Lost

Disclaimer: I don't own the Magnificent Seven, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst
Rating: FRT

Lost
Chapter 5


Buck drove away from Chris' ranch, determined to find David Spencer's brother and make him pay for what he'd done. Vin might have blocked out what had happened, but he hadn't, God knew he wished he could. He'd give anything to be able to block out the memory of Vin begging him to stop, the sound of him screaming when he entered him. The worst though, the worst was the look of absolute betrayal that blossomed in his dark blue eyes. "Damn you Spencer! Why couldn't you have just gone after me? Why did ya have to drag him into it?" Giving himself a mental shake, Buck forced his focus back onto his driving. There was no point in asking his questions now, but when he found Spencer he'd ask them, and he'd better get some answers. Turning his truck towards Denver, Buck headed for his old preceint house.


"Vin, are you okay?" Chris asked as he stepped into the barn.

"I'm fine Chris, just seeing to my horse," Vin answered, without looking at him.

"It'd be easier to believe that if you'd look at me."

Leaning his head against his horse's flank, Vin heaved a sigh. Looking up, he met Chris' eyes, "I'm fine Chris."

"Uh-huh. Want a drink?" Chris offered, holding up a pair of shot glasses and a bottle.

Vin laid aside the curry comb. Stepping over to a bale of hay, he sat down. Holding the glass of whiskey, he stared into its depths. He wondered if he'd find any answers in it, snorting derisively, he shook his head.

Leaning against the stall, Chris arched an eyebrow, "What?"

"Just wondering if I'd find any answers in here," he answered, lifting his glass.

"I never did."

"Then what'd ya bring it out here for?"

"Thought maybe you could use it," Chris replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Why'd you lie to me Chris?"

It was Larabee's turn to sigh, "Didn't want to see the team torn apart. Seemed like you not remembering was maybe a blessing in disguise."

"So you were just protecting the team?"

"No, not just the team. I was protecting you too, and Buck. Forgive me?"

"Guess I can't blame ya for wanting to protect us, it's part of who you are."

"Thanks cowboy."

"Just don't ever do it again Chris. I might not like the truth, but I can handle it, it's being lied to I can't take. Especially when it's a friend doing the lying, no matter what the reason."

"I'll remember that."

"Feeling kind of tired, ya mind if I use the guest room?"

"Help yourself."

"Thanks." Handing the glass back to Chris, Vin made his way inside. Ignoring everybody else, he walked down the hall, flopping down onto the bed in the guest room. Ten seconds after he laid down, he heard Chris come inside. He couldn't hear what they were saying, only muffled voices, but he could guess. JD would want to know if he was mad, Josiah would ask if he needed to talk and Chris would tell them both he didn't think so. Nathan would only want to know if he had said anything before he came inside, was he acting like he didn't feel good. When Chris repeated his words, Nathan would make a beeline for the bedroom. 10...9...8...7...Vin mentally counted down, as he reached 1 the door swung open. "Right on time Nate."

"Huh? On time for what?"

"I'm okay Nathan, just tired," Vin assured him, ignoring the question.

"Why don't you let me decide that?"

"Don't ya think I know when there's something wrong?"

"Yep, I just don't think you'll tell me," Nathan replied as he picked up Vin's wrist. "Well you seem okay," he said a few minutes later.

Vin bit back the urge to say told ya so, "Could I get some rest now?"

"Yeah Vin, you go ahead. I'll make sure nobody bothers ya."

"Thanks." Rolling onto his side, Vin closed his eyes and waited for Nathan to leave the room.


"He okay Nathan?"

"As far as I can tell Chris he's just tired."

"That normal?"

"For somebody who was in a state of shock not long ago and who probably ain't slept all night, I'd say so."

"Good. Can you and Josiah stay here to keep an eye on him?"

"Yeah," both men answered simultaneously. "Where are you going to be?"

"I'm going after Buck," Chris replied, grabbing his jacket and keys. "I'm pretty sure I know where he's going, but just in case I'm wrong I want JD to check the apartment."

"Sure thing Chris."

"Ezra?"

"Sir?"

"Could you go talk to your snitches, see if any of them have heard anything on the street about Spencer? I don't really expect they have, but I want to cover all the bases."

"Of course," Ezra replied, tipping an imaginary hat his way.

Vin listened to the sounds from the other room, the muffled voices, the jangling keys and soon the front door opening and closing. Three vehicles started up and left, the tires crunching on the gravel drive as they pulled away. Patiently he waited for the two men who were left to settle down and forget about him. After awhile the muffled conversation stopped and the tv came on. Forty-five minutes after Chris and the others had left, Vin quietly opened the bedroom window. Slipping through it, he landed on the ground with cat like grace. Moving quietly, he disabled both of their vehicles. He knew it wouldn't take them long to figure out what he'd done and fix it, but by then he'd be out of sight. Jumping into his jeep, he fired it up. Ignoring the calls of his friends, he threw it into first, and sped out of the drive.

