Buck looked up as Josiah and Nathan returned and glanced at the bed to be sure Dunne was sleeping.

"Is everything okay?" Sanchez asked.

"I think so, Josiah, kid's dealing with enough guilt without me making it worse."

"You talked?" Jackson observed.

"We did…he knows I don't blame him, but I did warn him there could be times when I get angry because of what was done to Chris and to him," Wilmington offered.

"I'm glad to hear that, Buck, because JD thought you'd hold this against him," Sanchez said.

"I know and I did…right up until I looked in here and saw how much this has cost him. He needs to know we're behind him and I know Chris would kick my ass to hell and back if he thought I was making a jerk of myself. Look, he's sleeping and I want to go see Chris…"

"All right," Jackson said and looked around. "Where's Ezra?"

"I left him at his place, but I made sure he had his phone and that he wouldn't do anything more strenuous than going to the bathroom," Wilmington assured him.

"And you believed him?" the medic asked.

"I checked…there were no poker games written in his little black book," the rogue explained.

"Don't worry, Nate, I'll check on him on my way into the office," Sanchez said.

"Thanks, Josiah. Nate tell JD I'll be back to check on him later," Wilmington said before leaving the room. He made his way toward the SICU and wasn't surprised to find Vin Tanner already there. "Thought you were heading for your room?"

"Tanner, remember my threat about those dull needles?" Roy Simmons asked with a hint of angry impatience.

"Hell, Doc, I got bored sittin in my room twiddlin' my thumbs," the Texan griped.

"Maybe I could schedule a few invasive tests like a colonoscopy," the grizzled physician snapped.

"Shit…"

"That's the right end, Tanner…"

"Better…go…"

"Hey, Chris, how do ya feel?"

"Like stir fried shit," Larabee answered and saw the smile on Tanner's face.

"Now you know how he feels so get back to your own room before you fall on your ass and break that delicate behind of yours," Simmons ordered.

"Hell, Doc…"

"Better do as he says, Vin, he's got that look in his eyes and I'd hate to be on your end…no pun intended," Wilmington said with a slight smile.

"I'll be back later, Chris," Tanner said.

"Much later, Tanner, or I'll be glad to do that colonoscopy myself," Simmons said and turned to his other patient. "Stir fried shit…that's a new one, but an apt description of your coloring right now."

"Thanks, Simmons, just borrowed it from Vin," Larabee said as the man checked his eyes and the various tubes and leads. "When can I lose some of these?"

"You've only just had surgery on your leg and the drains in your abdomen still have blood in them so I'd say it'll be at least 12 to 24 hours before we can entertain the idea of losing your accessories," Simmons answered and leaned on the bedrail. "Now, Larabee, how do you feel and none of that crap about being fine."

"Hell, Doc, he told you he felt like stir fried shit and I'm thinking that's just how he looks too."

"Thanks, Buck, you're all heart," Larabee managed.

"Any pain?" Simmons asked.

"No," the blond answered.

"Good, now why don't you go on back to sleep…"

"Seems like that's all I've been doing," Larabee griped.

"Believe me that's a good thing right now because once we ease off on the heavy drugs you'll be bitching…"

"No, I don't think so," the blond said and sighed tiredly before closing his eyes.

"Wilmington, go flirt with the nurses and let him sleep," Simmons ordered.

"Ah, Hell, Doc, I haven't been flirting with the nurses…"

"Damn, it must be snowing outside," the physician said and turned to the nurse. "Jenny, let me know if his temp doesn't come down."

"I will, Doctor," Jenny Glover answered.

"If Tanner shows up here again tell him I found my supply of needles and restraints," Simmons said before hurrying out of the room.

"I wonder what rock his folks found him under," Wilmington said.

"Dr. Simmons may be gruff, but he knows what he's doing," the nurse told him.

"I know that, Jenny, but I swear he must be part grizzly," the rogue said and fought the anger building inside him at the damage done to his friend's body. Rousseau had a lot to answer for and if Buck had his way the bastard would pay with his life.

M7M7M7M7M7M7M7

Casey Wells took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping into the room. Nathan Jackson was seated near the window and smiled when he spotted her. He held his finger against his mouth and moved toward her. "How is he?"

"He's hurting, Casey."

"Has Buck been in to see him yet?"

"He was here this morning and I think they talked things through. JD seems to be sleeping a little easier," Jackson answered.

"That's good…JD needs to know Buck doesn't blame him," Casey said.

"Are you staying for a while?"

"I was going to," Casey answered.

"Then I'm going to go see if Rain wants to grab an early dinner," Jackson said and left the room.

