Morgan pulled up to the ranch just as Chris was closing the door behind him, his expression grim enough to have her releasing a resigned sigh. For a moment, she wasn't even sure he was even aware of her presence, long strides carrying him down to the gravel of the drive without ever looking up. But the soft snap of the car door seemed to finally grab his attention, and Morgan frowned as soon as she saw the familiar tick of a muscle in his jaw. The way his hands had curled into fists at his sides.
"That good, huh?"
"Bout what I expected."
"Well, I'd tell you to give her time, but patience isn't really in your nature, is it?" Morgan quipped, aware of Chris' mildly raised brow, and suppressing a smirk over knowing if anyone could prod him like this—push him to actually speak about something rather than just sweeping it under the rug—it's her.
The snort he eventually gave her just proved that point once again.
"Can I count on you to be around for dinner, or should Sam and I make alternative plans?"
"Might be able to get back," Chris shrugged, dragging a hand across his face, and trying to ignore the look Morgan was giving him in response to his non-committal reply, "Adam's stayin' the night with Vin."
"Chris—"
"Thought it might be best for a night or two. 'Til—"
"He's her nephew."
When Chris didn't immediately reply, Morgan managed another sigh, a frown apparent as she shifted a bit to keep him from brushing past her altogether. The look he gave her would have sent a smarter person—one who didn't know Chris Larabee like the back of their hand—running.
But Morgan Wilmington had never been a runner.
"You know, she used to worship the ground you walked on. Wanted to be just like you."
"Morgan—"
"I just think it's sad you aren't even going to consider letting things get back to the way they were."
Morgan didn't give Chris any time to respond, instead turning to head to the front door at a jog. The slam of the truck door reached her not long after, and she forced herself to suppress a snort. To suppress the urge to turn back and drag Chris into the ranch with whatever strength she had because this was ridiculous.
Deep down, she knew forcing either of the Larabee siblings to do anything they didn't want to do would only make things worse, but it still didn't make the desire to knock their heads together until they saw sense any less tempting.
"Sam?"
Morgan could have predicted the silence that met the inquiry, but she doesn't allow it to stop her from moving forward through the foyer—the hall leading to the den—and finally to the sliding glass door leading out onto the deck. Sam was there, her back to Morgan, perched on a portion of the bench that wrapped around the perimeter, her knees drawn up to her chest.
Sam didn't move, even when the sliding door hisses open, and Morgan simply moved to sit at her friend's side, keeping her expression neutral, even when a pang of disappointment threatened as Sam continued to stare resolutely ahead.
"Chris is gone."
"Figured," Sam said, her attention still fixed on the property extending beyond the deck, though Morgan suspected she wasn't really seeing any of it at all. Her green eyes were distant. Almost hollow. Like she didn't dare believe any of this was real.
And Morgan wanted more than anything to make sure Sam could trust that it was.
"So what's your plan?"
"My plan?"
"For today," Morgan clarified, making a show of following Sam's gaze, because she could see from the way her jaw tightened that she was already starting to feel closed in.
"Hadn't planned anything."
"Bold move. That makes it my choice."
Sam snorted in response to that particular remark, and Morgan bit back a full smile, some of the tension in her friend's shoulders easing whether she was consciously aware of it or not. She wasn't exactly unfamiliar with this. With Sam's apparent ability to wall herself off. To hold every emotion so rigidly in check that there was no room for error, even with the people she could trust.
"Kinda thought I'd just—"
"Stay in?"
Sam nodded, seeming to take some form of relief in how easily Morgan had caught on to her thoughts. She looked at Morgan for the first time since she had arrived, surprised to see an expectant expression, instead of anything else. Anything resembling pity, or concern.
Sam wanted to thank Morgan for that but she didn't know how, and so she simply turned her attention back to the yard, swallowing past a sudden lump in her throat before forcing herself to speak once again.
"If you had other plans—"
"Nope."
"Morgan—"
"Don't even try to stop me, Larabee," Morgan interrupted, aware of the lift of Sam's eyebrow, and the soft shake of her shoulders that signified the barest hints of laughter, "You're my plan."
"Good to know I'm a pet project."
"Oh shut up. You know that's not what I meant."
Sam's lips curved upward into what might have been a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. And Morgan knew that was about as much as she was going to get, her own expression settling into something more determined as she stood and extended a hand to help Sam do the same.
"Come on."
"What are you doing?"
"Dragging you inside. Plunking you down on the couch. Making as much popcorn as we could possibly eat, and spending the day watching movies."
Sam knew she wouldn't get anywhere by arguing, and so she simply allowed Morgan to tug her back indoors, obediently sitting on the sofa and grabbing for the worn blanket hanging over the back without a second thought. Tugging it around her shoulders, Sam reached for the remote, turned on the television, and listened to the hauntingly familiar sounds of Morgan rummaging around in the kitchen to prepare the popcorn.
For a moment, she got lost in the memory of a boy bouncing eagerly on the cushion at her side, excitement radiating from him in waves over the idea of movie time. But as soon as her eyes started to sting, Sam quickly shut that thought out, focusing on the murmur of the actors talking on screen. On the sound of the popcorn in the microwave.
Sam had to fight to restrain the jolt she felt when Morgan appeared at her side, holding out a can of pop, and she hoped the small nod she gave in thanks would be enough to keep her friend from realizing how hard it was to pretend to be in control.
