Saturday night, maybe Sunday morning. The first night Mom and Jim were on their honeymoon. Chris was left in charge of Vin, the first time he'd been given such a prolonged, important responsibility. Jim's absence bothered Vin, although he seemed happy enough to be spending time with Chris. They'd stayed up late, watching movies and eating leftover cake, but the evening was punctuated with fearful

"When's our Mom and Dad coming home?"

Finally, Vin fell asleep on his end of the sofa, and Chris carried the six year old to his new bed, in his new room, in their new house. He left the hall light on, he left the night light on, he left both doors open, made sure every door in the house and every window on the first floor was locked, and checked Vin three times before he laid himself down in his own bed, in his new room, in the new house.

Now, in the middle of the night, Chris woke with a sense that something wasn't right. He opened his eyes but stayed still, listening for whatever sound must've woke him up.

It didn't take long for him to pick it out – at the side of his bed he heard soft breathing and he looked over to see a small, shivering bundle wrapped tight in a worn beloved "Indian blanket", sleeping on the cold tile floor.

Chris reached down and easily scooped the small body into bed. Vin mumbled something that was no doubt "Dad?" and blinked his eyes open in the darkness. Chris repositioned himself in the bed, made sure Vin was safe and tucked in under the extra blanket he pulled over him.

"You know you gotta wake me up Vin. You shouldn't be sleeping on the cold floor. You can sleep with me if you're scared." Vin kept his body stiff and unmoving, as if afraid to touch or be touched by Chris. He didn't answer.

"Okay?" Chris prompted, and received a hesitant answer.

"Okay."

A few nights later. The same instinctive uneasiness woke Chris up, this time to see Vin standing at the side of the bed, shifting from one foot to the other. He carried his blanket and his pillow in his arms.

"You wanna sleep with me?" Chris asked, sleepily. It took a few moments, but finally the little head nodded. When Chris lifted the blankets, Vin awkwardly climbed in, and kept his distance. Chris helped him get his blanket and pillow situated, and they each fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

A few night's later. A light, but insistent tapping on his arm – and a much too cheerful voice - woke Chris up.

"Chris? Chris? Can I sleep in with you?? Chris?"

Barely opening his eyes, and too tired to move over, Chris lifted his blanket and felt Vin climb in. He didn't have a blanket or pillow with him this time, and he very easily accepted the narrow space Chris gave him, having no trouble falling asleep with his head on Chris' arm.

A few mornings later. The last morning of Jim and Sera's honeymoon. Daylight filled the bedroom, and Chris awoke with a hot dampness pressed against his back. He only had to shift slightly to realize that Vin was all but draped over him, one arm over Chris' back and his head resting on Chris' shoulder. The room was hot, and Chris could feel the sweat where Vin slept against him.

"You got enough room there Vin?" Chris asked quietly. He was pushed nearly to the edge of the mattress. "Wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable or anything¼"

A whiny voice answered him.

"Chriiiiiiis¼stop talking. I can't sleep."

"Okay. I'm sorry." Chris couldn't help laughing as he patted the little hand resting on his arm. "You go back to sleep¼" and the little hand moved to take hold of Chris' fingers, and the little body seemed to grow heavier as he slipped back into sleep.

"¼'kay¼"

M7*M7*M7

Somewhere, at the edge of his awareness, as he dozed lightly in the uncomfortable chair, Chris heard an almost continual stream of ringing phones, and a continual round of differing voices saying:

"We're not allowed to release that information¼"

"¼and are you family? Well then we're not allowed to¼"

"Any information that the family has authorized to be released¼"

The last straw for Chris though, was when he heard one enterprising nurse state firmly:

"Well, considering I have caller ID on my phone Mr. Stephens - 878-5601, I'd recommend you be very careful what you say to me¼"

Chris pulled himself from sleep, pushed himself up from the chair, and went out to the nurses' desk.

"Are all those calls about my brother?"

It took him a minute or so to get his eyes to focus out of sleep; even then, he couldn't read her nametag.

"Most of them are. Reporters mostly. A few idle curiosity-seekers. I believe we are 'wired for sound' though."

Chris had no idea what she meant, and it must've showed on his face.

"The police are bugging our lines, in case any really interesting calls come through¼"

"Oh yeah." Chris sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. The ICU phones were tapped in case the head bad guy behind this little nightmare decided to make a call. It wasn't unheard of. The phone rang again. The nurse eyed the caller ID and gave an exasperated sigh. That made Chris angry.

"Well, if anybody calls who you haven't personally set eyes on this evening, you can tell 'em for me that if they're so damned interested in knowing how Vin is doing, I'll personally see to it they get dragged over the same shiny spikes of hell, so they can lay in a hospital bed not knowing who they are or where they are, half dead and in a million pieces. And if that's not freaking good enough for them I can use their guts for the gallows I hope they hang themselves on."

