Team Magna 1: Complete

INTRODUCTION

Team Magna is composed of seven members:

Chris Larabee, the leader, possesses the physical gifts of super agility, and is able to defy gravity, plus create weapons out of energy. He is also psychic.

Buck Wilmington, an experienced empath, can read emotions and has the power to manipulate a person's mind. While normally unable to sense specific thoughts, his abilities are augmented when in close proximity with his team members, and he can read their minds. He also has the ability to accept another person's pain into his own body. As an empath, he can penetrate a non-empathic person's mind easily, because there's no protective wall built around that person's mind.

Vin Tanner has hyperactive senses and has honed his talents through years of experience.

Ezra Standish is a shapeshifter. He has the ability to shift into another human form only. He also has the ability to confuse and confound, to appear to be in one place while being in another. He possesses telekinetic powers and is able to open locked doors.

Josiah Sanchez is the man of steel with the strength of ten men. He also heals quickly when he is injured. He can see on a spiritual plane, i.e. ghosts and wraiths, etc. He's able to sense when an evil presence is near.

Nathan Jackson is an empathic healer; he can heal with his touch. He can also discern what illnesses or conditions -- cancer, blood disorders, and heart disease -- a person possesses by touching them. His powers are greater where the Seven are concerned -- he can heal them faster.

JD Dunne is a strong empath, like Buck, only less experienced. He can sense feelings, see auras, and knows when someone is lying or upset. As with the rest of the seven, his powers are strongest when he's with the team. Like Buck, he's able to take another person's pain into his own body, thereby lessening that person's discomfort, but finds it more difficult to delve into another empath's mind than a non-empathic person.

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Chris Larabee discovered early that he possessed powers that made him different. He learned quickly to hide his gifts, preferring to appear normal rather than being set apart. He met Buck Wilmington while working with the ATF. They discovered accidentally that they both had powers that set them apart from normal men.

Chris eventually fell in love and married, but his wife and child were later killed in an explosion. Distraught, Chris and Buck left the ATF. They were later approached and asked to join an elite Agency because of the special powers they possessed. There, they met Vin Tanner, a man with heightened senses, and Nathan Jackson, a man who could heal with his touch. They realized quickly that their powers grew stronger when the four of them worked together. After they discovered the true corrupted nature of the Agency they tried to leave but were stopped. Aided by one of the top researchers at the facility, Orrin Travis, they were able to escape.

While in contact with Travis soon after, who also left the Agency, Nathan mentioned a friend to Travis he believed would be helpful to their group. Travis agreed, and Josiah Sanchez, an extremely strong man, joined them. Working with leads provided by Travis, the team found out the location of Evans, a Rogue Researcher who had been forced to leave the Agency. They rescue JD Dunne, an empath the Rogue tricked into helping him, and Ezra Standish, a shapeshifter, and the two decide to join the team.

The team is based in a converted warehouse where they live and train. Travis calls on them from time to time for help, usually in tracking down the men who worked at the agency who continue to exploit others with powers like the seven possess.

PART ONE

Sarah held him; her hands warmed his skin. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed deeply. She laughed; the delicate bell sound echoed in his ears and tickled something deep inside his chest. A smile came unbidden to his face; he felt happy.

The dream shattered with the phone ringing by his bed. With a groan, Chris rolled to his side and picked up the receiver. "Yeah?" His sleep-gruffened voice rose in his throat like air bubbles toward the surface.

"Larabee. It's Travis. I've found Evans."

It was disturbing how that name brought an instant flood of anger and pain, evoking feelings of helplessness and betrayal.

"Where?"

"A little over three hours from you, near Batesville."

"Why tell me? Call the local cops, they'll handle it." Chris relaxed his shoulders and readjusted his fingers on the phone, getting ready to hang up.

"He's experimenting again."

Abruptly he grew cold and shivered slightly. He closed his eyes, replacing the darkness of his room with a remembered blackness he'd give his right arm to forget. A tidal wave threatened to crash over his head. He held the memories back with an effort. "Where, exactly?"

"He's bought an old clinic outside the town limits. A papermill moved in about thirty miles outside of Batesville and the town dried up, everyone moved away. All the businesses eventually shut down, including the clinic. There's no one there to stop him, no one to keep him from doing it all over again."

"Then I guess it's time for a road trip." The words were sharp, all hint of sleepiness gone. "I'll tell the boys in the morning. We'll get started soon as we've got everything ready and know what we're heading into." He imagined Travis tucking his chin into his chest, an expression of approval decorating his craggy old face.

"I'll send you what I have through fax."

"Good enough." Knowing the conversation was over, Chris hung up the phone. He rolled to his back, letting his thoughts travel paths that had been forged through pain and despair so many months before.

The memories were like deep trenches he couldn't escape. Every time he thought he'd climbed high enough to freedom, something sent him crashing back to the bottom. Remembering pushed him back through time, pulling him along in its deadly swift current tumbling head over heart in fear.

Even as he resisted, a memory assaulted his senses. The hospital smells of medicines and antiseptic, cold fluorescent lighting, a small, bare cot, and Buck, curled up against the wall and restrained in a straightjacket. The images returned in startling detail. Horror had locked him in place when he'd walked into the room. With all his worrying, he could have never imagined Buck forced to such a state.

Buck had been the only person who had cared enough to put up with Chris' grief. Despondent and unable to deal with the loss of his wife and child, Chris allowed Buck to talk him into answering the invitation of the Agency. It was time they learned why they were different, his friend said, time they learned what they could do with their special abilities. Chris didn't agree, really, he just didn't care one way or the other.

Silence had been his best friend since the funeral. Later he realized that it had been Buck all along -- Buck and his determination to stand by him, even when Chris pushed him away. Buck had tolerated the silence, keeping all intruders at bay, offering ballast in the torrential flood of grief.

The vivid memory of discovering Buck, broken and shaken, several months later in one of the labs, had long since been banished along with others -- a fire, rubble where a house once stood, a singed tricycle. But if this image could return with such clarity, bringing with it such frightening emotion, couldn't those as well?

When Chris found him that day, Buck sat hunched in a corner of that sterile Agency room. Usually such a strong and fearless man, it was nearly unbelievable what Evans' experiments had done to his confidence. Chris had received visions of discord between Evans and Buck, and Evans and Tanner, but it had never been clear enough so that he could act on it.

He'd learned how to control his visions long ago -- entertaining them just long enough to gain needed information then releasing the images. Painful lessons had taught him that if a vision came to mind unbidden, he needed to give it his full attention. Experiments at the Agency had stretched his limits, forcing him to fight constantly for control and knocking his tenuous balance out of sync. He'd been unable to pull himself together quick enough to help his friends. While he knew Evans could prove to be trouble for Vin or Buck, he wouldn't have dreamed of this.

In the back of his thoughts, Chris registered the beginnings of a headache -- one that would surely torment him by daybreak. He knew he should get up and take something before it worsened, but the memoories tied him too tightly for him to shake them off and take logical action.

He hurried to Buck and slowly knelt beside him. "Buck?" Buck wouldn't lift his head; he kept his face pressed to his knees. Tentatively, Chris eased closer but didn't touch him. "It's me. It's Chris." Receiving no response, Chris rested his hand on Buck's back. Buck trembling violently. "Easy there, pard. You're all right." He growled over his shoulder at Travis and indicated the straightjacket binding Buck's arms to his body. "Who put him in this?"

"I don't know." Travis' voice sounded flattened with shock. "I didn't know what they were doing, Larabee. I didn't know they were doing this to him."

Ignoring the unspoken plea for forgiveness, Chris kept his hand on Buck's back. "You don't need this jacket, do you?" His throat tightened when Buck didn't answer. He reached for the buckles in the back of the jacket. "Listen to me. I'm gonna get you out of here." He glanced over his shoulder, determination tightening his words. "I'm gonna get us all out of here." Turning back, he shifted his touch to Buck's neck. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Travis cut in. "I'll get one of the doctors."

"No! I don't trust any of them." He looked up to ensure his message was clear. "Give us a few minutes."

Travis nodded. "I'll be right outside."

He waited until the heavy door thudded closed, then carefully, gently, lifted Buck's head. "Aw, Buck . . ."

Buck wouldn't look at him, but Chris could tell he'd resisted whatever the researchers had wanted him to do. Bruises mottled his face and circled his eyes like some bizarre mask. He touched him carefully. "Look at me."

