Tragic events that have taken place in the Real World are dealt with by the 7. My way of coping is to write, so the boys handled it all for me. If you are tired of and/or don't wish to read anything having to do with the attacks in NYC on September 11, 2001, you might want to skip this story and the next, A Whisper in the Silence.
The 'poem' that Vin writes is actually a song written by Alan Jackson.
Oh, and the demon speller LOVES me.

Sequel to: A Cry in the Dark

"Jesus Christ, Vin."

JD Dunne lifted eyes blurred with tears from the piece of paper his friend and teammate had given him and stared at the man in silence.

"You wrote this?"

"Yep." The drawl was quiet, the Texan taking no offense. "Chris and I drove half the night. But I still couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, know the feelin'. Buck and I didn't get to sleep until after 3am." The kid commented absently but there was no blush that would have usually accompanied such a statement in the past.

But then the reason for the two lovebirds lack of sleep wouldn't have had much to do with their normal cheerful devotion. As far as he knew, not one of Team Seven had slept that night.

Vin's tone changed, grew serious. "Whaddaya think?" he asked the young agent. "Can ya use it?"

"Yeah. *Oh*, yeah." Then, hesitantly, "You sure?"

"'m sure, JD." The sharpshooter paused, one boot on the sill of the backdoor. "Thanks. I owe ya."

And Vin was gone, but as JD Dunne once again read the beautiful words his friend had written, the post teen murmured softly, "No, after this, I reckon we owe *you*, Vin."

Setting himself up at his computer, JD logged off of the net, freeing up the main line and got busy. He had calls to make and details to work out but this would definitely be worth it. He wondered of Hawk was at home and if they would be playing at the Saloon tonight.....

JD Dunne took the small stage, pulling the wooden barstool to him and settling on it, hooking his sneaker on a rung as the crowd quieted down. Tuning his guitar, his dark hair fell into his eyes and he shook it back as he finished, looking up at the expectant audience.

"I wanted..." He sighed and tried again. This was harder than he thought it would be. So many emotions, so many unanswered questions in the song Vin had written for them all...

How do you reopen a wound as deep and painful as this one without causing more damage than healing? Still, it felt right, singing this, sharing this now. If they could only bring a little relief tonight, maybe it would be a start. Maybe it would be enough.

"This is something a little different that a friend wrote for me to sing for you all tonight. The first time I read these words I knew it summed up everything I felt inside and I'm mighty priviledged to offer it to you."

Vin had admitted that putting things to music wasn't something he was good at and had agreed to let JD and Jason Hawk Dancer work out a suitable melody for the words he had written. Years ago, Jace had roped him into singing with the band most nights they played until JD was a regular sight up there on stage, both on electric guitar and vocals. Nevermind that the Saloon was a bar and therefore, legally, JD, at fourteen, shouldn't have been allowed inside at all. But he had been with the rest of the Seven and had been accorded the same respect as the adults.

He smiled. Respect, though no alcohol.

So it was Jason whom JD had turned to with his latest project and the lead had immediately agreed.

A few hours later and they had a befittingly simple melody to go along, something JD could do alone, with just the accoustic guitar. Maybe later they would get Ezra in on piano.

His fingers brushed against the steel cords, gaining in strength as the crowd hushed, and someone lowered the lights until the only one remaining was the spotlight trained on him up there on stage.

Or maybe not. Something like this...simple was better. Nothing to detract from the words, from the emotion. Clearing his throat already, JD began to sing.

Where were you when the world stopped turnin'
On that September day?
Were you in the yard with your wife and children?
Workin' on some stage in LA?
Did you stand there in shock at the sight of that black smoke
Rising against that blue sky?
Did you shout out in anger and fear for your neighbor?
Or did you just sit down and cry?
Did you weep for the children who lost their dear loved ones?
Pray for the ones who don't know?
Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble?
And sob for the ones left below?
Did you burst out with pride for the red white and blue?
The heroes who died, just doin' what they do?
Did you look up to Heaven for some kind of answer?
And look at yourself and what really matters?

Up on stage, JD strummed, his fingers automatically picking out notes, blinking back tears and buying himself a little time.

Some of that was Vin, he knew. The Texan had gone to each of his neighbors, checking in on them and making sure they were okay before hightailing it into the ATF office that morning.

Some himself and Buck and Josiah and Nathan who had done the same thing, gathered up a extra suplies and sent up what had felt like millions of prayers into their own unclouded blue skies; even that many hadn't felt like enough. Not nearly enough to ease their own minds. Sooth their own souls.

I'm just a singer of simple songs, I'm not a
Real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith Hope and Love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is Love

Chris was in there, and Ezra and everyone he had talked to since could find a verse here that they recognized as their own.

Noone would ever suspect how much alike Team Seven's leader and negociator actually were. Everyone of the guys knew it, JD, too, but if it was ever mentioned, both men would deny it, most likely with scowls and adament disbelief.

Not because it wasn't true, but because it was.

Chris kept things to himself, pushing the chaos back with a fierce determination and the force he put behind his orders and commands. For Larabee, the only way to get through an impossible situation was to do just that, to put his anger and horror into action and push his way through.

Chris cared; it was just the breed of man he was.

