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The Gemini Man	By : ladyinkslinger Category: M through R > Magnificent Seven Views: 2193 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Magnificent Seven, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Gemini Man
- 2-Chapter 2 of 2
- 1
- 2
The Gemini Man

by Kathy B.

It was 5:30 and the others had left for the day when Vin walked into Chris's office and dropped into a chair. He idly watched the bowed blond head, waiting calmly as Chris made some notes. At last the team leader looked up.

"Still here? Don't you have a party to go to?"

Vin shrugged. "I'm not much fer parties."

Chris arched an eyebrow. "I know, but I thought you wanted to go to this one."

"Kind of. I didn't expect to run into Jared again, or else I wouldn't be going. Believe me, Chris, when I saw him, I was hopin' he wouldn't recognize me."

Chris grinned. "With that hair? You must be kidding."

Vin ignored that. "He was just so insistent, y'know? I felt kinda sorry for 'im. He wasn't a bad guy, really, but he never had many friends."

"Sorry or morbidly curious?"

"Both probably. I don't reckon there'll be many people there, but I'm only stayin' a few minutes." Vin brightened suddenly. "Unless you got some work around here that needs doin'. Some paperwork maybe?"

"YOU? ASKING to do paperwork?" Chris shook his head. "Even if I had any to give you, I wouldn't. I remember the last time. You know, a report has to include more details in it than just 'here's my extension if you need to know anything.'"

"One time," Vin muttered. "I did that one time." He came around the back of the desk, leaned over Chris's shoulder, and lightly nuzzled his ear. "You sure you don't need me to stay?"

Chris grinned. "He's your ex-roommate. You should go."

"Why don't you come along, then?"

"For moral support?" Vin reddened at that and Chris shook his head. "You don't need me there. Just go, reminisce, have a good time." He paused, his expression turning serious. "Just come back safely, understand?"

Vin smiled. "No problemo."

Vin leaned against the wall near a table of food, listening to the music and trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. He hadn't seen his former roommate, Jared Graham, since a year after Vin had moved out. Now he was distinctly uncomfortable as he looked around the room. Most of the other people there, as it turned out, were friends of Jared's current roommate, Marco, a tall, dark Hispanic. From what he could tell, Vin was the only 'friend' of Jared's in the room.

He watched as Jared flitted around the room like a hummingbird on steroids, refreshing drinks and laughing too loudly and too self-consciously at every remark. Marco stood next to Vin as he added some more ice to his glass.

"Nice party," Vin said politely.

Marco turned to him suddenly, his eyes narrowing for a moment as if trying to place him. Vin felt increasingly like a party-crasher under the scrutiny. A brief moment of recognition sparked in Marco's eyes and his features softened.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks."

"Lived here long?"

Marco shook his head. "Not long." His eyes followed Jared, who had just swanned past, then he muttered, "Not much longer either."

"Why's that?"

The taller man looked at Vin. "You lived with him for awhile, right?"

Vin nodded.

"Then you know." Marco turned and walked away as one of his friends called him over.

Vin watched him go. No, he didn't know. At least he wasn't sure. He remembered Jared as being a bit too...clingy? Needy? Possessive, maybe. Whatever it was, the relationship had taken a strange turn from roommates or even buddies. It had got to a point where Jared would ask him where he'd been if he came in late. Or ask who he was talking to on the phone. Vin had finally taken to meeting his dates somewhere else. Jared didn't approve of most of them, wasn't at all shy about saying so, and wasn't above scaring them off any subtle way he could. Vin
had tried many times to talk with him about it, but Jared would get depressed and hurt, insisting it was only because he cared. "I'm a sensitive guy, Vin. You know that. And I care about you."

That had made Vin uncomfortable at the time, but he'd stayed. When he joined Chris's team, though, the increased salary meant he could afford to live on his own, something he'd always wanted anyway. Jared seemed very angry at the time, but he'd insisted it was because he was losing a good roommate who always paid his share on time.

Over time, Vin had almost forgotten just how bad it had really been. Coming here now was causing those memories to trickle back, and he really wanted to leave - more and more. He wished Chris was with him.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jared. "Hey! Having fun?"

Vin smiled. "Sure. Why not?"

"It's been too long, Vin. You still with that old guy you left me for?"

The sharpshooter bristled. "I didn't leave you for him. I just moved out, Jared, that's all. And that 'old guy' has a name."

Jared waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know but I forget."

"It's Chris."

"Right, right. Chris. Got it," said Jared disinterestedly, his eyes roaming the room as party guests stopped by the table to replenish glasses and plates. "Let ol' Jared get you a fresh drink, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Jared began to turn to the table, his back to him. Vin waited, still wanting to leave but not like this.

"Jared, I don't--"

The shorter man turned around, a fresh glass in his hand. "At least TRY this, please? I just invented it 2 weeks ago and I've had no one to try it out on."

"What is it?"

"A secret combination of tropical fruit juices, mostly. Taste it and see if you can guess."

"Jared, I--"

"Aw, c'mon. For old time's sake? One for the road."

Vin relented at the eagerness in his eyes. "Just one." He drank it down quickly. It tasted a little too sweet with a bitter, metallic tinge to it. "It's pretty good. Weird after-taste, though."

Jared grinned. "Exotic, isn't it? Hey, Pete, have you met Vin?"

The guest who had just moved beside him looked up. "What? Oh, no. No, I don't think so."

"Pete, here, is a realtor."

"Investment banker," Pete corrected.

"Of course," Jared grinned. "Vin's an ATF agent."

Pete looked at him, impressed. "Really?"

Vin felt his cheeks get hot. "Yeah, well--"

Jared's voice grew louder. "And he has the sweetest deal you can imagine. He lives with his boss--"

"Jared," Vin warned in a low voice. "I don't really live with--"

Pete looked from one to the other. "That's great, all right. If you'll excuse me, I see my wife signaling me. Best go rescue her, you know?"

Jared clapped a hand on Vin's shoulder. "Can't you take a little ribbing? You have changed, Vin Tanner. C'mon! This is Jared! I mean, c'mon, the guy has a huge ranch. I could never offer you a huge, beautiful home and a job like he did. I didn't stand a chance."

"You and I never had that kind of relationship. We were roommates."

"We didn't have to be. But hell, he offers you all that just so you'll sleep with him..."

"He doesn't--"

"Oh, please. An old guy like that? He's using you, you know that? He offers you a home and a job and who knows what else, just to get a nice-lookin', young guy like you to sleep with him."

"Just stop!" Vin could feel his anger rising and something else - a headache that seemed to buzz in his brain. He knew Jared was baiting him, though he didn't know why. What bothered him more was the fact Jared's voice filtered through the haze and started to make some kind of sense.

"I'm not blaming you for taking the opportunity," Jared continued in quiet, even tone. "As long as you do what you're told, he gives you everything and he gets laid. But what happens when he wants someone else? Have you thought about what'll happen to you the day you stop being his 'boy?'"

"It's not like that," Vin said hotly. The buzz in his head was growing louder, until Jared's voice was all he could hear.

"Vin, when are you gonna realize that one day he's gonna replace you with someone younger? And he'll probably offer your replacement the same things he offered you. I just don't want to see you hurt is all. HE's the one in control. HE's the one taking advantage you, treating you like a whore..."