Casey moved closer to the bed and knew JD was awake. Without a word she sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his left hand. Casey lifted it to her lips and kissed it, closing her eyes as tears slipped silently from them.

"Casey, why are you crying?" Dunne asked softly.

"I thought I was going to lose you, JD," the young woman told him, sighing when he wiped the tears away with his thumb. "When Nettie told me what happened to you and Chris I wanted to go to Providence and kill that bastard myself!"

"It's okay, Casey," the Bostonian told her. "Rousseau will pay for what he did. The police will catch up with him."

"I know they will, JD, but right now I need to know that you're okay."

"I'm not okay, Casey, but I will be. Can you get me a pair of slippers and maybe another one of these things?"

"Where do you want to go?" Casey asked with a frown.

"I need to see Chris…"

"JD…"

"Please, Casey, everyone keeps telling me he's going to be all right, but I need to see for myself. We don't need to stay long, but I…I need to do this," Dunne said.

"I'll go speak to your nurse…"

"No, Casey, please don't do that," Dunne said, holding her hand and preventing her from leaving. "I just need to see him…I won't do anything else or go anywhere else and we'll only stay as long as you say."

"All right, JD, but we only look in on him and that's it."

"That's all I'm asking, Casey," Dunne vowed.

"Stay here and I'll be right back," Casey said and hurried from the room. She returned with the items they'd need and slipped the paper slippers on his feet before helping him into the extra gown. "Should I get a wheelchair?"

"No, I'm okay," Dunne said and held onto the IV pole. He knew he shouldn't be putting this on Casey and felt guilty because there was no way in hell he could've convinced any of the boys to do this for him. He'd make it up to her no matter what it took and hoped she would understand why he'd asked her to take him to see Chris Larabee.

Casey held his arm as they exited the room and made their way toward the elevators across from the nurse's desk. She knew she would not lie if they asked where they were going, but the staff seemed to be busy with their patients. She kept glancing at JD and wished she could convince him to go back to his room, but deep down she knew he needed to do this.

JD kept silent until they reached Larabee's SICU room. Once there he couldn't hold his guilt in any longer as a soft sob escaped his throat. He felt Casey's hand on his arm, but couldn't meet her eyes as he saw the damage done to his mentor.

"JD, look at me," Casey tried, but Dunne's attention seemed locked on the scene in the room. She moved to stand in front of him, but didn't release her grip on his arm. "JD, come on, let's go back to your room."

"I did that to him, Casey…God help me…"

"JD, it wasn't your fault. You wouldn't have done this if Rousseau hadn't used drugs and pain and yes, I know all about what happened to you and I know Chris would never hold this against you…"

"Listen to her, JD, she's telling you the truth," Wilmington said. He'd heard Casey's voice and had turned to see her and JD standing in the doorway.

"Buck…"

"JD, come here," Larabee's voice was weak, but there was no doubt that it was a command, not a request.

Dunne took a deep breath and shook off the terror he felt at facing this man after everything he'd done. The distance between the door and the bed was only about ten feet, but it seemed to take forever for him to inch his way across the floor. He kept his eyes down until he reached the bed and Larabee's voice reached him again.

"Get that head up, JD, I don't like looking down on a man…especially one who doesn't deserve it."

"Don't I, Chris? Look at what I did to you! Look at my hands…they're covered in blood…your blood."

"No, they're not, JD, your hands are clean and always have been. Don't let Rousseau win because he does if the team loses you and I lose a damn good agent and friend," Larabee said honestly.

"Chris, I'm sorry…"

"JD, don't make me get off this bed! Get your head up and keep it that way," the blond warned.

"I'm trying, Chris, but it's…it's hard to…to…"

"Look at me," Larabee finished and saw the truth of his words in the slumped shoulders. "JD, look at me!"

"I…Chris…" Dunne said, but managed to lift his head until he was looking into Larabee's sea green orbs.

"I know about guilt, Kid, I wrote the damn book on it and you're too damn young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders. I know a hundred different ways to say I'm sorry, but it's not the words that make forgiveness possible, JD, it's what's in your heart. Keep your head up and make damn sure that guilt is placed where it belongs," the blond ordered and fought to stay awake, but was finding it increasingly hard to speak. "Buck, make sure…make sure he knows he's not…not to blame."

"I'll see to it, Chris, now go on and sleep while Casey and I bring JD back to his room."

"Sounds….sounds like a plan," Larabee agreed and was soon sleeping with the help of the heavy medication being fed through the IV.

"You heard him, JD," Wilmington said.

