Chapter Text
*** Starting Recovery - Day 1 ***
Vin drew in a deep breath enjoying the feel of the cool fresh air on his exposed face. The rest of his body remained covered under layers of soft clothing and the fleecy warmth of the thick sherpa blanket Nathan had insisted he take with him out on the deck.
The air was chilly, a slight breeze blowing down over the snow covered mountains keeping the temperature on the cooler side for a late spring day despite the bright sunshine in a near cloudless sky. It was a typical Denver day and for Vin, after a week and a half in the hospital, he couldn’t be more grateful.
Snuggling into the cushions on the lounge chair, he fought back the groan that resulted from the flash of pain that seemed to erupt in his chest and spread like a wave throughout his body. His left leg was the last to join in, not wanting to be kept out of the symphony of discomfort plaguing the young agent and he snaked a hand under the blanket to help soothe some of the ache away.
Closing his eyes, Vin waited until his body found equilibrium again, nerve endings and muscles calming as he laid still and gave his abused but healing form a moment to settle. As the pain drifted back to a manageable level, he reopened his eyes and allowed himself another long gaze at the nearby foothills that bordered the western edge of Chris’ ranch.
Soon… he thought to himself. Just a couple of weeks and he’d be back to roaming those woods and trails that brought him so much peace. A little more healing of his abused and injured body and he’d be able to go for rides on Peso or take a long hike, or better still, go climbing up at Black Canyon or Rifle Mountain.
Still, laying here now on Chris’ back deck, soaking in the warmth of the bright midday sun, was a huge improvement compared to being stuck in the hospital. He supposed he couldn’t complain too much. At least this stay he hadn’t been laid up in ICU, medically induced into a coma or had tubes shoved down his throat - although, there’d been plenty of tubes shoved in other places he’d rather not think about.
The doctors had assured him that while the abuse and torture he’d suffered while held captive by DeLeon and his goons had been fairly severe, most of it wouldn’t have any significant lasting impairment. For that, he’d been relieved, and thankful.
The bullet wound to his leg had missed his femur and other than tearing up muscle tissue, wouldn’t be too much of an issue. The long laceration to his collarbone ended up needing a couple dozen stitches but likewise was more a nuisance than anything. And despite the lingering cough from the nearly resolved pneumonia, mostly everything else was just a lot of sore muscles and general painful aches. Unless you counted that tiny little bleed they had to repair from taking one too many punches to his right kidney.
But even that was healing up nicely. Even Nathan said so as he doled out the requisite handful of pills at scheduled intervals, and Vin took grudgingly. And if Nate wasn’t freaking out, then Vin supposed everything must all be okay.
So now, it seemed that other than rest, and of course replacing all the fluids he’d lost from being severely dehydrated and malnourished, which it seemed that each of his teammates had personally taken as their mission to rectify, all was well on its way back to normal.
Except it wasn’t.
The smile that had just been gracing his face was slowly erased as Vin let the memories of that awful week invade his present state of mind. He’d been trying in vain to avoid all thoughts of his time spent as DeLeon’s captive, forcing himself to focus on the here and now and the safety and sanctuary of Chris’ peaceful ranch. But it wasn’t working.
His doctors had recommended therapy, had even gone so far as sending in some shrink to speak with him after he had woke up screaming one night in the hospital and his nurse had to call for an order to sedate him. He supposed it probably wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t have come to and started swinging.
Poor thing didn’t deserve the shiner I give her… Vin thought ruefully.
And worse still, Larabee had been witness to his little “episode.” The blond had been holding his usual bedside vigil but hadn’t been fast enough or more likely, was just afraid of injuring his already horribly mistreated friend more by trying to restrain him.
In the end, even Chris had borne the marks of Vin’s alarming nighttime action. It made it difficult for Vin to look at his best friend every time he was near, knowing that he had been responsible for the now fading marks on Chris’ neck and forearms.
But here he was now, the first full day out of the hospital, if you didn’t count last night after getting discharged late in the afternoon and enduring the long ride out to the ranch. He’d basically collapsed on the couch in the den and had fallen asleep shortly after they’d arrived, waking up only to Buck’s soft call to eat.
