Blood flowed over the tile floor, filling the cracks and following the slight slant toward the corner where the tub attached to the wall. There was no room to escape. Arms and feet and fists kept him trapped in the little bathroom, driving him into the wall and pinning him to the floor. Harsh laughter and vulgar intentions echoed around him. Already face down on the slick gore, he felt himself falling…

Vin came awake with a start, flinching to keep himself from falling in his dream. His ribs ached with every hard pound of his heart in his chest and his breath came in short sharp pants of fear. He pressed himself against the mattress until his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the bedroom, reaching out blindly to pull the double frame of his parents' pictures out from under the pillow and press gently against his thundering heart. The door was open, and a thin stream of light from the hallway cut across the end of the bunk bed. Once the roar of fear subsided in his ears, Vin couldn't hear any sound in the house. The room had no clock, so he couldn't be sure what time of night it was. He'd gone to bed early, just after sunset, after taking a shower. Now the house was dully quiet and no hint of sunrise showed outside the window.

Middle of the night.

He needed to take another shower.

*/*/*/*

3:49AM. Chris read the bright orange numbers on his bedside clock. Vin was taking a shower now? For a minute he wondered if he should get up when he heard the water shut off, and check on him. His first thought was to give Vin his privacy, not let him know he'd woke Chris up. Then he thought about where discretion had ever gotten him in the past, and he got out of bed, pulled on some jeans and a shirt, and went downstairs to make a fresh batch of lemonade.

*/*/*/*

Not wanting to put his pajamas back on, Vin got dressed again. He heard the floorboards complaining out in the hallway as he pulled on clean clothes, so he wasn't surprised to find Chris waiting for him when he opened the bathroom door.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Chris asked, so casually that Vin almost believed him.

"Yeah…"

"You okay?"

"Just a bad dream…" Vin pushed wet hair off his forehead then looked at the shower-induced wrinkles in his fingers. "Taking a shower every time I turn around - I'm turning into a damn cliché."

"No, you're just turning into a prune…" Chris told him. "Going back to bed? I'm sitting out on the deck...want some lemonade?" Vin didn't answer. "Think I slept too much today…" Chris went on. "Not tired at all. Wouldn't mind the company."

Vin thought about it. He thought about it hard. Chris was lying, he had to be. Chris was awake because Vin was, he was offering to sit out on the deck and drink lemonade in the middle of the night because he thought maybe Vin wouldn't be able to sleep. Vin wanted to sit with Chris, wanted to Chris to sit with him. Wanted to not risk going back into his dreams and nightmares where they waited for him.

"No, think I'll just go back to bed..."

"You sure?"

They still had to get up in the morning and go to work, and Chris was still looking a little ragged to Vin.

"Yeah...I'm sure..." Without waiting for an answer, Vin went back into the bedroom. He shut the door over and sat on the bed, waiting to hear Chris go back into his own room.

Only he didn't.

Vin heard him go back downstairs. Probably going to put the lemonade away and turn off the lights.

Only he didn't.

The sound of the sliding glass doors being opened drifted up past the bedroom window, followed by the low grumble of Cowboy chasing shadows and Chris' soft 'shhh' called to the lab.

That was it, Chris was just letting Cowboy outside, then he'd head back in and go back to bed.

Only he didn't.

Five or ten or fifteen minutes passed, Vin sitting on the bed, listening to the sounds out his open window. Chris was talking softly to the dog, throwing a stick for him. Why was he sitting down there? What was he waiting for?

Maybe Chris really couldn't sleep. Maybe something was bothering was him. That problem at work, probably. James and Royal and the embezzled money. Having Environmental Services thrown into his corner, along with Security. That'd be enough burden to wear down any man, even Larabee, without adding a brittle friend who couldn't even spend a few hours by himself.

Vin shook his head and started to curl himself on top of the blankets when that one word unexpectedly reverberated in his head.

Friend.

How much of a friend was he being to Chris? Had he ever been to Chris?

Not much the past few days, that was for sure. With every other thought in his head reliving the attack, Vin hadn't had much room or attention left for anything or anyone other than himself.

Selfish.

Just like Aunt Diane always said.

Usually, Vin could push away her sarcastic remarks and nasty treatment. Usually, when he was in a good place, with good friends, he could see that she was wrong, if not outright lying. He had good friends, and he was a good friend in return.

But times like this - when he was sick or scared or frustrated or tired or overworked - Vin could stand back from what he was feeling and see that he was selfish. He could see that he was using his friends, taking from them anything and everything they would give him, and giving nothing back.

Vin sighed. Chris had enough to think about and worry about and deal with. Maybe he needed some looking after too.

*/*/*/*

Sitting out on the deck, Chris idly tossed a stick for Cowboy while he berated himself for not doing enough for Vin. He tried to think of something else, something more, just something he could do to help Vin.

Vin was having nightmares, that wasn't a surprise. But what to do about it? Short of sleeping in the same room, or being awake every moment that Vin was asleep, there was nothing to do but expect them beforehand, and deal with them after.

What else? Vin seemed to be eating okay. Maybe not as much as he normally did. Nobody could ever figure how such a still person could eat so much and stay so scrawny. It seemed like he'd lost some weight in the past few days, but maybe it just seemed that way because he was wearing Chris' shirt and it was too big for him.