Jared's words were bothering him and in ways he didn't understand. Part of his mind saw the logic of Jared's words, even as another part of his mind tried to ignore it. An image of Chris filled his mind and it only made him angrier. His pulse thrummed in his ears, as if providing a backbeat to Jared's voice. He could feel sweat on his forehead and yet he wasn't even warm.

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" He looked around, noticing the other partygoers staring at him. "I'm gonna go..." He put down his drink and started for the door as the buzzing of his headache filled his brain, nearly deafening him. "I gotta work tomorrow," he snapped as he stepped out the apartment door and headed for the elevator. "Later, maybe."

"Oh, we'll be in touch."

Vin barely heard it, but something about the way Jared said that sent a chill up Vin's spine as the elevator doors closed.

Vin should've gone home. Damn that Jared! And yet, the guy was right. It was clear now. Considering the cotton candy that was slowly filling his skull, it was the only thing that was crystal clear. Chris had been using him like some boy-toy, a puppet on a string. What hadn't he seen it before? Chris was laughing at him, bribing him with a job and sex, letting him stay at the ranch so much, it almost felt like he lived there. 'Patronizing,' Ezra would call it. Acting like he loved him when all the time he was just keeping him around until the
day came when Chris Larabee found someone else to satisfy his desires.

Vin's anger - and the strange, dull, near-blinding headache - made it increasingly difficult to see the road. His roiling emotions made him speed up the motorcycle, however, till the lines on the pavement blurred into one continuous stripe.

He'd show Larabee! He'd show everyone who was mocking him behind his back. He'd wipe the arrogant smiles off their faces. Then they'd see that the only person in charge of Vin Tanner was Vin Tanner.

He took the next right and headed for Chris Larabee's ranch.

Vin quietly let himself into the darkened house. He walked straight to the bedroom, a small part of him thinking he should head for the bathroom and take something for this strange migraine, but the moment he got to the doorway, he stopped.

Chris was asleep, the top sheet twisted around him. He looked so peaceful, Vin thought. And why not? He had it all, didn't he. Had him.

His mind raced, tumbling over a confused jumble of thoughts. On the one hand, the sight of Chris, in bed in nothing but his boxers made Vin's blood rush to his groin. Yet somehow the heat there also fueled his rage against the man who toyed with his feelings.

The heated heaviness at the apex of his thighs only reminded him with increasing intensity of how dependent he had become on the man sleeping, unaware, before him. This was his boss, his lover, and often his refuge. When had it happened? Why had it happened? Vin's anger turned on himself, too, and those so-called friends who knew about this relationship and let it happen anyway. He scowled, feeling his blood pump noisily through his body, the thundering nearly drowning out his heartbeat. And yet through it all, there was Jared.

He's using you, you know that? He offers you a home and a job and who knows what else, just to get a nice-lookin', young guy like you to sleep with him...

Vin tried to shut out the voice but couldn't.

What happens when he wants someone else? Have you thought about what'll happen to you the day you stop being his 'boy?'

A tiny voice reminded him that this was Chris. That Chris loved him and would never do that to him. But it was muffled by the pounding of his blood, the heat in his groin, and the soft, almost mocking tone of Jared.

His churning emotions began to coil tighter and tighter...

With Vin gone to his old roommate's party, Chris didn't expect to see him until tomorrow. Chris had made it an early night, stripping down to his boxers, crawling into bed and falling asleep. He awoke suddenly, feeling like someone was in the room with him.

"Vin?"

"Yeah?" muttered a voice in the darkness.

Chris reached up and turned on the lamp. "Didn't have a good time after all, eh?" He frowned at Vin as the sharpshooter moved toward him. Vin's eyes were fever-bright and he appeared to be full of anger. At who or what, Chris wasn't quite sure. Vin seemed to be angry at him, but Chris couldn't imagine why. Vin had been fine, albeit reluctant, when he'd left for the party. "You been drinkin'?"

"None of your business. I'll do whatever I damn well want to without permission from YOU...DAD," he sneered.

Chris looked at him in surprise. "What's the matter with you?"

"Maybe I'm just seein' th' truth for the first time."

"Mind tellin' me what you're talkin' about? Are you mad at me about something?"

"Why should I be mad at you?" Vin demanded sarcastically. "You offer me your nice, big home and a job..."

Vin's manner was starting to irritate him. Chris had never known him to be a mean drunk, but yet Vin didn't seem to actually be drunk. What the hell was wrong with Vin? Whatever was going on, he sure wasn't himself. If he was drunk, then he needed to sleep it off, and it couldn't happen soon enough to suit Chris.

"Look, Vin, I don't know what's got into you, but whatever it is, maybe you oughta sleep it off and we can talk about it at work."

Vin took a step slowly towards Chris.

"That's how it is, isn't it. As long as I do what I'm told, you give me everything and you get laid. But what happens when you want someone else? What'll happen to me the day I stop being your 'boy?'"

Chris stared. This man was like a total stranger to him, and one he didn't like. "Go sleep it off before you say something you'll regret."

"I don't need to take orders from you!"

"You're starting to annoy me, Tanner," Chris warned. "Stop acting like a jackass and get some damn sleep!"

"What's the matter, Larabee? Couldn't you get a young guy to sleep with you any other way?" Vin was shaking all over as he stood above Chris.

Chris felt as if he'd been slapped. Vin couldn't really BELIEVE what he was saying, could he?

"That's it," he said at last through clenched teeth. He quickly rolled out of the bed on the other side and landed cat-like on his feet. He came around the bed to grab Vin and subdue him. Vin lashed out in a side kick. Chris tried to avoid it, but lost his balance in the narrow space between the bed and the wall. Vin's foot caught him in the side of the head and Chris dropped to all fours, striking his head against the nightstand. Still on his knees, he turned away from the nightstand, Vin's loud, angry voice in his ears.

"I didn't NEED to be with you! And I don't need you NOW!"

Vin's fist connected with the side of his face. He tasted blood. Something was very wrong with Vin and deep down it scared him. All his instincts were screaming to retaliate, but this was clearly not Vin and Chris was afraid to really hurt him.

"Vin--STOP--!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Vin was shrieking. "You don't OWN me!"

Vin moved in and Chris frantically, dizzily, tried to crawl across the bed to get away from the crazed young man. Vin was on top of him in a flash, screaming.

"You think you're so smart! I'll show you who's smart! I'll show you who's in charge!" He savagely grabbed at Chris, ripping his briefs in one forceful move.

Chris tried to fight him, but much of his energy was focused on just trying to stay conscious. Had it been anyone else but Vin, Chris would probably have half-killed him by now. He had seen Vin drunk many times before but had never known him to be this...this...psychotic. Vin clearly wasn't himself. Wasn't at all himself and Chris was afraid to hurt him in this condition. All he wanted to do right now was protect himself from Vin's assault, hoping Vin would pass out soon, even as the young man's fingers wrapped around his throat.

He struggled to get loose from Vin's grasp, but the lack of oxygen was making it difficult. All the sharpshooter's weight now pinned him across the bed. His forearm was pressed against the back of Chris's neck, forcing his face against the mattress.

"I'll show YOU," Vin was muttering. "I'll show everybody!"