Finally, after an eternity, Buck opened his eyes. Wrinkles folded around his features as he squinted in an expression of pain. Chris vowed revenge on the people responsible for Buck's suffering.

"It's all right." Chris cleared his throat of the gruffness roughing his words. "It's gonna be fine."

Confusion drew deep lines across Buck's forehead. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again. He squeezed his eyes shut and brimming tears escaped to roll down his cheeks.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Buck opened his eyes and looked at Chris with disbelief. "You're hurt."

"What? I'm not --"

Buck leaned forward, pressing closer. Agitation tightened his words. "They hurt you." Before Chris could say anything, Buck swallowed and continued. "You were hurt and I couldn't help you. I tried, Chris, I swear, but I couldn't get a lock on you. He used some kind of neural transmitter, I think, to keep blocking me."

"Who? Who wouldn't let you?"

Pulling his head away from Chris, he dropped his gaze to the floor. "I wanted to get to you before it was too late." A shuddering breath shook his frame. "I tried to get to Vin, too. They were killing him. They were killing him and I couldn't stop it; I couldn't accept his pain, but I could read -- see -- feel -- everything. Every detail opened in my mind . . . felt like it twisted my gut and tore me out." Buck's head lifted and he focused intense eyes on Chris. "They were killing him, killing you both."

A cold fury churned as Chris began to understand what had happened. "It's all right. Vin's all right. He's not hurt."

Buck turned tortured eyes back to Chris. "No, he's dead. He's dead."

"He's not."

"He's dead. I -- I felt him die."

"How? Were you in the room?"

Buck shook his head. "But I was close, I had to be close. Evans wanted to know if I could -- " Buck trembled. His voice wavered, grew tremulous. "He wanted to know if I could mind-read someone through death, see if II could sense them after death." His eyes squeezed shut and his chin dropped to his chest. "Why did he want to know something like that?"

"Because he's sick. He's a twisted son of a bitch. He didn't need to know that."

"Why did he have to use a friend?" Buck sounded so weak.

Chris gripped Buck's neck tightly. "Look at me." When Buck turned to him he spoke deliberately. "Vin Tanner is alive. He's fine. I don't know who it was, but you sensed someone else. It wasn't me, and it wasn't him."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never lied to you. I'm sure. I saw him today."

Buck shook his head slowly. "Thank God."

"Why the jacket?" Chris finished with the buckles and started untying the straightjacket that bound Buck's arms too tightly.

"I fought. Since I couldn't draw his pain away, I tried to get to him instead."

It seemed unlikely that Evans would do anything this crazy; it would blow the whole project if he were discovered. Why did he torture Buck, how could he justify putting his subject in a straightjacket and no one question his tactics? Nothing made sense, but a sudden chill raced through him to realize Evans felt secure enough to chance something this dangerous and remain confident no one at the Agency would take action against him.

His thoughts were interrupted when Buck groaned loudly.

"How long have you been in the jacket?"

"Don't remember."

He squeezed Buck's shoulder and continued pulling the jacket off, careful of sore joints and bruises.

"Vin's alive?" Buck repeated his earlier question and Chris hid his worry.

"Yeah. I'll take you to him. He's fine."

"And you're all right?"

He eased the jacket off the rest of the way and shifted around to face Buck. "I'm fine. We need to get you to a doctor, though. You may have been drugged or something." Buck shifted to stand and Chris scooped a hand under his arm and pulled him from the floor. The injured man leaned heavily against him, stumbling drunkenly as he stood. He clamped trembling fingers to Chris' arm.

"Just take me home, Chris, okay?"

Momentarily confused, Chris glanced around the room. "You mean back to your room?"

"No." Buck stared intently into Chris' eyes. "I want out of here. I want to go home."

Chris nodded, swallowing hard. "Okay, Buck. I'll take you."

Subsequent tests proved that Buck had been drugged, but within the parameters of legitimate prescriptions. Still, Chris and the others had learned since the incident that drugs had a strikingly different effect on mind readers and empaths. Evans clearly knew this and took advantage of it. The more Chris learned about Evans' unauthorized experiments the angrier he became.

Evans had preyed on Buck's vulnerability -- his compassion for other people -- and used it to torture him. Chris had feared for Buck's recovery. Hearing a friend had died was bad enough; actually *feeling* that friend die was entirely different. Thanks to steady friends like Nathan Jackson, Buck had recovered. He and Josiah spent hours with Buck and had managed to heal his spirit. Chris would be eternally grateful for that.

PART TWO

That same night, while Chris battled his nightmares, JD Dunne battled some demons of his own. The young empath stood frozen in the middle of a large room filled with beds, overcome with an incredible deluge of emotion and pain swelling out and crashing into him. As if shielding himself in a storm, JD raised his arms to cover his head and bent slowly from the onslaught drumming into his mind and body.

"Focus, Mr. Dunne. Don't let the volume overwhelm your strength. You must find a way to pinpoint one person through the crowd and help them."

JD shook his head at the disembodied voice and doubled over in agony. Moans and screams filtered through to his mind and his body began to ache with all the different ailments that assaulted him. "I can't!"

"You have to. What would you do if a member of your team needed your help?

What if a friend were hurt and you needed to get them out of danger, but you had to fight through a room of wounded men to get to him?"

He clasped both hands to his head and slit his eyes open. Chest constricting, JD gasped. "I -- I don't know any of these people. How can I --?" Agony speared through his head. Crying out, he collapsed to his knees buut managed to keep from falling face-first to the floor. "There's too many!"

"Pick one. You won't leave this room until you've shown me you can focus through the different signals and help one."

Anger bled through briefly and JD used the strong emotion to push himself to his feet. Glaring at the two-way mirror where he knew Dr. Evans was watching, he stumbled closer to one of the beds and leaned against the bedstead. The iron frame felt ice cold in his grip. Closing his eyes, he let the darkness pull him down into the well of his mind, diving deep into the pain and suffering that had been gathering there since he'd walked into the room.

A crooked spine, a mind numb from drugs, limbs crippled from abuse, lungs black and shrunken with too many years of smoking, cancer riddled guts -- he accepted them all, unconscious of his own body convulsing and violently arching with his efforts. Weariness, madness, annger, sorry, grief, hatred and fear all swirled together in a tornadic rush that swept down on his head. Barely keeping his feet on the ground, JD's body surged, his chest filling, arms thrown out, as he swam through the tumult looking for that one small voice that could anchor him and pull him back to shore. Stretching, reaching, fingers spread wide and grasping, seeking for one among the many. There, almost there. One voice, one pain, one calling to him above the others.

Sarah. Adam. Buck, help me.

+ + + + + + +

A noise woke Chris up and the pitiful cry for his family and call for help from Buck dissipated. When had he fallen asleep?

Terrifying how Evans could still hold such power over his mind that the mere mention of his name could resurrect not only memories, but emotions and, heaven help him, a migraine. Strangely enough, just as the first tendrils of pain built behind his eye, they disappeared. Relieved, Chris pushed the covers back and rolled to his side, drifting back into sleep.

+ + + + + + +

Pulling air into oxygen-starved lungs, JD fell, suddenly realizing that he'd somehow reached far beyond this room and touched someone else. Abruptly, a blinding headache formed, and his throat constricted with grief. He couldn't move, couldn't call out for help.

Hands clamped to his arms and pulled him up. Despite being unable to control his feet, someone dragged him from the room. Pushed into a chair, JD sagged, his chin against his chest, and gasped, slowly catching his breath. The familiar pinprick on the side of his arm didn't even bring a reaction.

"This will keep your energy level up, Mr. Dunne."

A cold alcohol-soaked cotton ball swabbed the place where the needle had pierced his skin, soothing away the annoying heat of penetration. "Can't I rest for a minute first, Dr. Evans?" He lifted his head and looked hopefully into his trainer's face.

"How do you expect to hone your skills if you don't push yourself? The Agency only accepts those who are willing to work hard. If you want to be invited to join their elite group, you must prove that you can handle situations like the one in that room out there."

JD shuddered and turned to gaze at the door as if he could see past it into the room full of patients. "It all rushes at me at once. I can't sort them out into individuals and deal with them one at a time."

"But you have to. And you will." The tall researcher's mouth stretched into a faint grin that disappeared quickly. He patted JD on the shoulder. "I believe you almost had it that time. Think how far you've come in the three weeks you've been here."

JD let his head fall, dragging between his shoulders. "You're right."