"Come on we'll take my car," Nathan quickly decided. Sliding behind the wheel, he turned the key. His head dropped to rest on the steering wheel, "What do ya think he did?"

"No telling, but you can bet mine won't start either," Josiah replied. Climbing out of Nathan's car, he walked over to his own and turned the key, not surprised when nothing happened. Pulling the lever, he popped the hood. "Distributor cap's missing," he called to Nathan.

"Mine too," Nathan confirmed from under his own hood. "Where ya figure he tossed 'em?"

Josiah looked around, his hands resting on his hips as he tried to see into Vin's mind. "I don't figure he wanted to strand us for long, just wanted a head start."

"Makes sense."

"So he wouldn't want to make it too hard to fine them...there," Josiah pointed to a row of shrubs near the porch.

"Worth a try." Walking over to the bushes, Nathan began to search them. "Bingo," he grinned, standing up with a distributor cap in each hand. Tossing Josiah's to him, he hurried back to his own car and got busy. Finishing, he straightened up and walked over to Josiah, leaning against the fender, he watched the profiler as he finished reattaching his distributor cap. "So...flip ya for it," he offered.

"Huh?" Josiah distractedly asked.

"Somebody has to call Chris and tell him that our bird flew the coop," Nathan clarified as he pulled a coin from his pocket. "Loser makes the call, heads or tails?"

With a sigh, Josiah lightly shook his head, "Tails."

"Damn, I should just give up, I never win."

Josiah grinned, "Have fun brother." Clapping him on the back, he slammed the hood shut and climbed behind the wheel before Nathan could protest.




Phillip Spencer sat in the vacant warehouse where's his brother's life had ended. This hadn't been where he'd committed suicide. No, that he had done in their mother's basement. The sound of his mother's anquished scream echoed in his head as that day replayed one more time in his mind. He would never forget that sound, or the shattered look on his mother's face as he ran down the stairs. "God Davey, why did you have to do that? Why didn't you let us help you?" He knew the answer though, he hadn't been able to accept their help. No matter how many times they told him otherwise, he just wouldn't believe that he deserved their help. They had tried, both of them had done everything they could think of, but nothing helped. His little brother had never gotten over feeling dirty and used. Davey might have stopped breathing that day in the basement, but his life had ended here, the day that bastard had raped him. Wiping away the tears that streaked his face, he went on. "I got you some justice Davey," he whispered, his fingers tracing over his brother's face as he stared back at him from the picture. "You were so proud the day you made detective. You would've been one of the best too. I take it back, you would've been the best! Too bad you didn't have the best guarding your back that day. Damn him!" he cursed. " I got him though Davey, Wilmington paid in spades for what you suffered. I was gonna kill him ya know, even planted some bugs in his apartment just so I could listen to him dying. Had it all planned out, I was across the street, had a perfect view into his living room. I was going to call him, tell him who I was and why he was dying. Then I was gonna shoot him little brother, not in the head or the heart though. Was going to gut shoot him, make sure he suffered before he died. Then that friend of his showed up, heard them talking and figured out this guy was on the same ATF team he was on. I knew what I had to do, it was the perfect revenge for what he'd done." He paused to take a drink from his beer, "I called him, told him who I was and what you'd done. I don't remember what all I said, but I sure gave him a hell of a cussing. Probably would've made ya blush to hear it Davey," he teased. "Then I told him I had a perfect shot at his friend and if he wanted him to live, he'd do what I said. I made sure he knew there were bugs in the place, couldn't have him telling the guy what was really happening after all. You'll love this little brother," he chortled. "I told him that if he didn't rape his buddy, then I'd shoot him where he sat, his buddy not him. He didn't want to do it, but I didn't give him any choice, not if he wanted his friend to live. I got the recording right here Davey," he patted his shirt pocket. "Them bugs worked real good, they picked up everything and I mean everything. I admit I feel sorry for his friend, he was an innocent in all of this, just like you. But I had to make Wilmington pay, you understand that don't you Davey? Good, I knew ya would. Want to hear the tape? The best part is afterwards, when he's trying to talk to his friend. I swear to ya Davey, Wilmington was crying while he was apologizing. Didn't do him any good, fella was out of it, shock I imagine. Ain't that what they said was wrong with you when we came to the hospital that day? That's why ya wouldn't talk, just kind of stared off into space. That's what his buddy was doing, don't know what happened after that. I took off, figured I'd better before Wilmington decided to come looking for me. To you baby brother," raising his beer in a toast, "maybe now you can rest in peace."



