Universe: ATF
Main Characters: Buck, Ezra, Chris
Disclaimer: Don't own them but wish I did. Not making money off of this, wish I could.
Warning: Rated R contains sexual situations and rape scene If you are under 18 years of age, please do not read any further!
Thanks to all those who wrote in this universe before me, especially Sue Kelley. I hope I didn't step on any toes. Thank you Mog for this playpen. Marla and Katy, you've been great, thanks for the encouragement! Comments are appreciated but I barely got up the nerve to submit this one so please, no flames.
Lucas Beddlington had been looking forward to this night for a long time. Tonight, he would shatter Buck Wilmington, destroying the two things he treasured most in the world, his friendships with Chris Larabee and J.D. Dunne and his manhood. And with his actions of tonight, he would probably destroy Chris Larabee as well. The violation of Wilmington's body, the degradation he would suffer, the feelings of impotence and subjugation that would haunt the potent , self confident ladies man for the rest of his life, were the pinnacle of Beddlington's revenge. His plan to make Buck think that the men he loved and trusted most in the world, were the perpetrators of the vile act, had only been hatched seven months ago in prison. When it had come to him, he had literally shouted for joy, forcing the man beneath him to beg for mercy. Besides, he liked doing men as much as women these days. Sex had always been about power for him, anyway. It had always been about forcing his will upon another human being. In prison, he had found that it was, perhaps, the ultimate power trip, for one man to strip every shred of self confidence and self appreciation from another man. Rape! He grew hard just thinking about the feeling of sheer domination that he would have as he rammed into Wilmington. He wished he could watch the lawman's face as he crushed the soul of his sworn enemy. His breathing grew rapid as he pictured the pitiful creature, screaming, begging for him to stop. No, he smiled, not him. Wilmington would be pleading with his young protégé to stop the torture, the violation that would forever be replayed when he closed his eyes.
For months now, unbeknownst to Team 7, Beddlington's people had been recording conversations amongst the seven men. Recording devices had been placed in Chris Larabee's home, in the ATF office, in Casey Welles' small efficiency apartment, and in every room of the condo shared by J.D. Dunne and Buck Wilmington. Lucas had several hundred hours of tape from which to select the perfect lines and phrases. His favorites were the ones in which J.D. could be heard making love to Casey. Lucas had precisely edited Casey's name from the tapes. Any tape which included Chris praising J.D. for a job well done or encouraging him to proceed was also extremely useful and carefully edited. The tape that Lucas treasured, however, was a fight between Chris and Buck which had occurred about six weeks ago. A bust had gone bad and as it usually occurred when things went wrong, Chris blamed his old friend, Buck. The fact that Buck had nothing to do with the mistake, or the fact that things had blown over in the space of two hours, did not change the exchange of words that Lucas now had on tape. He also had made use of the conversation about the old picture on the Web page. Chris claiming that Buck was guilty, no doubt about it, fit nicely in with Lucas's plans. Tonight, the tapes were ready and so was Lucas Beddlington.
Lucas turned at the sound of someone behind him. The huge Hispanic stood silently blocking the doorway. "Is our friend ready, Chico?" The giant of a man nodded. He had been looking forward to tonight also. Chico had always enjoyed watching his boss. It had always been females in the past and that had usually done the trick for Chico, but tonight was special. He was filled with anticipation, expecting a night to remember.
They entered the room which contained Buck Wilmington, who was tied by his hands and feet to the small table. His head hung between his arms. He didn't have the strength to lift it. The fiery pain was just beginning to wear off, his mind was still foggy with eight hours of excruciating torment. The agony still lingered in his chest and stomach though, and the pressure of the table was once again spreading the fire through his limbs. As he lay, tied over the table, he moaned. He no longer had the strength to scream. Or so he thought. He had no comprehension of what was about to occur, his mind was still focusing entirely on the fire in his chest.
"Ready Chico?" Lucas said softly as he approached the restrained body of Buck Wilmington.
The tape started. Buck perked up as he heard his old friend's voice. He listened to Chris encouraging J.D. to go for it. He turned his head slightly as he felt hands touching his bare skin. The warm hands slid caressingly over his hips and thighs. He heard J.D.'s voice asking Chris if he was doing it right. Just as the dark haired man heard Chris tell J.D. to take charge, he felt the hands grab his waist and pull him forcefully backwards. He screamed out in pain as he felt the hard cock enter him. He cried out as he listened to the sounds of J.D. having intercourse with him, groaning and moaning as he pumped into Buck, tearing his tender flesh as he did so. Buck cried as the crescendo increased, the invasion of his body and spirit too much for the tortured soul. He beseeched J.D. to stop. He begged Chris to make him stop. He pleaded for an end to the pain, for an end to the tortuous assault that his friends were subjecting him to. But they wouldn't stop. The assault on his body continued until he thought he would die right there, with J.D. pounding into his flesh with no compunction or hesitation. He heard J.D. saying, "Oh yes, oh God, that's so good. I need you so much. Oh yes, just a little more. Let me come in you. Oh, it feels so good." The pounding increased and the pain filled his every fiber, his mind raging at the thought that his brother would do this to him. He felt J.D. climax and then, finally, he withdrew from him. The final part of the tape, which replayed over and over again, was J.D. saying how much he had enjoyed his time with Buck (minus the part about the football game) and Chris telling Buck he was guilty and he deserved whatever punishment came his way. Buck hung limply over the table, unable to move, to get away from the voices of his friends. He whimpered softly as he listened to Chris and J.D.
Chico grinned. The tape was perfect and so was Lucas. Chico was proud of his boss and he was now in desperate need of a man of his own. Beddlington looked over at his right hand man. Lucas was well aware of Chico's preference in sexual activity. The giant of a man was flushed. He was rubbing his crotch and sweating profusely. Lucas smiled, a truly wicked expression on his face.
