Night fell outside the hospital windows, but Chris never noticed it as he kept his eyes focused on the man in the bed before him. The animals who'd done this to Vin were behind bars already, and as much as Chris wanted to go and dismantle them piece-by-piece, Buck'd left instructions not to let Larabee even in the front door of the police station. The person who'd hired the goons to destroy Vin hadn't been found yet, and Buck was working on that with two other detectives, though they had precious little to go on.
That left Chris with the most important job of all - being there for Vin.
Nathan was nearby, down the hall from Intensive Care, in the doctor's lounge. Chris wondered if he was staying after his shift to take of Vin - or to protect the staff from Larabee. He'd told Chris that if he caused so much as a speck of trouble staying with Vin in ICU, he'd remove him bodily. And Nathan was just big enough and strong enough to do that.
The hospital bed had been angled up, about halfway. Vin lay very still under the blankets pulled almost up to his chin. He had two IV's going through one electronic monitor on his left arm, and the monitor overhead kept a constant check on his heartbeat, breathing, and blood pressure. He only moved if Chris did, seeming to sense that his brother had moved from one side of the bed to the other, and after a few moments, he'd turn his head to face that way.
For now, with Nathan's threat hanging over him, Chris sat quietly, moving when the nurse asked, giving a hand when he was asked. The only thing he wouldn't do was leave the room entirely, or let the nurse pull the curtain between him and the bed. He wanted to see everything - every bruise, burn, welt, and laceration on Vin. He wanted to know everything - because when they found who was ultimately responsible for this, he was going to take it out of their hide.
Things had been quiet for awhile now, though. Chris stood and popped his spine to great relief and walked up to the edge of Vin's hospital bed. No doubt about it. Hospital furniture was the pits. By two am, his spine was definitely questioning the good sense of insisting on staying with Vin. It twinged if he moved this way, it spasmed if he moved that way. Just turning his head sent a stabbing pain across his shoulder blades. Hospital furniture was the pits.
No doubt about it.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the lights out at the nurse's station. Even the shadows didn't hide the brutality Vin'd endured. Compression gloves gently pressed the swelling out of his hands; painkillers, antibiotics, and electrolytes poured into his system through the overhead IV's; sheepskin covered the air mattress that relieved the pressure on his raw skin; bandages swathed him almost head to toe; and the catheter still drained too-small amounts of urine, dark and severely concentrated.
A few nights in a hospital chair didn't seem like too much to bear.
M7*M7*M7
My name is Vin Tanner. My name is Vin Tanner. Vincent Larabee Tanner. My parents are Jim and Sera Tanner. James and - what are they yelling at now? They're not coming in here are they? They're not coming back in here? Please God - don't let them. That was the door. The front door. They left didn't they. They'll be gone all night again, won't they? Damn stupid if they hadn't tied me to the bed if I could just get loose or untied or just one hand free it doesn't matter if I could just get one hand free before they come back I could try to run out again - no, somebody's still here. Damn stupid don't let it be that one - I don't want him to come back in here I don't want him to come back in here please God Mom somebody listening to me please please I don't want him to come back in here. He's got that stupid music on again, so maybe he's drinking again, maybe he'll get drunk again before he comes back in here again or maybe he'll pass out if he does come in here again and pass out before he - God please Mom don't let him do that anymore. Mom please Pop let Chris know where I am please God I don't want to be here anymore why are they doing this and I don't know what they're talking about and how stupid can they be if don't know who I am and they - is he coming back here? Where's he going? I can't hear him the damn stupid music is too loud damn damn Mom please God where's Chris? Pop please don't let him be coming back here...I can't - I don't hear him out there is that the doorknob? I can't get my hand free if I could just get one hand free damn that hurts so much why'd they tie it so tight I can t move my hands or my feet and it hurts so much I want it to stop hurting. Please just make it stop hurting. I can't move I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe please God Pop somebody Mom help me. Please Sarah please tell Chris where I am. Adam - no Adam I don't want you to see me like this, you're too little. You shouldn't see me like this. Please God Mom Sarah Adam Pop please it's so cold in here. Please I can't make them stop hurting me. I can't breathe it's so cold just let me get one hand untied please God that's all why can't I just get one hand untied please please please Mom Mom Mom where are you Mom? Please Mom where are you? I'm cold Mom, please Mom I'm cold. Don't let him come in here, don't let him hurt me anymore. Oh God please I can't take anymore please just let him kill me I can't take anymore please just kill me... My name is Vin Tanner. My brother's name is Chris Larabee. He's a police detective. His father was Christopher Larabee too. He was a police detective too. He drowned in the Niagara River trying to save a criminal who was trying to escape. Please God Pop tell me you wouldn't try to save these bastards Pop please. Make him turn off that stupid music no don't I can't stand the quiet he always comes in when it's quiet it's too loud and I can't think. My name is Vin Tanner. I live in Lockport. My name is Vin Tanner. My brother's name is Chris. My Dad is Jim and my mother is Sera. Chris' Dad was Chris and my Mom's name was - no please go the other way don't come here please God Mom Pop please Sarah make him go the other way no please - please God no please - let me get free I can't get my hand free - he's opening the door he's coming in - no God - please...no more...
