Chris was on his way to the kitchen when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi Chris. It's Vin…"

"Hey – how're you doing?" It briefly crossed Larabee's mind that something must be wrong; this was the first time in the six or seven months they'd known each other that Vin had ever telephoned him.

"I'm okay. Just wondering – umm…I was gonna go out to dinner and a movie? Wondered maybe if you might want to go?" He sounded hesitant and awkward. "Nothing special y'know. Just McDonald's and the Dollar Theatre down on Hertel…?"

"Tonight? Oh – I'm sorry. I can't. I've got a stack of work to go through before tomorrow morning. Maybe we could do something this weekend?"

"Oh sure. Yeah. That's okay. I know it was just – spur of the moment kinda thing. Last minute." He spoke fast and sounded disappointed.

"Well, I'll talk to you before this weekend then, and we'll work something out. How's that?"

"That's fine. That's okay." Then there was silence for a moment. "Well, I'll see you then. Bye."

Vin hung up the phone and sat in his old saggy sofa to put his head in his hands. Stupid, stupid, stupid. God he was so stupid. Why'd he ever call? Chris was just gonna hate him now, think he was stupid, tongue-tied and annoying. Shoulda just never called and just left everything the way it was. Stupid. Just leave it that they saw each other when they saw each other and not try to change that. Sure, Chris had given him his phone number, but that didn't mean he ever meant Vin to call him. Stupid to think they were any kind of friends. They were just – people who knew each other. God. Larabee had so many friends – he didn't need anymore. Didn't want anymore. He sounded annoyed on the phone. Probably got him in the middle of dinner. Stupid stupid stupid. Vin hated himself for being so stupid.

M7*M7*M7

Late that afternoon, Chris flashed his ID to the uniform at the barroom door and was let inside. Past the mild destruction of one splintered bar stool and a couple of smashed beer glasses, he saw Vin sitting on the floor against the far wall, alone. He had a bloody towel pressed against his head over his right eye. Another uniform and two bar patrons stood nearby, talking. Chris approached them and showed his ID again. "Any consideration you could show him would be greatly appreciated." He said, gesturing to Vin.

"Not me." The policeman said, and pointed to one of the patrons. "It's Detective Magaris here your friend had the disagreement with."

"Detective?" Chris turned to him. "Some way we can make this disappear?" He saw the detective studying his ID, then studying him.

"Don't see why not." The other man shrugged. "Hurt himself worse than he did any other real damage. Not worth the paperwork."

"I appreciate it." Chris put away the ID and went to crouch beside Vin. "Something you'd like to tell me?" he asked.

"Head hurts." Vin slurred without looking up.

"No kidding. You mess with a cop, you get your head laid open." He tugged Vin's hand and the towel full of ice away to get a look at the laceration and bruise forming on Vin's head.

"Didn't know he was a cop." Vin said. "Wouldn't a'messed with him. My great-uncle Jim was a cop…I know better'n mess with cops…"

"Think you can get yourself out to my car and I'll take you home?" Chris asked, and Vin nodded. "Okay." He stood and addressed the bartender. "You let me know later if we need to settle anything up?"

"Don't worry about it…" Mike waved him off. "Had worse on a quiet night…"

"Thanks…come on." Chris helped Vin to his feet none too gently. "Let's get you outta here." Vin wavered a bit, then got his feet moving in the right direction. Chris didn't help him, but kept an eye on him until he was safely stowed in the front seat of his car. "You should go to a hospital." He told Vin, but Tanner shook his head, wincing at the sensation it caused in his brain.

"Just take me home?"

Chris agreed but didn't like it. He pulled to a stop in front of the house where Vin had a garage apartment. Still holding the towel of ice against his head, Vin didn't even notice. "You should go to a hospital." Chris said again.

"Got no insurance." Vin finally admitted. He looked up and saw where they were, but still made no move to get out. "How'd you know what happened?"

"Mike called me. The bartender?" Chris explained to Vin's puzzled look.

"Oh – sorry. Know y'had that work. Didn't ask him to call you." He folded and refolded the towel, trying to hide the blood.

"Let me take you to the County Medical Center." Chris said. "Even if you don't have insurance, they'll take care of you."

"No they don't." Vin spat out. "They don't take care a'people got no insurance. You sit there while they take care a'people got insurance. And you sit there while they take care a'people got Medicaid and SSI and people can pay for themselves. You sit there and sit there. You sit there and get sicker and you sit there until you die and they still don't take care a'you."

Then he slammed the car door open and then closed again and stormed off toward the stairs that led to his apartment over the garage. Chris watched him go, and pulled out his cell phone to make a call. When that was done, he followed Vin and easily caught up with him as he stopped to shake the cobwebs out of his brain again before starting up the stairs.

"Vin?" and he saw Tanner flinch, but he didn't turn around. "Your Grandpa died sitting in the hospital waiting room?" he asked gently.

