Chapter Text
Story I
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** Denver, Colorado **
** August **
Police cars, corner's vans, and media filled the once quiet suburban neighborhood. Newspaper reporters clamored for interviews, demanding to know what happened, while local TV stations sent out live updates. The CSI teams bagged evidence and took picture after picture of the crime scene, while officers worked to hold back morbidly curious onlookers.
Officer Rick Taylor, a 10-year veteran on the force, had never seen anything like the scene that greeted them in the house, and he prayed to God that he never would again. A father himself, Taylor was sickened to his core by the thought that someone could lash out so violently towards his own family. When the lead investigator had called for volunteers to search the property surrounding the moderate four-bedroom brick home, Taylor was quick to step forward, dragging his rookie partner, Jeff Michaels, outside with him. As he approached an area near a big tree, he heard a muffled yelp come from somewhere above his head. Bewildered, the officer looked up to see a tree house hidden in the branches. He heard another sound, this time it sounded like puppy barking and it was definitely coming from the tree house. A dog could not have gotten up there on his own.
"This is Officer Taylor," he spoke into his radio. "I've located a tree house in the rear left quadrant of the property with possible movement, I need backup and a ladder to proceed."
Within minutes, a ladder was provided and carefully propped in the opening. Officer Michaels secured the bottom as Taylor made his slow ascent. If anyone was in there, they'd know someone was coming up. Cautiously, Taylor stuck his head into the opening, only to have his jaw drop in surprise when he caught sight of a small form huddled in the far corner.
"There's a kid up here!" he gasped in shock.
"What?!" came the incredulous replies from the officers gathered below.
"A kid!" he repeated. "A small one, too. He's gotta be younger than Derek…" he whispered to himself.
Derek was Taylor's youngest son, who would be starting kindergarten in the fall.
"Is he ok?" Michaels called up worriedly. He came from a large family and was about to become a father himself, so he had a definite weak spot for kids.
"I can't tell. He's all curled up in a ball back in the corner. He's breathing, though." Taylor crouched low to enter the rest of the way into the wooden structure. The tree house creaked at his added weight, but held firmly.
He kneeled down next to the child and noticed for the first time the black eye that had been hidden by the shadows. He cursed to himself. The kid hadn't escaped unscathed. Taylor then took note of the boy's bare feet and the abnormal shape and obvious bruising of his small right foot. His stomach turned, someone or something had broken the toddler's foot. A small lump, now recognizable as a puppy, wiggled around inside the boy's shirt and another muffled bark emitted from the creature held in the boy's protective embrace.
Gently, Taylor laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Kid? Are you ok, son? Can you hear me?"
The small body gave a tiny gasp and he managed to roll his head a bit. The uninjured right eye fluttered.
"Hey, good, good." the cop sighed with relief, he'd been terrified the child was badly injured…of course it was still possible that he was and he just hadn't seen the wound yet. "Are you ok? Are you hurt anywhere besides your foot?"
The child struggled to lift his head, but it was as if that simple act took too much energy.
Taylor caught a glimpse of a nasty laceration and lump on the child's forehead and cringed at the thought of a head injury.
"We're going to need an ambulance here!" he called down to his partner. "He's got a pretty bad cut and a goose egg on his forehead, and there's no way this foot isn't broken."
"It's on the way; should be here in a few minutes," Michaels replied.
"I need to pick you up," Taylor told the boy, slowly reaching his arms out. "Is that okay?"
A hooded green eye stared at the officer for several tense moments while the child obviously tried to figure out what the officer was asking. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the child lifted up one arm, the other still firmly around the squirming puppy. Taylor breathed another sigh of relief and carefully gathered the slight child into his arms, securely placing one arm underneath both the boy's legs and holding him tightly to his body.
"We're coming down," he called to his partner, then slowly started backing out of the tree house.