"Now, I want you to join Peek and the others in the east wing."

Stiffening with dread, JD glanced at his teacher before looking back at the floor. "I don't understand why you put me with them, Dr. Evans."

A heavy sigh preluded Evan's reply. "Because you need to learn how to block thoughts and emotions as well as accepting them." A note of impatience bled into Evans' voice. "Hurry. I'll be in the observation room."

"I'll be right there." Pulling himself to his feet, JD hurried out of the room. He knew it wouldn't do to keep Dr. Evans waiting. He was allowed one hour a day to sit in his isolated, shielded room, and he didn't want to loose that privilege. That one hour rest did more to restore his sanity and peace of mind than any of the drugs and sedatives Evans had pumped into him.

Realizing he had to join Peek and the others, JD's pace slowed as he neared his room. There was something he wanted to do first.

When Dr. Evans had first approached him, JD had been guarded of the proposal to join the researcher. He'd never heard of the Agency, and felt uneasy and a little fearful that someone knew of his empathic gifts. But the doctor had been quick to assure him of his legitimate research, and promised to show him ways to use his gifts that would help others. Alone, broke and still grieving after his mother's death six months before, JD had finally consented.

Dr. Evans' research lab was simple: an old abandoned clinic just outside of

Batesville. Training had started simple, then become more complicated within just a day or two. Daniel Peek and his small group of friends came to stay at the facility, and JD welcomed the company, but it soon became apparent that

Daniel and the others knew what he was and feared him for it. The added guests at the old clinic served only to make him feel more alone, rather than offering companionship. Two days ago, several terminal patients from one of the nearby hospitals and one or two residents from a local sanitarium were added to the mix.

At first alarmed, then frightened when he realized what the newcomers were for, JD felt helpless to refuse Dr. Evans' training. He had nowhere else to go, no other means of making money to care for himself. He'd found it difficult to exist in the world, unable to fully block out thoughts, emotions, and pains from those around him. He'd hoped Dr. Evans training, and later joining the Agency, would give him the skills he needed to survive with his gifts. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Kneeling by his bed, he pulled out a small square of cloth he kept stuffed in his pocket and arranged it over one hand. He bent and reached under the cot to the wall and touched the box he kept hidden there. Careful to keep the cloth over his hand, he pulled it from its hiding place and tucked it close to his knees, but didn't open it. Like looking through an old family album, each object inside held a treasure trove of memories and emotions. His empathic gift blessed him with the unique ability to relive the moments as vividly as if he'd stepped back through time.

A piece of lace, a watch, and a favorite barrette: things that belonged to his mother and his link to feeling her presence with him again. But along with the comfort came pain and the despair of watching her slowly die. Determination kept him coming back to the box, hoping to hone his skills enough so that he could enjoy thinking of his mother and holding her things, finding a way to block out the pain and misery of her death.

Fingers quivering, he pulled out a key from where it hung around his neck by a long thin chain and reached for the lock.

"Mr. Dunne."

Startled, JD looked up with Evan's call over the intercom.

"Yes sir?"

"I need you now, the experiment is ready. Join the others."

JD nodded respectfully, his hand poised over the box that held his mother's things. "Yes sir. Right after I finish--"

"Now. That wasn't a suggestion."

"Yes sir!" Snapping up sharply, JD quickly secured the lock and stuffed the tiny key back into his shirt. Using the cloth, he slid the box under his cot and hurried out of the room.

PART THREE

Vin rolled over restlessly in bed. He'd heard a voice and his mind had risen out of dreams almost to the point of waking. Automatically, his hearing compensated for distance and volume. Chris' voice funneled to him through the large warehouse, his words tightly bitten off as if he were angry. Another voice Vin recognized as Orrin Travis overlapped Chris' answer; the older man's words sounded farther away and muffled. A name caught, hooking his attention away from the conversation.

*Evans*.

Without the pull of concentrating on the phone call, Vin slipped back into sleep. Darkness invaded his dreams, wrapped thick arms around his sanity and pulled him into a nightmare so deep and dank he could barely breathe.

Accustomed to constant noises and rhythms thrumming against his ears, Vin found himself unbalanced with silence, reaching for a wall and touching it to ground himself. White walls, white ceiling, glaring white lights, and no details to break up the monotony. Nothing he could hear but pressure he could *feel* clamped tight as a vice around his skull.

The last thing he remembered was reaching for the light switch in his room at the Agency. A brilliant flash had caught him by surprise and he'd cried out, dropping the coat and book in his arms to shield his eyes. Normally able to adjust any of his augmented senses when something out of the ordinary happened, he found himself helplessly blind, stumbling hard against his door. A firm grip around his arm and something soft pressed to his face, forcing his head back, only confused him more. He inhaled, then choked and coughed when fire seemed to sear through his lungs.

Arms encircled him and dragged him to the floor. His cheekbone hit hard, bouncing against the thin carpet, but he barely felt the impact as the drug worked through his system. The awareness that his senses were being targeted imbrued him with fear; panic blindsided him and he began struggling against his assailant, realizing he'd waited too late to fight. A name screeched out of his throat before he even realized who he was calling.

"Chris!"

Someone crushed the cloth to his face again, yanking his head back cruelly.

Tears sprang to his eyes with the strain on his arching neck. His blind eyes widened in dreadful alarm when his lungs locked and refused to expand.

Deprived of oxygen, his limbs grew rubbery and finally fell limp against the floor when he passed out. He didn't feel the burn of carpet against skin when someone rolled him savagely to his back, uncaring of how his face dragged across the floor. Oblivion protected him from feeling the pull in his joints when one of his attackers yanked him from the floor and tossed him over their shoulder.

He awoke in the white room, gradually regaining his sight, sense of touch, and ease in breathing. Sore places on his body vied for attention, but a greater need focused his thoughts elsewhere. The conversation he'd shared with Chris that afternoon kept playing over and over in his mind. Evans and his cruel, inhuman experiments had driven them to the inevitable conclusion: they needed to leave the Agency. Who else but Evans would have the boldness to attack him and throw him here, in this room where none of his senses could pierce. He and Chris had obviously been overheard, and the worry that something worse had been done to his friend grated at his mind, filling him with images too frightening to study.

But having his senses stifled distracted him from his thoughts. What was it

Evans didn't want him to hear? Instead of being able to concentrate on that question, Vin found himself straining harder and harder to listen. Knowing that if the dampening fields were to be turned off suddenly, he'd probably be deafened by the usual sounds around him didn't deter his efforts. He'd known Chris for only a few months, but it had been long enough to recognize the man for what he was: loyal to his friends, and willing to give his life to save another. It was Chris' unassuming role of hero that drew Vin to him in the first place. That, and the fact that he never backed down to Evans, no matter how intimidating the man could be.

By the time the lock turned and his door opened, Vin was nearly frantic with needing to escape. He didn't expect to see Chris' face, but his relief was immediate. When Chris told him what had been done to Buck, the anger and the need to leave the Agency returned. Vin automatically adjusted his hearing as sound returned when they left the room and hurried to their friends.

"Nathan's with him now, but Buck needs more than an empathic healer this time."

"What do you mean?" Pausing just long enough to brace his arm against Chris and make sure no one occupied the halls ahead of them, Vin indicated it was clear and lowered his arm.

"He thought we were dead, Vin."

Vin snapped his head to Chris. "Why?"

"Evans told him he had us, said we were in the next room." Chris shifted, pointing down another hall. Vin followed him as he turned. "He used some kind of transmitter to block Buck, so he could focus enough to feel their pain, but couldn't get a lock on whoever he sensed. Buck just took Evans at his word and believed it was us."

"Son of a bitch."

"Yeah." Chris stopped and pressed his hand against Vin's chest to let him know they'd reached the room. Instead of opening the door, he turned to him, his mouth set grimly. "Evans made Buck stay in contact with them until they died. Said he wanted to know if Buck could sense their presence after death."

"If he could -- why?"

"Because he's insane, Vin. We're getting out of here. Tonight, if possible.

Travis is gonna help. He'll be here later."

Vin nodded. "I need to scout around then, make sure no one's suspicious of what we're doing." He shifted, pulling away, when Chris grabbed his arm.

"Not yet. I want you to come with me first and see Buck." Chris paused a beat. "He needs to see you're alive."

