Dawn – and Chris – found Vin asleep on the top bunk in the guest room. He'd kicked his sneakers off, but otherwise was still dressed, with his parents' picture held close even in sleep. Chris didn't walk too far into the room; he didn't want to risk waking Vin. He was surprised actually that Vin had slept so soundly, all night long. The bottle of painkillers was still on the desk where Chris had put it last night, so he didn't think Vin took anymore. He couldn't say about the muscle relaxant though.

Vin was turned onto his side, with his back pressed against the wall. He hadn't pulled any blankets over himself, and he still had Chris's shirt on over his own. Air coming through the window screen kept the room from being too hot, and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

For a few moments, Chris stood in the doorway and just watched Vin breathe. At least if he was asleep, nothing was clawing at him. Maybe it was being a parent, and the same kind of relief Chris felt whenever Billy was sick, knowing that as long as he was sleeping quietly he was safe, healing, and in no pain.

This wasn't the Vin that Chris wanted to be watching though. He wanted the Vin that could always find something to laugh at, or the one that would get so sneaky whenever they had a game of football going in the yard. Chris wanted the Vin that always seemed in sync or even one step ahead of what Chris felt or thought or needed.

He wanted the Vin whose life hadn't been destroyed and whose soul hadn't been shredded.

Today, Chris knew, he was in for an all-day meeting with the Board to oust James. He didn't want to bring Vin to work just to leave him by himself, and he couldn't ask him to sit all day in a hard chair and a close room, listening to an endless round-robin of arguments and fabrication.

Chris made a decision, and headed back downstairs to make a phone call.

*/*/*/*

Vin knew as soon as he opened his eyes that morning was nearly over. The room was too hot and the traffic was too noisy to be early morning. He wondered why Chris hadn't gone to work. Maybe that killer headache was back. He eased himself off the top bunk, set his parents' picture on the desk, and went downstairs to find out what was going on.

The house was quiet. Cowboy came to greet him as he crossed the front hall and walked into the kitchen, and he reached out to pat the dog's head. He tried to ask 'where is everybody?' but his mouth was too dry. He'd get a glass of water and ask Chris what why they hadn't gone to work. He stopped dead in the kitchen doorway though – Buck sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper. He was alone.

"Is Chris okay?" Vin managed to say around his dry mouth. It was the only thing that mattered to him at the moment. Buck looked up from the paper

"Well, considering he's sitting in the middle of a board meeting right now, I suppose he's okay. How're you doing?"

"He went to work?" Vin asked. Now he was confused. "Why didn't he take me?"

"Because you had a pretty rough day yesterday, and he wanted to spare you that today. Especially if he was going to be locked in that meeting all day." Buck folded the paper and stood up from the table. "Why don't we get some grub into you? It's been awhile since you ate last."

"But -." Vin let his first thought hang there. He didn't want to come right out and say 'I want to be with Chris, I don't want to be with you.' That just didn't seem friendly. "Last night Chris said he wanted me to stay with him."

"This morning he wanted you to get more sleep. C'mon and eat some breakfast." Buck urged him. "Later on I'll take you to the campus if you want. Might be he'll get himself sprung early."

"Okay. Let me just go and get washed up." Though he didn't really feel like eating. "I'll be right back."

*/*/*/*

Buck didn't like the way Vin looked. He was too pale and too thin, and even with the bruises under his eyes nearly faded, his eyes were dark with fatigue. He also figured, from Vin's expression and tone of voice, that it wasn't Buck he'd expected – or wanted – to find sitting here. Not that he blamed Vin. You find yourself a security in the midst of chaos, it was hard to let go of it.

Well, if it came to it, Buck would just page Chris to get him out of the meeting. Or send him a text message on his cell phone. If he knew Chris - and he knew Chris - the world could go to hell in its own handcart before he let anything get in the way of tending to Vin.

And if they just happened to wheel that handcart right over Mrs. Stephens' tulip bed, so much the better.

Buck'd just started getting things together to make breakfast when Vin came back into the kitchen.

"I don't want anything." He said, looking at the pan and carton of eggs on the counter top. "I'm not hungry."

He sure didn't sound like he was telling the truth. Buck urged him into one chair, and set himself right in front of Vin in another.

"Is it bad?" he asked. Vin didn't seem surprised that he'd guessed.

"No." Vin shook his head. "It just hurts. Not a lot of blood but it just hurts so bad. I don't want to go to Nathan." He added sharply before Buck even had a chance to suggest it. "You know what he said he'd have to do if it doesn't heal? I'm not going back to Nathan."

"What would he have to do?" Buck kept his voice low. He had the idea that Vin wanted to talk about it.

"I'd have to have surgery." Vin told him. "He said – he said the ring of muscle is so tight…" he looked down and Buck followed his line of sight down to where Vin had curled his forefinger into his thumb in approximation of what he was talking about. "…that it pulls the edges of the laceration apart. He said that if it doesn't heal, I'll have to have surgery to fix it. I don't want to have surgery - there. Not anywhere. I want this to just be over."

"You don't want to hurt anymore either, do you Vin? You might even be risking infection if it doesn't heal." The same as he had the other morning, Buck reached out to lay his hand on Vin's shoulder. Vin didn't try to shake it off, though he seemed to duck a little lower into himself.

"Rain wanted to give me some cortisone cream," Vin said. "To try and make it heal, but – it had an applicator. You know?" He looked at Buck. His face had gone dark red. "A plunger kind of applicator that you fill up with the cream and then – then – I couldn't do that. How the hell could she even think that I'd – after what happened? That's just not right."

"She just wants you to get better." Buck tried. From what Chris had told him though, Rain was not on Buck's "A" list just now.

"No, she wants me to be better. It happened, it's over, end of story. She could've at least given me as long as it's taking for the bruises to heal."

"Vin…" But Buck wasn't sure what he had in mind to say next. "For right now, we'll just agree that Rain lives on another planet. Okay? I don't expect you to be 'be' better, neither does Chris. But we do want you to get better. If it comes to surgery –." He saw the hard look Vin gave him. "It'll be your decision, but whatever you decide, me and Chris'll be right here. Will that do for you, for right now? We can't take the physical pain away from you, but anytime you need to talk, or just have somebody nearby – we can do that for you."

Vin shook his head at first, and Buck wondered what he might be disagreeing with. He watched Vin's face though and saw him almost smile.

"I just can't see Chris comfortably sitting though a discussion of blood, lacerations, and why I intend to be on a liquid diet the rest of my life. But yeah, I know what you mean."

He took a deep breath and sat a little straighter.

"I just want this to stop being the only thing that ever happened to me. I want it to stop taking up so much room in my brain."

"That'll happen Vin. Count on it. Even just before when you walked into the kitchen, the first thing you asked about was Chris. It'll be slow maybe, but it'll happen." Buck said. Vin nodded. "Okay, so how about I make you a milkshake for breakfast? It won't be The Larabee Lush, but they don't call it the Wilmington Wonder for nothing."

"The Wilmington Wonder?" Vin gave him a skeptical look, but shrugged. "Sure – I'm willing to risk it." Buck gave his shoulder a pat before standing and going to the refrigerator for the ingredients.

"What do want to do after breakfast?" he asked Vin. "I'm free the whole day, and the weather's great. Be a shame to waste it."

"I think…" Vin said it as though he was making up his mind even as he spoke. "…that I'd like to go to my apartment."

to be continued