A large number of police and other personnel had gathered around the tree, desperate to see the small miracle hidden there, a sole survivor of a brutal scene. The sight of the small child, arm wrapped around the officer's neck, lifted their heavy hearts, after having to document the bloody death of the two other young boys who had lived and died in this house. Killed by their father's hand. The question was, who was the child? He was in none of the family photos, and none of the bedrooms were full of toys and books appropriate for a child of his age. Who was he?
The awaited ambulance wove through the sea of reporters, backing onto the lawn as close to the gate to the backyard as it could get. The paramedics jumped from their rig and ran to the backyard with their supplies.
The paramedics quickly noted the probable broken foot, rapid pulse, head wound, and blood loss, and agreed that it was imperative to get the child to the hospital as soon as possible. They gently pried him from the protective embrace of his rescuer and settled him onto a backboard. The child's green eye began to close as emotional and physical shock tugged him into unconsciousness. Officer Taylor stepped forward to retrieve the puppy, but even unconscious, the little one would not release his grip on the animal. Pressed for time and having no desire to inadvertently cause further harm, both the boy and the dog were loaded into the ambulance. Lights flashing and siren wailing, the vehicle rushed its precious cargo to the hospital.
~*~
Mary Travis, a social worker for the Denver area, had no idea what to do with her newest charge. The child was going to need special care once out of the hospital. He'd need someplace where he could feel safe and the media wouldn't find him. There was only one place that fit her criteria. One family who, thankfully, was still certified and on the books as an option: the Larabee-Wilmington's.
If she was going to accomplish this goal, her first plan of attack was to have a face-to-face meeting with her two old friends. She called ahead to make sure the couple could meet with her and was pleased to hear they could have her over that very day. Once seated in their living room, she went to work.
Sighing, she twisted her fingers and glanced pleadingly at the two men, knowing the effect those carefully planned 'nervous' actions would have on the softhearted ranchers.
"I'm sorry to bother you, especially on such short notice, but I have a situation."
"It's no trouble seeing you, Mary. You know you're always welcome out here," Buck assured her warmly.
"What's goin' on?" Chris pressed, unsure as to what could have Mary in such a dither.
"Well the state has just added a new child to my caseload. He was found a couple days ago, hiding in the backyard of the home of the triple murder/suicide case in Denver. I'm sure you've seen it on the news." At the men's nods, she continued. "He apparently was somehow related to the family, but no one is quite sure how, nor do they have any clue where his parents are, who they are, or if they're even alive. Honestly, we don't even know the poor child's name," she admitted, looking down into her lap.
"Why the hell not?! Was he hurt?" Chris demanded; he had no patience for people who hurt children.
"Actually, he managed to escape with some bruises, a laceration on his head which caused a moderate concussion, and some broken bones in his right foot," Mary reported.
Buck was confused; he didn't think the kid should still be unconscious if that was the extent of his injuries. "Then why don't y'all know his name?"
"The reason we don't know anything, is because he hasn't made a sound since he was found. Not a single peep. We're not even sure he can talk. According to the doctors, though, there are absolutely no medical reasons as to why she shouldn't be able to speak. They suspect that this all stems from the psychological trauma he suffered in the incident."
"Damn," Chris muttered. He hated to hear stories of traumatized children. He and Buck ran a summer camp for foster children and every summer, they heard horror stories of what their campers had been through. Every year it made him grateful that they managed to save their three adopted sons before they'd been permanently affected by the overworked foster system.
"Poor kid," Buck lamented with sorrow. No child should ever be traumatized, especially not to the point where they won't, or can't speak.
"Yes. And he's so small," Mary told them, looking into their eyes plaintively. "He's three or four at the most, and he's got the palest green eyes I've ever seen. They seem to reach into you, checking to see if you're going to hurt him too."
Buck swallowed a lump in his throat at her description.
Chris, however, had his suspicions as to the reason for Mary's visit. "What's this got to do with us, Mary?"
Mary cursed inwardly; he caught on already. She had known he would, but it was a bit sooner than she'd anticipated. She really wanted the pitiable little boy to come here, though, so she wouldn't give up. She'd just move on to the next phase.