"No, not exactly. We came in, he was just dizzy and couldn't move his arm. Sat there for hours, couldn't get nobody would take a look at him. That day they mostly got drug addicts and drunk drivers. He just kept getting worse. We was there nearly nine hours. Time they got to us, Grandpa was unconscious and never woke up again. Put him on life supports and such. Watched him waste away…"

"They shouldn't have neglected him that way." Chris said. "That was wrong, that was criminal." Vin only shrugged. "Come on Vin – Nathan's brother-in-law is a doctor, he'll have a look at you."

Vin turned then and Chris could see him weighing the possibility. "He'll let me pay him a little at a time?" he asked.

"Yeah he will." Chris sort of lied. He knew the doctor wouldn't be charging Vin at all, but this wasn't the time to bring that up. "Come on."

M7*M7*M7

It was a short drive down the expressway and through the business section of a nice neighborhood. Chris led Vin into the Medical Arts building and down a hallway into an office.

"Hi." Chris greeted the receptionist. "Vin Tanner to see Dr. Imala. We're a last minute appointment."

The receptionist took his name and handed over some paperwork to fill out and said she'd call Vin's name when it was his turn. They took a seat in the empty waiting room and Chris watched Vin arduously fill out his forms. His handwriting was hesitant and awkward but he got through. Chris inwardly winced when Vin got to a section that asked the health or age of death of his family members. No one had lived past sixty five and most hadn't made it to fifty. "Father" he left blank, and under "cause of death" for Mother, he wrote "gunshot".

Vin either didn't notice that Chris was reading his form, or he didn't care. He kept at it and had just finished when the nurse called him. He got up to follow her back. Chris stayed in his chair and pondered everything he'd read on the Vin's medical history.

M7*M7*M7

Not quite an hour later, Vin reappeared, following Dr. Imala back to the waiting room. He had a wide white square of adhesive over his right eye.

"Chris Larabee! How are you?" Chris stood up and they shook hands. The doctor was tall and looked very much like his sister Rain.

"I'm good. How's Vin?"

"Not too much damage. No concussion. It bled freely but not to worry. A couple of stitches were all that were needed. I told Vin I want to see him back in a week, or sooner if he gets blurry or double vision, or headaches. Otherwise, everything looks fine." Chris thanked him, and Vin thanked him, and they headed back to the parking lot. Vin got in the passenger seat, and Chris got behind the wheel, but he didn't start the car.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"Tell you what?"

"That it's your birthday."

Vin looked plainly surprised, and plainly turned over in his mind how Chris might know that. It didn't take too long for it to hit him. Reading over his paperwork over his shoulder. He didn't answer.

"That's why you were going to dinner and movie, isn't it? Today's your birthday."

"So?"

"So why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you a'gone with me, if I told you?" Vin asked.

"Of course."

"That's why I didn't tell you. Just wanted you to go 'cause you wanted to go. Not 'cause you felt like you had to or anything."

"So instead you picked a fight with an off-duty police detective." Chris said. Vin didn't say anything for a few long moments.

"Would you just take me home?" he asked quietly. "I'm sorry you had t'come out anyway, when you got work to do. I didn't mean for that to happen."

"You should've told me." But Chris started the car and drove back to Vin's neighborhood.

They were stopped at a red light, in view of Vin's block when he asked Chris:

"You know what it's like to know nobody else alive on the earth knows it's your birthday? What it's like to sit and watch your Grandpa dying on your birthday 'cause neither of you is worth somebody else's time? I just wanted you to go, to go. Just 'cause you thought I'se worth it."

"Of course you're worth it Vin." The light changed and Chris drove through the intersection. He didn't want to stop at Vin's place because he was afraid Vin would just get out and run away from him. So, he didn't stop. He kept driving. "Yeah, if I'd known it was your birthday, I would've gone with. Not because I thought I had to, but because you ARE worth it, worth making the time to celebrate…Vin?" when he got no answer.

"What?" he sounded startled. "Where are y'goin'? I live back there." As though Chris didn't know.

"Taking you to my place. You can get cleaned up there, have some dinner -."

"Don't want dinner."

" – and we can make some plans to go out this weekend."

"Just take me home." Vin was beginning to sound desperate.

"Why? So you can sit alone in your apartment, surrounded by everything bad that's ever happened to you?"

"No – so I can remember the last time my Grandpa ever wished me Happy Birthday."

That just about did Chris in. He had to swallow several times before he could speak again.

"Come home with me Vin. Mary's holding dinner, and she'll be glad to see you."

"What about all the work you gotta do?"

"It can wait. I'd rather celebrate your birthday."

Vin tried – he looked and listened and tried his hardest to find any trace of deceit or sarcasm or pity in Chris' words. But he didn't find any.

"You mean it."

"Of course I mean it…" Chris sounded surprised. "What d'you say? Am I worth spending your birthday with?" and Vin stared at him a minute, completely taken off guard by the question.

"Yeah." He couldn't figure out what was going on. But just this once, he wasn't going to question it. "You're worth it."

"Okay then. Let's go have some dinner."

They were halfway to Chris' house, when they got stopped at another red light. "Hey…" Chris turned to Vin. "Happy Birthday."

The End