"No! GODDAMMIT!"

A couple of police officers to witness the explosion of temper fidgeted, uncertain - rookies - while the regular ATF forensics team ignored it and got to work, most having seen this display before, at least once, if not more.

The hole in the wall wasn't a surprise, nor the fist still lodged in the wood and plaster. Scraped raw and bloodied, it's owner was too far gone to feel it, the mental anguish of the crime scene enough to overwhelem the physical pain.

"Nathan." Josiah's hand on the black clad shoulder, the team's medic worked to remove the fist without causing any more damage to the bones and tendons. Larabee didn't seem to care. "Nathan, clean him up. Vin. Take him home."

"Who do you think you are?" Larabee demanded. "I'm not..."

But the warning look delivered under the preacher's stern blue gaze cut off the protest before it could be made. "You are. We'll take it from here, Chris." Hazel eyes worn with fatigue dulled further with a grief that should have been impersonal but was anything but. How could it be when the victim was a child? A baby no more than eight months old, born premature and now found smothered by his own baby blankets. "Get Vin and Ezra out of here, brother. He'll get the fury of the devil Himself on his behalf, believe that."

Unable to do more than nod, Larabee found his gaze shimmer, drawn to the open door of the nursery only to be blocked by JD, their youngest member facing him, unable to look himself but willing to deny Chris, a former father, any further pain the sight would cause him. Former father...Chris shook his head. Always a father.

Larabee met the hazel eyes, more brown and dark with his own grief and nodded once. A thank you but also an acknowledgement that he had faith his men could take it from there.

Still, almost against his will a small smile appeared at the image of their profiler in horns and a tail. "Don't doubt that, Josiah." Larabee sighed, the breath shuddered through his body, taking energy with it, leaving only a bone deep weariness to balance out the outrage and sorrow threatened to suffocate him. Smother him...like...

His gaze again strayed to the baby's room, but JD hadn't moved, Buck now standing with the kid, camera in large, capable hands. Capable.... Yes, his team could handle things here, probably easier without him at this point. Christ, he was a mess..

"I feel..." Rubbing his head, Chris spoke barely a whisper. Leaning close, Josiah almost missed the confession anyway. "...like I'm deserting you all."

"No such thing, brother," he assured.

"The CSU guys are here now, Chris," Buck added, softly, understanding in his eyes. Out of them all, Buck knew best how this was tearing his old friend apart. "Let us handle it."

One last look around convinced Larabee to get while the getting was good, and before he wound up breaking down in front of half of the Denver forensics community. That wasn't his forte anyway and Buck knew it. "Yeah. Ok."

One look at the sharpshooter standing silent up to this point, tears spilling from red rimmed eyes, Wilmington ordered, "You, too, Junior. Nothin' more you three can do here. You and Ezra take him home."

But there were lines that Larabee wouldn't cross and leaving his team to deal with the grisly details while he holed up hiding in the country was one of them. "No, we'll be at Ezra's, " a quick nod from the undercover agent and Chris added, "Call us when..."

Wilmington agreed soflty. "We'll let you know."

Watching their leader go, JD Dunne was glad that Buck had gotten the others to go with him. Vin's skills lay in sharpshooting and legwork and while Ezra was the best there was when it came to building cases and undercover work, Chris needed them with him a lot more than JD and the others needed them to be here.

Taking a breath, JD braced himself. Before he could turn to enter the room with the other techs, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"JD..."

The hacker smiled, knowing what Buck wanted to do and surprised his lover had waited so long to do it. Rather than argue, JD sidestepped the issue by squeezing the hand once and moving from under it, calling over his shoulder. "Let's go, Buck."

He heard the soft "damn" that broke the silence and the soft chuckle, knowing Buck would follow. "Right."

The warm touch on his lower back was more than welcome as the pair dove in and got swallowed up by the rest of Denver's finest. He didn't want to do it, but it was his job. The devil's wrath was waiting to be dealt.

Ezra Standish sighed, turning the key in the lock and relishing the cool air that rushed from his building to greet him, to replace the stifling heat outside.

Normally, his home was a haven against the outside world; at this moment it seemed even moreso. Ushering the two men inside, Ezra gladly shut the door on that world, wishing selfishly he could do the same on the residual grief he carried in his heart. If *he* was effected this much by the infant's d...by their latest case, it was no wonder Chris was so upset.

There was no doubt that the ghost of Adam Larabee was rasing it's head with his father.