"You see, my problem is, he's being released from the hospital tomorrow and I have nowhere to place him. I just can't put him in a group home or anything like that; the psychologists say he needs a good, stable environment while he heals if he's to have any chance of recovering from the trauma. In addition, he needs special care for a while, especially during the first week out of the hospital. Someone squeezed his foot and crushed the bones. The orthopedist says he isn't to put any weight on it at all for at least a week."
"And…" Chris prompted, knowing what was coming but wanting her to actually say what she'd been leading up to.
"Technically you're still on the books as approved foster parents, even though Vin's adoption went through almost three years ago and you haven't taken anyone in for a while. But, you're still approved due to the home checks for the summer camp. I was hoping you might be willing to take him in. At least short term," she finished optimistically.
Chris was hesitant. "I don't…."
Buck, however, wasn't, and jumped in, interrupting his lover, "Of course we'd be willing!" He knew they had plenty of room for another child, and JD had been getting really self-reliant lately. Buck was missing having a little someone look up to him and depend on him.
Now that Mary had them at least considering the opportunity, she wanted to make sure they could really do it. It was her job to make sure the child was placed with people who could properly care for him and she took it seriously.
"Are you sure?" she questioned cautiously. "A preschooler is much different than a 6-year-old. They need help with almost everything: getting dressed, going to the bathroom, going to bed, getting into a car… They need almost constant supervision. He would also need to be able to come to you in the middle of the night, which would mean less…privacy for the two of you," she warned with a pointed look. "And this is just for a normal 3 or 4 year old."
"Are you trying to talk us out of it now?" Chris challenged, thrown by her sudden warnings.
"No, not in the least. I just want to be sure the two of you know what you'd be getting yourself into," Mary told them honestly. "I don't want to get a phone call in a few days asking me to come pick him up because you weren't prepared for the responsibility and hard work of having a preschooler. I don't want to have to uproot the poor boy again and upset him even further," Mary shot back. She took her work seriously, and the well-being of her kids meant more to her than risking upsetting a friend.
Buck held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Calm down, you two. Mary, you're right. It's best we go into this knowing what to expect before we make any final decisions. It's an injured little boy's future we're dealing with, not some…some…puppy!"
Chris nodded his head in agreement with his lover's words. He sighed, "'m sorry Mar. You just kinda shocked me when you did that complete180. It was quite a change after all that work you did trying to make us want the kid. Go on with what you were sayin' 'bout him."
"Thank you. Well, as I said, he won't be able to walk around for at least a week, and you'll need to make sure he doesn't. Walking on his foot could misalign the bones again; possibly even cause permanent damage. You'll have to carry him everywhere. His silence complicates these matters though, as it means he'll be unable to get your attention or call for you if he needs help."
"Right," Chris agreed, beginning to understand the magnitude of the level of care the small boy would need, and just why Mary was being so careful about the placement.
Mary continued, "He'll be on prescription medications for a while, including pain medications which will make him sleepy. The psychologists also warned there's a good probability of him having nightmares. We're not sure how much of the murders he saw or heard, but we do know he, himself, was attacked. His entire former residence is now labeled a crime scene, so he doesn't have any clothing. On top of all this, the investigators haven't been able to find much information at all about him. No schoolwork, which isn't that surprising considering his probable age, no signed drawings, no documents about the child. The only evidence to show that the child even exists is a short note from a woman, believed to be his mother, thanking the wife of the home for agreeing to look after her 'darling boy'. Still, the boy was never mentioned by name and the note was unsigned. The note referred to some money sent along to supplement the family's income for the added cost of the boy, and possibly payment for taking care of him." She shook her head at the idea of paying a relative to care for her son for a long period of time. What kind of mother could give up her child for so long?
Buck interrupted her musing, "We can handle his meds. We've both been on pain meds at one time or another, and JD has Adderal to take daily. Clothes are easily taken care of, too."
"We'd have buy some," Chris warned. "None of the boys were that young when we got them. JD was kind of small for a six-year-old, but he was definitely bigger than a preschooler."
