Part 10
In the three subsequent weeks Vin could only clearly recall about five full days. The persistent, debilitating headaches finally ebbed in the passing of time but his vision did not improve. Light didn't hurt as much now, but he still found the most physical comfort in a curtained room.
His condition belied his usual nature. Although Vin was content to rest the first few weeks to keep the headaches to a dull roar, after that, his usual wanderlust made him restless.
Vin was going stir crazy. Today started his third day in a row waking up somewhat painless; his sleep was still disturbed, wracked with vague and riotous images, but a slice of bright warmth on his face told him the sun was up. He was in the habit now of keeping his eyes shut to avoid any light, and as he stood by the window in his bedroom he could hear the stirrings of a new day's routine outside – cars leaving for work, children's voices as they walked to school and the various doors slamming in his building as people left for the day. And for once, the noises did not spark a headache.
His apartment was quiet. Martin finally had to return to New York nearly a week ago with plans to return very soon. Plans for Christmas were still in the air for the brothers – skiing was definitely out of the question.
Vin snorted at the thought. A lot of things would be out of the question if things didn't improve. Before he could depress himself any more, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. The ringer had been turned off for days now as it always made his head pound.
"Yeah?" he answered with a growl.
"Sounds like someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this mornin'," Buck teased.
While Martin was staying with Vin, the team had checked in morning and evening. Now that Vin was alone, they stopped by at least three times a day and now that he was somewhat mobile, he was becoming irritated with the attention.
"The occupational therapist is coming by at one. It's ten thirty now," Buck reminded him. "Nathan said he'd come by a little before."
"I don't need no fuckin' babysitter," Vin snapped, rubbing his temple.
"Now let's not start up with that, Junior, we want you back as soon as you're able. Give the therapist a chance."
Vin didn't bother to reply. Instead, he worked to quell the growing anger and hopefully, the stabbing pain.
"Vin? You there, buddy?"
"Ummm," he mumbled noncommittally. He massaged his head and wandered around the room.
"One o' clock. Nathan'll be by before. Okay? You hearin' me?"
"Yeah, yeah. One o'clock."
"I'll see ya after word, pard."
Vin just hung up and then dropped the phone on the bed with an aggravated sigh. Shuffling his way back to the window, he could tell he was close by the cold that emanated through the glass. Once there, he gently pressed the flat of his palm on the frigid surface. He clenched his other fist in disgust. Vin Tanner was not used to feeling useless, and that's exactly how he'd felt for the last two days.
Responding to a drive from deep within, Vin pushed off the window and carefully made his way through his apartment, collecting his boots and winter coat along the way. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, pausing in the doorway and suddenly feeling very – naked.
Vin shifted, leaning heavily on the door knob and cursing his hesitance. Finally, with a muttered expletive, stepped into the hallway.
Chris Larabee rolled his pen between his fingers and tired to concentrate on the papers in front of him. He'd overheard Buck's conversation – if you could call it that – with Vin, and since then, was feeling unsettled. As the minutes ticked by the more the feeling grew that something was wrong. Eventually, the unsettling feeling made him push to his feet.
"Nathan!" he called as he slowly paced a short track behind his desk.
Jackson poked his head in a few seconds later. "You hollered?"
Chris stopped, rapping the pen against his thigh, his forehead furrowed in thought.
Nathan stepped inside the office and crossed his arms. "Chris?"
Chris tilted his head, not really looking at his team member. "Get on over to Vin's now, okay?" Only then did he raise his eyes to Nathan's. "Just you, as planned. I don't want to crowd him. Call if you need us."
"Okay, then. Guess I'm outta here to face the wrath of Vin."
"He won't be that mad, will he?" JD said. "I mean, he's gotta learn to get around until his eyes get better."
"I'm sure he knows that, too, but you know Vin. He's probably feeing a little trapped by now."
Buck snorted. "A little? If it weren't for the sensitivity to light I have no doubt he'd be out an' about by now. He's been on his feet for what, two days now?"
