Ezra sat at his desk, staring at the screensaver of dice and playing cards tumbling across his computer screen. If anyone asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell them exactly what was going through his mind. Nothing maybe. No concrete images certainly. Just - abhorrence? Repugnance? What was it that he was feeling so acutely he couldn't summon the concentration necessary to log himself onto his computer?

It'd only been a matter of days since he'd seen Vin last. Thursday, wasn't it? Ezra had been heading for home. Passing Vin on the University Green, they exchanged pleasantries before going their separate ways.

"You drive safe now Ezra," was the last thing Vin said.

That was the last thing Vin always said.

Suddenly, Ezra's mind was burdened with a dozen details of Vin's thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit. Vin was the one who remembered that Ezra didn't like too much ice in his ice water. He was the one who remembered birthdays and special anniversaries and favorite odd holidays with a card or verbal greeting. If someone's car was out of commission, Vin was always the first to offer a ride to work or home, or anywhere. He was always the first with a joke, a napkin, a hand, a shoulder.

Yet, at this very moment, Ezra knew that if he never saw Vin again, it would be too soon.

*/*/*/*

The pseudo-rural countryside around Chris' land quickly disappeared as Buck turned his truck down a few side roads and onto the main drag of town. Car dealerships, fast food restaurants, strip malls and trailer parks lined the four lane highway on either side.

"Seems like it's gonna be another hot day." Buck said.

"Yeah." Vin answered absently. His mind was off elsewhere, thinking. He'd known Chris three years now, and Buck nearly as long, less a week or so. At first their only connection was through Chris. Even now, when they seemed to have developed their own friendship, sometimes it seemed that Chris was the only thing they had in common. Vin wondered how he'd come to find himself sitting in the front seat of Buck's truck, on their way to breakfast, hard on the heels of a brutal nightmare.

"Not gettin' any greener." Buck muttered to the slow driver at the signal in front of them. "Hey-" he directed at Vin, when traffic moved again. "You want me to check your mail for you? I can swing by after work this afternoon."

"Okay...thanks...Chris's still got my keys..." Vin wanted to ask Buck why he was doing all this, what he wanted, why he cared what happened to Vin. Why he didn't care what had happened. "If it's bills, you can keep 'em."

Buck laughed at first, then a serious look crossed his face.

"You've got sick time, right? You'll be on disability, something like that? I mean - being off work won't set you back any, will it?" he asked. The question - and the concern behind it - nearly overwhelmed Vin. He nodded, then wanted to be sure Buck knew which question he was answering.

"I'm all set."

"You sure? Car payment? Rent?" Vin nodded each time. "Well, you let me know if things change." Buck insisted. Just as Vin was trying to still the emotion rolling through him enough to say 'thanks', Buck went on in a tone just as serious and concerned: "Cheese of the month club?" and Vin laughed out loud. The first time, he thought, since the attack.

*/*/*/*

Casey watched Nettie finish vacuuming the dining room carpet for the third time that morning. Still early, barely nine am, and the dishes were done, laundry hanging in the yard, woodwork polished, kitchen floor gleaming - and every carpet in the house immaculate.

"Aunt Nettie? Is everything okay?"

"Of course dear." Nettie said, wrapping the vacuum cord around its posts on the handle. "Why would you even ask?" She rolled the vacuum cleaner to the front closet then went into the kitchen for glass cleaner and paper towels to start on the dining room windows.

"Well -" Casey's head swiveled as though she was at a tennis match, watching her aunt come and go. "You just seem a little - busy."

"Busy? Well honey, it's going to be another scorcher today. I just want to get all the housework done before midday."

"Aunt Nettie -" This was more housework than they usually did in four days, much less one. " - are you worried about Vin?" and the older woman stopped in mid-swipe across a pane of glass. She looked down and refolded the paper towel for a clean surface and began wiping again.

"Of course I'm worried honey. He's been hurt. Of course I'm worried."

"But - you've hardly been over to see him at all."

"He's staying at Chris' place while he gets better." But Casey knew that that wouldn't usually stop Nettie from keeping a close eye on Vin.

"JD said he was -"

"I know what JD said." Nettie told her, a little harshly. Up until that moment, Casey hadn't really believed it was true.

"But - Aunt Nettie - how could he?" Unconsciously echoing JD's sentiment as her own. "You always told me it'd be better to die than let that happen. Why do you think he let them do that? Wouldn't you think Vin'd fight till they killed him, before he'd let them do - that - wouldn't you think that?"

Nettie sighed and turned her paper towel again. "Yes Casey. I would've thought so."

*/*/*/*

Buck was grateful for that one laugh, it meant everything wasn't dead inside Vin. He was serious about helping Vin, and when he saw in his eyes just how much it meant to him, Buck found himself automatically trying to lighten the situation. He knew Vin was trying to find a way to thank him for helping, but Buck didn't need to be thanked. Vin was a friend, a good friend, and he needed a hand to guide him through some rough waters. Buck had had his own brush with similar waters and he wasn't about to sit by and watch Vin Tanner drown.

Vin sat now watching out the passenger window. He kept it rolled all the way up, though the morning was growing hot and the truck didn't boast A/C. Buck figured he felt safer that way, so he didn't say anything about it. It was a short drive from Larabee's to the closest McDonalds, fifteen minutes if that, and as they rolled to a stop in the drive thru line, Buck asked Vin what he wanted for breakfast. Vin turned a look on him as though it hadn't occurred to him he'd be required to eat food for breakfast.