"Well, hopefully, they'll release some of his things soon so you wont have to buy so much," Mary told them. "And more importantly, so he'll have something familiar. I truly doubt any of the children's things will be taken in for evidence, unless, God forbid, it has blood on it."
Chris and Buck cringed at the reminder of the grisly murders.
"Are you two sure you want to do this?" Mary questioned one last time.
"We're positive," Buck immediately answered for the both of them.
Chris hesitated, then gave a short nod. "We've been talking about taking in another foster child for a while," he conceded. "Just never thought we'd get one this young."
"True, usually you get them after they'd been in the system a while and occasionally directly from the parents, but you two are wonderful with kids, including my own Billy, and not many foster parents are willing to take in a child who will be so much work."
The two men perked up at the mention of their godson.
"How is Billy?" Chris questioned. "He hasn't been out to the ranch lately."
"That is because Billy's been going to day camp this summer. He practically collapses as soon as he's had his supper," Mary gushed. "I never get to see him during the week, so I admit I've been keeping him home with me during the weekends, but I promise to bring him for a visit soon."
"Good," Chris said, smiling. It was always great to see their godson. He was always so cheerful, and he brightened up the whole ranch when he came around. The boys loved having someone younger to teach things to.
"We've all missed having the little guy around," Buck told her with giant grin.
"He'll be happy to hear that." Mary glanced at her watch. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, lurching to her feet and making her way towards the door. The two men followed. "I didn't realize the time. I have a home inspection today and if I don't get going, I won't be finished in time to get to the hospital before visiting hours are over."
"So, we'll see you tomorrow?" Chris asked as they reached Mary's car. He opened the driver's door, allowing her to slip inside and lower the window before gently closing it again.
"Yes, around 1pm I would think. Oh, and you might want to slowly introduce him to the boys. Meeting all you Larabee-Wilmingtons at once can be a bit daunting," she said with a fond smile. "Especially for a scared, medicated little boy."
"That's probably a good idea," Buck agreed. "And we should probably slowly familiarize him to Josiah. Big man like that scares full grown adults when they first set eyes on him." Buck chuckled, thinking of the large man with an even larger heart who acted as their camp director.
As peaceful as Josiah truly was, Chris and Buck had initially hired him because of his intimidating presence. It was perfect for keeping the troubled foster campers in line. The large man had once been an FBI profiler, but he'd burned out a decade before. He'd gone over the edge, using unnecessary force to apprehend a child rapist and murderer. These days however, the gentle giant worked as a school counselor for the small school district around Four Corners, a small ranching community about 30 miles from Denver. The district wasn't wealthy and as a result, they had one counselor who traveled from building to building. Josiah spent his summers working as the director and emotional counselor for the troubled youths their summer camp accommodated.
The summer camp program had ended a week earlier, so they no longer had those extra responsibilities on their plate, and Josiah was taking the few weeks left of summer vacation to actually sit back and relax. Of course, his idea of a relaxing vacation was to work sixteen hours a day fixing up his own house.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Mary paused shifting her car back into park. "He has a puppy."
"What?!" The two men looked at her incredulously.
"The officers found him in a tree house, firmly holding onto a puppy the family had apparently gotten just a couple weeks before. He is very attached to her. The paramedics were unable to get him to let go of it, even when the boy was unconscious. They ended up having to bring the dog to the hospital with them. It won't grow to be a big dog or anything," she rushed to explain. "He's just very attached to it, hasn't let it out of his sight. You two won't mind another dog running around here, would you?"
Chris shook his head and sighed in exasperation. "No, no of course not. Bring the damn dog, too."
"Good." Mary flashed a brilliant smile. "I told him you wouldn't mind. He's written out a list of care instructions. The words weren't spelled quite right, but one of the nurses managed to get the gist of it and typed it up for him. I'll bring them both by tomorrow. Bye guys!"
With a final wave, she was off.