"Let me start the tape again, my loyal cohort. You deserve a bonus for all the work you have done on my behalf. Enjoy, Chico. Just put him back on the mattress when you're done." Lucas zipped his pants and straightened his clothes. He was laughing as he exited the room.
Vin sat at Chris's desk. His friend lay on the couch that was across from the desk. Vin studied Chris as he lay with his eyes closed. The strain and frustration of the past three days had taken its toll on Chris, more than the others. He had not slept, he had barely eaten, and his face was sunken and sallow. The only reason he was bathed and had on fresh clothes, was because Vin had forced him into the shower at his apartment. Chris was dying before their eyes and none of them knew what to do for him. Assistant Director Orrin Travis had come to their office yesterday and attempted to order Larabee to go home and rest, but Chris had totally ignored him and had gone back into his office, closing the door on his boss. Vin was at a lose as to what to do. They were all depressed, angry, frustrated, lost. They did not have one single clue to go on in their effort to find their missing companion. Buck had vanished and all their efforts to find him had left them feeling impotent and defeated. Hell, they hadn't even been able to find J.D., and they were beginning to think maybe he had been snatched too.
The phone rang and Vin punched the button for line one and answered, "Agent Tanner." He was not in the mood for one more phone call from one of Buck's women friends, who had heard through the office grapevine that their man was missing. They all meant well, but Vin had nothing to say to them that would cheer them nor did he want to hear their whining or cheery words of optimism.
"I would like to speak with Sergeant Larabee, please." The man's voice held a bit of sarcasm and something else, but Vin was too tired to catch it.
"Special Agent Larabee is not available right now. Can I take a message?"
"No. Tell Sergeant Larabee that he will talk to me. I will not be kept waiting. Tell him I have his lost item." The man sneered over the phone.
Vin suddenly sat up straight, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He pushed the hold button and rushed out into the bullpen. "Nathan, put a tape on line one. Josiah, get a trace going. I think this monster has Buck!" He ran back into the office as Chris was sitting down behind his desk. He had heard Vin's excited voice and knew it could only mean one thing.
With a shaking hand and a rage in his voice that none of them had heard before, he pressed the button and picked up the receiver. "Larabee. Who is this?"
"Well, Sergeant. How are you doing? It's been a long time. I've been having a lovely time with your partner here."
"If you've hurt him, I swear, I'll kill you."
"Such talk, Sergeant. I don't believe you're in any position to be talking to me like that. I was going to return Officer Wilmington to you, but now I don't know. Do you want that on your conscience, Sergeant?"
"What do you want?"
"Nothing. Frustrating, isn't it. Now, how do we negotiate with someone who doesn't want anything? We have nothing to offer that he doesn't already have."
Chris took deep breaths, trying to control himself. He needed to keep this man talking, to give Josiah time to trace the call. If he lost his cool, the man might hang up. 'Okay, how do we get him back?"
"Just continue to do what you have been doing since Monday, nothing." The voice laughed. He was enjoying himself immensely. "Would you like to speak to your partner?"
Chris almost cried with relief. "Yes," he said quietly.
"Let's see if he wants to talk to you." Lucas stood over Buck's listless form. He held the cell phone in his left hand and with his right hand, he injected Buck with his daily dose of BMH. As the fire surged through his body, Buck screamed, an animalistic sound of abject anguish. Lucas lowered the phone so that the overwhelming sound was loud in Chris's ear. "I guess he's busy. You see, he really hates to take his medicine, Sergeant. I'll call again tomorrow. Maybe he'll feel more like talking. Bye for now, Larabee."
Chris sat, the dead phone still in his hand. The scream echoed over and over again in his mind. The primal scream of a man in horrific pain. Chris knew that Buck never complained about pain. In all the years he had known him, all the injuries and wounds he had sustained, Buck had screamed like that only once. He had made a traffic stop and his jacket got caught in the door of the offending driver. The man had taken off and had dragged Buck for several blocks before coming to his senses. Buck's leg and side had been stripped of skin and tissue, baring ligaments and bone, and when Chris had opened the door and removed his friend from the offending vehicle, Buck had screamed and then lost consciousness. It was the same scream that Chris had just heard over the phone.
Nathan had heard it too as he listened in to the conversation while recording it for future evaluation. He removed the headset slowly and hung his head, tears falling freely onto the tape recorder. Josiah watched his best friend and moved to put a hand on his shoulder. Josiah pushed the rewind button and then the play button.
"Let's see if he wants to talk to you," he heard and then the scream. He gasped and turned to look at the door that led into the office of his boss and friend. Thank God Vin and Ezra were with him. He stayed with Nathan, trying to fathom what could have caused the pain that they had heard in that scream.
"Any luck with the trace?" A voice from behind him startled the huge agent and he turned to see Ezra, white faced and solemn.
"Nothing. He's blocking the signal. He could talk for hours and we'd never pick up where it was coming from. He's got good equipment, that's all I can tell you. How's Chris?"
"Silent, seething, angrier than I've ever seen him. We're losing him fast. Whoever this is that's doing this to Buck, must hate Chris just as much as he hates our Lothario. He knows exactly how to get to our leader. I'm afraid, Mr. Sanchez, that Mr. Wilmington's recovery will fall upon our shoulders. So, let's listen to the tape. Maybe we can pick something up."
The three of them played the tape over and over again, trying to hear the smallest noise that might lead them to where Buck was being held. They found nothing. They ran the tape through the best equipment the agency had and still they heard nothing. They were no further along than they had been before the telephone call. Except now, they knew that Buck was alive but he was being tortured.
