Ezra lay back on his bed and closed his eyes as he let the familiarity of his home soothe away the aches and pains and emotional turmoil that plagued him. He could hear the television in the living room and knew Vin was probably watching reruns on the channel that showed the sitcoms from the eighties. The Texan seemed to enjoy shows like Gilligan's Island and The Jeffersons.

Ezra glanced at the bedside clock and rubbed at the wound in his chest before sitting up. He was hungry, but he wasn't sure what he wanted. He tucked his feet into his slippers and grabbed the soft robe from the back of the chair before making his way to the living room.

"Hey, Ez, ya look better'n ya did this morning," Tanner observed.

"Thank you...it is amazing what a couple of hours..."

"A couple of hours...try six," the Texan said with a grin. "Ya hungry?"

"Famished."

"I'm guessing that's a yes," Tanner said. "Come on...I made stewed chicken and vegetables."

"Surprisingly that sounds quite appetizing," Standish said as his stomach rumbled loudly.

"We'd best feed that beast before it bites us," the Texan said and led the way into the kitchen. He waited for Ezra to sit down at the breakfast nook and served him a bowl of the savory chicken stew and a biscuit.

"Thank you, Vin," Standish said and took a tentative spoonful, relishing the taste as his stomach once more rumbled appreciatively. "Is there anything new at Shady Acres?"

"Not much. The board was ready ta fire Styles, but somebody took care of that decision fer 'em."

"Has JD gotten anywhere with Kent's files?"

"No, he's still trying to break through Kent's secure passwords, but so far he's hit a brick wall," Tanner answered.

"Perhaps I could..."

"Oh, no ya can't. Travis said ta remind ya that ya ain't allowed near the office until the docs clear ya."

"JD could bring..."

"Ain't gonna happen, Ez, so suck it up and put a sock in it," Tanner warned.

"Vin, what if Kent wasn't behind the killings? What if whoever is out there decides that Chris is a liability he or she can't afford?"

"We've all thought of that, Ez, and it means ya could be in danger too," the Texan said.

"I'm no threat."

"Maybe not, but if Kent didn't do it then you could know somethin' and not even know ya know it."

"Somehow that actually made sense," Standish said and looked into his bowl, amazed that he'd actually finished the whole thing. He picked up the biscuit and broke off a piece. "Vin..."

"Ez, it ain't up fer debate," Tanner told him.

"I was simply going to ask who is picking Chris up tomorrow?"

"Sure ya were," the Texan said and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Buck's picking Chris up and he'll bring him here. Mighty nice of ya ta let 'im stay in yer guest room."

"It seemed like a favorable idea considering the alternative would be needing two of you in different places," Standish said and finished the biscuit. He reached for a napkin and cleaned up the crumbs while watching as Vin put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Are ya headin' back ta bed or would ya like ta watch somethin'?"

"I believe I could stomach an episode of Gilligan's Island," Standish said.

"Yer a closet Gilligan fan," Tanner said with a grin.

"No, I prefer being a Ginger fan, but you may have Gilligan if that's..."

"Gilligan don't float my boat, Ezra, now Mary Ann is mighty fine," Tanner said as they made their way into the living room.

M7M7M7M7M7M7M7

Chris had never been a patient man and waiting for Simmons was not one of his favorite pass times, not by a long shot. He slapped the mattress and sat up on the edge of the bed. He stood up and reached for the IV pole before making his way to the bathroom where he took care of business and glanced at his reflection in the mirror.

"Ya look like shit, Larabee," he mumbled of the pale face and dark half circles under his eyes. He knew the reason was more than just his wound; it was also due to the nightmares and lack of sleep. He reached for the cloth and used it to wash his face before leaving the room and making his way to the chair beside the window.

Chris leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, snapping them open when he heard voices outside the door. There was no mistaking the gruff sound he associated with Simmons and Chris readied himself for the argument he knew was inevitable with the older man. He was ready when Simmons and Midland stepped into the room, or at least he thought he was.

"Good morning, Chris," Midland said with a smile.

"It was until you let him in," Larabee groused.

"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine on an otherwise dreary morning," Simmons said and dropped the chart onto the table.

"You could have sent me home yesterday and made us both happy," Larabee said.

"Now, Chris, Brandon has last say on whether you are ready to be released," Midland said.

"Where is he?" the blond asked.

"He's in surgery," the woman answered.

"Damn it, Doc, I want out of here."

"There's a big surprise," Simmons said with a grin. "Look, Larabee, Brandon signed your release papers because your numbers are better..."

"Why the hell didn't you say so?" Larabee snapped.

"It was too much fun listening to you gripe about what you wanted," Simmons said.

"Chris, Brandon left orders for follow up appointments with him and I want to see you in my office in one week," Midland told him.

"Done, now if you two would excuse me I'd like to get the hell out of here before the vampires show up for more of my blood..."

"Actually, it's not all yours anymore...I'm more inclined to say you're borrowing it for short time," Simmons teased.

"Hell, Doc, you're a real barrel of laughs this morning, but my advice is...don't give up your day job," Larabee said.

"I wouldn't think of it," the gruff physician said with a grin. "Besides if I did who would I have to irritate...or irrigate where you're concerned."

"Real funny," Larabee said and turned to Midland who seemed to be enjoying the banter more than he was. "Doc, are we done?"

"I think so," Midland said and passed Larabee several sheets of paper. "Those are your follow up appointments and your scripts. Make sure you finish the antibiotics, Chris, or you could end up back in here and we all know how much you detest hospitals."

"Then why does he have frequent flier miles on the gurneys?" Simmons said with a toothy grin before leaving Midland alone with Larabee.

"Doc, why did you take him on?" Larabee asked.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time and he certainly knows how to handle all of you," Midland said. "He's good at his job, Chris, and he knows what he's doing...I trust him."

"That's good to know, Doc," Larabee sighed as he looked toward the door to find Buck standing there.

"Simmons said you're like a grizzly with a burr up your ass this morning...oh, hi, Doc."

"Good morning, Buck, make sure you pick up his scripts and don't let him anywhere near the office until I clear him," Midland said and left the two men alone.

"You ready to blow this Popsicle stand?"

"Hell, yes, did you bring my clothes?"

"Of course...not that you wouldn't cut a fine figure walking out of here in your birthday suit and bandages," Wilmington teased.

"Real funny, Buck, make yourself useful and go find a nurse to take this thing out before they decide to do more tests," Larabee groused. It wasn't long before the nurse removed the IV and Chris dressed in loose fitting jeans and a t-shirt settled into the wheelchair and was pushed out of the room. By the time they reached Buck's Mustang, Chris felt as weak as a newborn calf and was grateful for the ladies' man's help getting his seat belt secured.

TBC