Chris felt Vin fumbling with something on top of him. He heard Vin's fly unzip, followed by a muttered curse. He screamed as suddenly a thick, blunt object stabbed into his anus, searing pain threatening to rip his body in two. Chris clawed at the bedclothes in a futile attempt to escape, as Vin thrust himself brutally into him, again and again.

Vin's rantings had turned into nothing more than animal grunts and growls as he increased his pace. With a triumphant howl, he climaxed into the blond beneath him. Chris was rapidly losing his grip on consciousness as he felt his attacker withdraw from his body and leave the room muttering and cursing.

Chris lay there, his eyes closed as he dizzily concentrated on breathing. His whole body felt as if it were on fire. He was afraid to move, afraid that something still intact would tear.

He half-crawled, half-dragged himself painfully toward the phone on the nightstand, his head in a dizzy, whirling agony. His shaking fingers groped for the speaker button and the speed dial. He gasped weakly from his aching throat.

"Nathan?...Help me..."

It seemed like an eternity later when Chris heard the front door open. He hoped it wasn't Vin because he knew he wasn't up for another battle, but he'd sure as hell try if he had to.

"Chris?" Nathan entered the room and set down his medical bag. "You're damn lucky I got caller ID or I wouldn't have known--"

He stopped, taking in the scene. Chris lay on his stomach, the sheet gathered at his hips. He was breathing hard, the remaining bed clothes in disarray. There were scratches and bruises on the half-naked body.

Nathan pulled back the sheet and drew a slight breath as he immediately noted the blood. Without a word, the ex-medic snapped on a pair of latex gloves and began to gently, expertly examine him. Chris gasped loudly as Nathan gently probed around his anus. Finally, he helped Chris onto his back as Chris gasped and moaned softly with each movement.

"From what I can see, you got some bruises and scratches. I didn't find any tears, but there could be a small one. I think you oughta see a doctor," he said at last.

"No! No doctors."

"But Chris--"

"They'll want to report it. No doctors, no cops."

"You ain't gonna call the police? Chris..." Nathan took a breath, then said what he had to. "You been raped..."

"NO!" Chris struggled to sit up against the lancing pain. "No...doctors..." he gasped.

Nathan straightened and looked at him. "Why, Chris?" he asked quietly. "Who was it?"

"Vin."

It was said so softly, Nathan was sure he had heard wrong.

"OUR Vin? That don't sound like him."

"Wasn't him...It was and it wasn't." He ran a trembling hand through his hair and rubbed his face. "It wasn't the Vin I know. He...he looked...I don't know. I never saw him like that before. Like he was drunk, only more than drunk. High, maybe. But that's not like Vin either. Hell, Nathan, I don't know..." His voice cracked and he let the sentence hang. He struggled to get up again, then cried out at the sudden intense pain that whipped through him. Catching his breath at last, he gasped "I...I need a shower."

"Not just yet." Nathan pushed him gently back, helping him into bed. "If you won't see a doctor, let me at least see about gettin' you some painkillers. You just keep this blanket over you. Don't want you goin' into shock. You be okay by yourself for awhile?"

"Just...lock the door, okay?"

Nathan nodded. "I won't be gone long."

As soon as Nathan had left, Chris pulled back the sheets and struggled to get up. Limping painfully, he slowly made his way to the shower and turned it on, full force and very hot. He scrubbed his body as hard as he could, just wanting to feel clean again and wondering if he ever would.

He leaned against the tiled wall, his emotions swirling in a confused jumble around him, making it impossible to think. "Vin, WHY," he moaned. His eyes burned and a wetness tracked down his face, mingling with the hot water on his face.

Nathan still hadn't returned by the time Chris had finished showering and the water was ice cold. He limped into the bedroom in what seemed to be years when it was only minutes.

He climbed back into bed, curled into a painful ball, and wrapped the sheet tightly around him. The recent horror continued to play itself out in his mind even as his brain searched for answers.

Nathan had returned a couple of hours later. Chris had taken the painkillers, washing it down with orange juice that, unknown to him, had been laced with something to make him sleep. Nathan had then called JD on his cell phone. He explained only that Chris had some injuries and asked the young man to spend the night at Chris's, just to keep an eye on him.

"Call me if anyone - and that's anyone, JD - drops by."

"Even if it's one of us?"

"Especially if it's one of us."

The night passed quietly and uneventfully. Chris slept through the night and awoke disoriented, groggy and in pain. JD had seen to it that Chris took another dose of the painkiller before being shooed away. Chris had assured him that he was fine, and though JD had looked at him doubtfully, he knew better than to argue.

Chris didn't move till he heard the door close behind JD. Slowly, through an agony that seemed to envelope his whole body, he climbed out of bed again and limped to the bathroom. He leaned low over the sink, groaning as he bent over and everything in his body protested. He splashed cold water against his face, as if trying to wash away the events of the night. After several minutes, he straightened as much as he could and moved slowly back into the bedroom and to the closet. He'd never known walking to be so difficult. Despite the painkillers, he
seemed to be in even more pain than he'd been during the night. He grit his teeth as he pulled a pair of jeans over his hips. His fingers still shook as he buttoned a flannel shirt.

He carefully sank down onto the bed to put on his socks and boots. He cried out in pain, gingerly trying to find a way to sit with the least amount of knife-like ache. God, he hurt, all through his body and outward again to the roots of his hair.

"Maybe just for a little while," he thought, curling up in a ball on the bed and pulling the blanket around him.

When he limped into the kitchen, he stiffened, his heart hammering in his ears. He hadn't heard Vin come in. Vin turned to him with a grin.

"Afternoon. Musta been some party last night. Woke up on the floor of my apartment. Feel like shit, too. Hell, I ain't puked like that since I was in high school."

Chris was staring at him, a puzzled look in his eyes. "Do you remember last night at all?"

Vin smiled with embarrassment. "No, not really. I remember being at Jared's. Next thing I woke up at home. Sure hope I don't have to apologize to him for anything. But don't worry. Looks like I made it home okay." Vin made a move to put his hand on Chris's shoulder, who moved awkwardly to avoid the contact. Vin looked at him in mild surprise. Ordinarily, Chris moved with an athletic grace, but he moved stiffly as if in pain. "You all right?"

"Just don't touch me," Chris said in a controlled, matter-of-fact voice.

Vin filled the glass with water to wash out the cotton in his mouth. Chris must be in a mood again, he reasoned. But that didn't explain his stiff movement. He watched as Chris put a carton of milk back in the refrigerator.

"Yer movin' like an ol' man," Vin teased, then with a nonchalance he didn't feel, "What's the matter? You mad at me for gettin' drunk?"

Chris didn't answer.

"If it's because I drove home, honest, Chris, I don't remember if I did or not." He started to drink again when he caught the look on Chris's face. There was something in those green eyes that stilled Vin's hand as he raised his glass. Something there that looked as if someone very close to Chris had died.

"Chris?"

"Nothing," was all he'd say, still trying to avoid Vin's eyes. He quickly shrugged into his jacket and headed out to the barn.

Vin watched him go. Chris obviously had a bug up his ass about something, and he was determined to not talk about it. If Chris wanted to talk about it at all, he would in his own good time.

But still...the look in those eyes bothered Vin. It bothered him a lot.

Vin turned, as he heard the door open. "Nathan! Hi! What brings you here?"

Nathan looked at him oddly. "What are you doin' here?"