In fact, they were in worse shape, for Chris was gone. He barely heard Vin. He didn't hear the others when they informed him that they could find nothing in the conversation that would lead them anywhere. All he heard was the scream. Chris sat deathly still for an hour. Vin had left the office to talk to Ezra about trying to rundown old cases that Chris and Buck had investigated while they were on the Denver PD. It had to be someone from the two's past that was exacting his revenge now. They would check the parole record for the past three months also. They all rushed to the office door when they heard the shattering of glass. It was followed by a scream to rival the one on the tape, but this one was of frustration, anger, and loss. Chris had lost it, perhaps for good this time. Vin couldn't help thinking, 'Is this what Buck dealt with for three years after Sarah and Adam died?' His admiration for the big man grew for Vin had no idea of how to help his friend through this ordeal.
Every time the telephone rang, five men jumped to their feet. They had waited and endured the silence all day yesterday and last night. Chris had refused to leave the office, convinced that any minute, the kidnapper would call and he would get a chance to talk to Buck. The phone rang numerous times but the voice on the other end was always the wrong one. Chris had paced continually, like a wild animal that is stuck into a cage, not knowing how to get out. He had refused food, barely drank any liquid, although Vin had the notion that given a bottle of whiskey, their boss might have barricaded himself inside his office and polished off the whole bottle in record time. Finally, around one in the morning, Chris had collapsed. His friends carried him to the couch in his office and he had slept there for eight hours straight, often barraged by nightmares, but never awakening. The others had made themselves as comfortable as possible, Josiah sleeping at his desk, Nathan on the chairs of the waiting room, Ezra took the table of the break room and Vin slept in Chris's high back office chair. They had gone over every file from the time Chris had made Sergeant until Chris and Buck split up. They cross referenced the list with recently released convicts. One name shown out above the rest, Lucas Beddlington. When Josiah got his hands on the report, he immediately came to the conclusion that this was a man who was entirely about control, not his own, but the domination of others. Josiah believed that the men Beddlington perceived were the ones responsible for taking away his power would certainly be on his mind for a long, long, time. Beddlington had the money and resources to pull off an elaborate scheme like this. Beddlington had been arrested and tried for rape and murder. Law enforcement did not touch his gun selling or drug dealing enterprises, and thus, Lucas Beddlington had tons of money flowing to him constantly with no outlet for it other than to plot and execute his revenge. Ezra pointed out that the man must have friends in high places for he was not paroled but had received a governor's pardon. Most men convicted of rape and murder did not find favor with the governor. However, once Beddlington had stepped foot out of the penitentiary walls, he had disappeared just as Buck had Friday night. The search was on for Beddlington's sanctuary.
Chris had remembered the case instantly. He had told the rest of his team how persistent Buck had been in finding the evidence to convict Beddlington. The victim had been one of Buck's favorite ladies and, he had vowed at the hospital to make the bastard that had violated her so viciously that she had lost the will to live, pay with his own life. The rape had been a gruesome affair and it had sickened Chris, but the attack had infuriated his partner beyond anything Chris had ever seen. The two of them had been on sexual abuse cases before and they really seemed to strike a nerve with Buck, but this one was particularly hard on his best friend. Chris remembered that Buck had told him about his mother and the way she had died during this case. Chris knew that Beddlington was evil enough, and vindictive enough, to be the one responsible for Buck's disappearance.
The telephone rang and five hands went to reach for their receivers. Vin got to his first. He took a breath, holding it until he heard J.D.'s voice on the other end.
"Vin, is Buck there. For some reason, he must have transferred our phone to the office. I needed to tell him that Casey and I will be home late Sunday night. You guys workin' on a big case?" J.D. sounded his exuberant self.
"Where the hell have you been, J.D.? We've been tryin' to reach you for days! God dammit, kid, you're suppose to carry your cell with you all the time!" Vin took the opportunity to vent some of his suppressed anger.
J.D. felt like he had been kicked by a mule. The first thing that came to his mind was that one of the team had been killed, but which one. "Sorry, Vin, Casey and I had a fight about the phone and she took it. What happened? Who's hurt?"
Vin sat down at his desk. It wasn't fair to the boy. He had no idea what the others had been through this week. Vin tried to calm his voice before saying any more. "J.D., you need to get back here as soon as you can." He hesitated before going on. "I'm sorry, Kid, but Buck's been abducted and we don't know where he is. We figure they took him the Friday night you left with Casey."
J.D. was silent on the other end. Vin could hear him taking ragged breaths. "Did you hear me J.D.?" Vin asked softly.
"Yeah," the voice was barely a whisper. "I'll be back by tonight, Vin. I got Buck's truck. I can't leave it and Casey here in the middle of the desert. Vin, you haven't heard from whoever took him at all?"
There was no way in hell Vin was going to tell J.D. about the phone call and the scream. The kid had to be able to drive so Vin simply said, "Nothin', J.D. You and Casey drive careful, you hear me. There ain't nothin' you can do right now." But get frustrated and angry like the rest of us, Vin thought. "J.D., keep your phone on in case we hear somethin', okay?"
"Yeah, okay Vin. We'll be there as soon as we can. Bye."
Lucas looked down at the limp, almost lifeless form of Buck Wilmington. This whole week had gone better than he had anticipated. Everything had gone off without a hitch. Lucas Beddlington could honestly say he was in a state of euphoria. Not only had the kidnapping itself gone so smoothly as to not leave the vaunted Team 7 with a single clue as to where the loveable Agent Wilmington was being held, but also Dr. Matheson's serum had done wonders with Wilmington's body. He was blind as a bat, in constant pain, totally devastated physically and mentally. And the rape was the coup de grace! Lucas found himself rubbing his groin. He had so enjoyed the feeling of ultimate power that had surged through him as Buck whimpered and moaned, begging the boy to stop. The tape was a masterful touch. Never again would Buck Wilmington and Chris Larabee be able to be in the same room, let alone be best friends. And the little brat agent, that Buck seemed to care for so much, was lost to him forever.