Josiah’s chili had never tasted so good and even half awake, he managed to polish off a full bowl with several biscuits and two full glasses of milk before Nathan warned him to take it easy and go slow. JD cleared away the dirtys even as Ezra appeared with a small dish of pudding. Vin accepted it with a broad grin, his mouth watering at the sight of the sweet desert.
Vin smiled again at the memory. Last evening had been the best medicine. Enjoying dinner with the other six, the conversation drifting between Buck’s upcoming date with the new receptionist from payroll to Josiah’s rat problem at the local soup kitchen and eventually to a discussion about the type of rims Ezra needed to replace when he purchased new tires for the Jag. It was a light-hearted and easy conversation, just the way it always was with these men, his brothers, and yet, it was awkward, nobody commenting about the stiff way that Ezra moved as he tried to help Josiah serve the chili. But then no one had said a word about how Buck was managing with one arm in a sling either.
In fact, it was like everyone was going out of their way to avoid any mention about the gunfight with DeLeon and his men or about Vin’s abduction and subsequent captivity. Even Chris, who spoke so little to begin with, had reduced his vocabulary to a few single words of reply when one of the others sent the talk in his direction.
It made Vin nervous, even more self-conscious than he’d already been since being in the hospital. He wasn’t sure if he’d done something wrong or if something else had happened that the others were holding back from telling him. Maybe they were only trying to be overprotective; it wouldn't have been the first time that the other six had basically circled the wagons around him and formed a protective net after he’d been wounded.
He just couldn’t figure out why Chris was being so stand-offish. Usually by now, Larabee would have been in full-on mother hen mode, tucking him in, forcing him to take his medications, admonishing him to take it easy, and just basically watching and worrying over his every move and breath.
But after nearly 24 hours, Chris had been surprisingly absent. Oh, Vin knew he was still around in the house. And he likewise knew - could actually feel , the older man watching him when he wasn’t looking. Yet the usual contact and communication between them was sorely absent.
His smile disappeared once more, replaced by a sad, downcast look that even the bright sunshine couldn’t improve. Vin squirmed slightly and winced as pain flared once again, his eyes crimping tightly and making his mouth curl up in a grimace that barely held back a soft groan.
“Probably be easier on ya’ if you were laying on a soft bed instead of that wood lounge chair.” Chris’ voice suddenly called out from behind him surprising the long-haired man.
Vin moved more slowly, twisting his head to the side and opening his eyes enough to take in the tall, dark figure towering over him. He offered up a wry grin, lifting his right arm to shield his eyes.
“Ya’ ain’t got any sun coming in on my side of the house,” he complained in reply. “And sides’, ya’ ain’t taken down your winter storm windows yet… so cain’t even open ‘em up to get any fresh air. ‘Bout like being back in that damn hospital… all stale and closed in.”
“You’re supposed to be resting… recovering… letting that kidney and those broken ribs heal. Replenishing all the fluids you lost. Takin’ it easy… Any of that sound familiar?”
“Maybe… kinda remember somethin’ ‘bout a concussion and possible mem’ry loss… might have som’thin’ to do with that,” Vin joked back.
Chris loosed a quick chuckle at that and shook his head. “You’re something else, Tanner.”
“What?” Vin asked, his voice pitching higher as he feigned disbelief.
The black-clad blond merely shook his head once again and sighed.
“You haven’t said ten words in the whole time you were in the hospital and now you bitch about there not being any sun or air in your bedroom? Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to finally hear you talking cause’ honestly pard, I was gettin’ worried.”
Vin’s eyes narrowed as he took in Chris’ words. What did the older man mean by saying he wasn’t talking? And why was Chris worried? If anything it should be him that was concerned about Larabee and all the rest of his friends. They were the ones running around with the sudden case of muteness.
He snorted and shook his head before speaking. “Not sure you’ve got it right, Larabee… seems like it’s been y’all that’s been walkin’ on eggshells a late… ev’ryone actin’ like they’s afraid to say somethin’ to me like I might break apart or too fragile t’ handle anythin’.”
He watched as Chris became serious, his eyes taking on a glassiness that threatened tears. He shuffled almost nervously from one foot to another before spotting a nearby adirondack chair and pulling it over and dropping down on the front edge.
