A troubled Chris entered the ATF office early the next day. He sighed as he looked around. The whole office was so still, so barren. JD's desk was the way their Kid had left it: messy. There were comic books along with candy wrappers plus a healthy supply of rubber bands to use on Buck. What Chris wouldn't give to see that fresh face, so cocky and full of life, but with a trusting and naïve manner that endeared him to all. The Kid was twenty, twenty for heaven's sake! Meant to live a full and happy LONG life. Sadness threatened to wash over him, and in anger he squished the paper coffee cup in his right hand and then tossed it across the room, not concerned with the hot liquid burning his hand.
"Whoa, Cowboy!" Vin entered the room and stooped down to pick up the crushed cup. "Think you killed it," he tried to deadpan, though saddened by Chris's anguished eyes. "Spilled some on JD's desk."
"Shit." Chris grabbed some Kleenexes from Nathan's desk and tried to mop up some of the coffee.
"No!" Buck yelled from the elevator as he ran to the desk, pushing both Chris and Vin away. "You aren't cleaning off his space! Leave it alone!"
The elevator opened again and three astonished agents got out. "Buck!" Josiah and Nathan, followed by Ezra, tried to pull the three apart.
"They aren't cleaning off JD's desk!" Buck roared. "He isn't dead!"
"Buck!" Chris grabbed his friend and looked into Buck's wild eyes. "I spilled some coffee on his desk. Coffee. Vin and I were trying to wipe it up without damaging JD's stuff. Not clearing it off. Buck!"
Slowly the wildness left Buck's blue eyes and he sagged. "Oh. Oh. Sorry, Chris, Vin . . . it's just that . . ."
Buck swallowed several times and the big man shook and flopped down in his chair, putting his hand down in his hands.
The other men surrounded him, trying to comfort him as Buck sobbed. "Damnit, JD. You can't leave me, little brother. I'm so lost without you. . ."
Vin looked away, a tear slowly leaking from his right eye.
Nathan's face showed strain. Josiah was muttering, they couldn't tell if it was prayers or not.
Ezra, quiet, looked from face to face.
"I can't do this anymore, Chris," Buck said as he lifted his tear-stained face.
"You need help, Buck," Chris consoled. "Get it. Travis has been more than understanding up to now – but we have to have everyone 100% to do our job. I'm sorry."
"I'll give you my resignation," Buck offered, as it if mattered not to him one way or the other.
"No, Buck, take the time off; get help; and then . . ."
Buck was shaking his head. "I'm no use to you. Maybe . . . I need to go away for a while." Buck then got up and left the room before the shocked men could stop him.
"Chris," Nathan began hesitantly. "I've been thinking I should go to medical school. If I just knew more . . . JD . . . and I know part of Buck's problem is with me. If I go . . ."
Josiah sighed as Nathan faltered. "Feel pretty useless myself, Nathan. Maybe I'm too old and should just retire."
Chris and Vin were stunned; horrified at the potential demise of Team 7.
Ezra, usually so composed, was starring in disbelief. "No. That's not what JD would have wanted," he stammered and then Ezra turned and bolted into the breakroom, frantically dialing his phone. "This is Ezra . . . yes, it has to be now before we all fall apart . . . I know it's soon . . . can't wait any longer. I'll get them to the ranch. Thanks."
Ezra shut the phone off and wiped his forehead. "This has to work. Please, please!"