M7*M7*M7
Nathan woke up a little before 3am. The couch in the doctors' lounge wasn't the best place to sleep, but he could tolerate it. He'd gotten used to worse during his residency. He got up to use the men's room, then walked down to see how Vin – and Chris – were doing. If Vin was still soundly asleep, as Nathan expected him to be, he'd send Chris home in no uncertain terms. Vin didn't need a babysitter, and the nursing staff didn't need a sleep-deprived Chris Larabee disrupting their morning routines.
He checked with the nurse first to see if there'd been any change good or bad – in either occupant of the room. Nothing remarkable, Chris wasn't causing any trouble and Vin was resting quietly. Nathan decided it was as good a time as any to send Larabee home.
Quiet hung over the ICU as Nathan made his way to Vin's room. He was within a few feet of it, when he heard voices. Chris' voice he could dully hear, giving calm reassuring answers to whatever it was Vin was croaking out. Silently stepping closer, Nathan watched from the door.
Vin was sitting up in bed, leaning forward over a pillow. With one hand, Chris gently rubbed Vin's back, the other hand held a wad of Kleenex under his mouth. Vin seemed to be gathering himself, and every few seconds he'd give out one short, barking cough, followed by a soft, extended whimper, and a few choked words.
"I know it hurts, I know it does." Chris whispered. "You're doing good, take your time." He patted Vin's back. "You're doing real good. That was a pretty bad dream that woke you up, hunh?" and Vin mumbled something that Nathan couldn't make out. "I know, things always seem worse in the dark don't they? Here, let me get fresh Kleenex¼there, take your time. Whenever you're ready¼"
And another few cycles of waiting, coughing, crying, and reassurances started up.
It seemed to be over when Chris set an emesis basin in place, gave Vin a drink of water with the direction "rinse and spit", then let him have a few long swallows of water after moVing the basin back to the overbed table.
"Let me help you lay back now¼" he started, but Vin interrupted with a rough sound that turned up at the end like a question. "You bet." Chris answered immediately, drawing both arms around Vin, and letting his injured, anxious brother lean into him. "It's easier to sleep sitting up sometimes¼keep your hands elevated¼" he lifted Vin's hands into place, resting against his arm. "I remember, I fell down my front stairs one winter, cracked three ribs. I couldn't sleep flat for a month¼"
There followed another few quiet, croaking questions.
"No, I'm just fine." Chris said, tightening the gentle hold he had on Vin. "Anything you need, you just let me know." He turned his head quickly, and seemed to be wiping a tear off on his shoulder. When he spoke again, his own voice was rough. "You don't have to thank me Vin, of course I'm going to stay with you. God Himself couldn't move me¼" and within a few moments, Vin visibly relaxed against Chris' support.
Still unnoticed, Nathan walked away from the room, and went back to the doctors' lounge.
M7*M7*M7
Chris hated hearing Vin cough. He'd had broken ribs in his life, and knew how bad breathing could hurt. Add to that every other bruised, bent, and generally broken part of Vin's anatomy, and coughing had to be agony.
First, he'd woken up wide-eyed and short of breath, chased out of sleep by a bad dream. That led to a coughing fit that Vin tried so hard to suppress, but Chris got him sitting up, with a pillow to support his ribs. Most of the swelling was gone from his hands, but Vin's fingers were still too numb to hold the Kleenex, so Chris held it for him. Being a parent, you got over being squeamish real fast. But he hated how much he could guess the coughing hurt Vin. He'd cough, then whimper, like a child in pain, who knew more pain was coming.