The men watched her car disappear down the drive, and then returned to their large, two-story, log home.
"Thanks for agreein' to this," Buck said sincerely, kissing his lover's forehead.
Chris shrugged. "You've been wantin' to take in another one for a while now. I'll admit, I've been hesitant, 'specially after what happened with Rafe and finally having to send him to that group home."
Buck hugged his companion. "I know how hard that was for you. But we had to do what was best for the other three boys. We can't save them all and he was one of 'em we just couldn't help. The fights at school and his talkin' back to us was one thing, but when he brought those drugs into the house for JD to find…" Buck shuddered at the memory. "He didn't care when I confronted him. Didn't care that JD was playin' with that junk. That was too much for me to take."
"I know. You were right." Chris squeezed back, then pulled away slightly. "I was more angry at myself than anyone. I really liked that boy, and I thought we could reach him. Show him that we could be his family if he'd have let us, and that we wanted him." Chris clenched his fists in Buck's shirt.
"I know. So did I." Buck put a comforting hand on Chris' shoulder, unwilling to take the chance that Chris would push him away again. His lover took their failure with Rafe personally and the loss was emotionally devastating for him, causing him to withdraw into himself.
"I know. I'm sorry for being such a bastard for so long after he was gone. I had no right to treat you that way, or to take it out on you physically like I did."
"I could take the punches. I knew that they weren't really about me, or us. That's why I didn't fight back. You needed a release. I knew once the anger left and you forgave yourself, you'd come back to us. And you did." Buck kissed the blond tenderly, showing him exactly why he never left.
"I don't rightly think I deserve you most of the time, Buck," Chris murmured against the bigger man's lips. "You're so forgiving. You've forgiven my sorry ass far more times than I've warranted…but I'm glad you have. I don't know what I'd do without you. I thought about what life might be like without you in it and it's just so…empty. I've always pushed everyone away, but you wouldn't go. Didn't matter what hateful things I said, you never left my side, and I thank God for that every single day."
"That's cause, sorry ass or not, I love you," Buck told him, giving him one more kiss. "Now, we've got work to do. The kids'll start straggling in soon and I've got dinner to make. We've got some big news to share with the kids tonight."
"Sure do. 'Cause of you're damn bleeding heart," Chris grumbled, pulling away.
Buck rolled his eyes, not buying it for a moment. "Oh please! Don't even try that with me. Mary had you hooked the moment she told you he'd been hurt. You just got all worried when you found out he was little guy and tried to push the inevitable."
Chris glared at Buck, which only cause the dark haired man to laugh as he walked into the kitchen. It was going to be in interesting night.
** 7 pm **
In a true Larabee-Wilmington clan fashion, the table was covered with a plethora of food. The boys were bottomless pits, not that Buck was any better most of the time. Tonight, however, Buck wasn't eating much. He and Chris kept exchanging glances from opposite ends of the long oak table. Finally, Chris gave a nod, causing Buck to sigh in relief, he couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Boys?" he tried, but was ignored. "Boys, we've got an announcement." Still nothing.
Chris shook his head in fond exasperation, then spoke. "Quiet." Though he'd not even raised his voice, the boys instantly went silent and gave him their undivided attention.
Buck sighed ruefully, but was just glad to have their sons' attention. "Guys, your dad and I have an announcement."
Nine-year-old JD wrinkled his nose. "An announcement? Like what? Are we going on vacation?" he asked around a mouth full of mashed potatoes while his eyes lit up with excitement. "Are we Papa? Like to Six Flags, or Disney Land?!"
Vin lightly smacked the back of his little brother's head. At twelve, he was too smart to put up with such foolish behavior. "'Course not, stupid. We just spent the last two months on vacation and it's too hot to go there now."
"Don't call your brother stupid," Chris reprimanded gently.
"Sorry Dad," Vin apologized, his head lowered in shame.
"It's not a vacation," Buck confirmed. "You see, Mary came out to the ranch today…."
"Mary was here?" JD questioned excitedly.