"Is he all right, Buck?" Dunne asked, sinking onto the chair beside Larabee's bed.

"No, JD, he's not, but he will be and so will you as long as you let us help you. Let's get you back to your room…"

"Chris…"

"Is going to sleep for a few hours and you look like you could do the same," Wilmington said and took the younger man's arm. "JD, he doesn't blame you and neither do I. You need to listen to what he said and lay the blame at Rousseau's feet where it belongs."

"I'll try, Buck."

"There is no try, JD, but for now it'll do," the rogue said and smiled as Casey placed a gentle kiss on Chris' forehead before helping him with the Bostonian.

"I got him, Buck, you stay here with Chris," Casey said and smiled as she linked her arm through JD's before leading him out of the room.

Buck sighed heavily and sat down as the nurse cared for the sleeping man. He knew JD's guilt would continue until Larabee was back on his feet and Jean Claud Rousseau was in jail where he belonged. Buck rubbed his cheeks with both hands and reached for the cup of cold coffee with a grimace of distaste.

M7M7M7M7M7M7M7

Vin Tanner looked at the doctor standing next to his bed with her arms folded across her chest. He knew Midland well enough to realize he was in deep shit with her. He knew she was right, but it wasn't like he'd set out to do it on purpose. He simply couldn't sleep and had decided to see how Chris was doing. Hell he'd done it several times since Larabee had been brought in, but then again he hadn't fallen asleep and had the staff on his floor searching for him.

"Vin, you know better…"

"Hell, Doc, ya told me ta get some sleep and I's doin' just that 'til that cleaner spooked me," Tanner tried to look contrite, but one look at Midland told him she saw right through him.

"Vin, sitting in a chair in the waiting area with your eyes closed and an IV in your arm is not what I'd call sleeping," Midland scolded as she checked his blood pressure.

"I was visiting Chris…"

"At three in the morning?" the physician said.

"Well Simmons kicked me out, and then the nurses said they had to do something to Chris so I figured I'd wait in the waitin' room. Didn't mean ta fall asleep," Tanner explained.

"That should be a warning to you, Vin, you need your rest," Midland said and smiled at the Texan. "I want your word that you'll stay put or do I have to call Nettie and tell her…"

"Shit, Doc, she needs her rest seein' as how old…"

"Oh, I bet she'd love to hear what you think about her."

"That's not what I meant…it's jest…"

"I know what you meant, Vin," Midland said and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Look, I was just going over Chris' latest test results and we should be able to move Chris in with you sometime tomorrow."

"He's doin' that good?" Tanner asked.

"He's doing better, Vin, but like you he needs to know his limitations."

"I hear ya, Doc."

"Good, so do I have your word that you'll stay put?"

"I'll stay put fer now," Tanner said.

"Good, now get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow evening and don't bitch about having the room all to yourself because once Chris is moved in here I'm sure you'll both use up those three words a day you're allotted," Midland said of the running joke with Larabee's team, although as far as she was concerned they could get downright talkative when under the influence of heavy pain medication.

M7M7M7M7M7M7M7

Father John is my savior…Father John will show me the way…

"No!" the word escaped from the dry throat as the nightmare receded, but Chris could barely contain the panic that surged through him as the knife was driven into his gut.

"Easy, Pard, you're okay…you're safe," Wilmington said and placed his hand on Larabee's shoulder until the sea green eyes cleared and finally focused on him.

"Jesus," the blond said and accepted the glass of water. He drank several mouthfuls before pushing Wilmington away.

"Want to talk about it?"

"I keep hearing that fucking chant," Larabee told him and closed his eyes. Images formed and dissipated quickly, but they seemed to be superimposed on his mind as JD lifted the knife and brought it down into his body. "I'm guessing I probably asked this before, but did they get that bastard?"

"Not yet, but there's an APB out on him and several of his known associates…he'll be caught, Chris," Wilmington assured him.

"Damn," Larabee said and ran his fingers through his hair. "How's JD?"

"He's a mess, Chris. Blames himself for what happened and well so did I…"

"Shit, Buck, it wasn't…"

"I know that and we've already talked it through," Wilmington said and saw the relief on Larabee's face. "Do you need anything, Chris?"

"No…just hate feeling so damn tired all the time."

"The meds will do that to you, Mr. Larabee," the nurse said as she adjusted the flow of the IV.

"Go ahead and sleep, Chris, I got your back."

"Always do, Buck," Larabee said and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before sleep claimed him and the chanting voices echoed through his dreams.

Author'sNote—- Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing...Winnie