“Vin, we need to talk…” he began, raising a hand when Vin started to object. “No… just listen to me for a moment before you blow me off or insist that everything is okay.”
Tanner quieted, his hands moving to fidget apprehensively at the edges of the blanket. Chris was deadpan sincere, the look he usually reserved right before he was either going to chew someone’s ass out or break bad news. Either way, Vin felt certain it wasn’t about to be pleasant.
“Yeah… okay… go ahead,” he acquiesced, feeling his stomach starting to knot.
He watched with growing dread as Chris looked to consider his next words before immediately speaking.
“What exactly do you remember about being in the hospital?” Larabee asked initially.
Vin considered the question for a moment. Why was Chris asking him this? Had something bad happened that he didn’t know about or didn’t remember? Surely it couldn’t be too serious since all the guys were here and seemed okay. He’d been discharged with relatively little fanfare so it must not be anything to do with his injuries.
He thought back to the past week or so. Nothing immediately came to mind beyond the usual monotony of medical personnel traipsing in and out of his hospital room on a regular basis, everyone poking or prodding at him, asking him how he was feeling or wanting to know what he needed.
Of course the guys were a regular memory too. While he couldn’t recall the first couple of days, assuming that had to do with his post-surgical recovery and just being flat worn to the bone from the abuse and neglect he’d suffered the week prior, he did remember that at least one of the six was at his side nearly every waking moment once he came out from the surgery.
And of course, Chris was a near constant fixture. Rarely a moment passed that the lean blond wasn’t present when he was awake. Vin supposed he wouldn’t have known if Larabee had left while he was asleep and considering that Chris had on different clothes, he figured there must’ve been a few times his friend had taken off to shower and catch some sleep for himself. And if Chris had left, then there must not have been anything too awful going on… right?
Even so, Vin couldn’t help the nagging feeling of dread that was filling him as he looked up and met his best friend’s concerned gaze.
“I guess I just remember the usual,” he offered tentatively. “You know… bunch of docs and nurses comin’ and goin’... always pokin’ at me… you n’ the boys always bein’ there wi’ me… bad food o’ course…”
Chris matched his brief chuckle at the last comment but it quickly faded away and Vin knew there was something else that he was missing. Something that Chris was reluctant to tell him.
He waited, watching as Chris seemed to struggle over how he was going to break some sort of awful news to him. Swallowing thickly, Vin could feel the tension pouring off the older man.
“Whatever it is… just spit it out Larabee…” he quietly demanded, his breathing picking up as his anxiety increased. “Not doin’ either of us any good to be sittin’ on whatever it is your holdin’ back.”
Chris glanced down at his hands so tightly folded together there between his knees and drew in a long breath before he finally spoke.
“Vin… how many days do you actually remember being in the hospital?”
The young agent blinked in confusion as he considered the question.
“Y’all said I was there a bit more n’ a week… rescued me from that bastard on Friday, got released yesterday, which was Wednesday… today’s Thursday… right? So pushin’ on two… maybe?”
Larabee was shaking his head. “No Vin… I’m not asking you what you’ve heard everyone tell you… I’m asking you how many of those days do you actually remember anything about? How many do you remember eatin’ breakfast or dinner? Or do you remember which days that me or one of the guys came up to see you? Specific things on specific days? That’s what I’m talking about…”
Even more puzzled now by the oddity of the question Vin could only stare back at his friend and the stark seriousness on Chris’ face. He knew there was something behind Larabee’s odd questioning, he just didn’t know what.
Concentrating, he tried to think back over the past week. Closing his eyes, vague snippets of memory flashed like quick movie trailers. He could hazily recall images of a petite brunette nurse with a warm smile coming and going as she took his vitals or injected things into his IV. In other instances, he saw one or the other of his teammates standing or seated by his bedside, sometimes speaking to him, other times just sitting quietly or doing something on their phones.
He was sure he remembered trays coming and going with disgusting looking bowls of bland flavored broth and plain flavored jello or other non-descript foods. He couldn’t really recall actually eating any of the tasteless offerings but then a flash of recollection seemed to create a picture of Chris spooning something like oatmeal into his mouth.