"Well, Officer Wilmington, it's time to go home. Chris and J.D. are waiting for you. You are anxious to see them, aren't you?" He laughed and turned to Chico. "Is everything set for our friend here to make his reappearance?"
"Yeah, boss. Jamie got the van from the florist like you said. He's at the parking lot waiting for me and him. The car is waiting by the florist's shop."
"Good. Then it's time to make the call and, while I'm doing that, you give him one more dose. The doctors will go nuts trying to figure out what's wrong with him." He turned his attention to the body by his feet. "I'll say good bye for now, Officer Wilmington, but I'm sure you'll see me in your dreams." He reached down and grabbed Buck's face in a vicious grip. "It's going to be a long time before you fuck up somebody's life again."
Lucas walked out of the room, never glancing back as Chico gave Buck another injection of BMH. He never even flinched at the scream of agonizing pain that escaped Buck's raw throat. He moved into the office and picked up the scrambled telephone.
Ring!
Chris picked it up on the first ring. He held his breath and whispered, "Larabee."
"So good to hear your voice again, Sergeant. Sorry, I just never found the time to call yesterday. Did you miss me?" God, he was having fun with this. Beddlington waited for his old nemesis to answer.
"Where is he, Beddlington?" It was all Chris trusted himself to say. His anger was over the top, he no longer had control of it but for Buck's sake he reined in his mouth.
"So, you figured out who this is. Good for you and your marvelous Team 7. At least you got one thing right. It didn't do Wilmington much good, but you managed to find out my name." Lucas smirked on the other end.
"Let me talk to him!" Chris was so tired of this damn game.
"I'll tell you what, Larabee. It's trash day and I think I'll clean house. You can have what's left of him back. When he wakes up, tell him it was better than I could have dreamt. Bye, bye, Larabee."
The phone went dead. Chris held the receiver in his stunned grasp. He looked up to see all four of his men staring at him. "Did you hear?"
They all nodded.
"Josiah, call Captain Dunbar. We need all the officers he can loan us. We've got to search garbage dumps, dumpsters, landfills. We've got to find where he left Buck!"
Officer Terry Allen was just walking out to his squad car in front of the 8th Precinct of the Denver Police Department, after dropping off a suspect for the detectives inside. They had made a good arrest and had gladly turned it over to the gold badges. It was time to clean out their squad and go home. Terry had a big night planned with his fiancé and he was ready to call it a day. His partner, Bob Brimley, was already leaning into the driver's side of the car, fishing out all his gear before they drove the squad car around back to the garage where the next shift would pick it up. Terry noticed the van drive slowly by his partner's open door but didn't think much of it as Peterson's Florist was just at the end of the block. He opened the passenger door and was just about to step in when he noticed the van stop about a hundred yards away. Something told him this wasn't right and when the rear doors opened, he yelled for his partner to get down and he dove behind his open door. What he saw, however, was not a man with a gun, but a man pushing something out onto the road. The van then sped away and Terry stood up, trying to determine what had been dumped out of the back of the van.
"Oh my God!" he exclaimed as he raced the hundred yards, followed closely by Bob. He knelt beside the nude body and felt for a pulse. "He's alive, I think. Go call for an ambulance and get the Sarge out here. Bob, give me your coat." Officer Brimley took off his coat, handed it to Terry, and ran back to the station house. Officer Allen gently draped his partner's leather coat over the shaking body. "Hang in there, buddy, help is on the way."
Chris Larabee stormed into the emergency room of St. Michael's Hospital. He and his men had been to this hospital many times before but never for an emergency like this one. The staff had been alerted to the tactics of Team 7 and they were ready for Larabee and the others. As the five men assaulted the front desk, Nurse Alice Cole slipped away and ran to Exam Room #5.
"They're here." It was all she said to the man in the blue hospital scrubs. He turned away from the examination table and steeled himself for the questions he had no answers for. He made his way out of Room #5, down the hallway, and straight into the fury of Chris Larabee.
"Where is he?" Chris demanded in a loud imposing voice. His friend had been brought to this hospital and no one was giving him the time of day. He wanted the doctor to tell him that Buck would be right out. And he wanted him to say it immediately.
"Chris, you have to settle down or you'll force me to call Security and Orrin Travis." Dr. Steven Vincent put his hand up to calm the fears of the five men before him. "I'll take you in to see him, Chris, but only after you've listened to me, okay?"
Chris was seething, his temper out of control. Luckily, Josiah and Vin were on either side of him and they held him firm. Chris was breathing fire at the white haired, patient man in front of him. He wanted all the answers right now! He didn't want to pussy foot around with high tech medical terms. He wanted Buck to be standing before him, safe and sound, and he wanted Beddlington's head on a platter.
"Now, let's all go sit down and stop causing such a disturbance."
Reluctantly, Chris let Vin and Josiah lead him to the waiting room. Several people got up and left the area, making room for the six men to have some privacy. After they were all seated, Dr. Vincent studied his hands for a second, preparing for the onslaught of questions. They came in rapid fire order, every man wanting to know something right now. He held his hand up and sealed his mouth in a tight line until they were all silent.