Vin smiled, almost embarrassed. "Why are you surprised? I practically live here."

"Where's Chris?"

"In the barn."

Nathan nodded and moved to the intercom that connected the house to the barn. "Chris, you wanna come back here? We'll be in the den."

There was a pause and then a flat voice replied "Yeah."

Nathan looked at the two men, seated between him. Chris was looking idly out the window, trying to look as if he didn't care. Nathan knew him well enough to see the emotional walls going up all around the man. He sat on the desk and turned to Vin.

"Vin, do you remember last night?"

Vin rubbed his hand through his hair. "No, not really." He looked from one man to the other. "What's this about? Did something happen?"

"Chris asked me to take a look at him."

Vin turned sharply to look at Chris. The blond was turned sideways in his chair, his arm resting on the back, and he seemed to be avoiding looking at him.

"I knew he was hurtin'..." Vin began.

Nathan looked at each of them in turn, as if trying to come to a decision. Chris rose abruptly from his chair and walked out of the room without looking at either of them.

Nathan studied Vin curiously. "You don't remember anything?"

"No, I told you, no...Guess I was too drunk...What's wrong with him? Does this have something to do with me?"

There was a long silence. Nathan sat in the chair Chris had vacated and leaned forward.

"I don't know a good way o' tellin' you this...." he said quietly. "You raped him."

Vin gaped in horror. "No!" he said in a hushed whisper. He shot out of his chair, trying to go after him. "Chris!"

Nathan caught him, holding him back. Suddenly Vin crumpled in his arms. Nathan helped him back into the chair.

"No," he said, weakly shaking his head. "I would never do that to him--" He hugged his knees to his chest, staring unseeingly at a distant spot on the floor. "I could never..." He looked up at Nathan, his throat constricting. "It's not true..."

But he could see in Nathan's eyes that it was.

Nathan sighed. "I think you...and Chris...need to take a little time off. I'll make your excuses to Orrin."

"I gotta talk to Chris..."

"No, Vin. Give him some time. He's goin' to need it."

"But--"

"Please," Nathan begged in a quiet voice. "Tell me...Do you remember what you drank?"

Vin frowned, struggling to sort out the hazy, disconnected memories of the night before. "I had a couple of beers, I think. And some concoction of Jared's."

"Concoction?"

"Yeah, something with a whole bunch of fruit juices."

Nathan shook his head, puzzled. "Beers and fruit juice, that's all?"

"All I remember." Vin paused. "Nathan...What about him?"

"I don't know, Vin. I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Vin looked at him miserably. "I gotta talk to Chris...Try to make things right..."

"Vin, wait." Nathan reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "I think you should also maybe stay away from here for at least a few days. Give him some time, first."

The sharpshooter nodded reluctantly. "Maybe I should move my stuff outta here..."

Nathan shook his head. "Let Chris tell you what he wants when he's ready. He will."

"Yeah. But I still gotta make things right...if I can..."

Chris worked in the barn, trying to keep his mind as blank as possible. The effort was wasted, though, because his body reminded him constantly of what had happened Friday night. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Damn, it was hot in here. Why was it so hot in this barn?

An ache had increased in his stomach that forced him to give up his chores in the barn and head back to the house. When he got inside, Nathan was in the kitchen, finishing a glass of water.

"Where is he?" asked Chris

"He left." Nathan eyed him carefully. "How are you doin'?"

"Fine." Chris headed for the bedroom. Without looking back, he added, "Let yourself out, Nathan, won't you?"

"Sure, Chris."

Chris stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes and walked into the shower. As he stood in the steamy spray, he felt his legs start to tremble. 'What the hell--' He cut his shower short and stepped out of the stall. The chill slammed into his body, causing him to shake uncontrollably. Chris opened the medicine cabinet with a trembling hand and reached for a bottle of Aleve. His hands were now shaking so bad, he could barely get it open, spilling tablets all over the tiled bathroom floor. He hastily swallowed two of them and set the open bottle on the
sink.

Chris gripped the edge of the sink and leaned heavily against it. Whatever was causing his fever was making him weaken with surprising speed. He took a deep, rattling breath and made his way slowly to the bed.

Maybe if he got some sleep and let the Aleve do its thing, he'd be okay. Maybe Nathan had been right, and he was really hurt worse than he knew. But if he was, that meant doctors and police. He couldn't do that to Vin. Chris still loved him, and no matter what Vin had done to him, he couldn't bear the thought of Vin getting into serious trouble. He was convinced there was an explanation - there HAD to be - and Chris wanted to know what it was. He had to know.

Chris lay back against the feather pillows and closed his eyes. Maybe in the morning...

Vin flicked on the light and squinted. He'd been up in the mountains ever since he'd left Chris's. Now it was nightfall and he felt...weary. He shuffled into the kitchen, scooped up a bottle of whiskey and continued into the living room.

With an audible sigh, he sprawled on the length of the couch. Almost without thinking, he picked up the remote and thumbed a button. The TV flared to life, unnoticed by the apartment's lone occupant.

Vin slowly untwisted the cap on the bottle, tipped his head back, and took a long pull. He looked at the bottle for a moment. This was what had started all this trouble. With a curse, he pitched the bottle into the kitchen. There was a satisfying crash as it hit the tiled floor.

He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. When he was with Chris, he felt so free, so secure, and so comfortable. It was hard to comprehend that he'd taken all that away. His memory was completely blank after he'd left Jared's.

Damn, Chris, I wish I could remember what happened. Wish we could both forget.

He looked around the apartment, suddenly hating the four walls. It felt like a prison. A place where he belonged.

"I'm a rapist," he murmured miserably to himself, dropping his head in his hands. "Oh, God, Chris..." His voice caught in his throat and hot tears tracked down his face, dripping onto the worn carpet.

"Why does it smell like whiskey in here?"

"Josiah, don't you ever fuckin' knock?"

Josiah shrugged, as Vin shifted over for him.. "Nathan called. Said you might need someone to talk to."

"Did he tell you what happened?"

"Just that you and Chris had some kind of fight."

Vin snorted derisively and looked down at the floor. "Yeah...Yeah...Somethin' like that..."

"Well, I won't wait for you to offer me a drink--"

"There's beers in the fridge," he offered, without looking up.

Josiah smiled and squeezed Vin's leg as he got up. "You want one? Vin?"

Vin shook his head. "I...I don't want any at all."

Josiah paused by the refrigerator to look at him. "Musta been some fight."

"I..." Vin drew his knees to his chin, his voice choking softly. "I raped him."

Josiah froze, the beer can halfway to his mouth. "You what? Who? Chris?" He frowned and shook his head in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of ANYTHING!" He began to pace. "I can't remember a damn thing! NATHAN had to tell me! And Chris right there lookin' like I'd ripped 'is heart out!" He stopped, an anguished expression on his face. "WHY, Josiah? Why would I do something like that? HOW could I do something like that? Am I really a--a--"

Josiah impulsively drew the heartbroken young agent to him in a bear hug. "No," he said softly. "No, you're not."

"He shoulda called the cops on me. I deserve it for...for something like that."

The big man pulled away and framed Vin's face in his hands, forcing the sharpshooter to look at him. "It just shows how much he loves you. You're a caring man. Whatever you did, I'm sure there's an explanation. And we'll find out what it is."