Acting as if he didn't hear the waver in Chris' voice, Vin simply nodded and waited for him to open the door. One step into the room froze him where he stood. Buck lay on his side on a narrow cot, knees drawn close, arms cradled to his body, his eyes open and staring at nothing. Or maybe he could see something that even Vin could never see. Nathan bent low over him, his dark face held perfectly still, his brow smooth, his body rocking gently back and forth in a soothing rhythm. Both hands lay spread against Buck's chest.

The image of his first meeting with Buck, the wide infectious grin, crinkled eyes, strong jaw and rounded cheeks, juxtaposed with the shrunken and ruined man he saw now. Whatever he'd suffered through, whatever Evans had done to him, was far too high a price to pay for this thing they called the Agency. It was time to leave, now, before one of them died. He prayed it wasn't too late for Buck.

Morning light lay warm against his face. Vin woke suddenly, grateful to leave the cloying fear and despair of his nightmare behind. Rising quickly, he dressed and hurried downstairs, eager to hear if Chris had news about how to find Evans and put an end to his torture.

+ + + + + + +

Immovable. He let his body grow heavier, trying to slip back into sleep, but the sharp blade of morning light slid insistently between the day-night shades. Josiah wanted none of it. He and morning had a daily battle and the big man had learned to hold it off a few minutes more every day. Even when his brain was fully awake, he kept his body motionless in hopes that he could steal a few more precious moments of sleep.

A sudden thwack on his door, and Chris' insensitive hollering for everyone to be downstairs in ten, pissed Josiah off. He'd spent twice that long in the john --longer if there were anything good to read in there. Defiantly, Josiah called on his ability to become massively strong -- settling deeper "like a rock," as Vin often joked. But anxious voices and slamming doors convinced him that this was not the day to sleep in. Josiah forced his body out of bed. Fumbling through his chest of drawers for a clean undershirt, he figured he'd join the team in ten. His belly rumbled loudly and he amended his thought: maybe he'd join them in fifteen.

+ + + + + + +

Chris cursed the Mr. Coffee machine, then cursed the coffee itself. The lukewarm sludge wasn't worth the trouble, but he took it like medicine, if only for the caffeine. Opening his mouth to call for the others, he flinched when a hand landed on his shoulder. Instinct turned him suddenly and his coffee sloshed onto Vin Tanner's shirt.

"Whoa man!" Vin shifted back but couldn't avoid the mess. Chris cursed at him for startling him and Vin snapped back. "Listen, Evans wins if he gets you off your game."

"How did you --?"

"How do you think?" Vin dragged his shirt over his head while he reached for the refrigerator door. "We need to end this with Evans." Holding his soiled shirt away from himself with one hand, he reached for the carton of orange juice with the other.

Chris took the shirt and tossed it in the sink. "Sorry."

Vin shrugged. "You gotta keep it together, Chris. How's Buck gonna get through this if you're this wired?"

"How's Buck gonna what?" The tall empath lumbered in.

Chris watched the genial smile fade.

Buck shrugged. "What?"

There was no way to avoid it, really. Buck reached for Chris' shoulder, but Chris stepped away from him. He couldn't let the empath sense the hot anger that consumed him. He questioned the wisdom of subjecting Buck to Evans again; the only man who'd ever been able to break his spirit.

While Chris simply stood there, Vin stepped in and led a bewildered Buck to the big dining table where the faxes from Travis were scattered.

Sitting down heavily, Buck picked up one of the papers and scanned the information. "Oh God, not this . . ."

Buck's mumbling prayer gathered Chris' anger into a churning ball in his stomach. For the second time this morning a hand touched his shoulder. This time he recognized the gentling presence of the healer. "I'm fine." His clenched jaw belied his statement.

Nathan snorted. "No, but you're gonna be."

Protest formed on his lips but a calming wave already warmed his body, settling his stomach and his over-stimulated heartbeat. He should make a note to ask Nathan how he dissipated his anger so quickly.

+ + + + + + +

By the time Josiah made it downstairs, the guys were gathering their gear.

Nathan sat alone at the dining table, drinking one of those strange health drinks; a concoction he made with some kind of grainy protein powder.

"There's some left in the blender," Nathan offered in a dull monotone.

"So fill me in." Josiah grabbed a tumbler out of the dishwasher and hesitantly poured the rest of the gritty liquid into it.

"One of Travis' guys found Evans."

Josiah frowned and grabbed a chair next to Nathan. Fingering through the papers on the table, he hooked one and dragged it toward him. It was a poorly copied photo of a man who obviously wasn't aware he was being photographed. Josiah squinted at it. "Wasn't that the guy . . .?"

"That's the one." The healer glanced up at the trio arming themselves by the door.

As if he felt the gaze, Chris looked at them. "You coming?"

"Yeah." Nathan gulped down the last of his drink.

Josiah discreetly set his tumbler down without drinking. "So are we just taking him down the usual way?"

"It won't be that easy." Vin slipped his shoulder holster on as he answered.

"Bastard's set up shop again. We could be facing a whole army of his freaks."

"Freaks?" Buck grew still with the challenging question. "Is that what you think?"

Josiah stood up slowly. Aside from Travis' rather clinical explanation, nobody had ever discussed the time spent in the Agency with him.

Vin shrugged. "No, that's not what I mean. I'm just saying --"

"The ones who're too weak to get away from him are freaks. Is that it?"

The moment froze in tableau, only it vibrated with an energy that could erupt into something nuclear. Josiah drew his strength inward, allowing his body to gain power, ready to step in. He almost expected Buck to punch Vin, and knew he would be needed to stop them. He never would have thought he could have misread a situation so completely.

+ + + + + + +

As a kid, Vin had learned to escape uncomfortable situations by listening for the most distant sound he could home in on. He wished he could use that childish game now to hide from Buck's look of disbelief. Stupid, Tanner. What had possessed him to use that word? He'd loathed it growing up, not for his abilities, because no one knew about them. They called him "freak" for a bunch of other reasons.

Vin shook his head. "You know that's not what I meant, Buck."

"I don't know what--"

"You know that's not what I meant." Vin repeated it like a mantra, and he gripped the empath's shoulder, letting Buck see the truth in his eyes, allowing him to understand. Chris' presence behind Buck completed a circle -- of protection or perhaps a circle of strength. To Vin, it was both or maybe something that transcended either.

Vin knew that Buck no longer questioned his choice of words, but he still needed to say it. "He treated all of us like freaks. He collected us like lab rats and tested us 'til . . . " He couldn't end his thought -- he didn't need to -- because Buck hooked a strong arm around his neck and leaned closer.

"It's all right. We got a little army of our own, now. Let's go get the son of a bitch."

Buck let him go and leaned back to show his grin, but a blue-fire determination burned in his eyes. Vin nodded. It was time.

+ + + + + + +

Chris watched his team board the van. Keenly aware of the danger surrounding any mission, he knew this mission was more than that; the quarry knew too much about his men. Chris made sure the team knew that this job would have to be a tactical and strategic win.

"You coming?" Buck stood at his elbow.

Chris nodded absently. "Buck, are you really ready for this?"

Buck shook his head. "Who can ever be ready for this? I'm as ready as you are."

Chris had to give him that. Who could be ready to take on an enemy who knew your IQ and inseam?

Buck would be okay.

Chris slapped him on the back. "Hey, thanks for your help last night."

"What help?"

"That migraine. There one minute, gone the next."

"Wasn't me. Maybe that Excedrin worked for you."

Frowning, Chris shifted into the driver's seat. "Didn't take anything." Apparently, Buck didn't hear him; he jumped into the back, slamming the door to the van and to that little mystery as well.

PART FOUR

Parking in the darkness, away from the security lights that lined the building, Chris and the others moved quietly through the trees and underbrush to the old clinic. In the lead, Buck kept low and hurried through the lighted area. Reaching the corner of the building, he waited as the others gathered in behind him. When they'd all arrived, Chris gave the signal to move on.

"Wait." Buck held his hand against the side of the building. His eyes darted back and forth and his breathing quickened.

"Buck?"

He turned to Chris. "Empath. He's got an empath." Something he'd never felt before flowed through him. He'd worked with other empaths before, but had never experienced this strong feeling of connection. Certain the empath inside the building felt his presence too, Buck kept still and allowed some of the discomfort the other suffered to melt into him.

Buck leaned forward and touched his head to the building. Chris grasped his arm, anchoring him. "Can you tell if he's working with Evans or not?"

Vin spoke before Buck could answer. "He'd not."