"He's alive, he's breathing on his own. In fact, we don't have any monitors on him right now. We've taken three blood samples and run them down to the lab for immediate analysis. He's on some sort of drug but I've never seen symptoms like this before. As far as outward injuries, we can't see any but a few old bruises and one or two lacerations on his face. He got scraped slightly when he hit the pavement but it's nothing. There are no broken bones, no head injuries, and no contusions. However ... " He stopped and knelt right in front of Chris, putting his hands on Chris's. "Buck is in extreme pain. We don't know exactly what's causing it but there is evidence of multiple injections. He's conscious, but he's not, his mind is overwhelmed by the pain. We believe that his vision has been impaired, we don't know how seriously yet since he isn't answering any of our questions. I'm sure he has no idea where he is. The paramedics who brought him in had a hard time keeping him on the stretcher. They said he screamed like a banshee when they touched him and frantically batted at their hands as they tried to hold on to him. He did the same with us, so right now, until we know what is causing the pain, we're leaving him pretty much alone. I was hoping, Chris, that maybe you could get him to settle down a little. He might respond to your voice or touch. Are you willing to try?"
Chris nodded, he had not asked a question or said a word since Dr. Vincent had made them all sit down. He listened to all the brilliant, trustworthy, doctor had to say but his mind was on the bastard who had done this to his oldest friend. Dr. Vincent stood and waited for Chris to join him.
The doctor led the leader of Team 7 down the hallway to Room #5. He had not told the five men who loved the tall lanky agent that the paramedics had been forced to use restraints to get Buck into the ambulance and that even with the restraints in place, Buck had fought them so frantically that they were unable to start an IV. He did not tell them that when Buck had been wheeled into the emergency room, where he had been probably two dozen times in the past year and a half as either a patient or a worried friend, that none of the hospital personnel had recognized him. It had been Alice Cole, who had gone out with Buck several times, that had finally come to realize that the pathetic, filthy creature that lay curled in a ball on the exam table was actually the tall, energetic, Casanova that they all liked. Dr. Vincent, when he was told who the patient was, had actually lost his lunch in the trash can. The man that lay before him, whimpering, moaning, thrashing wildly about, had been thoroughly abused and was no longer the man the doctor had come to admire. Dr. Vincent, himself, had taken the time to wash off as much of the filth and waste as he could before the rest of Buck's team got to the hospital. He paused before opening the door.
"It's not a pretty sight, Chris. For Buck's sake, you have to remain calm." He led the way in.
Chris stopped inside the doorway. His best friend, the man he had known for fifteen years, the man who had watched his back and had pulled him from the depths of despair, lay curled in a ball on the exam table. He was naked, dirty, shuddering, and whimpering like a newborn pup looking for the warmth of his mother. Chris started to move around the table but stopped when Dr. Vincent laid a hand on his arm.
"He may not recognize you, Chris. He's pretty far gone. Just talk to him and try to reassure him so that we can do a thorough examination on him. He panics when we try to straighten him out. We're afraid he may hurt himself if we force the issue. Just stay calm yourself, Chris."
Chris nodded to the doctor but his eyes remained glued on the figure laying on the table. He made his way to the side of the exam table that Buck was facing. Chris swallowed hard and wiped away the tears that flowed down his cheeks. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out a hand to touch Buck's shoulder. "Hey Buck, it's Chris. Can you hear me, Pard?"
Dr. Vincent had seen these two men fight off death before. They seemed to have a bond between them that was seldom seen except maybe between old married folk. They connected on some deep level that no doctor could ever reach. Dr. Vincent didn't know how far Chris could reach inside Buck this time, but he knew that if anyone could touch Buck's soul, it was Chris Larabee. Never in a million years would Dr. Vincent have expected the reaction that came from Chris's voice reaching the cowering man.
As soon as Chris's voice reached Buck's ears and the tiniest bit of recognition set in, Buck Wilmington screamed "NOOOOO!" and did everything possible that he could in his condition, to get as far away as he could from the man he had loved for fifteen years. He threw himself off the table on the opposite side from Chris and no one was there to break his fall. When he hit the floor, he crawled as quickly as his weak, trembling limbs would take him to the corner of the room, beneath a table of gowns and towels. As the strange voices descended on him, he flung his hands out, trying desperately to ward off the hands that he instinctively knew reached for him, that tried to pull him back out of the corner. "No, no, no, don't hurt me, don't hurt me." Buck mumbled over and over, as he tried frantically to get further away from his friend, his brother, his defiler.
Cautiously, Dr. Vincent made his way toward the frightened animal in the corner. Chris was frozen in place, his hand still extended. He watched in shock as the doctor forcefully grabbed Buck's arm and pulled him out from under the table. Three orderlies grabbed Buck from Dr. Vincent. They held him securely and laid him on the table once again. He fought them with all the strength he had left but he was so feeble, he couldn't begin to stave off their grip on him. They pulled his arms and legs straight and forcefully held him there until Dr. Vincent and two nurses could secure the restraints. When it was all done, Buck was restrained with leather straps on his ankles, wrists, and chest. His head whipped frantically back and forth, foam coming from his mouth. He fought as strenuously as he could but the restraints held. Chris had been shoved aside and, for once, he didn't complain. Silently, he made his way out the door and back to the waiting room.
"What happened, Chris?" Josiah was the first to notice his return. "Chris, how is he?"
Their leader never said a word. He walked to the chair in the far corner and sat down, turning his head to the wall. They could see his shoulders shake with the tears that fell. None of the others approached him for a long time. They simply huddled together in shock.