"Did she bring Billy?" Nathan asked. Though 16, he too enjoyed spending time with the younger boy, in limited amounts at least.
"Would you kids be quiet and let your Papa talk?" Chris growled, frustrated with how long the announcement was taking.
"Sorry," the boys chorused.
"It's ok. Thing is, Mary's got a new boy on her caseload, and she's asked your dad and me to take 'im in."
Silverware clattered to plates, and eyes flicked back and forth between their two fathers.
"A new kid? You serious?" Vin demanded.
Chris inwardly winced. The boys had also been hurt when they'd finally had to send Rafe away. Vin in particular had been affected. He'd withdrawn into himself for months before they got their son back. He really hoped they were doing the right thing for all of them.
"Completely," Chris confirmed. "But he's not like you guys were before you came here. For one thing, he's only three, or four. They're not quite sure. And he was hurt bad by the people he was staying with. They were killed, but he made it by hiding in the family's tree house."
The boys' jaws dropped.
"Mary says he ain't talkin', at all. Not a single word," Buck continued. "And his foot is broken, so he's gonna need your Dad and me to carry him around for a while, 'cause he can't put any weight on it."
"Wow, that sound's really serious," Nate, their budding doctor, commented.
"Yep. Mary said he's real scared too, and that she thought we would be the perfect family to take care of him, at least until they can find out if he still has some parents out there somewhere."
"We could do that…" Vin hedged, not sure if he liked the idea that the boy might have family of his own out there. He didn't know if he wanted to open himself to a new little 'brother' only to have him taken away as soon as his family was found.
"That's what we thought," Chris agreed. "There is one major issue though…they can't figure out what his name is. He ain't talkin', and there ain't anything in his old home to identify him."
JD wrinkled his nose. "He doesn't have a name?"
"Nope. Not one he's tellin', at least. But Mary will be bringin' him, and his puppy, to the ranch tomorrow 'round one."
"Puppy?!" younger boys asked at once, looking back and forth with large, eager eyes.
"Yes, puppy." Buck raised both hands to forestall the dozens of questions he knew the boys wanted to ask about the dog. "Mary says he hasn't let the dog out of his sight since they found him. But, it's his puppy, boys. Besides, don't you three have enough critters runnin' round this ranch? If I remember right, we got about five cats…"
"Eight," Chris corrected.
Buck's lips quirked in a smile, "Eight cats, two dogs, JD's got an iguana in his room, there's a family of owls up in the hayloft, and each one of you has your own horse."
The boys blushed. When he put it that way….
Chris smiled over the small heads towards his lover. Buck always had a unique way of making the boys realize when their heads were gettin' a bit too big.
"So you three will be need to be on your best behavior tomorrow. He's gonna be real shy and skittish. We don't want to scare him any more than he already is, you hear me?" Chris warned.
"Yeah."
"Got it."
"We won't," JD promised.
Chris nodded his head. "Good."
"Oh, one more thing," Buck remembered. "Nathan, you're the only one with extra room. Do you mind if we put him there? Vin's room is the smallest, and as everybody knows, JD talks in his sleep. Do you mind him sleepin' in the bottom bunk in you room?"
Nathan shook his head. "No, 'course not."
"Thanks. If he's going to be sharing your room, we'll also have to rely on you to help keep an eye on him. He's gonna need help getting' to the bathroom and doin' pretty much everything else. Mary said his pain pills will be knocking him out most of the time, and since he's not talkin', we ain't gonna know when he needs help. In fact, we need all of you to help us keep an eye on him," Chris instructed, looking at each son individually.
JD nodded enthusiastically, thrilled to be included. "I can do that! I can play with him, too."
"Shouldn't be too hard," Nathan admitted. "He won't be moving around too much."
"Don't mind keeping him company none," Vin said seriously. "Don't seem like he'll be real noisy at least," he added with a smirk.
Chris rolled his eyes, while Vin's brothers' snickered. Buck just grinned at his life-mate, shaking his head. Those were his boys!