And Ezra? The Southerner had a mask of a different kind, but it had taken the preacher's help for JD to see it. For the longest time, he had thought Ezra had chosen the career of criminal profiler as an amusement, or maybe a challange to improve his acting skills. But now he knew that Ezra was just like Chris, only his anger and rage where much quieter, more focused; much more carefully hidden, but no less real.

Ezra cared; as much as he didn't want to, he did. That was just the kind of man *he* was.

Where were you when the world stopped turnin'
On that September day?
Teaching a class full of innocent children?
Or drivin' down some cold interstate?

He and Buck had been driving into town when it came over the radio. The news story that a plane had crashed into one of the Towers. The first of the Towers.

They had just pulled into the underground carpark when the second plane had taken out the other building and the horrible realization had struck them both that it hadn't been an accident.

Did you feel guilty 'cause you're a survivor?
In a crowded room did you feel alone?
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her?
Did you dust off that bible at home?

The first thing Ezra had done was to track down Maude. They had all held their breath inside the suddenly quiet office until the gambler had smiled, his dimples showing in relief. Wherever she had been, the high society matron was perfectly fine, although a few giddy moments had been spent simply listening to the rant predicting a gross loss of personal business profit in New York.

Still grinning in relief, Josiah had pulled out a worn bible from his desk; the former preacher reading aloud a passage or two before closing it again, opening his eyes and reverantly placing the book back in his drawer before hitting the phones.

Did you open your eyes hope it never happened?
Close your eyes and not go to sleep?
Did you notice the sunset for the first time in ages?
Speak to some stranger on the street?
Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow?
Go out and buy you a gun?

Everyone was talking about New York and Washington; you couldn't step foot out of your own door anywhere in the country and not hear people talking about what had happened. Most were people who had never met the person standing next to them, adversity and shock drawing them together for that moment almost like best friends. Some who, under normal circumstances would have never stepped out of their own routine to pay any attention to the person beside them on the street, could only stand and trade the latest rumor, everyone wondering what would happen next.

Not all of the talk had been good and Vin, Buck and Josiah had been loaned to the local PD for a few hours to help in putting down the sudden rash of hate crimes popping up like wildfire in the normally tolerant Denver community. From there Team Seven had gone further and seized every illegal revolver, rifle and popgun they had prior knowledge of.

The preacher hadn't been the only one of them to throw the fear of God into the ones they caught. He and Vin had their street contacts spread the word that if any harm came to an innocent, no matter what the race, religion or ethnic background, they *would* find out about it and take appropriate action.

From there, Ezra and Josiah had put their heads together coming up with a wide profile for the entire incident, listing what to expect and what was likely to happen next.

Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watchin'?
And turn on I Love Lucy reruns?
Did you go to a church and hold hands with some strangers?
Stand in line and give your own blood?

The rest done, about the only thing they could do had been to go give blood and they had, Nathan rounding up every other agent who felt the same, and some who hadn't, and leading the charge down to the Red Cross. The healer had then stayed and helped organize the flood of people coming in, lending his hands where they were needed, the rest of the team heading back to once more man the phones, ride the web or chase the streets, all trying to keep busy and just do *something*.

Trying to maintain the illusion that there was something, anything they could do now but wait.

Or did you just stay home and cling tight to your family?
Thank God you had somebody to love.

That last verse was his and he sang it selfishly. He looked past the stagelight into the crowd, to the one person he could never live without, only to find Buck already holding his eyes, tears held back but shining in his own. They had, after the anger had died and only confusion remained, finally gone to bed, curling against and around each other and holding tight.

Thanking God they were both safe and had each other to hold onto. To love.

I'm just a singer of simple songs, I'm not a
Real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith Hope and Love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is Love

I'm just a singer of simple songs, I'm not a
Real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith Hope and Love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is Love

And the greatest is Love

And the greatest is Love

As JD came around into the last few notes, he had to admit that it was true. Faith, hope and love together all threaded around and tied up into each other; each winding back around until it lead from one and into the other, no matter where you started. And, like the intricate knots Vin had tried to teach him to tie, no matter where you started, you always ended up with the other two.

Where there was faith, Josiah was one to swear there followed hope and love. For what was faith without hope for the future and love for yourself and your fellow man?

Where there was hope, Nathan would dare anyone outright to deny faith and love. For as long as the healer held on to hope, he always would have reason to find faith in his own skills and love for his fellow man to guide him through his doubts.

And where there was love, Buck had often been known to declare, quite often loudly and at the top of his lungs, that faith and hope would be there, too. For what was love without faith in the promise of a fresh new day and hope in creating a brighter future?

Where were you when the world stopped turnin'
On that September day?

He would never forget what had happened on the day their world stopped turning. Noone would. But with time and faith, hope and love, there *was* healing and a strength in the friendship and support of his family that would see them all through their own personal hell the nation's tragedy had caused.

For JD Dunne had a family; had friends he could count onto back him up, to be there whenever, whatever he needed and who knew they could count on him to do the same. He had a man whom he loved with an open joy who loved him the same way, without reservation but with an intensity and exuberance that still sometimes left him weak.

That was where he had been when the world stopped turning.

It was where he would be when it finally started up again.

End