Ezra Standish stood up and stretched. He looked down at his fellow agents who had not spoken to one another in over half an hour. He had to do something. No one had said a word to them about Buck's status. Chris still sat, incommunicado, in the far corner, Vin by his side. Nathan sat with his head in his hands and Josiah seemed to be praying. Ezra slipped out without any of them noticing he was gone. He made his way down the hall, peeking in any doors he came to. Finally, he came to Exam Room #5. He opened the door a crack. On the table, covered with a sheet, lay his comrade, Buck Wilmington. The big man was restrained, leather straps holding his wrists and ankles. He looked deathly pale. Ezra saw that his hands were twitching slightly and then he heard the moan coming from his friend. Ezra looked around the room but saw no hospital personnel. It angered him that they had tied his friend down and simply left him to suffer all alone. He eased his way in and went to Buck's side.
"Hello Buck, it's me, Ezra. I'll stay with you if you want me to," he said softly, his Southern drawl more pronounced when he spoke in hushed tones. He watched as the hand closest to him stopped it's ceaseless clenching and opened, straining against the leather holding it. Ezra took it in his own and felt the fingers grip him. "Oh God, Buck, what did they do to you. I am so sorry, my friend. Well, I am here now. I will not leave you alone to suffer in solitude. I promise you, Buck, no one will hurt you again." He stroked the matted hair and held on to the hand that gripped his own.
Buck's eyes opened slowly and Ezra made sure he was standing over Buck when they opened all the way. He smiled at Buck but there was no recognition in the dark blue eyes below him. "Hello my friend. How can I assist you?"
"Ezra...........don't leave..........me," the hoarse whisper came from trembling lips.
Those four simple words carried more weight to Ezra Standish than the all the words in the Bible. They conveyed all the suffering and anguish that the soul before him had suffered for the past week. They bore directly into Ezra's heart, and it cried out to the man laying strapped to the table before him. With a tear rolling silently down his cheek, he firmly stated, "I won't, Buck, I promise. I'll stay as long as you need me. I won't leave you, you have my word as a Southern gentleman. I've got to let go of your hand for a minute but I'll be right here." He let go of Buck's hand and quickly made his way to the foot of the table. He spoke loud enough for Buck to be able to hear him, "Just try to relax and I'll release these bindings. I can't believe they did this to you." He started to undo the leather restraints. He had both ankles released and was unbuckling the first wrist when a nurse came into the room.
"What are you doing? Stop that immediately!" She screamed at Ezra and tried to physically stop him.
As gently as he could, the Southerner pushed the nurse away. She stumbled backwards and he finished releasing the left wrist. He moved deliberately around the table and started on the right wrist. The nurse exited and Ezra could hear her calling for the doctor and security.
By the time Dr. Vincent and two security officers arrived, Ezra was sitting beside Buck, holding his hand, singing "Hush little baby, don't say a word..." The doctor stopped just inside the door and held his hand up to stop the security guards. The patient was curled into a ball again but his right hand had a firm grip on Ezra's left. He was facing Ezra and only inches separated them from one another. Buck Wilmington seemed peaceful for the first time since he had been brought in. Dr. Vincent shooed the security guards back out and he quietly made his way to stand behind Ezra.
"Can I help you with anything, anything at all?" he asked the Southern agent. He was totally amazed at the difference between how these two were communicating and what had happened when Chris had tried the same thing.
"We need some pillows, three should do it. And then, if you do it gently, please, bandage his hands. I believe those are bite marks on his thumbs and fore fingers." Ezra never looked at the doctor and he spoke softly in his soothing Southern drawl, not wanting to upset Buck any further. Dr. Vincent got the pillows and watched as Ezra placed one under Buck's head and, then, offered the next one to Buck to hold on to as he lay in the fetal position. The big man took the pillow and held it tight against his chest, as a baby would a favorite blanket. He placed the third behind Buck's back and noticed Buck wince as he did so. "He can't see, Doctor. And he's scared to be left alone. I plan on staying with him until he no longer needs my assistance, if that's all right with you, sir."
"That's just fine, Mr. Standish. I'll let the staff know. I'm going to get Alice to help me tend those bite marks. Can I bring you some coffee, Ezra?" Dr. Vincent was on his way out the door.
"I would very much appreciate a cup of your finest brew, Dr. Vincent. Would you also convey to my compatriots that I am ensconced here with Mr. Wilmington in the event that they should require my presence?" Ezra returned to singing to the now peaceful patient.
Dr. Vincent was still shaking his head when he arrived in the waiting room. Four men approached him, fear in their eyes. He smiled to reassure them that nothing was wrong.
"Mr. Standish is doing a wonderful job with him. Buck is resting comfortably and we will take him up to a private room in the next hour or so. For now, I would say that the rest of you should remain here and not try to see Buck. Ezra seems to be a comforting influence on him, but I don't know if the rest of you would be. I'm sorry, Chris, but witnessing the way he reacted to you, I don't want a repeat performance. Let's just keep things as they are for right now. The lab can't seem to figure out what the drug in his system is so, as soon as we can, we'll start a saline IV with glucose and nothing else until we know more. I'll let you know when we move him." The doctor turned to go.
"Ezra's with him, Doc?" Vin was stunned. They hadn't even realized that Ezra was missing.
"Yes. He's pretty amazing. Maybe it's the drawl or the soft touch, I'm not sure, but Buck is holding on to him as if his life depended on it, so we are leaving Ezra alone with him. Any other questions?"
Chris walked up to the doctor. "Can I just peek in? I won't say a thing, I promise."
Dr. Vincent hesitated for a few seconds. "Sure, Chris."
Chris walked down the hall with Vin at his side. They slowly pushed open the door to Exam #5 and watched Ezra Standish, the lone wolf, con man extraordinaire, dealing with their fallen friend as if he was holding a newborn baby. After a few minutes, Ezra looked up at them and smiled, his gold incisor twinkling in the dim light of the hospital room. Chris nodded and turned away. Vin stayed for a few more seconds. He tipped an imaginary hat to Ezra and closed the door.