Vin pulled away and flopped dejectedly onto the couch. "How? Maybe...maybe there IS no explanation..."

"Remember all the times I've talked about faith?"

Vin smiled wanly. "This one of them times?"

"For a fact."

Chris forced his eyes open to slits. Sunday morning...wasn't it? The sheets were soaked through as fever raged through him. He felt sicker than he ever had in his life. More medication. That's what he needed. He lifted the sheet and tried to get to the bathroom to take a higher dosage of painkillers and fever-reducers.

He didn't get far. He managed to take a faltering step, and started to take another, when his knees buckled and his legs folded under him, sending him tumbling face-forward to the bedroom carpet. He screamed in agony as his abdomen touched the floor and he forced himself to roll onto his side, drawing in great gulps of air. He needed to get up, needed to get help, but his body felt like it was no longer responding to his brain's commands.

He struggled unsuccessfully to get to his knees to crawl to the phone, but the pain in his gut was too much, and the intense fever was making him dizzy. Whatever strength he'd had had completely given out now, and he found he didn't have enough to even get to his knees.

He lay there, trying to concentrate through the dizzying haze, trying to control his breathing and the pain. All his thoughts were focused on those two tasks, so much so that he didn't hear anyone come in.

"Chris?" called JD, his calm voice growing steadily nearer. "You didn't say if you still wanted some help with that new colt, so I just thought I'd--" There was an audible gasp and JD was beside him instantly. "Chris!"

The young man examined him only a moment. He grabbed the phone and dialed. "Yeah, I need an ambulance..." He gave the dispatcher the necessary information and hung up.

The young agent tried to make Chris more comfortable, inadvertently touching his abdomen lightly as he positioned the trembling body against him. A weak cry tore from Chris's throat, and then he was gasping for air, his eyes closing to slits.

"Hang ON, Chris!" JD's voice dropped to an urgent, pleading whisper as his fingers touched the hot, fevered skin of Chris's neck. The pulse was rapid and weak. Without realizing it, he held Chris tighter. "Ambulance is on its way. I PROMISE. It'll be here real soon if you can just hold on..."

JD remembered a prayer his mother had taught him. He repeated it over and over in his head, not stopping, even as the wail of an ambulance siren could be heard in the distance.

JD was slumped on the hard, plastic chair in the waiting area for St. Sebastian's emergency room. His arms were folded across his chest, his eyes scanned his teammates briefly before focusing again unseeingly on the gray tile floor. He had called Josiah, then left it to him to spread the word to the others. Ezra was outside, having a smoke. Nathan and Josiah were seated nearby. Buck was pacing back forth anxiously, unable to stay in a chair for more than a few seconds at a time.

JD didn't want to talk to anybody. He didn't think he could. All he could think about was the scene back at Chris's ranch as the paramedics scrambled to stabilize him.

Blood pressure's barely 80. Pulse is over 100...

Chris had been so sick when JD found him. His skin had been so hot to the touch and he seemed only dimly aware JD was even there. JD shuddered inwardly at the memory. He didn't know what exactly had happened to Chris but he knew it had something to do with Vin. And Vin wasn't here yet.

Four heads turned at once as the doctor entered the waiting room. Josiah quickly retrieved Ezra as the team assembled around the physician.

"Gentlemen, please come with me." They were led to a small room, one that was clearly set aside for families to receive news that wasn't good.

"How--" began JD.

"--He's in surgery," the doctor replied gently, as he closed the door.

"Why?!" Buck demanded. "What kind of surgery?"

"Chris is very sick," the doctor continued. "In fact, it was because of his physical conditioning that he's even alive at all. He's been sent up to surgery for a colostomy."

"A what?"

"That's when they--" said Ezra.

"I KNOW what it is!" Buck cried, then turned his attention back to the doctor. "Why does he need that?"

The doctor was unfazed by the high emotions in the cramped room. "It's only temporary. Chris has a tear in his rectal wall that's gone untreated. That's why he has a life-threatening infection now. In order to allow his injury to heal, we're temporarily bypassing the rectum. Once he's over his infection and his injury has healed, we'll reverse the colostomy. He should recover just fine."

"It sounds like a lot for an infection," Nathan said in a puzzled tone.

"It's very rare," the doctor agreed, "but it can happen, as in cases like these, where a rape has been especially brutal or violent."

"Cases like these?"

The doctor looked at them in surprise. "I--I'm sorry. I thought you all knew."

Buck shook his head disbelievingly. "He couldn't have been..."

"There's some damage around his anus as well, I'm afraid. But I'm not an investigator. When he's in Recovery, we can contact the police for him to come in and take his statement."

Nathan shook his head. "No police. He said 'no cops'."

Buck gaped at him. "You KNEW?" His dark blue eyes narrowed suspiciously as he pieced it all together. "You knew and he won't see the police or a doctor. That means he's protectin' someone and so are you...." Buck yanked open the door to head back to the waiting room. "Where's Vin..."

Vin hadn't heard the phone ring. When he'd come from the shower, he'd seen the answering machine light flashing. He pressed the button, and the room crackled with Ezra's terse voice.

"Josiah said Chris has been taken to St. Sebastian's. I think you'd better come."

As the doors slid open, five pairs of eyes turned to look at him. He could feel their eyes piercing him, looking deep inside, trying to find answers to what had happened.

"C'mere, Tanner," said Buck in a low, dangerous voice. Josiah, Ezra and Nathan moved quickly to restrain him, and hustled him outside, followed by JD and Vin.

"Chris has been taken to surgery," Nathan told him gently.

"Sur--WHY?!"

"He was real sick when I found 'im--" JD murmured.

"Nathan?" Vin looked at each of them in turn. "TELL ME! WHY?!"

"A colostomy," Josiah said quietly.

"Why does he need that? Are you saying I did that to him? Dammit, someone tell me SOMETHING!" He reached for the agent closest to him and grabbed Ezra by the shirtfront. "Ezra, tell me what the hell's going on or so help me, I'll--" Vin stopped, looking at Ezra in horror. He gently released him and stepped back. His hands started to shake as he pushed his long hair back from his face. "Please...Ezra," he croaked.

Ezra moved close to JD. "JD, why don't you enlighten Mr. Tanner?"

JD began in a soft voice. "He was real sick, Vin. Real sick. He couldn't even stand when I found him. I was afraid that...before the paramedics got there..." His voice faded away for a moment. He took a deep, shuddering breath and continued. "If I hadn't stopped by when I did..." He stopped and Ezra squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

Vin could scarcely believe how bad things had gotten, and so fast. "I did this. I did this to him, didn't I?" Anguished eyes turned to Nathan. "God, it's like a nightmare I can't wake up from..."

"Maybe if we slap you hard enough, you'll wake up then," sneered Buck.

"Quiet, Buck," said Ezra. "I think Vin is more than aware of the extent of the damage he's caused. What I think we all want to know is...'why', Vin."

Vin swallowed the huge lump in his throat. "I wish to hell I knew," he said in a barely-audible voice. "Josiah, if there's a reason like you said, I can't think of it."

Buck turned. "YOU knew, too? Am I the only one my FRIENDS are keeping secrets from?"

"We were afraid you might get emotional," Ezra replied dryly.