Standing in the middle of the oriental rug, nothing more, Team Seven's leader stared at his surroundings in somewhat of a daze, making no motion to either sit or speak. Taking both his and Vin's jackets and placing them in the closet, Ezra determined to take matters into his own hands.

"Chris, you need to lie down before you fall down." Well at least the firm, no nonsense approach seemed to have brought the man back with them.

The controlled fall onto the plush leather couch brought Vin, until then almost as still by the door, over to him. He sat but didn't touch, watching as strong hands rose to cover the haggard face briefly before rubbing eyes swollen and red.

"Cowboy?"

Chris favored his lover with a wan smile, hands resting on his knees to dangle, listless, one raising to take one of Vin's, hoping to reassure. Just who it was he wanted to reassure, Vin or himself, he wasn't sure. The normal drawl was raspy. "I'm here."

Joining them, the heavy coffee table providing extra seating, Ezra mentally debated that but wisely kept the observation to himself. Two months of brutal cases, one of which, a serial killer they had just this morning wrapped up and taken to the judge, had obviously taken their toll on Chris Larabee and this late addition was doing absolutely nothing to make matters any better. "Why don't the two of you go lie down." He caught the worried blue gaze and encouraged, "I doubt we will have any new information for quite a while; a couple of hours at the earliest."

When it looked at if Chris was about to protest, Vin spoke up. "Ezra's right. Prelim's take at least that much time and ya know it."

The bitter sigh wasn't directed at them or even anyone in particular and they knew it. "Yeah."

Taking his cue from Ezra, Vin opined, "Might as well get some sleep while we're waitin'." He caught on to what Ez was doing and, like Ez, was hoping to get Larabee to rest.

The Larabee glare, though somewhat weakened by the wry smile, bore into the Seven's two agents, it's owner asking, "You two gangin' up on me?"

The pair managed to look at each other and back at the man in black with such innocently identical 'who..us?' expressions that the grin inched a little higher and Larabee couldn't help but relax. He muttered threatening, "You'd best not let Nathan know you're musclin' in on him."

"Why Mister Larabee, what ever do you mean?" But the green eyes were sparkling even as the undercover agent pretended confusion. Vin had caught on immediately and grinned with a equal mix of annoyance and amusement, "Ain't no mother hen, Larabee."

Ezra's snorted distain was perfect. "Indeed. Now at the risk of strengthening that farfetched delusion, might I reiterate my suggestion?" Knowing they had lightened the mood, hopefully enough so that Chris mught actually get some sleep, he pointed down the hall. "Go. To. Bed."

Chris looked at Vin who was stifling the giggles but he *did* begrudgingly move up off the couch. Unfortunately, he wasn't finished. "Ezra?"

"Yes, Mister Larabee?"

"You sittin' on the coffee table?"

Ezra himself had forgotten that very fact and Vin lost his hold on his laughter. Normally at home, he relaxed the exacting regimen that ruled his public image, and yes, sat on his own furniture, regardless of what it happened to be. Now, watching the sly smile Chris was favoring him with, Vin holding his sides, laying on the couch the other man had just vacated, Ezra recognized the gesture for what it was. A return of the distraction. Firmly squelching the threatening grin, Standish narrowed his eyes, hardened his voice into the one that criminals feared. And pointed as one would to a disobedient child scheming to avoid naptime.

"No. Now bed!"

While he didn't quite mock scuttle down the hall, Chris did move. Ezra stalwartly pretended he didn't hear the tired chuckles. When Vin moved to follow, the tracker's expression was enough to make sitting on the furniture a planned course of action in the future.

"Thanks, Ez."

"Go on, Vin," the southerner said gently, indicating the retreating figure. "He needs you."

The look he received was knowing and measuring in turn. Ezra could only imagine what he looked like, what the toll of the late afternoon case had taken out on his person; with Chris, he knew. Eyes red and swollen, visably tired and worn, disheveled...he didn't want to know. Vin's next words confirmed for him what the tracker was thinking. "Ain't the only one." He offered his hand. "Ez..."

Ezra sighed. So much for the art of deflection. "I will be fine, Vin. Someone needs to be here to take care of the details. I can do that." So Chris wouldn't have to; the CSU and Nathan's reports in particular.

"Then you'll join us?"

Ezra nodded, reassuring his lover and allowing Vin to see what he was hiding from the other; his anger, his own grief. He hurt, but he could handle it. After all, he had extensive practice. "I will. Go on, Vin. I have dealt with far wor..more...in my time. I will be fine." Blue eyes bore into his, a wealth of sorrow and support in that connection. "Shouldn't have ta be."