Vin shook his head, opening his eyes to stare back up at his best friend. Nothing made sense. He couldn’t really call up any specific day other than perhaps yesterday when he was discharged. Sure, there seemed to be some brief snatches here and there, but nothing was distinct, no whole day came to mind. It was almost as if he’d been drugged and everything about his time in the hospital was an enormous blur.
“What happened to me?” he asked, his voice weak with fear.
Chris sighed deeply and his hands that been so tightly clenched together were now apart as one came up to run through tousled blond hair.
“Do you need something to drink?” he asked, obviously stalling but equally concerned about the mental and physical health of the injured young man.
“No dammit’!” Vin snapped back. “Please Chris… just get on with it. Did I do something? Did I hurt someone? Tell me…”
“Okay… okay… Vin. I’m sorry. I’ve just been so worried.”
Vin fumbled more with the blanket, his fingers nervously pulling at the fluffy pieces of lambs wool. His mind was racing in anticipation of what Chris was about to reveal, conjuring all manner of horrible acts he might have committed.
“Vin, you don’t remember the past several days because the doctors basically kept you sedated the entire time you were in there… and when you weren’t medicated… well… you were pretty much… well… you were catatonic.”
The injured man looked up in disbelief. How could that be? He remembered things from being in the hospital. He knew he had interacted with the doctors and nurses; had talked with Buck and JD and Ezra when they had visited. How could he have been catatonic? And why would they have had to sedate him? It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t understand…”
“The first night after surgery… you came to from the anesthesia and you just started screaming, lashing out, no one could get near you, touch you… it was like you thought DeLeon still had you. You weren’t here with us… you were still back there with him and his crew… and you thought they were still hurting you,” Chris explained.
Vin recalled that. Throwing punches, accidentally hitting the pretty, brown-haired nurse, hitting Chris… but those were just flashes of memory. He wasn’t crazy, he hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.
“We couldn’t get you to calm down… I couldn’t get you to calm down,” Chris continued. “So they sedated you. And we thought that was the end of it. The surgeon just blamed it on the combination of medications they used during surgery and anesthesia. The only problem was, every time you woke up, it was the same thing. You were back there… with DeLeon… reliving all the horrible things he’d done to you… fighting back.”
Vin was crushed. He couldn’t remember behaving as Chris suggested he had and yet he knew his best friend wasn’t lying. He glanced down at his hands, now lying open on his lap. His hands and knuckles weren’t bruised but he could feel a slight tenderness that reinforced the veracity of Chris’ words.
“I wouldn’t …” he softly pled.
“It wasn’t your fault, pard… you didn’t know what you were doing. And you didn’t hurt anyone… That’s why the docs kept you sedated. I guess after the third time they just figured it was safer for you even… to keep you quiet and make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. But even then, they couldn’t keep you under all they time, so gradually, they eased up on the medications and tried some other stuff… problem was, then you just stopped reacting at all… you didn’t talk… you didn’t make eye contact… it was like you weren’t even in there.”
Vin ran his hand through his hair, only barely restraining himself from roughly tugging on the long untamed tressed. “What’s wrong with me?” He caught the grimace Chris couldn’t manage to hide.
“You were tortured Vin… held captive and hurt for no other reason than DeLeon was a sick bastard that got off on watching someone be physically and mentally abused. You survived whatever hell that fucking prick put you through for seven long days… and I’m pretty sure, knowing you, that you managed to give it back to him and his goons for most of it… didn’t you?”
Vin answered with a weak smile.
“Yeah, I’m sure you did. Can just picture that smartass mouth of yours drove DeLeon crazy until he found even worse and more painful ways to beat your ass into submission… probably even then, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.”
“ ‘Had a vein that throb’d a bit like you do…” Vin joked but quickly became sullen once again.
There was a long moment of silence as Vin’s mind wrapped itself around all that Chris had told him. For his part, Chris merely sat and watched his friend quietly.
“I’m all messed up… ain’t I?” He asked sullenly, almost afraid of the answer, a lone tear trickling down his cheek.
Chris was shaking his head even as Vin was finishing the question.
