Part 7
Vin pried his left eye open, wondering why the right one wasn't cooperating. Slowly, he raised his hand and touched the eye in question, finding it swollen and tender.
Aw hell, Vin mumbled through thick lips. Carefully, he rolled his head to the side to check on Ezra. The other boy lay on his back, his face a mass of bruises and dried blood. From the way he felt, Vin imagined that he didn't look much better. Gingerly, he pushed himself up into a seated position, clutching at his ribs tightly. He had suffered broken ribs before: once, at the hands of a violent foster father; another time, as a result of a fight with some other kids over his accidental intrusion onto their turf.'
Vin knew what broken ribs felt like, and though his friend hadn't said anything, he suspected Ezra had experience with them as well. He had seen the scars his friend carried on his back and knew the likely cause, since he wore similar scars himself. In fact, he suspected he and Ezra had gained some of those marks at the same place. Their last foster father had been a big fan of spare the rod and spoil the child' and had relished using his belt – and whatever other implements struck his fancy on any given day – with great frequency.
Clicking on the lamp by their bed, he reached over slowly and gave Ezra a gentle shake. Ez. Wake up.
Ezra moaned and rolled away from him, the motion causing him greater pain. he groaned in a harsh whisper.
How you feelin'? Vin asked.
Ezra replied. I feel like I've been run over by a bus.
Vin snorted softly. Ain't too far off. We got stomped pretty good.
Ezra shifted slightly and attempted to sit up with little success. I believe I may have damaged some ribs.
Yeah, me too, Vin commiserated. Stay there. I'll get the first aid kit. With much effort, he crawled to the corner where they kept the cardboard box full of medical supplies. Gripping it tightly, he dragged it over to the bed and started to rummage through it.
Ezra said hoarsely.
Nodding, Vin pulled out the bottle, tipping several into his hand. Hang on and I'll get us some water.
Ezra didn't wait, swallowing the pills dry.
Rolling his eyes, Vin did the same, deciding that the water could wait. Next, he pulled out a couple rolls of ace bandages. He reached to undo his shirt, startled when he found he was still wearing his coat – they must have been beyond exhausted when they returned last night. Despite his swollen and sore wrist, he finally managed to strip off his shirt and carefully wrap his ribs. It wasn't a perfect job, but it would have to do.
Ez, can you get your shirt off?
Ezra groaned and reached for his clothing. Vin helped him remove his coat, supporting his shoulder, which ached almost as much as when he'd first dislocated it. It took some time, but they eventually got Ezra's ribs wrapped as well.
Leaning back into his pillows, Ezra suddenly started to cough, clutching his ribs while his face contorted in agony. The coughing finally subsided, leaving Ezra pale and gasping for breath. he said hoarsely. That hurts.
Vin watched him, wincing sympathetically with each wracking cough. Geez, Ez. Is there anything I can do to help?
Cough medicine, Ezra whispered.
Without hesitation, Vin reached for the bottle of red liquid, opening it before he handed it to his friend.
Ezra grabbed the bottle, taking several swallows before handing it back to Vin, who stowed it back in the box. Leaning back against the wall, Vin glanced casually at the clock. It was nearly nine AM – another late morning for him. With a delicate sigh, he pulled himself to his feet. Hungry or not, he and Ezra needed to eat, especially since they had missed dinner last night. He could make them some eggs, but he knew that, given recent events, Rosie would be worried if neither of them showed up at the diner.
Ez, I'm gonna head over to Rosie's, Vin announced. You want anything special?
Ezra rasped.
Vin pulled the blanket over Ezra before climbing painfully to his feet. Easing into his coat, he called, I'll be back soon.
Ezra grunted softly in reply as Vin stepped through the door.
Limping slightly, Vin walked slowly toward the diner, wincing as new aches and pains made themselves known. He and Ezra had been lucky the police had scared MacDermott's goons away, otherwise they would both be in much worse shape. Vin considered their situation with a frown. Between the police and MacDermott, it was becoming dangerous for them to show their faces outside of their apartment. Whenever something like this had happened to them before, they had simply moved on, finding another place to live. But this time was different. They had a good thing going here, with a nice place to live, jobs to provide them some income, and people who watched out for them. It would be next to impossible to find all of that somewhere else. Vin sighed, hoping all of this trouble would blow over soon. He really didn't want to leave.