"Oh, really? Well, you figured right." He pointed to Vin. "You'd best get him away from here before HE needs surgery..." He pulled his arm free of Josiah's grasp and started back into the hospital. "I'm goin' inside to wait. That's MY friend in there!" He glared at Vin, his eyes flashing. "MY friend."

The message was clear.

He's MY friend. Not yours. Because a real friend wouldn't have hurt him.

Vin sped down the road, barely noticing the fiery-looking red sunset. He couldn't stand being in that apartment. He felt so isolated. So alone. He'd thought about leaving the team. After what he'd done, Chris probably wouldn't want him anyway.

Hell, Jared was needing a roommate. And it'd be somewhere to stay while he was looking for a new job. No. Not Jared. He wasn't that desperate. On the other hand...

To his surprise, Jared's apartment was exactly where he ended up. He parked his motorcycle and pulled out his cell phone.

"Hey, dude..."

"Vin?"

"Want some company? I...I could use some one to talk to..."

There was a pause. "Sure. Where are you?"

"Just come down." God, what was he thinking. Jared, of all people.

"Vin, you haven't eaten a bite."

He sipped his Coke without bothering to reply.

"I've had to carry the conversation mostly by myself, you know."

Vin forced a teasing smile. "And you've done a great job."

"I thought you wanted someone to talk to. Did something happen between you and..." Jared hesitated, as if trying to get the name right. "Chris?"

"Yeah. Yeah, something happened. The night I was at your party? Something happened and I don't remember it. And now he's payin' for it."

Jared shrugged. "Vin, whatever you did, it couldn't have been your fault."

"Nooo, this was definitely my fault."

"Vin...Who knows you better than me? You're a nice guy. You're the nicest guy I know. You wouldn't do anything to anyone that they didn't deserve...You know what these fries need? Ketchup." He made a grab for the bottle, which was nearest Vin, and managed to knock Vin's Coke over, sending the cold, foamy liquid into the sharpshooter's lap.

Vin leaped out of the booth with a startled cry.

"I'm sorry! I'm so so so so sorry!" Jared looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

"No, it's okay--"

"Why don't you mop that up in the men's room and I'll order you another one."

"No, I--"

"I owe it to you."

Vin sighed and hurried to the men's room before the wet stain spread any more over his crotch. When he returned, a full glass of Coke had been set on the table.

"Thanks," he said, sliding back into the booth and taking a sip.

Jared continued as if nothing had happened. "You said you don't even remember what happened. Maybe it didn't happen the way you think."

"What do you mean? You don't even know what went down."

"Doesn't matter. All you know is what you were told, right? And anyone's perspective can be wrong."

Vin could feel that strange headache starting again. "Are you suggestin' they'd lie?"

"Wellll...no...I'm just suggesting that you heard one side of things. And that doesn't make it a fact."

Vin was only half-listening. That same headache he'd had before was back now. It wasn't nearly as intense but it was persistent. Jared's words seemed to bounce around the inside of Vin's skull, like he was listening from deep within a tunnel. The headache was starting to make Vin irritable.

"You're a good friend, Jared, but you don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Vin...you always have a home with me. You know I care about you."

"Yeah. Look, I gotta go, okay?" He really wasn't feeling well and now he just wanted to go somewhere and lay down. His instincts were telling him to not tell Jared any of this, but to leave on his own. Vin thanked him for the uneaten dinner and hurried out of the restaurant.

Chris's eyes opened groggily. His eyelids felt like they weighed 10 pounds each. Around him were the sounds of hums and beeps, some rhythmic, some not. There were muffled voices in the distance. He tried to move but found he couldn't. It was as if his body was floating, free of sensation. He wanted to call out but there was something in his mouth. It seemed to disappear down his throat but he couldn't feel it. And all around him, tubes and tape and machines and plastic pouches of liquid.

As consciousness slowly returned, he began to feel afraid. What had happened to him? Where was he? Why couldn't he move or feel anything? The beeping nearest him sped up its rhythm, as if charting his rising panic.

"Good evening," a voice drawled gently near him. He tried to focus his eyes on the fuzzy shape that was getting closer.

Ezra. It was Ezra. He was near enough now that, even in Chris's drugged state, he could see the mix of concern and relief in the undercover agent's face.

"You can probably guess you're in St. Sebastian's ICU," he continued calmly and slowly. "You've been very ill, Chris. You still are, but the doctors and nurses are taking exemplary care of you." Ezra put his hand on Chris's forearm, applying a gentle, reassuring pressure. "You were brought in yesterday morning. Sunday. You've also had some temporary surgery to allow your body to get well. You're going to be uncomfortable for awhile, but eventually you're going to be just fine. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"

Chris closed his eyes and nodded slightly. Images flashed briefly through his brain. A face. A familiar face. A face he thought he wanted to see and yet it made him feel afraid.

Vin looked around the familiar house. His headache had not gotten any worse but just being here brought on a crushing pressure in his chest. This was where it had all happened and it frustrated him that he still couldn't remember anything. He moved woodenly to the bedroom.

The bed was unmade, the now-stained sheets badly rumpled. Packaging from emergency supplies still lay discarded on the bedroom floor. Vin bent and slowly, gingerly, gathered them up and discarded them in the bathroom wastebasket.

He stared at the bed a moment, his head feeling almost puffy inside, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

Slowly, he lowered himself onto the bed, lying on his stomach. He could still smell Chris faintly in the sheets, but it was unmistakably Chris. He drifted off to sleep there, with the familiar, musky scent of the man he still loved filling his senses.

Chris was in bed, Vin beside him. The brunet agent was gently rubbing and stroking Chris's naked body, and it was feeling so good. Chris's languid calm was slowly being replaced by a gradually increasing feeling of desire.

Chris rolled onto his stomach, his rigid sex pressing against his flat belly. The heat rushing into his shaft increased rapidly and he could tell he was beginning to leak.

"I want ya, Chris."

Vin's hands roamed slowly down his back, and Chris turned to look over his shoulder at Vin. To his horror, the hands on Chris's buttocks had long, curving claws that ripped into his tender flesh even as he screamed and screamed.

"Need some help here!" called Buck. A nurse from the morning shift hurried into the room in response to his call. "Can you do something for 'im?"

Chris was thrashing weakly, clearly agitated and in danger of injuring himself among the tubes and needles connected to his body. One IV needle had already pulled loose and the hole in Chris's arm was bleeding steadily.

Buck watched them work, an ache in the pit of his stomach, as his friend suffered alone through a torturous nightmare. The drugs that were already being administered only made it that much harder for Chris to awaken. Seeing him like this made Buck sad and angry at the same time.

He felt as if somehow he'd let Chris down. He couldn't explain it or how he thought he could've prevented what happened. He only knew that, as Chris's friend, he'd done a piss-poor job of protecting him from needless suffering over the years.

But how could anyone have foreseen the...unusual relationship...between Chris and Vin? And then, how could anyone have protected the terrible outcome? He was still angry at Vin for causing all this, but he was less inclined to strangle him now.

He sighed tiredly. The doctors had assured them that Chris was going to get better. Physically, he probably was. But they couldn't know if he'd really heal psychologically. Well, this time, Buck resolved, he would be there for his old friend to help his healing along, whether Chris welcomed that or not.