“You were hurt… tortured… we can only guess at what all they did to you and I’m not asking unless you feel like tellin’. No one expects you to come out of that without needin’ a bit of help. And I’m here to tell ya’, I’ll do anything to help ya’, Vin… I was just so scared… the way you were before… I thought we’d lost you… I thought I’d lost my best friend...all over again.”
He heard the words, even vaguely absorbed the sentiment behind them, but Vin was fast sinking into despair. Here he’d been thinking that the nightmare was behind him when all along he’d just been fooling himself. He’d just been some mental case that Chris and the others thought was so far damaged they might not get him back.
And maybe they hadn’t… Vin admitted.
“Hey… look at me!” Chris gently commanded as Vin felt him lightly place a hand on his shoulder.
He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. His emotions were in turmoil as his mind was swept up in a myriad of memories and emotions. Guilt and shame battled away with pain, humiliation and confusion. He didn’t trust what he thought he knew and worse, couldn’t rely on his own head to reassure him that what he thought he knew and remembered was actually true.
And then there was Chris.
Vin hated that the one person he so desperately relied on, had spent countless hours silently praying would come and save him and yet feared that in fact, both he might and might not, was now telling him that after exhausting all efforts to reclaim him from the clutches of a manic that maybe it had all been for nothing. Maybe the damage had been done and he was a lost cause?
All the training, all the time spent in SERE, even the months he’d spent as a lone sniper; none of that had been able to prepare him for what he’d been subjected to by Roberto DeLeon. He was weak… worthless after all.
“Vin… hey… don’t do this… don’t leave me again…”
Leave again? His mind answered. Don’t think I was ever back…
Larabee was shaking him now. Not very forcefully, but enough that it hurt, and Vin gasped aloud. His eyes flew open and Chris was in front of him, straddled across the lounge chair, nearly astride his lap. His hands were on both of Vin’s shoulders, his grip firm but not rough as he held onto the top of his arms.
But it was Chris’ face that really caught Vin’s attention. No longer did the ATF leader look as though he was about to bear bad news or rip someone a new ass. The seriousness of earlier was replaced by fear, an expression rarely if ever noted on Larabee.
His green eyes were wide and expressive, and he looked as though he was bordering on panic himself.
“Vin… please!” he begged.
The sharpshooter blinked owlishly and reached up with his uninjured hand to clasp the forearm of his best friend.
“I’m sorry…” he softly squeaked out.
Chris paused, but he didn’t move, didn’t release his grasp.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, pard. Just don’t shut me out… okay. Talk to me… keep talking to me…”
Vin wasn’t sure what to say.
“I… I don’ know…”
“It’s okay… take it easy… just breathe… We’ll get through this together... I just can’t lose you again… I won’t lose you again, Vin. No matter what it takes. You have to understand… that first week that you were gone… I thought I would die… getting that tape and seeing what they had done to you… not knowing if you were still alive or if we’d even get you back before DeLeon sold you off to the cartel. There’s so much you don’t know about what happened while you were gone…”
Vin watched as Chris moved away and slumped down to sit on the edge of the lounger. He looked wiped out and Vin was certain that his ordeal had taken a toll on Chris and the others nearly as much as it had on him.
“I was staring down into that dark abyss again… not sure if any of the guys were doin’ much better and I sure as hell wasn’t there for Buck or Ez or any of them. Seemed like things were blowin’ up in our faces at every turn… and all I could think was that I’d let you down… failed you.”
Chris paused and Vin could only sit and absorb the powerful emotion held in his best friend’s recitation.
“Then, even after we got you back… you were in such bad shape. You were hurt in so many ways and even though the docs thought you’d recover… when everything happened that night after surgery… well, it was almost like I lost you all over again. The worst part of all this is I feel like it never should have happened in the first place.”
That brought his head up and he looked at the stalwart team leader with an expression of shock.
“What’re ya’ talkin’ about? Ya’ couldn’t have known this was gonna’ happen,” Vin insisted.
“No? I should’ve been alert to the possibility that DeLeon would have tried something. I should have watched out over all of you men… we knew he wouldn’t lie low, especially after we busted him and took most of his weapons. Hell, Josiah profiled him prior to Ezra and Nathan going under. We knew he wanted to move up in the underworld… the cartel made sense.”