Ezra awoke to the sound of the door opening, smiling weakly as Vin walked into the room.
How you feelin'? Vin asked.
Ezra lifted an eyebrow, possibly the only part of him that didn't hurt, and gave Vin a dirty look.
Vin chuckled dryly. Yeah, me too.
What did Rosie send along today? Ezra inquired, pointing at the bag Vin was carrying.
Eggs and pancakes, Vin said. She figured neither of us can eat anything that takes much effort. He shook his head in consternation. She wouldn't even let me mop the floors. Took one look at me and dragged me over to a seat. It was all I could do to keep her from haulin' me to the clinic.
Ezra nodded, remembering the similar treatment he had received after injuring his shoulder.
She wants to see you tomorrow, Vin warned. I think she's worried about ya.
I shall put in an appearance, then, Ezra said in a hoarse whisper.
Need a hand gettin' up?
Ezra said with a grin.
Vin helped him to his feet and the two boys sat gratefully at their table, digging in to the breakfast Rosie had provided. Ezra was grateful for the soft food, both for his sore throat and his aching jaw. Jones and his friends had gotten in some solid blows and Ezra was glad that the bruises were the worst of the damage to his face. The last time he had gotten into such a knock-down drag-out fight, he had lost a tooth. He counted himself fortunate to have been able to indulge himself in a gold replacement after a particularly profitable night of playing poker, but wasn't looking to add any more carats to his smile. Thankfully, his teeth had survived this brawl intact.
For once, Vin didn't devour his food, eating it slowly and carefully to make certain that his stomach would not rebel. Ezra followed suit, glad that his own system was receptive to the meal, since the alternative was too painful to contemplate. They both finished at the same time, then leaned back to look at each other's battered faces.
Ezra grinned. We are a sight, aren't we?
No joke, Vin agreed. I think I'm just going to stay here and sleep all day. I hurt too much to do anything else
Ezra said, already eyeing the mattress.
The two boys made their way back to their makeshift bed, lying down with a chorus of pained groans until they finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Vin and Ezra reluctantly put in their requested appearance at Rosie's diner, to alleviate the woman's concerns. Ezra's cold had worsened, robbing him of his voice entirely while his coughing fits grew more frequent and severe, inducing more fussing from the diner's proprietor. They kept their visit short, but by the time they returned to their apartment, Ezra was pale and struggling to contain the coughs that sent pain ripping through his ribcage. Rosie had sent them home with some of her homemade chicken soup, but Ezra turned it down, claiming he wasn't hungry.
The two boys spent the day in much the same way as the one before: napping or reading quietly in their apartment. Neither felt much like going out, especially if it meant running into MacDermott's associates again. Worried, Vin was planning to stay in the rest of the night, to keep an eye on his friend, but Ezra insisted he was fine and didn't need any babysitting, so he went to Antonio's that night as usual, restricting himself to lighter chores in deference to his injured ribs. When he returned, Ezra was sleeping soundly, much to his relief. Treading quietly so as not to disturb the other boy, Vin changed into his sleepwear and crawled into the bed.
It was the middle of the night when Vin awakened suddenly. Tensing, he listened carefully for whatever had disturbed him. Beside him, Ezra moaned and thrashed his head, gasping for breath.
Vin said, leaning over his friend. His frown deepened at the heat he felt coming off of the other boy. Ezra had a fever, but it was his labored breathing that had Vin most concerned. His colds had never sounded that bad before.
Wake up, Ez, Vin said in a loud voice, giving his sleeping friend a shake.
Ezra whispered, looking dazedly at Vin.
Get up, Vin said insistently, slapping Ezra's face gently when it looked like he was going back to sleep. We need to get you to a doctor.
Ezra mumbled incoherently, while Vin struggled to get him dressed in shoes and a coat. Looking at the clock, he grimaced. At twelve-thirty in the morning, the free clinic was closed, leaving him only one option. Retrieving some money from their lock box, Vin pulled on his own coat and guided his ill friend out the door. Down the block was a pay phone, where he put in a call for a taxi. The many bars in the area were still open, so getting a cab to come to the neighborhood wouldn't be too difficult, even at this late hour.
Propping Ezra up against the wall with his shoulder, Vin leaned back and waited for the taxi to arrive.