They all turned to look at Vin. Vin held himself stiffly, his eyes focused on something distant.

"Evans is testing him, forcing him to -- read different objects he'd handing him. Doesn't sound like the boy is handling it very well but Evans keeps pushing him, isn't allowing him time to, uh --"

"Cleanse himself of the first reading."

"Yeah." Vin nodded at Buck. "The boy says everything's overlapping in his mind and mixing together too fast for him to separate, but Evans isn't slowing down."

"Boy?"

Vin looked at Chris. "His voice sounds young to me. He could be 40 for all I know."

"Let's find out." Nathan pushed in between the others. He carefully gripped Buck's shoulder, perhaps lending some of his skills to the troubled empath.

Chris ordered, "Vin, you lead the way. Josiah, stay here, wait for us. If we're not out in thirty minutes, you know what to do."

The strong man nodded, determination set in his eyes.

Vin worked his way around them and entered the building first. Voices mumbled low and indistinguishable from deep inside the old clinic, but they were far enough away and he didn't try to focus on them. Instead, he tuned his hearing to a finer point and swept the halls closer to them. The only voices he could hear were Evans and the kid. Machinery thrummed steadily against his hearing, which Vin easily ignored. Glancing over his shoulder, he motioned for his friends to follow, then carefully hurried inside.

He listened, infuriated, as Evans apparently handed the empath one item after another. Vin heard the trembling in the kid's voice as he struggled to identify who it belonged to.

Even from this distance he could sense changes in the boy's body. Temperature spiked, heart racing, his voice weakening, then becoming slightly muffled, as if he'd dropped his head to his chest and wasn't looking up.

After the entranceway, Vin led them down a long corridor. Small alcoves that probably used to be nurses' stations and waiting areas opened in regular intervals along the hall. When they came to a juncture, he stopped and waited for the others to gather around him.

"The kid and Evans are two doors down on your right. No one's there but them, and the boy needs help. Now." He pointed with his eyes in another direction. "I'm picking up a heartbeat from farther down this hall, sounds like someone else in trouble. It's isolated, no one's near him, so I'm going to check it out."

With a quick nod, Chris assented. "Be careful. We'll meet you back where we started in fifteen minutes. If you're not there we're coming to look for you."

"I'll be there." He refocused on Evans and heard the kid's voice, small and strained, "Too fast . . . " Evans answered him briskly, unfeelingly, "It's part of the test." Vin shook his head. "You need to get going." He turned to leave.

Chris watched him go, then shifted to face Buck and wrap one hand around his arm. "I want you to check this out, Buck. See exactly what we're walking into, see if you can find out what kind of condition the kid's in, and where he is."

He watched Buck open the connection. Immediately, shock folded lines around Buck's mouth and eyes. Evidently, this was worse than even Vin knew.

"They're both on the other side of the room, away from the door. I think Evans has his back to us, and the kid is facing him."

Ready to confront Evans, Chris indicated for Nathan to go. Under his hand, Buck's arm suddenly hardened as his muscles flexed.

"No. He can't -- " Buck twisted to face Chris, his eyes wide with fear. "We need to get to him."

"All right, let's go." Chris moved, taking his friends with him.

Hurrying into the room, Chris quickly took note of the exits, and where Evans stood. The only other person in the room besides Evans was a boy: on his knees, his back bent, one arm bracing him from falling, shoulder-length dark hair hiding his face. From what Chris could see, he was young. Very young, and probably far too inexperienced to manage whatever hell Evans was putting him through.

"This ends now."

Evans lifted his chin, and his eyes narrowed in anger and recognition at Chris. Chris reached to intercept the object, he now recognized as a swatch of fabric, Evans held, but the researcher pressed the item into the boy's hand before Chris could reach him. With a wailing cry, the young empath wrapped one arm around his body and shielded his head with his other arm, then collapsed to his side on the floor. His entire body quaked. Before Chris could move, Buck gathered the boy in his arms.

Chris rushed to them and wrenched the fabric from the kid's fist. As soon as he held it, he recognized it as part of a uniform.

Buck drew the huddled empath into his arms as easily as if he'd known him all his life. He glared at the Evans and barked his accusation. "You know what this is doing to him." The kid pressed his forehead into Buck's stomach, burrowing into the offered shelter. Memories, both distant and new, cascaded into Buck's mind. "It's bad enough he's got to live with his own pain and heartache, but you're making him carry other people's, too. Why the hell are you pushing him so hard, Evans?"

"Because we need to know if he will crumble in the field." Evans moved slowly, shifting behind the small table that held the objects. "But I don't believe he'll ever be a true empath."

Abruptly, Buck felt something change in the boy. He couldn't tell if the emotional spike was the young empath's pain or a culmination of everything he'd absorbed in the last fifteen minutes. But the kid was suddenly struggling to breathe.

"Nathan!" Buck called, only to find the healer at his shoulder already.

Only the knowledge that it would be beyond Travis' abilities to cover the mess of murder kept Chris from killing the bastard where he stood. Only Evans would deliberately torture an empath. Mad as hell, he knew better than to lose his temper, or lose his control.

Evans leaned over to glare at the boy, still huddled between Buck and Nathan. "Look at him," he said with disgust. "He's useless."

The moment the words were out of Evans' mouth, Chris closed the distance between them. Shoving the table aside, he lifted Evans and pushed him to a wall, then shoved him against it hard.

"The only useless thing I see is right in front of me." Chris lowered his voice, even though he felt like bellowing. He knew enough about his own anger, and the power he felt building through his limbs, drawing strength from the energy around him, that he needed to keep everything under tight control.

Evans raised a hand to his throat and clawed at Chris' fingers, but he spoke evenly. "You'll never get out of here."

"We'll leave as easily as we came."

"You can't kill me. It would raise too many questions, cause too many problems for even that traitor Travis to fix."

Unwilling to let Evans know how close to the truth he was, Chris shook him. He held out the little square of fabric that had devastated the boy. "What is this?"

"It's just a piece of cloth . . . "

"From . . ." Chris prompted.

"I don't know. It's a blind study, I'd have to consult my files."

A Southern drawl wafted from behind them. "I don't think so."

Chris glanced back over his shoulder to see Vin and a stranger looking over Evans' scattered papers. The man's words became crisper.

"It says here: 'Item number 14: Firefighter, killed 7 October, 2001 in collapse of industrial building. Cause of death -- indeterminable due to extent of injuries, likely crushing injury, burns over . . . 80% of the body, lungs filled with smoke."

Chris fought the rage that surged with renewed vigor. He viciously shook Evans again. The man's teeth rattled against each other. "You just put him through that."

Evans squirmed awkwardly in his grip. "That's ridiculous. Mr. Dunne is just giving you the reaction you expect."

"JD Dunne." Nathan moved aside and Buck stood, pulling the boy up with him. He held his arm protectively around the kid, obviously supporting him when the young empath couldn't stand on his own. "Evans told him he'd train him to join the Agency."

"And you told him what the Agency was, of course?" The stranger stepped closer to Evans, his handsome face twisted into a sneer. "Lies, deceit, nothing but pain and humiliation as you suffer through test after test, only to discover there is no Agency, no brave group of specialist training to help make the world a better place. It's all a cover for a group of demented scientist who like to play with other people's minds and emotions."

He reached to pull Evans from Chris, both hands fisted into the researcher's lapels. "I think it's about time you endured some research of our own, Dr. Evans."

Gunfire exploded suddenly, taking them all by surprise. Chris dove for cover, steeling a glance around the room first to check the location of his men. Vin's cry of pain nearly brought his head up again, but he stayed behind the cabinets and hurried along its long length to the other end.

"Peek, Sanderson, keep them here." Evans' orders snapped through the room. "Don't let them escape." Running footsteps that moved to the hall and faded into the distance reached Chris' ears. Evans was gone. That left whoever had come in without him seeing them, and the newcomers were armed. Fortunately, so were they. Despite the advantages of having these gifts, it was always wise to come prepared with normal weapons. He slid his gun free from where he'd tucked it in the back of his belt.

Pressing his shoulders against the cabinet, Chris cautiously peered around the edge. A wide space separated him from another set of cabinets and counters, with Nathan hiding behind those. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Chris gathered himself and dove, twisting through the air and aiming with deadly accuracy toward the group of men standing foolishly in the middle of the room. Instead of shooting back, they scattered, crying out and covering their heads uselessly from the deadly barrage.