Nathan shrugged on his coat. "Barely that. I'll grab some lunch for the two of us on the way over."
The cold of the parking garage stung Nathan's nose as he hurried to his car. He called a deli a few blocks away so he wouldn't have to wait for the meal. After stopping and getting the food, he continued on to Purgatorio and maneuvered into the first spot he saw near Vin's apartment building. When he stepped to the sidewalk, he had to do a little dance to keep his feet on the ice.
"Whoa!" he breathed, windmilling his arms for a moment. Once balanced, he grabbed the deli bag and locked up the car.
Nathan carefully made his way down the sidewalk, up the few stairs and entered the building. The first thing he noticed once he closed the door behind him was that the lobby wasn't much warmer than the outside. The second thing he noticed was Vin sitting on the inside stairs, his head dipped low. There were new holes in his jeans and his knees were scraped and bloody and when Nathan got closer, he saw raw marks on the palms of his hands, too.
Nathan approached carefully. Vin didn't move.
"Vin?" Nathan said, stopping within a foot of the man. "You okay?"
"'M fine," he replied softly.
Nathan was itching to inspect the damage but knew better than to start poking at his teammate without warning.
"Let me look at – "
The sharpshooter's body stiffened immediately, and then he started to rise. "I said I'm fine." Vin winced visibly when his jeans slid over damaged knees and he groped for the stairwell rail.
"Oh, no you don't," Nathan said when he saw the rail wiggle loosely when Vin grabbed it. "That rail's not safe." He snared Vin's forearm as he turned and lurched sideways. "I take it the elevator's still busted?" The medic made sure Vin was tucked snugly at his side before they ascended the steps and noticed that he didn't put up any resistance.
"I guess."
"You haven't checked?"
"I haven't heard it in two days."
Nathan was about to stop and check the elevator himself, but realized that Vin had probably been listening to all the building noises for the past few days; there was little else for him to do since the radio or television antagonized his headaches.
"Oh." They advanced a few steps. "Slipped on the ice?" As Nathan held his arm the dampness of his sleeves was obvious. Vin didn't reply. "The therapist'll teach you how to get around safely so it won't happen again."
"Why?" Vin growled.
Nathan frowned. "Why what?"
"Why do I need to learn to get around? I can't do nothin' and I can get around in my place just fine."
They made it to the first landing. Nathan turned him to the next flight.
"This is temporary, Vin. In the meanwhile, you don't need to get hurt worse and you need to learn how to take care of yourself." Again, silence answered his comment. "Unless you like us comin' by everyday . . ."
"Fine. I'll play nice."
That was too easy, Nathan thought. He tilted his head asked and looked Vin over more closely. The tense lines of pain around his eyes were a little deeper and the sooty bags under his eyes were more prevalent. The colorful bruising had mostly faded leaving behind unusually pale skin.
"Are you sleeping?"
Vin's lips pressed harder together.
"Restful sleep will help you heal faster. I can get something for you . . ."
"No."
When the reached the next landing, Vin's breathing was stressed. They didn't talk until the next landing.
"What's in the bag?" Vin asked out of the blue.
Nathan glanced at the deli bag in his other hand, realizing Vin heard the paper rustling. "Lunch."
"Roast beef?"
Nathan sniffed the air. "You can smell that?"
Vin snorted, his breathing still labored. "Smellin' and hearin's about all I do lately."
"Oh."
Once they were in his apartment and Vin started to warm up, his palms and knees began to bleed. It took some nagging and a little arguing for Vin to allow Nathan to clean him up and wrap his wounds. They weren't serious, but Nathan had no doubt the areas stung. Vin never admitted to it.
In fact, he didn't say much of anything. Nathan began to wish he had a little of the odd connection Chris had with the man. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the thoughts that simmered in Tanner's head right now.
He wished Martin hadn't left.
Vin ate enough of the sandwich to satisfy his guest and then retired to the sofa when he couldn't hide the headache pain anymore. Nathan'd just finished picking up the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. He saw Vin cringe.