The emergency room was fairly quiet, typical for a late Sunday night. Vin half-carried Ezra down the hall, ignoring his own pain while he tried to get help for his friend. After settling Ezra into a chair, he approached the nurse's station.
Excuse me, he asked the nurse behind the counter. My brother's sick. He needs to see a doctor.
The nurse looked beyond him to Ezra, who was in the middle of a nasty fit of coughing.
Is someone here with you? she asked as she lifted the telephone.
Our aunt is out of town until tomorrow, Vin said, using their usual cover story. I didn't think he could wait. He's havin' a hard time breathin'.
We'll take care of him, sweetie, the gray-haired woman said kindly. Can you fill out these forms? She handed a clipboard and a pen.
Nodding, Vin went to sit beside Ezra while he worked his way slowly through the forms. A few minutes later, another nurse came out with a wheelchair and loaded Ezra into it.
Vin warned. He may have some busted ribs.
The nurse looked at him in surprise, her eyes narrowing when she took in the bruises on both their faces.
Vin reddened slightly under the scrutiny. We, uh, kind'a got in a fight a couple days ago. Some other guys got mad when we beat em in basketball.
I see, she said with a frown. You boys should know better than that. Fighting doesn't solve anything.
Yes, ma'am, Vin said sheepishly.
Ezra looked around, bewildered by what was happening.
It's okay, Ez, Vin reassured him. They're gonna help you breathe better.
Ezra nodded in understanding as the nurse wheeled him away.
Vin finally finished filling out the paperwork, then settled in to wait. It was almost two in the morning before the doctor came out to see him.
Mr. Standish? the doctor inquired.
Vin replied. Ezra's my half-brother.
The doctor nodded, then said seriously, Your brother's very sick. In addition to two cracked ribs, he has a nasty case of pneumonia. He needs antibiotics, but we cannot give him anything without parental consent.
Vin sighed. This is what he had feared would happen. Usually, if either of them needed medical attention, they would prevail upon one of their adult friends for assistance. Ms. Peterson and Mr. Watson were always willing to help them by pretending to be a relative of some sort. They were never questioned at the free clinic, but here, at the hospital, he had a feeling it would be more complicated. For one thing, neither of them had medical insurance, something their guardians' could do nothing about.
He and Ezra had agreed early on not to involve Rosie in their problems, since she had already done enough for them. Since he had already invented an aunt', that left Ms. Peterson as the only logical choice. Later in the morning, Vin knew he could contact the librarian to portray their aunt, but for now, there was nothing he could do.
My aunt will be back in the morning, Vin said.
We'll have to wait until she arrives, the doctor said with a sigh.
Nodding resignedly, Vin asked, Can I see him?
Of course, the doctor said kindly. This way.
Ezra looked awful. The bruises on his face looked much worse against his pale skin, the fluorescent lighting making the contrast even more obvious. He looked up when Vin entered the room.
Vin said, offering his friend a weak smile. How ya doin'?
Ezra looked at him oddly, his eyes glazed with fever. he croaked hoarsely.
I'm here, Vin said. Just get some rest, okay.
With a small nod, Ezra closed his eyes and instantly fell sleep.
Vin stayed with him until the nurse made him leave fifteen minutes later. He returned to the waiting room and tried to stay awake until he could visit with Ezra again, but despite his best efforts, he soon drifted off. Two hours later, he awakened to a commotion in the hallway. His alarm grew when he saw several medical personnel running into the room where Ezra was being kept. Jumping to his feet, Vin raced down the hall, stopping in the doorway when he saw the doctors and nurses clustered around his friend's bed.
A nurse approached and tried to urge him away from the room, but Vin planted his feet firmly and refused to budge. The nurse returned moments later with a large orderly, and the two of them hauled Vin away from the room despite his best efforts.
Vin pleaded. He's my brother, please!
I'm sorry, son, the nurse said soothingly. But you have to let the doctors work.
Vin shrugged off their hands and paced the waiting room agitatedly until the doctors came out a few minutes later. Hurrying toward them, he asked anxiously, What happened? Is he okay?
Your brother is stable, for now, the doctor began. His airway was blocked for a minute, but we took care of that. He does, however, need treatment as soon as possible so he can keep breathing. Is there anyone else, another relative perhaps, who can take responsibility for him?
