on his face like he was just winding up to start in and then shook his head a little like he'd changed his mind.
"Get some sleep," he ordered, knowing full well that the drugs were finally starting to pull me under anyway.
He flipped the light and the room was dark again. Leaving just me and my thoughts…the idea of sleep fled.
Ezra had managed to reassure me a little bit, at least as far as the team was concerned, but I admit I still felt like a fool for letting myself be used by the FBI that way. Part of me wondered if they had known there was the chance Robinson would end up ratting me out and had gone ahead with the operation anyway. I'm pretty sure Ezra thinks the same, after all he was the one who put out the word to his contacts to keep their ears open. Good thing he did too. I can admit to myself I needed rescuing about that time.
It's weird how when you find yourself in a bad situation you tend to react different then you thought you might. I'd been very well trained in hand to hand but I had no chance against old 'Andre'. He was almost two feet taller than me for one thing and he'd caught me off guard. Attacked me in the parking lot, how dumb is that? Vin would be proud of the few blows I did get in but it wasn't enough. I was on my way out of it by the time the others screeched in.
The big guy never expected them so he was caught as much off guard as I had been. Last thing I remember was his complete look of fear when Chris ordered him to get the hell away from me. I think I might have smiled if I'd have stayed conscious. I guess that's one positive thing to remember in all the crap of this case—I survived.
I'm not gonna let it get me down
I'm not gonna cry
And I'm not gonna lose any sleep tonight
I'd almost drifted off when I heard someone else come into the room. It was dark still and he didn't turn on the light but he didn't need to. I'd recognize that silhouette and walk anywhere. Buck didn't say anything at first, just dropped down into the armchair that Ezra had been sitting in earlier. He was still for a few minutes then in the shadows I saw him lean forward and put his face in his hands.
Just about the time I was debating about asking if he was okay, he leaned back again, slouched down and reached out. He put his hand on my upper arm. I didn't have a shirt on, and it felt hot there, touching my skin.
"You scared the hell out of me, JD," he said in that whispery voice he uses when he's real serious about something. I have a hard time when he talks that way, it means he's being honest and I could hear the emotion there, the worry and real fear for my safety. "Thought we weren't gonna get to you in time," he admitted.
Damn. I heard him swallow and knew I couldn't look at him. Even in the dark I'd see his blue eyes, intense and glistening probably I couldn't handle that. I'd held it together through everything so far including my rounds with 'Andre' but I knew if I saw the genuine feelings in Buck's eyes I'd fall apart.
"I'm proud of you, Kid. So proud."
Shit. I hadn't expected that. I felt my throat tighten. "For what?" I asked, barely even whispering.
He shifted and I heard him chuckle lightly. "For doing your job and being good at it. For facing each day with enthusiasm regardless of what kind of shit is flying at us at the moment." He sighed heavily and squeezed my arm affectionately. "For being tough enough to fight and smart enough to survive." His voice cracked. "For being you."
My eyes welled up but I swallowed back any tears—I was not going to cry, not tonight. Buck was proud of me. In those few words he'd just made everything okay. Oh I was still pissed at the FBI for jerking my chain and a little at myself for handing them the chain in the first place, but I'm a quick learner.
Lightning lit up the room suddenly, followed by a huge clap of thunder. Somebody in the other room yelped. It was pouring now but I didn't really care. I was done fretting over what had happened. It sucked all around and that was the truth of it but there was nothing I could do to change it. I was good at my job and Buck was right—no matter what kind of shit was coming at us, I liked what I was doing and I had a great family there to watch my back when I did start to screw up or get into trouble.
I knew that the next day I'd still be nauseous and dizzy and the broken ribs would still be there. Buck would hover and Nathan would nag. Ezra and Vin would probably get into some kind of trouble trying to entertain me. Chris and Josiah would cross their arms, roll their eyes and pretend like they were fed up when they were really trying not to laugh and through it all…I'd be okay. Maybe I'd even try to call Casey.
I fell asleep sometime after that, listening to Buck describe how Chris had gone off on the Special Agent in charge of my case…and then knocked him on his ass. I would have liked to see that I think. I slept without dreaming and when I woke up the next morning, it was still raining.
Tomorrow's another day
And I'm thirsty anyway
So bring on the rain.