"I'll get it."
Dropping the dish towel he moved to the door and looked through the peep hole and then unlocked the door. When he opened it, a petite Latina woman with a large gym bag slung over one shoulder smiled at him. "Vincent Tanner?" she asked.
"Over there." Nathan waved at the sofa and stood aside. The small woman thanked him and stepped inside.
She walked around and stood in front of Vin. "Hi. I'm Florencia. Before we start, I need to know your level of pain." She dropped the bag on the floor. Vin twitched. "Hm. A little sensitive to sudden noises, I see."
By the tilt of Vin's head and the tightness he could see in his profile, Nathan knew this wasn't starting out well. He couldn't tell if it was anger or fear he was seeing.
"I'll be showing you how to get around safely and then how to take care of yourself and this place. Do you want to start here or in your bedroom?"
Nathan saw Vin flush red.
"Um . . ." Florencia's steady gazed moved to Nathan as the medic gathered his coat. "Ah . . . I have some things to do . . . somewhere else. Buck'll be checkin' on you later, okay Vin?"
Nathan felt like a coward as he slipped from the apartment. The panicked look on Vin's face stuck with him all the way back to the office.
WATM7WATM7WATM7
Martin hobbled piteously across the icy New York sidewalk after paying for the cab, praying he'd make it to the Federal building lobby without embarrassing himself. He wasn't sure if the cane was a help or a hindrance, but it was sure better than crutches. Once inside, he let out a short sigh of relief and limped through security on his way to the bank of elevators.
Nearly four weeks had passed since he'd sprained his ankle and Martin was annoyed at how painful it still was. His doctor said bad sprains like his took longer than a break to heal – Martin didn't believe him at first, but now he wondered.
"Hey, gimpy." Danny's cocky voice made him grin. "Here, let me get that for you."
"I think I can manage pushing a button," Martin grumbled as Danny leaned over and punched the elevator button.
Martin leaned on the cane to relieve pressure on his throbbing ankle.
"So how's your first week back going? You riding the desk for awhile?"
"I'm keeping busy. Not sure how much longer I'm grounded. It still hurts a bit."
The silver doors rang open and the pair stepped inside with a few others.
"How's Vin?"
Martin shrugged, the mention of his brother causing his worry to rise. "Last time I talked to him he was pretty miserable."
"Too bad," Danny sympathized. "You really going back again?"
Martin nodded, waiting for a few people to exit the car before speaking again. "It's hard to explain. I miss him – it's like I'm disconnected or something. It's weird."
"What you two have is definitely weird," Danny laughed, causing Martin to grin. "Why don't you get him to come back here for awhile? Think you're mom'd like that? I mean, it sounded like she'd like to get to know him. Am I wrong?"
The door swooshed open again for the next floor but Martin didn't really notice the exiting passengers as he considered Danny's suggestion. He thought of Vin in that apartment of his, alone, and toyed with the idea. "Oh, yeah. There's that Victor factor," he reminded himself. "But he's in DC until Christmas and mom's at the house here for the holidays . . . alone . . . hmmm."
"You know, that's not a bad idea." Martin bobbed his head. "Won't be easy sell it to Vin, though. He's pretty independent."
"You mean stubborn? Well, there's a surprise." Danny rolled his eyes.
Martin ignored him. The doors opened again and Danny nudged him forward. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because I'm the brains of the bunch, Marty old boy."
It took a few seconds for that to sink in. "You're the brains? Where does that leave me?"
"Well, it's obvious to anyone that I'm the brains, Samantha's the beauty, Viv's the soul and Jack's the boss so that would make you the comic relief."
Martin lifted his cane to whack Danny's leg but the agent skittered out of range. "Or the sidekick. You can pick!" He chuckled and ducked into the bullpen.
"Sidekick my ass," Martin muttered, limping in Danny's wake. "More like asskicker. Yeah, that's it. I'm the asskicker of the team. The Enforcer – that's it." Satisfied, he shoved into the office.
To Be Continued