Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on the characters for the TV show "The Magnificent Seven", and no copyright infringement intended to Mirish, Trilogy, MGM, CBS, and any others that may hold the rights. No profit will be made from this work. Lyrics reprinted without permission of the author.
Warning: Bad Boo-boos happen, Strong PG-13, mild violence.
Author's Notes: This piece was written in answer to a challenge regarding either one moment in time that changes everything, and/or the song "One Moment In Time" by Whitney Houston. I used both. Thanks to: Brate, for giving me a beta so I can surprise Cin with a piece she hasn't read before, and Cin for posting the challenge.
ATF Universe
Have you ever wondered about time? How some days you can stare at the clock and swear it's not moving? Or on other days, it's blink-and-you-miss-an-hour? Doesn't that just drive you nuts?
I think about it sometimes, and I keep telling myself I'm not getting any younger. In fact, I'm one second -- make that two -- closer to my death than I was -- now five seconds ago.
They say there are two things I have to do -- pay taxes and die. Well, one, who the heck is THEY? Two, who thought of that? Three, did THEY ever believe that we're victims of time, too? Finally, whoever said time was linear?
Come on. You know what I'm talking about. When you have tons of things to do, and not enough hours in the day? That's when someone -- maybe the mysterious THEY -- jumpstarts the clock and every second feels like it's on speed. Or how about the days when you have next to nothing to do, and you can almost feel your hair grow?
Then there are the moments -- minutes or seconds that literally changes lives. They take lives, they grant lives, they create lives, and they destroy lives.
I think I'm living in the aftermath of one of those moments. I just can't believe it. And I don't want to believe it. But I guess I have to. My life, as I know it, has forever been changed. I can't go back, and I don't know how I'll go forward.
Maybe if I tell you I'll do better. Maybe I'll accept it better.
We met at the Saloon, planning to blow off a little stress. All of us had been working hard for the past three weeks, and we'd been practically living together for all twenty-one days.
No one left the office except for food or clothing; no one went home for long. We slept -- if you can call those two-hour blocks sleep -- at our desks or on an air mattress in the conference room. Showers happened every third day or if someone's eyes were watering.
It sounds bad, but none of us wanted to leave. Ezra needed us. See, the Feebs decided to yank someone's chain and have OUR undercover ATF agent "temporarily reassigned" to an FBI investigation.
We fought it, coming up with valid -- and ludicrous -- reasons why Ezra shouldn't go, but the orders came down, so Ezra went. But we weren't done fighting -- we got assigned as the backup surveillance team, creating a Command Post in our offices.
Ezra didn't trust the Feebs, and neither did we. We couldn't get near him, or be anywhere in the area without getting kicked out, but we could listen in and Travis arranged for us to do paperwork while we worked surveillance. Ha! The only thing surveyed was our shortening tempers.
Oh, well. We got through it, and Ezra was magnificent...as usual. His head was huge...again. They say that some of us have this monstrous ego, but man, he tops us all when he's on a roll. Anyway, we went to the Saloon.
This is where it gets difficult. Chris and Buck promised to drive, because it was their turn, and the rest of us got snookered. Unfortunately, we had spent too much time together and alcohol only brought out the assholes in all of us.
When this happened, we decided it was time to go. So, out the door we went, but for someone, getting into one of the trucks was just not in the picture. He wanted space.
He always wants space, but hey, that's the way he is. We know that, and we accept it. But drunken assholes don't remember to be kind and considerate of each other's feelings. So, we tormented him about not letting us too close.
No, I'm not talking about Ezra, I mean Vin. Vin gets that way sometimes -- he just needs space. And he was drunk. Not that drinking's an excuse, but it sure as hell didn't help matters. He couldn't bear the thought of getting out of the fresh air into one of the trucks and squeezed in with the rest of us. So he said he'd walk home.
Chris wouldn't let him do that, and he tried to stop him. It wasn't physical, just words, and Vin walked away. Chris followed. They reached the sidewalk, and were arguing -- rather loudly about it.
Vin yelled, "Get the hell away from me, Larabee, I don't need you."
And then it happened.
That one moment. One moment in time. One stinking, screw-up, slow motion, damn moment in time.
We weren't the only drunks out that night, and this drunk was behind the wheel of a super-sized pickup with the snowplow attached. You can guess what happened. Drunk takes out both of them, and we watched.
That's all we could do -- watch. Nathan yelled, I think, but sound ceased.
It was like a movie. There's this truck, and it's coming right at them, and we're motioning, someone's yelling, they don't hear us, and the truck's still coming, and it's not stopping, oh no, please no, and then it hit them.