“Yeah, but you never knew he would try for one of us… no one would’a thought he was that batshit crazy… or that he was into torture n’ tryin’ to impress Sinaloa.”
Chris shook his head. Vin pressed on, unaccepting that his friend would be willing to shoulder the responsibility or worse - guilt - for what had happened to him.
“This ain’t your fault, Chris. No way in hell… and no matter what happens to me… no matter how fucked up I am from all this… the one thing that’s for sure is I wouldn’t have ever a’ made it out of that place if it hadn’t been for you.”
Larabee snorted in denial. “I wasn’t at that warehouse by myself, Vin. And if you care to read the autopsy report… wasn’t even my bullet that proved fatal for DeLeon.”
“Not what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Yeah… I mean I’m forever grateful to y’all for savin’ my ass from that bastard… but I’m talkin’ ‘bout before then… when he had me and was beat’n and hurtin’ on me.”
Vin saw the confusion on Chris’ face and he continued on.
“He had his men do some pretty awful things… mostly just beat on me till they couldn’t anymore. But after a while when that didn’t make me yell or scream, ol’ Robbie got more creative. He took a few pages out of Gitmo’s book… had a guy who was pretty good at the torture game…”
Chris choked back a gasp and Vin glanced up in time to see his friend’s face pale slightly.
“What are we talking about here, Vin?” the blond asked apprehensively.
Vin debated revealing the specific details. It wouldn’t help him to relive the nightmare and it certainly wouldn’t make Chris feel any better to learn what Vin had endured. Still, he knew if he didn’t tell, the determined man would just be driven to mad lengths, his imagination only filling in the blanks with all sorts of horrors.
“They started with their version of waterboarding… weren’t the first time I’d had it done to me… thought I’d be able to take it… but I was so thirsty and it didn’t help that they just kept on wailin’ on my ribs and guts…” Vin chuckled and then added. “Guess I got the last laugh… I puked all over Robbie’s fancy shoes… boy was he pissed.”
It made Chris grin, if only briefly before his face once more turned cold with an expression mixed of anger and guilt.
“What else did they do to ya’, Vin?”
He shook his head, not wanting to reveal more of the details, knowing that Chris would only used the information to punish himself even further.
“No… doesn’t matter no more…”
“But it does! If you’re gonna get past this… if I’m gonna be able to help you… it’s gotta come out. You can’t bury it inside… it’s just gonna keep eatin’ away at you, Vin. Havin’ you wake up screamin’... so torn up inside that you can’t function… what happens when the stress is just too much and you…”
Vin glared back, his eyes flashing blue depths filled with incredulity. How could Chris think that of him. Did his best friend really believe that he was so mentality broken that he’d consider…
“What… say it Chris… you think I’ll eat a bullet?” he snapped back. “You really think I’m that messed up then?” Vin threw back the blanket that covered him and pushed himself out of the lounge chair, ignoring his body’s sharp reminders of pain as he rose to his feet.
Anger and denial forced his feet to carry him, albeit slower than usual, over to the edge of the deck where he leaned against the railing, one hand gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white from the stress. He heard Chris’ approach as the the older man came to stand beside him, their shoulders brushing against one anothers.
Vin considered pulling away, but in truth, he wanted the contact, needed it actually. Despite his bitter response, he was mere seconds from falling apart. His heart was hammering inside his chest and it was taking everything he had to keep his breathing from turning into ragged gasps. His lungs were burning and for a moment, it was almost as if he were suffocating under that damnable black hood… or being drowned under a deluge of water.
“I’m sorry…” Chris began. “This wasn’t how I wanted this to go. I only want to help you… whatever you need… however I can.”
His whole body was shaking and not just from muscles that were protesting the pain and inability to continue holding him upright. Mentally, Vin was giving in, his physical weakness making him even more unable to withstand the psychological onslaught of everything he’d learned this afternoon. Part of him wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and just let the world go on without him. He wanted so desperately to forget, to put everything behind him like it had never happened. But deep down he knew that could never be.