He couldn't agree more. "No. No one should."

Vin stood in the dark, one lover asleep in the bedroom behind him, one hurting and in pain in front.

The phone had woke him from a light doze, his hand immediately striking out to catch it before it woke Chris, but someone had beaten him to it. Had to be Ezra. Slipping out of bed, he took one look at Chris sleeping soundly against the pillows, tears spent enough to allow that rest, and went in search of Ezra.

He found him, curled up in the old rocker by the window, phone replaced on it's cradle. Must have been a quick phonecall. He made no sound, but Vin could see he was crying, silently, face wet, his tears falling down his cheeks, dripping onto his shirt. Caught in the intensly private pain, Vin ached for him.

"Ezra?"

He hadn't meant to interrupt, but the soft call brought the southerner's sleeves up to wipe his eyes, a ungentlemenly gesture he was sure Ezra wouldn't have made with anyone else. Discovered, Vin moved to kneel in front of the rocker, his hands on the wooden armrests, waiting until Ezra regained a little of his composure.

"That...was Josiah." Ezra confirmed. "He and Nathan are on their way."

"From the crimescene?"

But Ezra shook his head. "The hospital. The baby..." With a little sob, the composure broke. "...didn't make it."

"Aw Ez." Holding open his arms, Ezra launched into them, holding on tightly as Vin settled them both back in the rocker, crooning and rocking a little, just holding him close as Ezra finally let go.

Crying silently, both men mourned the loss.

"So that's it?" Groggy but more alert, Chris looked around the large table. Still in Ezra's home, Josiah and Nathan had brought the final report of the accident and now the five men sat, each individual's sadness palpable in the silence. "It was an accident?"

The ex-preacher ran a large hand through the greying curls and confirmed, "Yep. Sent Buck and JD home from the hospital. Mother laid him down to sleep and left the room for no more'n ten minutes. When she came back..." The shrug was tired. "The baby wasn't breathin'."

"He had wrapped himself in his own blankets, asphyxiated. EMT's on the scene resusitated the infant, " Nathan added, "But it was too late. The scans all showed little or no brain activity. He died shortly after we got to the hospital."

"The family declined life support and further resusitation?" Ezra asked.

"Yeah." The healer sighed angrily.

"I would imagine it was for the best."

Chris wanted to be angry, but he couldn't find it in himself to disagree. Eight months old, to live what little life there would be...no, Ezra was right, it was better this way.

"Guess the Lord needed a little angel by his side..." With that determined comment, Josiah broke down, Nathan's hand on his neck rubbing lightly.

The agents and the police having ruled out any type of foul play, no charges would be filed and they had left the family alone to grieve in peace. It was well into night and the strain, though no less for having been an accident, of the case was catching up to all of them.

A decisive snapping closed of the casefile brought four sets of reddened eyes to their leader. "Go home. Get some sleep." He looked around and announced, "I don't care if it *is* Wednesday, we all have tomorrow off. I'll clear it with the judge."

"Need it." The profiler agreed, accepting the washcloth from Ezra and wiping his eyes.

"No shit." Larabee's words held a sarcastic bite and he waved it off. "Nevermind. Go home. And I don't want to see any of ya until Thursday morning." He demanded they leave the paperwork and Josiah and Nathan filed out; Chris closed the door behind them and locked it.

"Chris?"

Larabee drew in a shuddering breath and released it, appearing to have found a little of his normal balance with the closure the details had brought. He would actually read the reports later but for now, he was content to let the matter drop until then. "Bed. Both of you."

The tracker met green and hazel eyes and demanded, "All of us."

Turning off the lights, checking the door, the three men headed down the hall, undressed and clung to each other, making a conscious effort at leaving the job behind on the kitchen table. Sliding into bed, content to hold and be held in return, one by one, they fell asleep, Chris the last to give in. He sighed, careful not to wake Ezra, curled in his arms, and whispered, "Goodnight Tripp."

One more silent prayer to the ceiling, Larabee closed his eyes, the image of Adam in Heaven playing with the baby burned into his lids.

Alone in the quiet darkness of the farmhouse, surrounded by candles, JD Dunne sat calmly, hands on his knees. His eyes closed, his breath wafted softly in the stillness broken only by the flames bathing his face with dancing golden light. A sudden smile broke the serene meditation though JD never opened his eyes.

And the sound of a baby's gurgle and a child's laughter blessed and carried into the silent night.

• * * End * * *