Chris, being sober, grabbed Vin and tried to shove him clear, but it wasn't enough, and the drunk finally realized he was going to hit them and swerved fast, right into the way Chris pushed Vin. Since they were half off their feet to begin with, the plow caught them, and did what plows do best -- pushed them to the side.
It was awful. While they were mangled in the plow, the truck skid on the pavement, a combination of brakes and accelerator at the same time, and the side of it careened into the telephone pole.
Physics came into play, and the moving object struck the immovable object with significant force. The moving object gave way, and the immovable object took up residency in the center of the truck... through the driver. It also shifted the truck, and the plow fell off, Vin and Chris still wrapped around it. The plow skittered down the street.
By this time, we were all at a dead run to the truck, and Nathan cursed himself for every shade of a fool to have been drinking. He knew he had no business tending to any patients, but he still couldn't stay back, he could at least look them over.
When we got there, it was grisly. The plow had flipped over, and underneath it were the still forms of our friends. Their arms were wrapped around each other, and their eyes were closed.
"Are they breathing?" Buck was yelling, dropping to his knees and reaching for their necks. "Nate, they're breathing. Call the ambulance. Damn it, Ezra, call the ambulance."
Ezra shook off his shock and automatically dialed, telling the dispatcher that ATF Agents were on scene and requesting immediate assistance.
It didn't take them long to get there, and before we knew it, we were at the hospital. It was not a pretty sight. Buck had blood all over him, while the rest of us stank and were sobering quickly.
Three hours later they said Vin was going to make it. A long, hard road to recovery, but he didn't take the brunt of the force. Chris did.
And Chris? Still in surgery.
Two hours after we got the news about Vin, they said Chris was hovering. That was the word they used -- hovering. He wouldn't stabilize, or if he did, then he'd crash just when they thought it was safe. The nurse said the doctor was planning on sleeping in one of the ICU beds to be close. They wanted us to go home, and they said we couldn't see him. He was that bad.
Buck told the nurse, "If the doc's camping out, then we're camping out." He then plopped himself in a chair and dared her to argue.
She didn't, and we stayed in that waiting room for hours.
Morning came, and they still couldn't get Chris stable. We were a mess. We prayed, paced, snarled at each other, took turns seeing Vin in his unconscious state with tubes everywhere, paced some more, sniped at each other, and finally collapsed.
We dozed, some of us, and I was one of them. This didn't feel right. It just didn't feel right. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Not at all.
Frustrated, ready to scream, and tired of those four walls, I decided to go outside and get some air. I needed it. I passed the gift shop, and one of the tabloid titles caught my eye. It got me wondering, because it talked about Whitney Houston.
As tired as I am, I don't know why I was thinking about Whitney Houston, or even why I cared, but one of her songs came into my head. You know, one of the really good early ones. It's always amazed me what the brain will think of, and the tangents it will go on. Oh. The hospital's playing one of her songs, and they have a couple speakers outside, too. So I listen.
// Each day I live, I want to be, a day to give, the best of me \\
Yeah, I want to give my best all the time.
// I'm only one, but not alone \\
There's six other sons-a-bitches that want the same thing I do, and we'll work hard at getting it. I like not being alone.
// My finest day, is yet unknown \\
It sure as shit isn't today.
// I broke my heart, for every gain, to taste the sweet, I faced the pain \\
Yeah, I busted my ass to get here, and dealt with some pretty serious opposition to stay here. And I'm staying, damn it. It's all the sweeter because I earned it; no one gave this to me. No one can take away all my hard work.
// I rise and fall, yet through it all, this much remains \\
This would be a time to fall.
// I want one moment in time, when I'm more than I thought I could be \\
Maybe I could have moved faster...maybe I could have done more, but there are no do-overs, so I'm going to have to work harder to get that moment.
// When all of my dreams are a heart beat away, and the answers are all up to me \\
I want to know something that will help. I feel so damn helpless, and not knowing is killing me. What can I do to help?
// Give me one moment in time, when I'm racing with destiny \\
Destiny. Fates already determined. Bullshit.
// Then, in that one moment of time, I will feel, I will feel eternity \\
One moment in time. Like a freeze-frame in my mind, I'm seeing the accident over and over again. First fast, then slow, and then even slower until I want to weep. I walk back inside, and I sit down in the waiting room -- again. No change -- still. Well, no change is good.
Gives me time to think. I don't want to think about this, but I don't have a choice. I'm wondering if I'm living up to my potential. And the damn speakers are still playing this song.
// I've lived to be, the very best \\
Yeah, right. The best wouldn't let your friends get run over by a pickup with a plow.
// I want it all, no time for less \\
I want them better, damn it. Time...hates me. Time hates us all, because when it matters, there's never enough time to act.