He landed safely beside Nathan. Checking his ammo, Chris asked breathlessly, "You all right?"

The healer nodded. "Vin's hit."

"Where is he?"

"There, behind that stack of old machinery." Nathan pointed and Chris nodded.

"You see how bad?"

"Looked like he took it in the leg, but I'm not sure. I need to get to him, Chris."

"I'll get you there. What about Buck and the kid?"

"They ended up diving in different directions." He indicated with his head. "Buck's behind those tables there and the boy scrambled for the old machinery. He's with Vin."

"Can he help him?"

Nathan shook his head. "I don't know. He's an empath, so he should be able to, but after what Evans' has put him through tonight, I just don't know."

The air rippled weirdly and abruptly, the stranger who Vin had brought with him appeared beside them. Chris reacted instantly, grabbing the man around the throat and pulling him in against him, his gun pressed to his temple. "Where the hell did you come from? Talk fast, I'm in no mood to be patient."

Gasping, the stranger held his hands shoulder high. "I'm a -- shapeshifter. Evans held me -- against my will like the young man you -- rescued tonight. I just want -- to help."

Ignoring a sudden burst of gunfire, probably in answer to his earlier stunt, Chris squeezed tighter and felt the man arch against him. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You -- don't. But I could have -- taken you down as easily as -- offering my help."

Conceding to that truth, Chris loosened his grip. He pushed the man away and shoved him against the cabinets, holding him there with a hand on his chest. "Name."

"Ezra Standish." Hands still held up to indicate surrender, the shapeshifter wheezed breathlessly.

"All right, Ezra Standish. Let's see how helpful you can be." Chris pointed with his gun toward the other side of the room. "I've got a man down behind that stack of junk over there. The kid, the empath, is with him. You go do your Houdini act and see if they need help. We'll join you as soon as we can."

Ezra nodded and moved, but Chris didn't remove his hand. The shapeshifter stilled, pressing hard into the cabinets at his back when Chris brought his gun up to point at his chest.

"You hurt that man, or do anything to make me believe you're not with us on this, and I won't hesitate to make you disappear for good. Comprende´?"

"Completely."

"Good." Releasing him, Chris watched as the shapeshifter quickly disappeared. He shook his head. Once they got out of this, if they could convince Mr. Standish to join them, they'd add a distinct advantage to their ranks.

PART FIVE

Vin blinked, not quite sure how he'd risen through the dark pain that had sucked him under. He'd been so focused on Chris and Evans and Standish, he'd forgotten to keep his guard up. It was a stupid mistake, and had nearly cost him his life. A sudden punch in his leg that pushed him off balance enough to send him to his back registered first. He'd cried out when he'd hit the floor, more from surprise than pain. Agony hit with the unexpected power of an explosion, blasting through his body and into his head before he could acknowledge that he'd been shot.

Darkness closed around him, sliding across his vision like lake waters lapping overhead. A touch registered briefly -- ten fingers sealing around his leg and clamping off the pain before it drove him over the edge. He caught his breath, felt the air moving in and out of his lungs in frantic spurts, then gradually easing into calm. The pain was gone.

Lifting his head from the floor, Vin studied the young empath taking away his discomfort. Dark head flung back, neck arched, corded muscles standing out in vivid relief through his throat; the young man's concentration remained unbroken through the sporadic bursts of gunfire that pinged and splattered around them. As he watched, the boy drew his head forward slowly until his chin rested tucked against his chest. Long lashes shadowed his eyes, accentuating his pale face.

A line appeared between his brows and his lips rolled inward against his teeth. Vin frowned, worried with the pain he could see in the kid's face. The empath released him and fell to his side, one hand reaching down to clamp around his own leg in the same location as Vin's injury. Vin sat up, amazed that his leg felt whole. Blood still seeped from the wound, but nothing hurt.

"Vin."

He whipped his head around at Ezra, suddenly right behind him. The shapeshifter had explained his abilities when Vin had released him, but he was still shocked to finally see the man in action.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah." He gestured toward JD. "But the kid isn't. I don't think he knows how to balance things, yet. He took it all, I don't feel a thing."

Ezra shifted around to his leg. Unwinding strips of cloth he must have taken from somewhere, he deftly began wrapping Vin's wound. He glanced at the young empath. "I knew he was here, but I never saw him. Evans talked about him, bragged about what a powerful empath he was." Finished with the bandage, Ezra patted Vin's leg. "Chris and the healer you told me about -- Nathan?" Waiting for Vin's nod, Ezra shifted to the edge of their hiding place and peered around the corner. "They're makinng their way over here." He glanced back at Vin. "Do you have a gun?"

+ + + + + + +

Buck squeezed tighter into the small alcove he'd discovered. He'd hurtled over the tables when the gunfire had started, not realizing until he'd turned to look for him that JD hadn't followed. Vin's cry had stilled him from standing, and he'd hunched behind the tables, straining to look around them to see what was happening. The connection that had started the minute he'd become aware of JD hummed somewhere in the back of his mind. Normally unable to bond with an empath unless they'd trained together first, Buck wondered at the instant link that had been established between he and JD.

A wave of pain flowed through the connection. Buck groaned and grabbed his leg. Apparently, JD was trying to help Vin. "That's it, kid, you can do it." Whispering encouragement from behind his shelter, Buck relaxed and accepted whatever he could from JD. He frowned when the wave continued. He'd been trained to know when to stop. Taking away enough of a person's pain so that the person could function, and the empath was still coherent, was a careful balancing act every empath learned. Unfortunately, it didn't look as if JD had been taught that lesson yet.

Excruciating pain built in Buck's leg, then diminished as JD pulled all of it into himself. The link between them was new, untested. If he'd been training with JD he'd be able to take some of the discomfort, help bear some of the weight. But he couldn't do that without JD working on the other end, pushing Vin's pain toward him. Instead, JD had accepted all of the hurt, probably leaving Vin feeling no pain. And there was nothing Buck could do to help. Rising to his knees, he shifted to the edge of his cover and waited for a break in the gunfire.

It occurred to him that he'd been unable to totally take away a person's pain, like JD was doing now, until he'd been trained to reach beyond his normal abilities. He wondered if JD was really that powerful, or if it was something else. He and Chris had discovered, once they'd revealed their gifts to each other, that their powers were augmented when they worked together. Chris was able to summon a vision that involved Buck, when he'd been unable to do that with any of the other men they worked with at the ATF. Buck had found the ability to accept all of Chris' pain when he'd been injured, instead of just enough to keep him comfortable like he did with anyone else. And after they'd joined the Agency, they'd discovered the same magnification in Nathan and Vin; their abilities intensified when they were all together.

Maybe they'd just found someone else to add to their team.

+ + + + + + +

It was over quickly. Ezra appeared behind Peek and the others and held them at gunpoint while Chris and Nathan moved out from behind the counter. Chris nodded at Ezra, an acceptance in his eyes which Ezra took as a 'thank you' that he'd probably never hear. Buck joined them and Nathan shifted around and made his way to Vin.

Vin lay against the floor, his body held perfectly still. Recognizing the intense expression on his face, Nathan left him alone and checked JD instead. The young empath lay curled on his side, his hand clutched tightly around his leg at the same spot where Vin had been shot. Touching him lightly on the shoulder, Nathan nudged him gently.

"Son? Can you hear me?"

Receiving no response, Nathan checked his breathing and heart rate. Though higher than normal, both were steady, so he turned back to Vin.

"Evans is leaving."

Realizing what Vin was listening to, Nathan shifted closer. "Josiah?"

Vin shook his head. "Evans left out the front -- Josiah is in back."

"If we could get a message to him --"

"It's too late." Vin fell back against the floor, one hand lifted to shield his eyes. "He just drove away. He's gone."

"Damn." Disappointment shaded Nathan's voice. He slumped to the floor beside Vin.

+ + + + + + +

Chris handed Buck his phone. "Call Travis. Tell him to send an anonymous tip to the local boys in blue; they need to get out here and round up these yokels."

"Chris."

The leader leaned to look around Buck when Nathan called him.

"Vin says Evans got away. He used his hearing to follow him and heard him drive away."

A strange silence gripped the room -- failure an unwanted addition to their distress. Patting Buck on the shoulder as he walked past him, Chris muttered, "Tell TTravis," and hurried to Nathan. He indicated he'd heard Nathan's announcement and shifted to lean on one hip. "How bad is it?"

