Seacouver General Hospital
Buck was pacing miserably from one end of the room to the other. Josiah and JD lay in their hospital beds simply wishing they were allowed to pace along side of him.
"Buck, I give you my solemn word that I will not leave this room. Go check on Ezra," Josiah urged for the third time.
"Me too," JD crossed his heart.
"They said they'd call once he was out of surgery," Buck growled and paced some more.
Duncan MacLeod slipped into the room and sighed. Worried to death the three of them. "Compliments of the nursing staff," Mac said holding out a tray containing milk cartons. "They said you would not be needing caffeine."
"Aw Hell, Junior," Buck stopped pacing and wiped an errant tear off his cheek.
"You think Chris has found him yet?" JD asked faintly as he took a carton of milk off the tray.
"No telling, son," Josiah answered smiling faintly as he remembered how Vin nurtured the team the time Buck got hurt just after the Texan had joined them. Does a body good. You sure do son, now hurry back.
"ATF Team 7?" a perky young aide peeked in the room.
"That's us darlin'," Buck smiled faintly. Pretty little thing.
"Dr. Bearheart said to tell you that Ezra Standish is in recovery," she flashed a coy smile toward JD.
"Go on Buck, you know Ezra's going to worry," JD urged.
Nodding Wilmington darted out the door then came back to the aide. "Darlin' where is surgical recovery in this hospital?" he asked sheepishly.
"Third floor, it's marked well but you have to ring in," she warned as Wilmington took off once more.
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"Standish?" Buck asked as he approached the nurse's station.
"You are, sir?" A gentle-faced, matronly looking nurse asked kindly.
"Wilmington, Buck Wilmington."
"Mr. Standish keeps asking for you." The nurse smiled in relief. "He's very agitated, perhaps you can settle him for us?"
"Sure Evelyn," Buck agreed as he checked out the name on her tag.
"Right this way, Mr. Wilmington," Evelyn Garfield buzzed the door open.
"Ez, lay down you've just had surgery," Buck growled, hurrying over and gently lowering the Southerner back down.
"Vin?" Ezra asked faintly.
"No news yet," Buck admitted. Dragging a chair over with his foot he sat down holding Ezra's hand calmly.
Mother Hen, only Buck could be so natural at holding another man's hand. Ezra thought sleepily. Squeezing Buck's fingers gently he dozed back off.
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"Buck?" Ezra asked groggily.
"They're just moving you to your room," Buck soothed.
"Vin?" Ezra asked once more.
"Ezra, I want you to wake up, alright?" Buck urged.
"You have my attention," Ezra drawled drowsily.
"Vin's coming in on a chopper now. I don't know how serious. JD and Josiah have been admitted," Buck listed.
"Chris will need you," Ezra's eyes revealed his growing alertness.
"I don't want to leave you alone, pard," Buck looked torn. "Would it be alright if MacLeod stays with you until I can work something out?"
"The dark haired Scotsman?" Ezra questioned.
"Yeah," Buck waited patiently.
"Keep me informed," Ezra ordered. "Buck, take care of my brothers."
"Sure will. Now go back to sleep," Wilmington gently tucked the conman in.
"He gets chilled easy," Buck warned MacLeod. "And he can be combative if he gets scared."
"I'll take care of this one. Do not forget to tell JD and Josiah what is going on." Duncan reminded.
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Buck arrived in emergency in time to see Vin wheeled past. Is he dead? Buck's heart plummeted to his feet as the far too still body was taken into an examination room. Wilmington waited for the chopper medic to take care of business before he tried to question the man.
"How bad is he?" Buck asked sharply.
"I'm not able to give you that kind of information," the medic turned. Looking up at the distraught man he hesitated. "He's alive. They've got some damn fine doctors here."
Buck took a deep breath and sighed. "Chris Larabee, Nathan Jackson? he asked softly as another gurney rolled by. This one was rolled in at a sedate pace. Benson's dead then. Good riddance to bad rubbish. But where's Chris and Nate?
"We didn't have room on the chopper for them. They did know where we were coming," the medic assured him. "Tanner's stats were strong."
Buck looked slightly more relaxed. Poor Nate, Chris is going to be a powder keg.
"Better get some security on Tanner. They were trying to kill him out there," the medic reported.
"Benson's out of the picture now," Buck growled.
"Tanner was shot by a sniper after Benson was dead," the medic revealed.
"SHIT! Can't we get a break," Wilmington huffed.
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Dragon's Nest
Chris finished talking to Sheriff Blackhawk and sighed. "Looks like we're hanging out here until the forensic team arrives. We can get a ride back with their driver.
"Means I have to walk back down this mountain?" Nathan asked miserably.
"Afraid so," Chris said. Not like Nate to complain. Hell, he's in the best shape of any of us except maybe Vin.
Grumbling Nathan made his way over to a convenient rock ledge and sat down on a large flattened section. Carefully he worked the laces on his boots loose and toed off the boot. Grunting the medic gingerly peeled the sock off and stared at the foot.