// I've laid the plans, now lay the chance here in my hands \\
I want another chance. I was the closest...I should have been able to do something.
// Give me one moment in time, when I'm more than I thought I could be \\
Damn it all.
// When all of my dreams are a heart beat away \\
"Hey, Kid. Wake up."
I shake my head. "Huh?"
"Kid, you're dreaming. It's your turn to watch Ezra."
"What?"
Buck hits me a few times in the head to make sure I'm awake.
"Get the cobwebs out of your noggin, Kid. It's your turn for the surveillance."
I'm at my desk. Why the hell am I at my desk with my face in my blotter and a radio on next to my ear?
Oops. I said that out loud.
"Kid, if you don't know why you're here, I can't help you, but I'll kick your butt across this room if you don't relieve Vin on the headset. He's itching for a walk."
"Vin wants a walk?"
"JD? Where the hell are you?" The familiar Larabee yelled carried through the hallways.
"It was a dream." I started laughing. "A dream."
"You'll be a dream if you don't get in there."
Buck shoved me toward the conference room, and when I got there, it was my shift... just like before. But I didn't dream before... at least I don't think I did.
Well, by the end of my shift, I was feeling pretty strange. The bust was over, and now we're at the Saloon. And then we're leaving.
It's happening again. There's the argument. And off they go, but I stayed close. Buck tried to stop me, but I shook him off. I also didn't drink this time, as I volunteered to be a designated driver.
// And the answers are all up to me \\
I know the answers, and I'm at peace with them. Yup, there's the truck, and what a surprise, it's playing my song.
// Give me one moment in time \\
I start running.
// When I'm racing with destiny \\
Destiny, you're not getting them this time.
// Then in that one moment of time, I will feel, I will feel eternity \\
I hit them hard, and send them both flying -- left this time, instead of right -- and I hear the truck's brakes squeal.
The truck hits the telephone pole, but it hits it head on this time, and the driver bounces off the airbag, saved this time because he didn't swerve right.
And it's over.
They're safe.
They're bitching, but they're safe.
Vin pushes me off, and Chris rolls free, and the both of them turn to stare at the truck that should have hit them. Then they stare at me, both their mouths hanging open.
"JD." Chris swallows once, twice, and he takes a deep breath.
"You did good, JD." Vin pats me on the back, helping me up. "Thanks."
Chris yanks me into hug, and after a split second, Vin clasps me too.
"Are you guys all right?" Buck and Josiah reach us at a run, checking us over for injuries.
Josiah hugs me too, and he whispers, "Well done, John Dunne."
I can't see, because my eyes are watering. Must be because of the burned rubber and smoke coming from the truck, because everyone else is having the same problem. They're wiping their eyes too.
Ezra and Nathan are with the truck driver, and the ambulance gets there fast. The driver was cut out of the truck and whisked away, while the police take our statements. The officers look at me with respect, especially when they see how emotional our usually jackass-acting team is carrying on. One of the officers picks up some property from the truck, and I see the Whitney Houston tabloid. Again -- and for the first time -- and that's really confusing the crap out of me.
But the song comes back, because the one police officer has his radio on with his patrol car door open.
// You're a winner for a lifetime, if you seize that one moment in time \\
I seized and saved it, thanks.
// Make it shine \\
Shine, hell, I'm dazzled. I didn't think I could do it.
// Give me one moment in time \\
One moment...two lives...seven hearts, whole again.
// When I'm more than I thought I could be \\
I didn't think I'd make it.
// When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away \\
There are seven heartbeats, and that's all I dream about. Seven beating hearts.
// And the answers are all up to me \\
"How did you know, JD? You were moving before we even saw the truck." Buck looks at me.
"I just did." I shrug.
// Give me one moment in time \\
Josiah's looking at me like he knows that I know...knew...damn, this tense thing is hard...more than I'm saying.
// When I'm racing with destiny \\
I won, damn it, and my friends are okay.
// In that one moment of time I will be, I will be, I will be free \\
There's an immense burden off my soul.
// I will be, I will be free \\
Okay, Fate. Destiny. The ability to shape destiny, and change fate. Maybe I believe in you a little more, and maybe I'll stop ignoring it when my dreams come true in some fashion. I've spent my lifetime denying that I dream things before they happen, and this just taught me a valuable lesson. Denying part of who I am and the gift I've been cursed with can be costly. One action, or inaction, changes everything.
Then there are the moments -- minutes or seconds that literally changes lives. They take lives, they grant lives, they create lives, and they destroy lives.
Today, the one moment granted four lives -- the lives of my two friends, the drunken truck driver, and me. I'm free to be me now, and there's nothing wrong with that.