Tomorrow would be the test, no doubt about it. The past two days, Vin had been safely tucked in with his friends, with people who knew and understood and only cared that he survived and recovered. Tomorrow - later today - when they went to work, Vin would be out among people who knew, or didn't know, people who cared or cared too much, people who would understand - or who already condemned him for what they didn't understand.

Chris sighed, and threw the stick out into the darkness again for Cowboy. Nothing to be done about that, was there?

Except get his hands on whoever made Vin's life miserable and grind them into the dirt. He could do it. And he would.

*/*/*/*

Just as he was getting ready to head back up to bed, Chris was surprised to hear Vin moving around in the kitchen. He knew it was Vin because he could hear the dishwasher being opened and closed. Mary never took dishes out of the dishwasher except to put into the cupboard. This had to be Vin.

So, Vin was awake, and probably getting something to eat or drink Which was good. Then Vin appeared on the deck, carrying two bowls. He sat down and handed one to Chris - bananas and milk.

*/*/*/*

Mary woke up alone. She took her shower and got dressed, and went downstairs to find two Chris and Vin asleep in the Adirondack chairs on the deck. Vin had a couple of pillows supporting his body, and a wool blanket almost completely covering him. Chris slept with no pillow, but was almost completely covered by Cowboy, the black lab stretched to his full length across Chris' lap and chest, snoring softly.

"Make a cute couple, don't they?" Vin asked, as he pulled the blanket away from his face. He surprised Mary, she thought he was asleep.

"What are the two of you doing out here?"

"Ohhh –." Vin looked over at Chris. "Somebody couldn't sleep, so somebody else thought he might sit out with him awhile…"

"Well, that was very sweet of you." Mary immediately sized up the situation. "I'm going to start breakfast, whenever you want to come in."

"Okay, I'll see if I can rouse the twins…"

When she was gone back inside, Vin pushed the blanket down and stretched as much as he dared. The pleasant summer morning wafted around him, and the nice feeling of being warm, safe, and comfortable lasted just as long as it took the first twinge of pain to reverberate through his body. That's all it took to summon the horror back to him, front and center. He was one day farther away from the attack, and one morning closer to facing life outside the safety of Chris' house.

Suddenly, the day wasn't so pleasant anymore, and even the wind seemed to claw and drag as it drove past him. Vin pushed himself out of the Adirondack chair. He had to act as though the weight of it all wasn't suffocating him. Bundling the pillows and blankets into his arms, he patted the dog's head.

"Hey, Cowboy, time to get up."

Cowboy began to wag his tail even before his bleary eyes opened. He stretched himself out, pushing one paw toward Vin, but making no move to get up. Chris' only response was to reposition the dog's elbow out of his ribs. He didn't even open his eyes.

"Chris?" A little louder.

"Hmm?"

"Can I borrow your truck? I promised Billy I'd teach him how to drive." Vin didn't feel the casualness and humor that he forced out; he knew he had to make everybody else think he was doing okay.

"Keys 'r in the kitchen." Chris mumbled into Cowboy's fur.

"And can I use it to haul a load of manure to fertilize my garden?"

"…yeah…"

"Can I jet Mary off to an exotic island for a few weeks without you?"

"Sure…" Chris answered with a voice just as mumbled and tired, and still sounding mostly asleep. "Y'oughta be able to hitch a ride on one of those pigs that'll have started flying just then." Chris finally opened his eyes. "Daylight already, hunh?"

"Happens every day about this time." Vin agreed. "Mary's getting breakfast. I'm headin' in."

"Okay, I'll be there…" Chris made a halfhearted attempt to sit up, but Cowboy had fallen back asleep. "Soon's I can roust 'The Terror' here."

"I'll come back for you, if you're not there by lunchtime." Vin promised, and then walked into the house.

"You're all heart, you know that, Tanner." Chris called after him, pushing at the deadweight of dog pinning him down.

Vin carried the pillows and blankets up to the guest room. His room. The times he'd stayed here in the past, or when he was over for dinner, or just stopped by for some reason, any reference to the guest room was always made to 'his' room. He always appreciated that. But maybe now he was taking it for granted.

He wished he could figure it out.

Realistically, he knew – as he sat himself down on the edge of the lower bunk in 'his' room – he knew that Chris was his friend. Vin could easily pull from his memory every little comment and action and sign of affection that Chris had ever offered him that left Vin no doubt of their friendship.

Vin had helped Chris move his frugal possessions into his office that first day three years ago, but he never intended to pursue anything more than a business relationship with Larabee. The next day they'd passed each other on the Green, and Vin offered a generic greeting. But Chris turned to walk with him. Mostly he asked Vin questions about the University and surrounding area, but his final question was to ask if Vin'd had lunch and would he join Chris?

The offer – and the enthusiasm behind it – surprised Vin. What surprised him more though was that he accepted the invitation, and actually had a good time. Aside from some initial awkwardness at having lunch with a relative stranger, Vin never felt anything but at ease around Chris.

So, why was he feeling so self-conscious now?

Because nothing was the way it had been Friday noon, when they had lunch together and parted ways on the Green. Chris had gone back to his office, and Vin's life had been exploded.

And he would never get all the pieces back together again.

He set the blanket and pillows on the bed and gathered up the waiting clean clothes for another shower. But when he got to the bathroom, he wondered why he even bothered. He knew he'd feel just as dirty when he got out of the shower as when he went in. Why waste the time and the hot water? He was dirty, he'd always be dirty, so he might as well just be dirty.

So he threw the clothes back onto the bunk bed and went downstairs.

*/*/*/*

to be continued