Vin shook his head sadly. Not until later, when my aunt comes home. At four in the morning, even Rosie was not available.
I'm sorry, then, the doctor said. We'll just have to wait.
But he's sick! Vin argued. You have to do something!
I'm sorry, but my hands are tied without an adult to give consent, the doctor said regretfully. If he gets much worse, we'll have to call in the child welfare people.
Vin's protest was cut off by a large hand gripping his shoulder.
I'll take responsibility.
Vin stiffened at the sound of the familiar voice.
And you are? the doctor inquired.
Agent Buck Wilmington, the man replied, showing his badge. I believe members of law enforcement have the authority to take responsibility for minors?
That's right, the doctor said, smiling faintly in relief. Will you authorize the necessary treatment for this boy's brother?
Damn right, Buck replied.
the doctor answered. Miss Woods here will get the proper paperwork. He turned to leave. I have a patient to attend to.
Vin stood silently, trying to absorb what had just happened.
You gonna stand there all night? Buck asked, squeezing the bony shoulder under his hand.
Vin pulled out of his grasp and moved to one side of the waiting room, dropping stiffly into one of the uncomfortable chairs.
Buck approached, squatting in front of Vin. What's going on, kid?
Slowly, Vin raised his gaze, noticing for the fist time that JD was with him. What're you doin' here? he finally asked.
Buck chuckled. Well, the kid here, he gestured toward JD, dropped a glass when he went to get some water. Stepped on some glass and cut his foot up pretty good.
JD rolled his eyes. It just needs a few stitches, that's all. He hobbled closer, taking the seat next to Vin's. Looks like you've seen a little bit of action since I last saw you.
Vin shrugged, then winced at the pull on his ribs. Ran into some of MacDermott's friends. They weren't too happy with us.
Buck said. You mean you and your brother?
Did he get hurt in the fight? JD asked. Is that why you're here?
Sort of, Vin said.
Doc says he's got pneumonia, Vin answered reluctantly. He had a bad cold before.
The nurse interrupted then, handing some paperwork to Buck. He scanned it quickly, turning to Vin with raised eyebrows. It says here you're waiting for your aunt?
Vin looked away, knowing that Buck was aware of the truth.
I better give Chris a call, Buck said. He is you legal guardian at the moment.
Vin grimaced, leaning back in his chair. He thought about running, but there was no way he was going to leave Ezra here alone.
Buck stood and returned to the nurse's station to complete the paperwork and call Chris.
Everything will be okay, JD assured Vin.
Vin snorted in disbelief. Larabee would hardly be in a mood to be lenient with him now. Juvenile hall was the only thing he could see in his future, and that was hardly okay.'
Chris will take care of things, JD said, trying hard to convince him. He's real good at that.
The young agent's forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. Why what?
Why would Larabee bother? It was a question that had been bothering him from the start. Why would an ATF agent give a damn about a street rat like him? He was interested in what happened to Digger, but that wasn't enough to explain why he would take a strange kid home with him.
Chris cares, JD said simply with a shrug of his shoulders.
I wouldn't, Vin said softly.
JD stared at him intently. I don't believe that for a minute. Seems to me, you care an awful lot, otherwise you wouldn't be here worrying about your brother.
Vin shrugged, then stood and resumed pacing. What's taking them so long?
Always seems to take forever when someone you care about is in here, JD said sympathetically. I remember one time when Chris nearly got kicked out of here after Nathan and Buck got shot during a bust. He chuckled. He looked like he was ready to rip someone's head off.
Vin smiled weakly, having no trouble picturing Larabee acting like that.
Chris is on his way, Buck said when he returned to his seat.
I ain't leaving. Vin glared at him defiantly.
Nobody's making you go anywhere, Buck said placatingly. Just relax, okay?
Vin gave him a doubtful look, then nodded.
Buck turned to JD. They'll be ready for you in a couple of minutes.
Oh joy, JD said with a groan.
Walking over to the windows, Vin watched the horizon lighten and begin to turn pink with the approach of dawn. Whatever happened, it was the beginning of the end for him and Ezra. It saddened him that they would probably lose everything they had worked toward, but he wouldn't trade his brother's life for anything. They would just have to make some plans and do their best to stick together. Maybe Larabee would even arrange for them to see each other sometimes. He heaved a depressed sigh and rested his forehead on the cool glass, wrapping his arm around his aching ribs.