"Shit," Chris growled looking at the damage. "Nate?"
"Wet boots," Nathan grunted. "Believe it or not I never felt it until that chopper took off." Jackson stared at the blisters and places rubbed bloody.
"Is the other one this bad?" Adam asked calmly. Kneeling down he began to unlace the other boot.
"Yeah," Nathan muttered.
Pierson began to sort through Nathan's medical kit setting out items he thought would be needed.
"You act like you know what you're doing." Chris remarked.
"I'm a licensed doctor several times over." Adam smirked.
Nathan pulled back his barefoot when Pierson's examination proved to be painful. "Yeah, in what century?"
"Medicine is a fairly new interest. I first practiced in the 12th century," Adam chuckled grabbing the foot once more. "I don't believe it will be necessary to bleed you."
Nathan's eyes widened.
"Actually modern doctors could learn quite a bit if they'd study some of the medical treaties of the Middle East and China of that period. Of course Europe was hopelessly backward. I spent a great deal of time in the far east back then. A bath when your born and another when you die," Adam shuddered theatrically. "The only dependable measure of civilization is the effectiveness of their plumbing."
"There now, all done. Get that seen to as soon as possible. That will be one roasting chicken or a wheel of cheese," Adam grinned as he looked up. "For further remuneration I will have my man here carry you down the hill. Pierson indicated the scowling Connor MacLeod.
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Ellison stared down at the still body of the sniper. He looks familiar, shouldn't be hard finding out who this one was. Must not have missed after all. Jim leaned closer to examine the dead man's neck. Doesn't make sense that shot should have severed the spinal cord.
"Jim, forensics is here. We can get a ride back to the truck with the deputy that brought them out. Tanner has been taken to Seacouver General. I figure the rest of the team will show up there," Blair reported.
"Let's go," Ellison started down the rock ledge to the waiting truck.
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Seacouver General Hospital
While Jackson was having his feet treated, Chris made contact with Buck.
"Junior is in surgery, Pard. That's all I can tell you," Buck answered the unasked question. "He was breathing on his own when he went up." That's a good sign isn't it? If his brains were scrambled too bad he wouldn't be able to breath. What the hell do I know?
"Gentlemen I'll rejoin you shortly. I need to clean up if possible," Adam indicated his bloodstained clothing. I have something that needs to be taken care of.
"I could use some washing as well," Connor smiled warmly.
"Vin's in surgery," Chris reported. "No updates yet."
"Let's check on the rest of them on the way to the waiting room then," Nathan suggested.
"If you don't mind we would like to join you there," Pierson asked.
"I'm not good company," Chris warned.
"No one can be good company without a bar," Adam sniffed.
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"Looks so damn innocent when he's stoned doesn't he, Chris?" Jackson muttered looking in the door at the sleeping Standish. Duncan MacLeod nodded a greeting from his chair in the corner.
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"Chris," JD sat up immediately. Josiah smiled in relief as his team mates appeared then frowned at Nathan's condition.
"Wet boots, I've got blisters," Nathan admitted sheepishly.
"Didn't you learn anything in the army, son. Always carry extra socks," Josiah chuckled.
"They're in the lake," Nate snapped.
"Vin?" JD interrupted.
"Surgery, we haven't heard anything yet. I promise to let you know as soon as we hear anything," Chris cut off the questions. "Do you need anything before we head up to the waiting room?"
"No, we're fine aren't we John Daniel," Josiah assured them.
"Chris?" Buck studied the other man and relaxed a bit. "Think I'll hang out here for awhile." Chris is a lot calmer than I expected.
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Seacouver General Hospital Morgue
"Connor if you would be so kind as to distract the staff please. I'll take care of this bit of unfinished business," Adam said calmly.
"It will be no trouble at all," Connor slipped off. Soon the Highlander was ranting at the desk. Demanding to know what they had done with his poor Uncle Oscar.
Methos smiled faintly and slipped by the harried staff and into the quiet room. I've timed it just right.
A groan filled the air and a still body jerked and gasped. Slowly Benson sat up and looked around in disbelief, unaware of the shadow standing at his back.
"There can be only one and it won't be you," Methos smoothly slipped the scalpel in and severed the newly born immortal's spine. Neatly the erstwhile surgeon decapitated the body. You'll not be coming back to terrorize any more children. Grasping the edge of the autopsy table in his clenched hands Methos rode out the small quickening. Hardly more than an electric failure. Not even a broken window. Pocketing the scalpel the oldest immortal crept from the room unseen and made his way over to Connor.
"Willie calm down now. Uncle Oscar is over at the Veterans Hospital not here. I just spoke to Aunt Aggie." Methos soothed patting Connor's shoulder.
"Veterans? Oh I'm terribly sorry to have made such a scene," Connor flushed and hurried down the hall with Methos lecturing him on being a hothead every step of the way.
Once out of earshot Connor hissed in Gaelic. "You took his head?"