"Oh - I don't know. Whatever you're having I reckon. What are you having? I can pay for it..." he started to reach for his wallet, but Buck pushed his hand down.

"Don't even think about it. I'm asking, I'm paying." and Vin blinked several times.

"Thanks, Buck."

*/*/*/*

Rain pulled together the paperwork she needed to start the clinic's monthly statistics. They weren't due until the tenth of the following month, still two weeks away, but she wanted to get a head start. Nathan was in the supply closet just across the hall, taking inventory. After a little while of inputting her data, she called to him:

"Nathan? How old is Vin? I know it's in his chart, but I don't have it with me."

"Vin?" Nathan walked the few feet over to her. "I don't know exactly. I'll pull his chart for you - why do you want to know?"

"For the stats. I always put the person's age in along with the diagnosis."

"You're putting that in the statistics?" Nathan asked, dismayed. "You can't do that. You can't do that to Vin."

"Nathan - I'm not putting in his name or any identifying data. We always break down our cases by diagnosis and age."

"And sex." Nathan pointed out. "Somebody is bound to figure it out Rain. We can't do that to Vin."

"Do what Nathan? It's no different than recording how many cases of migraine headaches or STD we treat in a month."

"Of course it's different. Do you know how much ridicule and ostracism we would be setting him up for? Vin must be walking a fine line now emotionally. He's gonna have a hard enough time getting his life back together, he doesn't need to be dragging our statistics along with everything else he's carrying right now."

Rain stared at Nathan, then grumbled and hit her 'delete' key repeatedly. "Fine. I won't put it in. But I think you're wrong about Vin. I know he was agitated when we treated him the other day, but he's had time to sort this all out. I'm sure he's dealing with it quite well."

*/*/*/*

Buck and Vin got their fast food breakfast and drove another ten minutes or so out of town, in the direction opposite from where Chris lived. Buck pulled into a shaded, isolated spot along the canal and they ate in silence for awhile. Vin just picked at his food, taking tiny bites and chewing longer than would seem necessary. Buck was finished with his breakfast long before Vin ever would be.

"Everything OK?" he asked.

"Hunh?"

"The food okay? If that's not what you want, you know we can get whatever you want to eat."

"Oh - no. This is fine, I always like McDonald's. Just - tired - I don't know - eating's not exactly top on my list these days."

Buck hesitated before saying anything, quickly running possible answers through his mind. He didn't want to sound patronizing, or flippant, or cause Vin any more pain.

"You need to eat to get well."

"Doesn't always work that way." Vin's response confused Buck at first.

"What're you talking about?" but Vin dismissed it with a shake of his head.

"Nothing - just don't feel a hundred percent today." He took a pull on his orange juice - he was almost done with that, Buck noticed, and after a minute or so, his brain finally registered what Vin might be referring to. This was not a time to be coy

"Have you been bleeding?" he asked. "You need to see Nathan?"

"I never want to see Nathan again." Vin spoke down to his hands. He sounded totally desolate. "I never want to see anybody again." Buck shifted slightly so he could put his hand on Vin's shoulder without stretching.

"I know you don't, Vin. I know you don't."

Finally, Vin just crumpled his breakfast burrito up in its paper and shoved it into the paper sack.

"I'm sorry - I just can't eat anything."

Buck knew Vin was apologizing, thinking he'd wasted his money or something. He kept his hand on Vin's shoulder, even though he could feel the muscles tense in an unconscious effort to get him to let go.

"You have to eat eventually Vin. You have to heal."

"I'm not going back to Nathan's." Vin spat and Buck sighed.

"I can guess it wasn't pleasant."

"Do you know what they did?" Vin demanded. "What they had to do? What they said they'd have to do if it didn't heal? Damn attack wasn't bad enough - can't I just get through the rest of my life without anybody touching me?" and Buck still didn't move his hand.

"No Vin, you can't. And I don't just mean this..." he squeezed his hand gently around the thin shoulder. "Just a part of life that people will touch you. You can't get away from it."

"Sure you can." Vin disputed him. "My whole life, long as I can remember until just recent, nobody ever had both hands on me at the same time on purpose."

It took Buck several seconds to get over the shock.

"Ever?"

"No, not ever."

"Not your Mom or your Dad? Or anybody?" Buck couldn't believe it.

"Well, I guess Mom must've, don't remember it much." Vin owned. "But not my Dad. He wasn't a touching kinda person. We didn't even shake hands at Mass..."

"Vin - years nobody touched you?" Buck refused to believe it. "Not hugs, or handshakes, or getting a pat on the back for a job well done? What about dating? You must've held hands? Or something?"

A deep blush swept across Vin's face, and just as Buck was about to offer that it was none of his business, Vin answered him.

"I don't date much Buck. Not the same lady more'n a few times anyway. Probably got something to do with it, not holding hands even."

"But Vin - surely you've -" and this Buck could believe even less. "-made love with a woman?" Vin shook his head.

"Doing it before you're married is against my faith." then a look crossed his face as he seemed to realize what he was saying. It had been done to him.

"Vin - what they did to you was an act of violence. They used the act of sex as a weapon. It was as impersonal as if they had hit you with a truck."

"Yeah." but Vin's tone of voice didn't agree with his word. He tried to look at Buck a couple of times, but he couldn't raise his eyes. "Can we just - would you take me back to Chris' place? I just want to lie down for awhile."

"Sure." Buck finally moved his hand and started his truck.

to be continued