To say that Buck had been surprised to see Vin Tanner in the emergency room would be an understatement. Concerned for his roommate, he had not noticed the boy until he saw him struggling with the big orderly. Finding the boy had raised some new questions, though, and he knew Chris was going to have a conniption. Seeing the defeated slump of the thin shoulders, he walked over to the windows to stand next to the boy.
Didn't say anything in your records about a brother, he said conversationally.
Vin turned to glare at him and Buck smiled at the spark of defiance he saw in the blue eyes. Vin Tanner had not given up yet.
He your real brother?
Real enough to me, Vin answered brusquely.
Fair enough, Buck said. You hurtin'? He gestured to Vin's arm, which was wrapped tightly around his middle.
Vin replied quickly.
Buck gave him a knowing smile. Then you wouldn't mind picking that up for me. He dropped his pen on the floor.
Glaring at him, Vin bent over slowly, retrieving the plastic pen and handing it to him.
Buck took note of the shallow breathing and the beads of perspiration that dotted the boy's brow. Maybe you ought to sit down... fore you fall down.
'm okay. Vin ducked out of his grasp, immediately gasping in pain as his ribs protested the movement.
That's what I thought, Buck said with a sigh. Come on. Let's have the docs take a look at ya.
Told ya, I'm fine.
You wanna try that one on Chris, be my guest, Buck said with a snort. He ain't quite as easygoin' as I am.
Vin frowned, giving Buck a disbelieving look.
Look, I'll make a deal with you, Buck said seriously. You let the doctors check you out and I'll see about gettin' you in to see your brother. He grinned at the boy. The doctors here tend to be very accommodating when it comes to our little group.
JD added, limping over to join them. Us being such frequent customers, and all.
Our boss, Assistant Director Travis, insists we're his most accident-prone team, Buck added with a laugh. He's probably right.
Vin eyed the hallway leading to Ezra's room for a long minute, then gave a reluctant nod.
Buck didn't need any additional explanation and immediately returned to the nurse's station to arrange for a doctor to see to Vin. The teenager had just left with the doctor when Chris arrived.
What's going on, Buck? Chris demanded tersely. Where is he?
Take it easy, pard, Buck said, gesturing toward the waiting room. Take a load off and I'll fill you in.
Running a hand through his hair, Chris reluctantly took a seat next to his friend. So, tell me.
I brought JD in to get some stitches, Buck began. At his questioning look, he explained, Kid broke a glass and stepped on it. I brought him in for some stitches and spotted the Tanner kid arguing with a doctor.
What's he doing here?
He brought his brother in with pneumonia, Buck answered. Vin was arguing with the doctors because they wouldn't treat him without a parent or guardian's consent. He shrugged. It sounded like the other kid was in a bad way, so I took responsibility for both of
So where is Vin now?
I made a deal with him to have the doctors check him out, Buck explained. Kid took a respectable beating sometime in the last couple of days and it looked like he was in pain.
Any idea what happened?
He told JD that he and the other kid had a run in with MacDermott's bunch, Buck explained. I get the feeling the other kid, this Ezra Standish, is the friend he was protecting when he bashed MacDermott. Course, he's claiming him as his brother.
He doesn't have a brother, Chris replied automatically.
I know, Buck said with a sigh. I asked him about it and he told me Standish was a real enough brother to him.
Chris leaned back in his chair.
Buck said. I figured we can check out this Standish kid back at the office later.
Chris nodded, curious about this new addition to the scenario.
You're gonna have a problem if you try to separate Tanner from Standish, Buck warned. Vin already told me in no uncertain terms that he wasn't leavin'.
He calls him brother' and risks bringing him to the ER – I'd say they're very close friends, Chris said, thinking aloud. I'd probably be hesitant to leave anyone I cared about if they were sick in the hospital, too.
What do you want to do?
Is JD up to going to work today?
Yeah, he'll be fine, Buck assured him.
Good. I want you two to get me whatever you can find about Standish, ASAP, Chris directed. Get it to me here, then I'll figure out what I'm going to do.
You got it, pard, Buck said. Anything else you need?
Chris grinned. Yeah. Get me some coffee. It's too damned early.