Vin lay in bed, feeling Chris's silky-warm, bare skin against his back. He shifted with a contented sigh. It had all been some terrible nightmare.

"I love you. I trust you," whispered Chris.

Vin smiled and rolled over onto his other side to greet his lover when he stopped, a shriek caught in his throat. The dull, expressionless eyes of Chris's corpse stared back at him. Vin backed away, his eyes riveted on the dead man's face.

Buck was standing by the bed, watching them both. "YOU killed him," he said, pointing an accusing finger.

Vin shook his head. "No! NO!--" He looked around him in panic. Josiah was standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed.

"Josiah! Tell him I didn't--"

Josiah shook his head calmly. "Can't help ya, Vin. He trusted you - loved you - and look where it got him."

"NO!"

Vin sat up abruptly, breathing hard, his body covered with sweat and his heart hammering in his chest. He rubbed his eyes as Josiah melted away. Vin looked around him. He was in Chris's room, in Chris's bed.

And Chris was in the hospital. He needed to see him. He didn't care if any of the others were there or not. He cared about Chris as much as they did and he had never stopped caring. Dammit, he belonged there, too - no matter what the others might be thinking now - and he was going, even if he had to fight his way in.

The following day, three of the team sat around the office. It was Josiah's turn to sit with Chris. They had decided to do it in shifts. Despite the fact that they were in the office, little investigative work got done that day. Four minds were focused on the same thing: Chris and Vin.

Ezra arrived, late as usual. He saw the unspoken question in their eyes.

"He's awake, but he's pretty well sedated. He seems to understand what's going on around him, though."

"That's good, right?" asked JD.

Nathan smiled. "As good as we're gonna get, right now."

Buck was sitting straight up in a chair, his head tilted back against the wall. "I never said anythin' to either one of 'em about that 'relationship' o' theirs," he said quietly to no one in particular. "All I did was warn Chris early on about the...professional risks." He sighed heavily. "But he said he loves 'im and I could tell it was agency-be-damned, he was gonna do what he was gonna do. Now look at 'im. Maybe I shoulda spoke up after all..."

JD shook his head. "You know Chris. It wouldn't have mattered."

"So what do we do now?" Ezra looked around at the others.

"I think that depends on Chris," Nathan replied. "We'll have to wait and see how he feels about Vin after this."

Vin walked silently through the hospital, ignoring the bustle and sounds around him. There it was, just ahead. ICU. He saw Josiah step into the hall and stretch. Vin quickly ducked around a corner and waited, watching as Josiah turned in the direction of the hospital cafeteria. Certain Josiah had gone, he continued down the hall to the ICU. And to Chris.

Chris Larabee looked so pale and still. Surrounded by machines, he appeared fragile, too, as if he were made of glass. A ventilator was in his mouth. There were IVs of painkillers and antibiotics. A machine near him monitored his heart rate.

There were two nurses by Chris's bed. One moved around methodically checking each of the machines and comparing them to a chart in her hand. Vin had seen her around, when he or one of the others had found themselves a patient at St. Sebastian's. He only knew her as Anne but she seemed very nice.

He'd heard the other nurses call the second one Winnie. It must be Chris's stoma nurse, he reasoned. Even still, Vin felt a sudden chill as he watched Winnie pull back the sheet, revealing the colostomy bag attached to Chris. He watched, transfixed, as she expertly changed the bag with quick, gentle fingers.

Chris's eyes slivered open at her, and then closed again.

Vin stood there, unable to move. Had he really done this to Chris? Had he really caused so much suffering?

Anne, finished with her tasks, started to pass him in the doorway.

"How is he?" Vin asked quietly.

"He's doing well. We've already started weaning him off the ventilator, and we'll be able to move him out of ICU soon."

"Thanks."

"Winnie's almost through. If you want to visit with him, I'd suggest keeping it brief. He's still sedated."

He looked at Chris, then back at her. "No, I--I don't think so."

"You're sure?" she said with a gentle smile. "Maybe if you come back tomorrow--"

One of the machines began to beep quickly. Vin and Anne turned to look. Chris's eyes were open. He was staring at Vin and trying to move on the bed, inadvertently pulling on his IVs. Anne hurried to his side to try to calm him down.

"I'd better go," Vin said to her. He turned and headed down the hall, almost running in his attempt to escape the scene of the injured and panicked man on the bed who had nearly reinjured himself trying to escape his tormentor.

Vin bolted through the doors to the parking lot. He stopped and doubled over, hands on his knees, drawing in great gulps of air and trying to ignore the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears.

God, what had he done?

"So you saw him."

Vin looked up, startled. "Shit, Josiah, do you always have to do that?"

"Figured you'd show up eventually." Josiah was holding a steaming cup of coffee in each hand. Now he held one out to Vin. The sharpshooter looked at him uncertainly. "It's the way you like it. Cream and plenty of sugar."

Vin took the hot styrofoam cup from him with a wan smile of thanks. Josiah glanced around them, then led Vin over to a weathered picnic table several yards back from the hospital entrance. Josiah sat on the bench and lit a cigarette, and Vin climbed up and sat on the tabletop, surveying the parking lot and feeling the soft, spring breeze through his hair. He turned the cup in his hands without drinking from it.

"So you saw him," Josiah said in an attempt at conversation.

"He looks awful."

Josiah smiled. "Don't let him hear you say that."

Vin forced a small smile, then, just as quickly, it was gone. "I can't get close enough to him to say anythin'. He panicked at the sight o' me. Like...like I was gonna hurt 'im right there in the hospital..." He shook his head, his voice charged with raw emotion. "Even pumped full o' sedatives, he's still afraid of me..."

"Vin--"

"You don't know what it's like...to see a look like that in the eyes of someone...someone you love...and to know it's you what put that look there. Hurts worse'n bein' gut-shot."

Josiah took a long, thoughtful drag on his cigarette. "You can't blame yourself." He looked at Vin as he spoke. "Chris is where he is because he loves you. Nathan told him to see a doctor but he wouldn't - because he didn't want to get you into any trouble. When they finally brought him in here, he refused to tell anyone what really happened." He saw the stricken look in the young man's eyes. "Oh, they know, I'm sure, but unless Chris says something, there's not much they can do about it except treat his injuries." The
big man moved up to sit next to Vin. He wrapped one bear-like arm around his shoulders. "He needs time, Vin. He needs time for his body to heal, and he needs time to sort out his emotions. So do you."

"And then what?"

"Why don't we wait till Chris is out of the hospital..."

"Maybe it's too late already," Vin muttered miserably.

"'Long as there's a chance in heaven," Josiah assured him softly, "it ain't too late."

"Ezra!"

The agent froze and turned slowly at the familiar voice. A wide, car-salesman smile spread across his face.

"Yes, Mr. Travis?"

"I'd like to talk to you. In my office..."

Ezra followed him into the large office and watched as Orrin Travis closed the door.

"If this is about my last expense report, I can explain that. I didn't know it was a gentlemen's club until after--"

Travis held up one hand. "I want to talk to you about Chris Larabee. I understand he's still in the hospital."

"Yes, sir, he's been ill."

"Ill? Or injured?"

"I wasn't there and I'm not a doctor."

"Perhaps I should talk to Vin Tanner."