Following Chris' penetrating stare, Nathan dropped his gaze to Vin. "He's fine. The empath had already taken his pain away by the time I got here and I was able to work on him, get the healing process started."

Dropping to rest on his heels, Chris clasped the hand Vin offered and gripped his forearm before letting go and propping his arms on his thighs. "How's the boy?"

Nathan shook his head and reached to rest his hand on the young empath's dark head. He lay on his side, one hand still clutching his leg. "I can't reach him. I doubt he'll come to his senses again until Vin's leg is totally healed."

"How long will that take?"

"An hour at the most, since the bullet passed all the way through."

"Maybe I can help." Long legs navigating through his friends, Buck waded in and knelt beside the boy. He tossed the phone back to Chris.

"You left Standish with those crooks?"

Off Chris' incredulous look, Buck shrugged. "He seemed trustworthy to me."

"Buck, anyone who can disappear and reappear at will ain't to be trusted." Shoving himself to his feet, Chris turned and hurried back to Ezra.

Ignoring Chris' grumbling, Buck bent over the young empath. JD. Evans had called him Mr. Dunne, and the name 'JD' had come to him as easily as his own thoughts floating through his head. Brushing long hair back from the kid's face, Buck took in the grimacing mouth and eyes squeezed shut as if from pain. He remembered the first time he'd taken someone's pain into his own body, and the shocking agony that filled him up even though he wasn't hurt. Judging by what Evans had been putting JD through when they found him, this wasn't the first time JD had done this, but it seemed to be causing him far worse pain than it should.

Stretching out his arm, Buck covered JD's hand that gripped his leg with his own. He folded nearly double, his body sheltering JD's, and rested his other hand on the boy's head. Touch wasn't necessary, but it would help JD feel his presence even more.

The link he'd felt whispering in the back of his mind since discovering this building stirred back to life. JD's awareness, his presence, opened up in his head. Gently, Buck reached out, offering his help through the connection and showing JD what to do. With a rush that took away his breath, some of the pain transferred to him. Unprepared for the abrupt acceptance and reaction from the younger empath, Buck grunted. He dropped his hand from JD and clutched his own leg, thumping so hard to the ground that his tailbone cracked against the floor.

"Buck?"

Catching his breath, Buck glanced at Nathan before pulling his eyes back to JD. The kid moved and his eyes blinked open.

"I'm okay. Just took me by surprise is all."

Apparently satisfied, the healer turned to JD. "Son? You all right?"

"JD." Buck waited for Nathan to look at him. "His name's JD."

JD shifted to sit up, confusion knotting his eyebrows together. One hand squeezed his leg carefully, then he looked at Buck. "How'd you do that?"

"Feels better, don't it?"

"Yeah!" JD smiled, relief shoving away his confusion.

"That's what empaths do for each other." Buck stuck out one hand, his other still rubbing at his leg. "Name's Buck." He grinned as JD shook his hand with enthusiasm. "This here's Nathan, and the man who was shot that you helped is Vin."

"Thanks, JD." Rolling to his hip, Vin offered his hand and JD took it.

Nathan watched the young man carefully, looking for signs of his earlier distress. Obviously he'd recovered from whatever Evans had put him through. His eyes narrowed as his gaze traveled to Buck. Dark circles shadowed the man's eyes and he leaned to one side, favoring his left leg; the same leg Vin had wounded. JD clutched his left leg, too, but didn't seem to be affected nearly as much as Buck. Apparently Buck had accepted more than just the bullet wound into his body. Keeping his observations to himself, Nathan wondered at the protectiveness Buck was exhibiting for the young empath.

"Sirens." Vin sat up straighter, his expression folding into lines of concentration. "Police are close, we need to get out of here."

Chris joined them, Ezra right behind. He gestured over his shoulder. "They won't be going anywhere, so we're good to go." He lifted his chin toward JD then looked at Ezra. "Least we can do is drop you two off. Where can we take you, kid? Where's home?"

Squirming when all eyes turned to him, JD dropped his gaze to the floor. "Don't really have one. I met up with Dr. Evans between hotels, I guess you could say."

Buck cleared his throat in the silence that followed. "What about family? Is there someone we can contact for you?"

"No. My Mom died about half a year ago. I don't have any aunts or uncles that I know of. Both grandparents died when I was young."

"Guess you'll have to come with us, then, for now." Chris' rough tone couldn't disguise the kindness in his offer. "Ezra? How 'bout it? You need a place to stay?"

"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Larabee. I seem to be 'between hotels' at the moment, as well."

Chris frowned and pulled Vin to his feet. "It's just 'Chris', and you're welcome to join us. For awhile, at least." He waited until they were all on their feet. "Let's go home."

PART SIX

JD walked in behind Buck and the others, his steps slowing as he entered the main room of the converted warehouse. The ceiling vaulted to nearly twelve feet overhead. The spacious floor area had been filled with couches and easy chairs, all centered and turned to face an entertainment area with a TV and something that looked like a DVD player and other assorted items. A wide doorway opened up several feet beyond the living area. He leaned to look inside and found a smaller area with some of the same kind of seating, but with equipment that looked like a stereo and stacks of CDs housed in the shelves alongside. A huge aquarium stretched against one side, casting undulating reflections of blue waves across the walls. Turning back to the main room, he noticed iron steps leading up to another level.

"Bedrooms are upstairs, along with some other storage and stuff."

He turned to look at Buck. The older empath smiled widely and slapped him lightly on the arm. "Kitchen's over here and there's a room with most of our equipment just on the other side. Come on, I'll show you."

"Ah, a part of civilization I've sorely missed." Ezra gazed into the room that held the CD player and aquarium. JD watched him smile to himself, then walk inside. From the humming he heard and clacking of plastic cases, he figured the shapeshifter had a long rest period in mind, sitting and listening to music. He didn't blame him.

"JD? You coming?"

His attention centering back on Buck, JD nodded. "Sure, Buck." He followed him into the kitchen and listened as Buck explained where everything was located. Nothing stuck, he knew he wouldn't remember a thing the older man told him, but standing still with the feeling of being at home was enough for now. He'd figure out the details of where to find the saucepan when he needed it later.

After the kitchen, Buck led him into the equipment room. It held everything from weight instruments to surveillance paraphernalia, though he wondered why they'd need things like that with someone like Vin around.

Walking out of that room, Buck headed for the stairs. "It'll be nice having another empath around to train with."

JD smiled at Buck's enthusiasm. "I'm just glad we're all together here -- now."

"Same here, kid." Buck grinned and clapped him warmly on the shoulder before stepping away. "Just don't get all mushy on us." The older man grabbed the rail and started up the stairs. "Come on up and I'll show you which room will be yours."

JD smiled at Buck's retreating back. Abruptly, memories flooded into his head and he shut his eyes against the onslaught. Catching his breath when emotions joined the images flickering through his mind, he became lost in the darkness of his thoughts.

JD suppressed a shudder as he drew near the lab. Waves of emotion roiled toward him and he rode them like foam on the ocean. *Just keep calm and everything will be okay.* "Yeah, right," he mumbled quietly to himself. "And pigs fly."

Glancing up to see if anyone noticed his entrance, JD caught Daniel Peek's squinting eyes following him. *Great.* Lowering his gaze to the floor, JD reluctantly joined the group of non-empaths. Their low voices stopped and he felt the men turn to him even without looking.

"Dunne."

"Yeah?" He didn't bother to look for the speaker. He'd recognize Peek's irritating voice through a thunderstorm. The man's sneering tone haunted him in his dreams.

"Getting anything?"

"Whadaya mean?"

Peek's laugh bubbled out like sewer from a busted pipe. JD wrinkled his nose as if he could smell the stench.

"You know what I mean, freak."

Laughter followed the answer and JD stiffened. He rolled his eyes up and found himself ensnarled in Peek's stare. "Yeah, from you."

Peek's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"You're scared."

"What?" The narrowed eyes widened, then flickered back and forth as the men around him laughed quietly. "I ain't scared."

"That's funny because I'm getting a real strong feeling you are. Maybe you should find someone you trust to watch your back." His nerves, stretched taut as a guide wire, nearly snapped when Peek pushed forward and twisted his fist in the front of JD's shirt.

Nose to nose, Peek spit out his threat: "You're a damn freak, Dunne. I'm in this for the money, but you watch out, 'cause Evans won't always have us under his microscope." He turned his head to address the group. "All we need is for this weird-o here to start spoutin' lies about what he "sees" or "feels". He'll have us all so confused we won't know which butt to wipe."