She didn't want to talk about anything, knowing that if one crack made its way into the fragile dam she constructed around her heart, everything will implode in seconds…
Sam took a swig of the pop Morgan had given her while she listened to the sounds of her friend pouring the popcorn out of the bag and into a large bowl, all the while trying to ignore how fiercely she wished the carbonated drink in her hand was actually something a little stronger.
…
Buck watched Chris storm into the bull-pen, and wondered, not for the first time, if it would have been smarter to just take the day off. They didn't have a case, currently, and everyone knew how much he hated sitting around catching up on paperwork.
But he had known what today would be like for his friend. He had known Chris would need him, even if he never said anything like that out loud.
He had left home knowing Morgan would be there for Sam, and headed into the office to at least pretend like he was taking care of the paperwork from their last assignment until he found an excuse to do something else.
And that excuse had just walked through the door.
Buck got up from his desk, then, ignoring Vin's raised eyebrow as he followed after Chris into his office at the opposite end of the room, and he tried to pretend he didn't know what it meant when his hand had to reach out to catch at the door to that office before it slammed shut in his face.
"You forget to drink that tar you call coffee this mornin'?"
Chris didn't respond, not that Buck really expected him to, moving to take a seat behind his desk, and leaving Buck to flop into one of the chairs in front of it. Chris seemed intent upon firing up his computer. Making an attempt at seeming like this was just any other day.
Even as Chris continued to ignore him, Buck remained exactly where he was, leaning back in the chair and stretching out his legs to cross them at the ankles beneath the desk, even though he inadvertently jostled against the toe of Chris' boot along the way.
"Somethin' you need, Buck?"
"Just wantin' to check in on—"
"Don't need to be checked on."
Buck didn't let the hard nature of the reply bother him, shifting to fold his hands across his stomach, even in spite of the slight glare Chris sent his way. He knew his friend well enough to know most of the surliness was just a show. An attempt at keeping everyone at arm's length.
And even if Chris would never say it, Buck was also absolutely certain that none of it was ever truly directed at him.
"You run into Morgan on your way in?" He questioned, Chris' almost immediate nod provoking a grin before he can stop it, "That what has you as grumpy as a bear with a porcupine's quills stuck up its—"
"Ain't Morgan's fault."
Buck recognized the warning in his friend's tone, but chose to ignore it anyway, sparing a brief glance back toward the door to the office to ensure it was still closed, as he had left it. To ensure no one out in the bull-pen was looking like they were considering joining them, before he spoke again.
"Ain't Sammie's fault either, Chris."
"You know somethin' else that landed her in jail?" Chris retorted, the poorly concealed anger behind the words causing Buck to frown. He had known this wouldn't be easy. Easy for Chris, or Sam. But a part of him hated how Chris was still living in the blame he had thrown at Sam's feet since the start of the entire ordeal.
Sam wasn't blameless. Buck knew that. She had made her choices.
But where Chris was determined to see her as someone entirely different from the little sister that used to dog his every step, Buck still saw hints of that girl, desperately trying to claw her way free.
And if Chris kept acting like he didn't want anything to do with her, Buck knew Sam would stow that girl away for good.
"Didn't think so."
"Just gotta give her time to adjust," Buck said, watching the predictable muscle in Chris' jaw start to twitch as his friend turned back to the computer, to stare at the screen as though it had done him personal harm, "I bet it'll take her a minute to get used to being back home."
"Think it's gonna take more than just a minute, Buck."
He recognized the resignation behind his friend's words, and Buck sobered almost immediately, already aware of exactly how much it had cost Chris to see Sam behind bars. He could talk a good game about blaming her. Having no sympathy for where she had landed. But it would take a blind man to miss how behind the tension—the anger—Chris was blaming himself for not seeing the signs sooner. For not pulling Sam back from the edge before she went careening over it.
Buck had shouldered some of that blame himself ever since her arrest. Morgan had, too.
But blaming themselves forever wouldn't do any of them any good. He and Morgan had realized that, early on.
Now all that remained was getting Chris to see it, too.
Before Buck can decide if he wanted to try to start on that particular undertaking now, or to wait a while for his friend to cool down, though, a knock on the office door had him standing to open it, aware of how Chris moved to stand as well before fully focusing his attention on the man standing on the other side.
"Sorry Buck. Chris," JD apologized, glancing between the two men, and clearly picking up on the tension radiating from Chris with a frown, "I think we've got another case."
Chris shouldered past Buck to head back to the bull-pen, and Buck didn't miss the questioning look JD sent him in response. But he didn't know what to tell the kid. He didn't even know what to tell himself.
He could only hope a new case would be a distraction. Something to tide Chris over until he felt more comfortable with the idea of giving Sam another chance.
Because Buck wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do if it failed.
…
Alright, so, as usual with me, the angst train is already rolling in this story. (Choo-choo?) But I hope none of you mind that, too much, because the fun is only just getting started! I know I said I wasn't exactly sure how often updates would come with this one, but it would seem binge-reading ChiTown4ever's Magnificent Seven stories kind of jump-started the muses a bit. Once again, it's all her fault ;).
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read this story so far, and especially to Terryfrann, ChiTown4ever, and Guest for leaving a review! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as the last and as always I cannot wait to hear what you think!
Until next time, loves…
MOMM