He was furious, and the nurse smiled at him as she picked up the phone.

"My sentiments exactly Detective Larabee."

That calmed him down somewhat, and he went back into Vin's cubicle as one more reporter was dealt with. Josiah had gone home a little while before, and the room was dim. Chris had no sooner set himself back into the hard chair, than he heard Vin give a short whimper. He waited a second to see if it repeated, and when it did, Chris went to stand next to the bed.

The nurses came in at regular intervals to reposition Vin, trying to keep prolonged pressure off of any particular part of his body. The hospital bed was still angled up, and at the moment, Vin was on his left side, curled close to the bed rail. He whimpered again, and Chris began to make out what he was saying.

"¼Mommy¼?" he called very softly, and it broke Chris' heart to hear it. Vin had never called Sera 'mommy', so he was gone even farther back than he had been before. Chris lowered the rail and sat on the edge of the mattress.

"Vin?"

He laid a gentle hand on Vin's shoulder, wondering – if he had escaped back to early childhood – if Vin would even recognize him. His fingers trailed down and he could feel the steady pulse at Vin's neck.

"Are you awake?"

"¼Mommy¼?" his thin voice a little more desperate this time, Vin's eyes opened to the relative darkness, and then turned up to the touch and the voice next to him.

"I'm here Vin. I'm here to take care of you." Chris watched for any sign of recognition. "Did you have a bad dream?"

He tried to gauge what age or frame of mind he might be dealing with exactly, and prayed that Vin would surface just as quickly from it as he had before.

"I don't feel good." Vin sounded close to crying – and still very young.

"How don't you feel good Vin?"

Though Chris doubted he'd be able to narrow it down, even if he'd been alert and oriented. He remembered similar conversations with Adam, and he moved his hand slightly to softly stroke the back of his fingers across Vin's forehead. Vin had a deep bruise on his right cheekbone that encompassed his whole eye and poked blunt fingers into his hairline.

He only repeated, "I don't feel good¼"

"Do you think you're gonna throw up?" Chris asked, but Vin shook his head.

"I just don't feel good¼" He turned back into his pillow, and pulled his hands up to his chest. Chris kept stroking his face.

"Just feel sad, hunh?" and Vin nodded. Chris couldn't help a sigh. "So do I¼"

Vin turned back to him, and the little boy that Chris remembered very well asked,

"How come you're sad?"

"Because you don't feel good, and I don't know how to help you." Chris answered honestly. Vin shook his head.

"You shouldn't feel sad Chris." He still sounded young and far away, but at least he was recognizing his brother.

"No, sometimes it's okay to feel sad. Especially when sad things happen."

Vin thought about that a minute, and nodded.

"Can I sleep in with you tonight Chris? I don't feel good."

"You bet you can sleep in with me." Chris agreed readily. "But how 'bout I stay here with you, so you don't have to move anywhere? I think you must be pretty tired."

"Yeah¼"

Vin dropped his head down and blinked a few times but didn't close his eyes. Chris waited a few minutes, moving his hand again to lightly press his fingers into Vin's hair and massage small circles. He had a vague memory of that soothing Vin to sleep when he really was a child. Now though, Vin seemed to be fighting sleep.

"Close your eyes Vin, try to get some rest. No – you don't have to sleep if you don't want to¼" Chris added when Vin shook his head. "Just close your eyes and get some rest. I'll stay right here with you. Okay?"

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart." Chris smiled down at Vin. The pain and fear and exhaustion he saw in Vin's face filled him with so many emotions of his own. But his own pain and fear and exhaustion were completely overridden by the twin strings of gratitude and tenderness that wrapped firmly around his heart. Vin was alive, and even lost in disorientation, he was still Chris' baby brother.

Chris leaned forward and gently placed a kiss on the only intact inch of skin on Vin's forehead. As he sat back, he was rewarded with an unsteady but very definite smile.

"You close your eyes." He repeated, his voice warm with affection. "Get some rest. I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

Vin closed his eyes, even before he nodded, and he held the smile until he finally but quickly drifted off to sleep. It was then that Chris became aware that someone stood in the doorway. He turned to see the nurse he'd been talking with before.

She folded her arms over her chest and walked over to the bed.

"Well, I came in here looking for the man who was going to use 'guts for gallows'¼but I guess this must be the wrong room?" She grinned at Chris, who found himself speechless, though not from embarrassment. "He's very lucky to have you for a brother." She said.

"Naah¼" Chris shook his head. "I'm the lucky one."

To be continued