Still, another part of him just wanted to scream and rage and lash out at the world. He was sick of being Life’s punching bag, always feeling as though if there was someone to get beat on, he was the one wearing the sign that said “right here.” He’d dealt with it as a child and here he was dealing with it as an adult once again. He’d never asked to be the sacrificial lamb, always taking the hits, and yet somehow he was the one always standing in front of the bullets or stepping up to prevent another from being hurt.
Because you’d rather it be you than any of them…
Because you couldn’t live with yourself if one of them got hurt or worse…
Because nothing that DeLeon or anyone could do to you would EVER be worse than the guilt that would consume you if one of them should fall…
He felt Chris’ arm drape around his shoulder, holding him and supporting him both physically and emotionally. Vin let himself sink into the strong comfort that arm provided. He drew in a calming breath, letting it settle the almost painful emotions that had been threatening to erupt and even leaned slightly towards Chris.
“The last day, maybe it was longer…” he began, his voice still shaking with emotion. “It was pretty hard to tell time there ya’ know … But, he had this little fella… was real sharp with using ropes and such. After the time with water, they nearly drowned me, had me beggin’ at one point to stop… course then, after I chucked on DeLeon’s shoes, he brought in this guy, Dante’. Musta’ passed out cause’ I woke up and he had me tied worse than a prize calf at the rodeo. Military calls ‘em stress positions… and this bastard was good at ‘em. Wasn’t too bad at first… jus’ uncomfortable. But then, he’d add more ropes, pull ‘em tighter, make it so I couldn’t move my head, or take a deep breath or even twitch my fingers.”
Vin heard Chris draw in a sharp breath and felt his arm pull him snugger ever so slightly.
“I was just so tired and hurtin’ by this point. Not really sure how long I’d been there… like I said, was no way in tellin’... and I’s so tied up that parts of me couldn’t even feel no more… thought I was gonna’ lose ‘em if I even made it out…” he continued, struggling to recount the experience, even then phantoms of pain reminding him of the agony he’d suffered while being held trussed up in the torturous position.
“And DeLeon, he never let up… always threatenin’ that you and the boys wouldn’t save me… couldn’t...that he was gonna give me over to the cartel… even had his men comin’ in and threatenin’ to do all sorts of other bad thins’...” Vin felt Chris’ entire body go rigid with his last comment, knowing what he hadn’t said only hid the horror of what had likely been inflicted.
“But I knew you were comin’... could hear ya’... in here…” Vin quickly continued, reaching up and tapping a finger to his temple. “And in here” He repeated the gesture by patting his chest.
“Your voice was clear as a bell… tellin’ me to hang on… to not give up… no matter what.”
Vin turned his head to look at his best friend, forcing the eye contact.
“I couldn’t… wouldn’t have made it without you , Chris…”
Larabee’s green eyes were misty with emotion as he returned Vin’s gaze. He looked as though he wanted to speak, his mouth opening but no words coming forth.
“And I know… no matter how messed up I am now… no matter what’s gonna happen today or tomorrow or next week… You’re gonna be here… tellin’ me to hang on… to not give up, no matter what…”
Chris’ arm pulled Vin’s unresisting frame around so that the he was facing the slightly taller blond. The young sniper could see that the older man was smiling now, emotion not filled with laughter but perhaps more that of relief and the beginnings of his own healing. Vin wasn’t there yet himself, not even close, but he’d made the first step.
“You---never---have---to---doubt---that!” Larabee spoke succinctly, each word punctuated so that Vin couldn’t help but understand the pledge being made.
“I gotta believe it,” Vin replied back, “It’s what keeps me grounded… keeps me… here .”
Chris pulled him tight, nearly holding all his weight as Vin let himself sag against the strength and security that his best friend offered.
“This will always be here for you, Vin. I’ll always be here…”
Vin closed his eyes and let his mind drift. This time images of hiking trails through the mountains, of relaxing rides atop Peso and beside Chris on Pony, and of humor-filled Friday nights at the Saloon with the guys came as welcome memories. He knew it would take time, likely quite a while, to erase the damage done. But unlike his days in captivity, he wasn’t alone.
He’d never be alone again.
* finis*