"Yes, I took his head. Not enough quickening to light a lightbulb," Methos snorted.
"Let's go keep watch on the pack then," Connor suggested.
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Waiting Room
"You're Chris Larabee?, a slender silvering haired man in scrubs entered the waiting room.
"Yes," Chris answered faintly. Oh God, Cowboy.
"Mr. Tanner is out of surgery and on his way to recovery. I understand it would be best if you sit with him," the doctor reassured Chris.
Larabee nodded with a sigh of relief.
"If you'd like to come with me I'll give you a rundown on his surgery and the prognosis on his recovery," the doctor's dark eyes revealed his exhaustion.
"Nate, come on," Larabee gently woke Jackson before he moved the wheel chair.
"What?" Nate straightened.
"Vin's out of surgery," Chris explained. "Doc here is gonna fill us in."
The three men entered a private conference room.
"Calm down, Gentlemen. I just need the light board here to show you some x-rays." the doctor calmed the men. Little conference rooms were not conducive to good news.
"Since you hold Mr. Tanner's medical power of attorney, I can go over his case with you. This other gentlemen on the other hand." the doctor hesitated.
"Nathan Jackson, Vin's physician and teammate. He's my medical translator so you can go ahead and tell us. I'm going to be telling the rest of the team anyway," Chris growled.
"Very well. Sorry, I never introduced myself, Amos Simpson," the doctor held out his hand.
"How bad?" Chris demanded.
"He's alive, which is frankly impossible. This boy is going to be held up as an example of why you never give up on a patient. I'm going to start at his feet and work my way up. He has several stress fractures in the bones of both feet as well as some deep bruising but those should heal well. The left ankle is broken here." The doctor put an x-ray film on the board and indicated the spot. "The right ankle is sprained but we didn't find any fractures. This is Mr. Tanner's thigh." Simpson put another x-ray film up on the light board. "See this, the rod in his leg is bent. Don't ask me how, this kind of thing just doesn't happen. We had to remove it. The original damage had healed so well we didn't replace it. We had to remove this section of bone in order to remove the rod. We then replaced that section and pinned it. The leg will be in traction for the next ten to twelve weeks. Legs break but a metal rod does not bend. The manufacturer is going to want the rod to do some testing. That kid is just one big bruise. The bullet's force must have almost been spent when it struck his abdomen. There was amazingly little damage although he is missing a few inches of intestine. The leakage into his abdomen was minimal, it should clear up fairly easily. Four fractured ribs." the doctor glossed over the less traumatic injury. "Quite a bit of muscle and ligament damage to his right arm and shoulder. I'd say the shoulder was out of joint at some point. You'd think someone almost pulled it off. Some severe bruising of the right wrist and forearm." Doctor Simpson took a deep breath and changed the x-rays on the board. "This is the real issue."
"Oh shit," Nathan hissed leaning forward he used his finger to trace the bullets trajectory on the x-rays of Vin's head. From behind the left ear to where a dark lump rested above his left eye.
Better that he died then to be a vegetable. Vin wouldn't want that. Chris's shoulders slumped. "What's that dark area?" Larabee indicated a dark section of skull.
"At some point Mr. Tanner suffered a severe head injury and a metal plate was used during the reconstruction," Dr. Simpson answered. Simpson put another film up on the board. Sitting back the doctor grinned.
"What am I looking at?" Chris growled.
"That gentlemen is a genuine miracle," Dr. Simpson said sincerely. "It's what you're not looking at," Simpson laughed. "There is no bullet path through the brain. The bullet entered here above and behind the left ear. It struck the plate a glancing blow, then penetrated the skull here. It circled the inside of his skull and became lodged in the sinus cavity above his left eye. There is nothing to indicate the brain was damaged beyond some minor swelling consistent with a mid-level concussion. He's going to have a headache you wouldn't believe, probably for several weeks, the neurosurgeon didn't foresee any lasting problems. I'd suggest that Mr. Tanner buys a lottery ticket with the kind of luck he has. Do you have any questions?" Simpson asked.
"His brain scans?" Nathan asked faintly.
"This is a normal brain scan, this is Mr. Tanner's. I'm not sure what's going on in there but something sure is," Amos Simpson looked fascinated.
"You need to be aware Vin does get migraines," Nathan warned.
"Duly noted," Simpson scribbled on his note pad. "Gentlemen do be aware that it will be months even perhaps as much as a year before Mr. Tanner is fully recovered.
Chris nodded seriously. "You are aware that Vin was having vision trouble before he was shot in the head?"
"Yes the specialist believes that it is a temporary problem brought about by an earlier concussion. Now can I ask a question?" Simpson asked. "What happened to that boy?"
"Today's injuries started when he fell out of an airplane," Nathan answered softly.
"You're kidding?" Simpson's eyes widened.
"1,500 feet and no parachute . . . ," Nathan settled back to tell the story of their day.
"Can I sit with Vin?" Chris interrupted.
"Certainly, they're expecting you," Simpson answered distractedly.