There was nothing Chris could do but tell him to hold on, keep trying, he was doing fine. He knew if Vin couldn't cough productively, they'd have to suction him and Nathan had described that as a rather unpleasant experience.
He'd kept on hand on Vin's back, not wanting to break physical contact with him. Generally, in what used to be normal life, since Vin had become an adult, neither man initiated or accepted much physical contact. They didn't shy away from it - handshake, pat on the back, help getting back up if they had a football game going amongst the seven of them.
Pain though, physical or - especially - emotional, generally resulted in extreme non-contact.
But this sure wasn't "normal" life, was it?
He could tell Vin was wearing out, the coughs and whimpers were growing weaker, and he was trembling under Chris' hand. Finally, there were no more coughs, and he waited a minute until Vin's breathing evened out. Then he helped him rinse his mouth and drink some water. He thought Vin would want to lie back into the pillows, but he heard a soft, raspy "stay here?" and he pulled Vin tighter, almost without thinking.
So now, in the darkened room in ICU, Vin slept heavily in Chris' arms, his head resting right at the joint of Chris' arm and shoulder. The nurses had managed to wash and comb Vin's hair without needing to cut out too many obstinate tangles, and they'd washed the rest of him too, which must've felt wonderful to him. He smelled of antiseptic now - also a definite improvement.
What Chris treasured most though, was the feel of Vin's heartbeat against his arm, and the rise and fall of his deep, steady breathing. And just the weight and warmth of him in his arms.
Two weeks of hell for Chris finally ended when Vin stretched a little bit, and took a deep breath. He lifted his head just enough to peer around the room, and then, with an obviously contented sigh, settled his head back on Chris' shoulder and went back to sleep.
M7*M7*M7
Damn it hurt. Every time he coughed, it felt like somebody was whacking him on the back of the head, and shoving a knife into his ribs. As much as he wanted to take a really deep breath and cough it all out at once, Vin couldn't stand the pain that each small cough caused him. Even more, he couldn't stand his own soft cries of pain that seemed part and parcel of each cough. If Chris wasn't standing right there, supporting him physically and otherwise, he wouldn't have the strength to cough at all.
He kept track of Chris by keeping track of Chris' hands. One on his back, sliding back and forth but never completely losing contact. The other one held the Kleenex that he was coughing into, not a job that Vin would ever volunteer for. He kept his arms tight around the pillow that Chris had given him to support his ribs. The room seemed dark, but he wasn't seeing too well anyway lately. If it was morning or evening or whatever time it was, didn't matter to Vin as long as Chris was there.
Finally it felt like he'd coughed all that he needed to. After a few moments of waiting, Chris asked if that was it and Vin nodded, not lifting his head. The hand on his back didn't move, but the one in front exchanged the Kleenex for a plastic bowl, then held a cup of water to his mouth, and Chris said something about spitting. Why would Chris want him to spit? It took a slow moment to figure it out, and a couple more to actually accomplish the deed.
All Vin wanted was to shut his eyes again and sleep. It didn't keep the dreams away, but it gave him a break from the overwhelming physical pain. The dreams scared him, but even in the dreams, he knew Chris was right there in real life, and Chris would protect him.
He felt the cup nudging at his lips again and now Chris was telling him to drink, which he did gratefully. It was cold water and enough of it to satisfy him for the moment. Then Chris was saying something about laying back down and Vin didn't want to lay down. The dreams scared him and the dreams were when he was laying down. He asked Chris "stay here?" though it didn't sound like that, even to his own ears.
Even as he said it though, he felt Chris' arms tighten around him, and Vin settled into the support even more gratefully than he'd taken the water. But then he wondered, maybe it was midnight, maybe Chris'd been awake all day and night and was just as tired as he was. "You...tired?" he asked Chris, and Chris whispered reassurances to him. Then the most important question "Won't leave?"
Whatever Chris answered verbally, Vin felt the answer he was looking for in the warm strength that surrounded him, the arms that supported him, and the heart beating under his ear.
Vin went fast to sleep.