Ezra studied him carefully. How much did Travis really know? The agency certainly would frown on Chris's "special" relationship with someone he also supervised. Add to that the fact that Chris had been sexually assaulted and that would end any law enforcement career Vin would ever have, too.

"Vin's on leave, isn't he?" Ezra reminded him.

Travis eyed him suspiciously. "Indeed."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't be much help. May I go now?"

Travis nodded and Ezra opened the door and started out. "We'll talk about your expense report later."

Ezra's smile faltered for only an instant. "Of course."

It had been a few days since Vin's visit to St. Sebastian's ICU but whether it had been two, three or four, Vin was no longer sure. All he knew was that the bottle was nearly empty and he didn't feel like trying to get up off the sofa to go out and get more.

He stretched out across the cushions and finished off the last of it, feeling it burn its way down his throat and spread a warmth throughout his belly. He scowled and dropped the bottle onto the floor.

He'd been at it for what seemed like...Hours? Days? And the pain never seemed to go away. It dulled a bit for awhile, but hours later, it'd come back full-force, accompanied by horrific nightmares of an event he couldn't remember, try though he might.

There was a soft knock on his door.

"G'way!" he slurred.

The last thing he needed right now was company. Whoever it was ignored the order and came in. Vin rolled onto his side, turning his back so that whoever had come in would take the hint and leave.

"Tsk, tsk. Look at you."

Vin's head turned, and he squinted over his shoulder.

"Jared?" Vin sat up and looked at him. "How'd you know...where I live...?"

Jared's expression was serious. "You dropped your wallet at the party. Lucky for you I found it and returned it to you. Don't you remember?"

Vin shook his head, instantly sorry he had, as his brain came loose of its moorings and rattled around his skull.

Jared managed a laugh. "If you were as bad then as you look now, it's no wonder."

"Whaddya want?"

Vin clumsily picked up the empty bottle and tried to set it on the coffee table. Jared rushed closer to help him.

Jared shrugged. "Wanted to see how you're doing. You were pretty shook up last time I saw you. You never did tell me what happened."

"Chrish ish in the hosh-hospital."

With a cluck of sympathy, the mousy young man moved quickly to sit beside him on the sofa.

"That's rough. Is he going to be all right?" Vin nodded. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I dunno. Wha' happened between me an' him...It's pretty bad..."

Jared put an arm around him. "So you keep saying. Well, if you need someone to talk to, or you don't want to be alone, you know where to come."

Vin nodded, feeling sleepy from all the whiskey. "Yer a good friend, Jared," he muttered as Jared helped him stretch out on the sofa again. He barely heard the young man's soft whisper.

"I could be so much more."

Chris awoke slowly. Idly, a part of his mind wondered what day it was, hell, what time it was, but at the same time he didn't much care. His body felt disconnected from his brain, like it belonged to someone else. He wasn't in any pain that he was aware of, but he felt a deep lethargy that settled in the core of his bones. There were fewer tubes and machines, and the ventilator tube down his throat had been removed. He'd tried to move but there were still things pulling on him whichever way he went, so at last he gave up and laid there, exhausted
from the effort.

The last time he'd been awake - at least enough to have some idea of where he was - he was in ICU. Looking around him now, despite his somewhat blurred vision, he could see he was in a private room. He'd have to thank his team later for arranging that...if he remembered.

His team.

He dimly remembered a series of concerned, familiar faces in the room with him. And one in particular. The one he most wanted to see and the one that most frightened him. He shut his eyes, trying to shut out Vin's words as they reverberated through his brain.

'Couldn't you get a young guy to sleep with you any other way? I didn't NEED to be with you! And I don't need you NOW!'

Chris wanted to believe it was just a bad dream, the result of the drugs. He wanted Vin to be here telling him that it hadn't really happened. But if that was the case, he wouldn't be here now. He shivered involuntarily as the...rape - he still hadn't fully accepted it as such - played itself out in a series of flashbacks. The pain of hitting his head. The even worse pain when he was forcibly violated by the man he most loved and trusted. Pain that increased with every brutal thrust. And the pain in his soul that refused to go away.

His vision had finally cleared enough to observe the two men in the room with him. Visiting hours must have just started. Buck was in a chair, completely absorbed in a magazine. The outside was a copy of U.S. News and World Report, but Chris knew what was concealed inside. Well, generally, he did. Specifically, he couldn't be sure if it was Playboy or Penthouse. JD was reading what was probably a spy thriller. Neither had noticed he was awake yet, but it wouldn't take long. He tried to look like he was still asleep but the effort came to an abrupt
end when his stoma nurse returned.

"Good morning, Chris," smiled Winnie. She nodded at his familiar visitors. "Boys."

"Is it time for that already," he grumbled in a weak, raspy voice.

"Now, now," she chided gently. "You wouldn't want me to neglect my favorite patient, would you?"

"I thought I was your favorite," smiled Buck.

She looked at him. "You've never been a patient of mine, Mr. Wilmington, but from what I hear, you're not someone I'd want as my patient when it's time for a catheter."

Buck's mustache drooped, his smile fading while JD held back a smirk. Winnie turned her attention back to Chris. "I'm sure your friends will give you a few minutes' privacy while we do this."

JD stuffed his book into his back pocket. "Buck, I could sure use some morning coffee, couldn't you?"

"You call that muddy water 'coffee'? Why, that swill--Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, I could do with some...'coffee'." He sighed and followed JD out of the room.

Winnie picked up the edge of the sheet. "Ready?"

Chris turned away in resignation, without another word. He hated to watch her change the bag attached to his colostomy appliance. He hated knowing what it was and why it was there. It made him feel mutilated somehow. She was right, though. If she had to change the thing, he'd rather she did it before one of his team arrived. He knew they must have all seen it by now, but it didn't change how he felt about it.

Winnie smiled. "Anne says you've improved quite a bit. You'll probably be going home soon." She paused. "Chris...you really should watch me do this. You're going to have do it yourself soon."

He turned back to look at her, a stricken look on his face. "For how long?"

"Oh, not long," she reassured him. "Your reversal surgery may even be scheduled before you're released. Now, will you pay attention while I do this?"

He looked at her a moment, then nodded slightly. If it meant going home, he'd do anything she asked him to.

When she was done, she smiled at him again. "There. That wasn't so bad." She patted his chest gently. "You did fine. I'll be back later."

He watched her go, suddenly feeling very tired. He closed his eyes, but it wasn't long before he had another visitor.

A young man had walked into his room and he was carrying a bouquet of cut flowers in a small glass vase.

"'Get well' wishes, Mr. Larabee...from your friends. I'll just put them over on this table."

Chris watched him disinterestedly. Probably from the team. Or maybe Travis. He'd ask someone to read him the card later. The young man moved closer to the bed.

"There was something else for you, too," he said softly. He reached out and snatched away the call button. "Tsk, tsk. This little gift is just for you alone.".

There was a sudden jab into the blond's arm, near his IV. His eyes widened and the mousy young man smiled mirthlessly.

Chris struggled to move, to call for help, but his muscles were refusing to obey. The visitor stepped back to stare at Chris, watching him, clearly enjoying himself.

Chris's pulse was suddenly racing and tremors rippled through his entire body as he tried to get out of bed. His stomach clenched with nausea . The tremors gave way to convulsions, and he found himself struggling to breathe. He barely saw his tormentor walk quickly out of the room.
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The Gemini Man