J.D. got off the elevator and ran down the hallway, leaving Casey in his wake. He saw Josiah and Nathan standing at the end of the hallway and made his way directly to them.
"Where is he? How is he? How did you find him? Is he going to be all right? Is Chris with him?" He was a bundle of nerves and he wanted answers. He wanted them right now!
Josiah grabbed the small man by the shoulders, gripping tighter than he should have. "Will you calm down! Dammit, J.D., just shut up for a minute." Josiah was tired and scared. He didn't mean to take it out on J.D., who was only worried about his best friend. Josiah took a deep breath and explained, "He's inside this room, J.D., but you can't go in until you calm down. He can't take you this way."
J.D. looked up at the ex-preacher and, with a slight shudder, he forced himself to settle down. The trip back to Denver had been the longest fourteen hours he could ever remember. Casey had driven most of the way. He had been too nervous to drive. Nathan had called about eight thirty to tell him that Buck had been found and that he was at St. Michael's but he hadn't told J.D. just how badly injured Buck was. J.D. had taken consolation in the fact that Chris was with him. It was often Chris that sat by his side because he was more of a calming influence on the big man than J.D. was. J.D. couldn't deal very well with his "big brother" being sick or wounded.
"How bad is he hurt, Josiah?" It was almost a whisper. The eyes pled with Josiah to tell him that everything would be all right.
Josiah's heart went out to the lad. Ever since he had joined the team, J.D. had been under Buck's wing. The ladies man had found a place in his heart for the orphaned young man and the two, although seemingly worlds apart, had become the family that both desired so much. Two lost souls had found solace in one another. Buck had not only opened his heart to the boy but his home as well. They fought like the proverbial Cat and Dog but when anybody threatened, they closed ranks and would defend each other to the end.
"Son, he's resting now but it's been a slow road back from the excruciating pain that he was in when he first arrived at the hospital. The doctors can't seem to identify the drug that was injected into his system. So, for right now, they don't want to put anything into him that might react with the drug. They have him on an IV with glucose for dehydration and hypoglycemia. They added a small dose of Demerol at Chris's request." Josiah shook his head, remembering how adamant Chris had been that Buck be given some sort of pain killer. In fact, he had threatened Dr. Vincent with his gun if the doctor didn't do something to help his old friend get through the mind numbing pain. Dr. Vincent had acquiesced and a small dose of the pain killer was added to Buck's IV. "J.D., Buck doesn't appear to be injured very seriously on the outside but the doctor's haven't been able to check the inside yet. You see, Buck hasn't let anyone but Ezra near him since they brought him to the hospital. He panics and struggles to get away from every other person. The doctors did manage to obtain three blood tests and whatever designer drug Beddlington put in his system, they can't seem to isolate the components. Evidently, he was injected numerous times with this drug. What it's doing to his internal organs, we don't know yet. So, now that Ezra has him quiet and resting, we want to stay that way, okay?"
J.D. looked at Josiah with a quizzical eye. "Where's Chris? Buck always does better with Chris by his side."
The gentle giant froze. He didn't know what to say to the young man about the way that Buck had reacted to Chris. Nathan stepped in to help his friend out.
"Chris is here, J.D. He and Vin left just a few minutes ago to get something to eat. However, for some reason that we don't know yet, Buck had an adverse reaction to Chris's presence. He freaked out, J.D., and Dr. Vincent thinks he might hurt himself if Chris goes into his room again. Thank God for that damned Southerner. Buck settled down the minute Ezra got to his side. Now that you're here, though, I bet you'll be a big help to Buck. But, like Josiah said, you have to be calm and quiet. You think you can do that, J.D.?"
Casey had come up behind J.D. and she heard what Nathan had to say to the young man whom she loved. She felt so guilty about not letting J.D. call his friends. If she had known that there was a problem, she would have returned with J.D. immediately. Now, J.D. hated her for keeping him from helping find his mentor, best friend and big brother. He seemed to think it was his fault that Buck had been abducted and consequently, her fault too. She put a hand on his back and quietly said, "Go on in, J.D. You can do it. He needs you."
J.D. didn't look at Casey. He was too angry with her right now. If she hadn't made him promise not to call back to Denver, he could have been here when Buck and the others needed him. He prayed to God that it wasn't too late for Buck. He turned and entered the darkened room.
A light glowed at the head of Buck's bed but most of the room was dark and comforting in a way. He saw Ezra wiping Buck's face with a cloth, whispering comforting words to him. Ezra stroked his hair as one would a small child. Buck was curled up on his side, facing Ezra, away from the door. IV tubes ran to his arm and the wiring for a heart monitor ran to his chest but no other monitors were in the room. J.D. stood in the doorway, watching the interplay of the two men for several minutes before Ezra noticed him. He signaled for J.D. to come over to his side of the bed.
J.D. moved around the corner of the bed and put his hand over his mouth to hide the slight gasp that tried to escape. The big man he adored was laying there, holding on to Ezra as a lifeline. His face was so pale with dark circles under each eye. Faint bruising darkened the left side of his face and there was a small healing cut by his eye. His hair was dirty and matted down. His eyes were open but they did not look at Ezra nor did they seem to take in the fact that J.D. was standing there. Buck's hand that clung to Ezra was bandaged.
Ezra smiled at J.D. He turned to Buck and whispered to him, "J.D. is here, my friend." He started to get up to make room for Buck's little brother. The hand holding his gripped tighter. "It's all right, Buck. You can hold on to J.D. now. He's right here."