Buck walked up to the door of the Spencer home. He'd already checked at Phillip Spencer's apartment and his job, of course it couldn't be that easy. Buck sure hoped Spencer's mother would know where he was, if she didn't he was out of ideas. Raising his hand, he knocked on the wood screendoor.

"Yes, can I help you?" Mrs. Spencer asked, looking up at him, her brown eyes sharp and suspicious.

"I sure hope so ma'am. My name's Buck Wilmington and..." that was as far as he got.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming around here Mr. Wilmington," Ava Spencer snapped. "I don't want you here and if you don't get off my property in the next thirty seconds, I'm calling the police." With those words she slammed the door shut in his face.

"Damn, now what?" Buck asked himself, as he tried to decide on his next move. Well one thing was for sure, he couldn't afford to waste time with the police. Scrubbing his hand through his dark hair, he blew out a sigh of frustration as he trudged back to his truck. Sitting in the vehicle, he tried to think, trying to put himself in Spencer's shoes. "Alright Buck, your little brother was raped and it destroyed him. Later he kills himself because he can't take the pain of what happened. You've gotten revenge on one of the people you think is responsible, now what do you do?" Staring out the windshield of his truck, his mind was coming up blank. Reaching over, he picked up the file his friend Rick had given him. Reading through it again, the question of where Phillip Spencer would go nagged at him. "David killed himself in his mother's basement, I wonder....one way to find out." Starting the truck, he pulled away from the curb, a moment later parking it on a nearby side street.

Getting out of his truck, he carefully made his way back to the Spencer home. Sneaking around to the back, he made his way to where he saw a basement window, being careful to stay out of sight. Shaking his head seconds later, he knew he shouldn't be surprised and to tell the truth he was kind of glad he wasn't here. He really didn't want to have this confontation with the man's mother there too. Retracing his path, he made his way back to where he'd left his truck. "So he didn't come to where David killed himself. The cemetary? Yeah, that'd make sense." Climbing back in the truck, he drove off towards the cemetary where David Spencer had been laid to rest.

It didn't take long to figure out that the cemetary was a bust. There were fresh flowers laid on David's grave, but no sign of his brother. Dejected, he walked back to his truck, his hands buried in his pockets and his head downcast. Once more he picked up the file, looking through it for some clue of where Phillip Spencer might be. "Buck you're a fool," he chided himself. He should've seen it earlier, if Spencer hadn't gone to the place where his brother's life ended and he wasn't at his grave there was really only one other place where he might feel close to David. Jumping into his truck, he sped towards the warehouse that David Spencer had been attacked in all those years ago.




Vin had gone to see Mary Travis and with her help he was able to find all of the information he needed on David Spencer and his family. She'd been curious of course, but he'd just told her that there was a chance David Spencer might have found some information on a gun runner they were after. She looked at him strangely, but seemed to accept the story he wove of misplaced files and the need to ask his mother if she knew where he might have kept them. Now here he was, standing outside the Spencer house, waiting for an answer to his knock.

"Yes?" the elderly lady asked him, her eyes narrowed in hostility.

"I'm sorry to bother you ma'am, my name's Vin Tanner and I was wondering if your son Phillip might be here," he politely requested.

"You don't look like one of Phillip's friends."

"No ma'am, we ain't friends. I work with the ATF and your son called us with some information about a possible crime being committed. I went by his apartment but he wasn't home and he's not at work..."

"You got some i.d.?"

"Yes ma'am, " he politely replied, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. "It's real important that I talk to him ma'am," he added as she examined his badge.

"Well it looks like the real thing, I guess I can talk to ya. He isn't here, but I think I know where he might be."

"Anything you could tell me would be helpful ma'am," he encouraged.

"I don't think it's healthy at all, but sometimes he goes back to that warehouse where his brother was hurt. Says he feels closer to Davey there. I don't see how, but if it helps him I'm not going to tell him not to go."

"His brother?" Vin pretended not to know about that.

"Yeah his brother," she confirmed. " Hold on a minute and I'll get you the address." She disappeared into the house, returning moments later with a piece of paper, an address written on it in a neat script. "Here ya are Agent Tanner," she handed it to him. "If Phillip is there, would you tell him I'd like for him to come by?"

"Yes ma'am, I sure will. Thank you ma'am." Turning away, he walked to his jeep and got in. Turning the key, he fired it up and pulled away from the curb. Quickly committing the address to memory, he crumpled up the paper as he headed towards the warehouse where he hoped to find Phillip Spencer.

TBC

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