Buck's body tensed. He wouldn't let go of Ezra and Ezra decided not to pull away. He looked closely at Buck's face and didn't like what he was seeing. He had thought that Buck would be relieved when J.D. arrived and that he would let J.D. take over Buck's care. But Buck's face held a look of panic, not love like it normally did when J.D. walked in the room.
J.D. walked up and put his hand on Buck's shoulder. Buck flinched and reached for Ezra with his other hand. J.D. pulled his hand back like he would from a hot stove. "It's just me, Buck. I got back as fast as I could."
Buck pulled away as far as he could, dragging the smaller Southerner with him. "Don't let him hurt me. Don't let him touch me again. Please, Ezra, please." Buck beseeched Ezra, his voice pathetically small. His entire body was shaking, trembling with fear.
Ezra placed a protective arm around Buck's body and commanded, "J.D., leave."
J.D. was stunned. His best friend had acted like he had tortured him with just a mere touch. He took a small step backwards but didn't move further. "I didn't do anything, Ezra."
"J.D., get out of here!" Ezra startled him with the force of the order. J.D. turned and ran from the room.
"What the hell happened, J.D.?" Nathan moved quickly to support the young man who stood pressed against the wall. J.D. was as white as a ghost. He couldn't seem to catch his breath and Nathan couldn't begin to imagine what had gone wrong inside the hospital room.
"I swear, I didn't do anything. He acted like I was going to hurt him, Nathan! Why would he do that?" J.D. looked up at Nathan with the most forlorn look Nathan had ever seen.
Nathan put his arms around J.D. and then he pulled Casey into his embrace also for she looked as despondent as J.D. did. "I don't know what that man did to him, J.D., but it wasn't your fault. You have to remember that J.D. You didn't hurt Buck. That maniac did!"
As Nathan rushed to J.D.'s side, Josiah ran into the hospital room to find Ezra trying to calm Buck down. The tortured soul that lay on the bed was shaking visibly and crying softly. Ezra was talking to him, soft soothing words that Josiah could not really make out.
"Can I help, Brother?" the oldest team member inquired quietly. Josiah had no idea what to do for Buck. This whole situation was so bizarre, so totally foreign to all of them.
"Could you get me the ice water over there and wet this cloth. The coolness seems to help a little." Ezra had taken charge so completely, not seeming to be baffled as the rest of them were. Josiah brought the cold water and dipped the cloth in it. Wringing it out, he handed it over to Ezra. Ezra took it from him and proceeded to wipe the perspiration away from Buck's face and neck. The patient began to relax a little and Ezra finally looked up at Josiah. "Do you think you could sit with him for a while?"
The big man hesitated for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he replied, "I'll certainly give it a try. You better stay handy though until we see how he's going to react."
Ezra nodded. "Buck, Josiah is going to sit with you for a few minutes. He's not going to hurt you, I promise." Ezra pried Buck's fingers from his sweater and placed the hand in Josiah's. Buck seemed to accept the changing of the guard as Josiah spoke softly to him. Ezra stood and stretched his tired muscles. He was hungry and wanted to wash up. He slowly eased away from beside the bed and went into the small bathroom attached to the hospital room. He was tired but he knew there would be no rest for him until Buck could sleep. He looked at himself in the mirror and wondered when he had come to care so much for the six men he worked with, and especially the scoundrel that now lay on the bed in the other room. He hated to but he had to admit to himself that he would do just about anything to help his new "family", to protect them from harm and hurt.
"What kind of a monster would do something like this to another human being?" he questioned the person in the mirror. He had sat with Buck long enough to know some of the pain he had endured during the past eight days. Buck had barely spoken, but the few words that he had gotten out to Ezra were so filled with pain and fear, that Ezra didn't know if the loving, caring man that Buck had been would ever return to them again. He quickly washed his face and went back to where Josiah sat with Buck.
"What happened with J.D., Son?" Josiah looked up at Ezra and saw the anger and trepidation that fought with each other every time Ezra looked at Buck. He wondered if Buck would ever tell them the whole truth about what had happened while he was gone. Ezra surely knew more than the other five of them did but he wasn't talking either.
"Our Mr. Dunne spoke Mr. Wilmington's name and then put his hand on his big brother's shoulder. Our fallen comrade reacted adversely, as he did with our esteemed leader. The total panic that gripped Buck made me determine that the boy was not welcome in this room. The two men that Buck loves the most, seem to be the ones that scare our fallen comrade the most. He must have been brain washed, Josiah. They must have planted some seed in his mind that has grown to a giant Sequoia as far as Mr. Larabee and Mr. Dunne are concerned. This Mr. Beddlington must have spent a long time planning his abduction, and he obviously knows enough about our companions to know how best to destroy both Buck and Chris. The unfortunate lad is just a side bar to the atrocities which laid waste to Mr. Wilmington."
"What are we gonna do, Ezra?" Josiah stroked Buck's hair. The man was still trembling from his encounter with J.D. "Three of our brethren our suffering and I can't see any way to help any of them through this."
"Alas, Mr. Sanchez, I see no other aid but time and understanding. This man before you is not the gregarious Mr. Wilmington that we all love but merely an empty shell. I can only hope that we shall eventually retrieve our scoundrel from the ashes." He sat down on the bed and watched as Buck drew a ragged breath and curled even tighter around himself. "I'll take him back now, Josiah. I made him a promise and I do not intend to break it."
Josiah stood, understanding that Ezra needed to hold onto Buck almost as much as Buck needed to hold onto Ezra. "Do you need anything, Ezra?"
"Some edible food and a carafe of good coffee would be welcome. The hospital equivalent of coffee is horrendous."
"I'll see what I can do, son. Take care of our broken brother."
"I will sir, I will."
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Epilogue
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