"I--" JD stammered to a stop when Peek tightened his grip and shook him.

"I got my eye on you, Dunne. You're the one who's gonna need someone to watch his freakin' back. One day it'll just be you and me."

With a shove meant to send him sprawling, Peek pushed him way. JD spread his arms, keeping his balance, and managed to stay on his feet. Peek laughed, glancing at the others, inviting them to join in, then turned his shoulder and he and the others shifted into a tighter group, shutting him out. JD was left standing alone. He glanced nervously toward the two-way mirror set in one wall, knowing Evans watched from behind it and would do nothing to help him if Peek and the others suddenly turned more abusive. A heatwave of mistrust and anger swelled from the other men and bled through his weak defenses.

With a jolt that he felt through his bones, JD found himself standing in the warehouse. A refrigerator purred contentedly in the background. Muted light refracted through the large aquarium pulsated against the wide doorframe and the stately sounds of a symphony played quietly from the den where Ezra sat in darkness, recovering from his confinement. He was here with his new friends, not in some weird experiment with men he couldn't trust to turn his back on, much less watch his back in a dangerous situation.

Despair shivered through him then was gone, locked away in one of the many storage closets he kept in his mind. Ignoring the brief pull of more morose memories, he turned to climb the stairs that Buck had recently ascended, unaware of Vin watching him from the kitchen doorway, missing the expression of grief on his new friend's face.

Buck stood waiting for him in the hall.

"Thought you got lost for a minute there." He pointed to one of the doors that lined the long, wide hall. "You can have this one. There's already a bed and chest of drawers inside. We can get anything out of storage you need."

"Thanks." Opening the door, JD peered into the nearly empty room. He felt Buck beginning to move away from him and quickly shifted back from the door. "Hey, you know, I think I've heard of you and Mr. Larabee before."

"Chris, his name is Chris." Grinning to show no offence, Buck gently pushed JD into the room and pointed a stare at the bed, an unsubtle hint that the younger empath needed rest. "Oh yeah? When?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes, JD continued, "During a connection I had while I was training with Dr. Evans."

"Just Evans. Don't give him the respect of calling him by title."

"Oh." Dipping his head to hide the blush heating his face, JD finished with his shoes and scooted back on the bed.

"Sorry, kid, you don't know the history we have with that bastard."

JD pressed his spine against the bed's backboard. Crossing his arms around his legs, he swallowed hard with a sudden wave of hatred and pain that rushed at him from Buck.

"Me and Chris, we've known each other a long time. Met while working for the ATF and figured out pretty quick we both had some kind of powers that we were trying to keep secret." Buck smiled.

"How'd you find that out?"

Shaking his head, a rueful expression twisting his mouth into a grin, Buck shrugged. "He had a vision, knew I was gonna get hurt by walking into a situation we were covering, and he told me about it. I told him he was nuts."

JD sat up straighter. "Did he punch you out?"

Buck looked up, eyes crinkled with amusement. "For that? No, Chris ain't like that. He may come off like a bear, but he's a pussy cat underneath all that fur."

Tucking his chin into his chest, JD made a rude noise. "Yeah, right."

Shaking his head, Buck tapped JD on the knee and laughed. "He's not so bad once you get to know him."

"Why'd you leave the ATF?"

The grin disappeared. Buck folded his hands in his lap and studied them, keeping his eyes hidden. "His wife and son were killed."

"Oh man."

"Yeah." Lifting his head, Buck turned to look out the high window in JD's room. "We figured they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Chris had been the intended target, but we couldn't prove it."

"How'd they die?"

Broad shoulders shrugged. "Explosion."

Sensing Buck wouldn't offer more, JD shifted on the bed and stretched his legs out behind Buck, giving the man time to tell the story when he was ready.

"Wasn't long after that the Agency approached us, and I convinced Chris to join up. He didn't want to; I think he did it just to get me off his back."

Knowing layers of history were hidden in those few words, JD remained silent.

"That's where we met Vin, found out his senses were augmented, and he could control them. Nathan was there, too. You already know what he can do." Lifting his head, Buck grinned softly at JD.

"Yeah. I was lucky he was there today."

"Josiah would say luck don't have nothing to do with it."

"What's Josiah do?"

"Strength. I've seen him lift a thousand-pound block of cement to free someone trapped beneath." Tiling his head back, Buck stared at the ceiling, his voice growing soft as he remembered things JD couldn't see. "He can sense things, too, almost like he can figure out if a person's good or bad."

"Why didn't he sense anything about Evans?"

"Huh?" As if suddenly remembering where he was, Buck blinked at JD, then shook his head. "He wasn't in the Agency. He was a friend of Nathan's and didn't join us 'til later, after we got out."

"Hey, how *did* you get out?"

A corner of Buck's mouth twitched in a grin. "One of the researchers, Orrin Travis, got us out. He realized the Agency had a hidden agenda, and that we were in danger. He found a way, and we got out."

"So, Chris is psychic --"

"And he can control the elements around him, draw on energy and defy gravity."

"Cool!"

"Vin's senses are heightened, Josiah has strength, Nathan's a healer, and I'm an empath, plus I can mind-read a little."

"Now you've got Ezra, the shapeshifter, and me, another empath."

"Yep. And they all lived happily ever after." Laughing at JD's look of disgust, Buck stood up and patted him on the knee. "End of story, Junior, time for you to get some rest."

JD shifted on the bed, stretching out and running his legs over the warm spot where Buck had sat. "Hey, who's Sarah and Adam?"

Nearly to the door, Buck froze. JD watched as he turned with a strange expression on his face. Apparently, the names meant something to him. When Buck didn't answer, JD cleared his throat and continued.

"When I heard your names, through that connection I told you about, I got this huge headache." He touched his temple. "And grief -- like someone mourning and hurting so bad inside."

Buck walked back to the bed and stood quietly, listening.

"Evans had me in a room full of patients, people with -- mental problems and cancer cases; he wanted me to connect with one of them and help them, but I couldn't." For an instant, the panic and anguish that had nearly overwhelmed him in that room rushed back and sent a sharp spike of agony through his head. Grimacing, JD lay back against the bed and closed his eyes. "Instead, I reached through them and connected with someone else. I heard your names through that link, and Sarah and Adam."

Buck's warm hand touched him, spread against his face. "Let it go, JD."

The distant hum through his head flared back to life and the feeling of connection, of knowing Buck and being with him, flowed through him again. His memories, his joy, his pain, spread through the link, lessening the burden on his heart. With a soft sigh, he settled toward sleep. He didn't hear the door close when Buck left.

+ + + + + + +

Vin stretched out his legs, propping his heels on a cushion.

Sitting near him, Chris asked, "How's the leg?"

Smiling and lightly patting his thigh, he answered, "Good as new."

"We're fortunate to have Nathan on our team."

"Yep. And Ezra and JD." Seeing Chris' look of wary disagreement, Vin dropped his feet to the floor and twisted to face him. "You gotta admit a shapeshifter would be a huge asset, Chris."

"Maybe."

"No maybe about it." Knowing he'd won the argument, Vin settled back, spreading his arms along the back of the couch. "And having another empath helps, too. Now Buck has someone he can train with."

"He may be more powerful than you think."

Both men turned to watch Buck as he jogged down the stairs and joined them.

"Why do you say that?" Sitting straighter, Chris waited for Buck to sit down.

"I just found out what happened to your headache this morning."

"JD?"

Buck nodded.

"How?"

Shrugging, Buck shook his head. "I'm not sure. Evans was doing some kind of experiment on him, testing him in a room full of mental patients."

"Up to his usual tricks." Vin's rueful comment drew grimaces from both men.

"JD told me he managed to reach beyond that room and connect with someone else. Said he suddenly got a bad headache."

"So?" Chris leaned away and propped his elbow on the armrest. "That could have been anyone, Buck. You're reaching with this one. I know you like the kid, but I think he's just a average emapth."

Glancing at Vin, Buck turned to Chris. He moved closer, his voice low. "He heard something else that night. He asked me who Sarah and Adam were."

Silence gripped them, held them frozen. No one spoke. Finally, Chris moved. He shifted forward to the edge of his chair and locked his hands together in a tight fist between his knees.

"I was -- I dreamed of Sarah that night." Tight emotion strained his voice. With a deep sigh, tension seemed to abruptly release him,, and he smiled at Buck.

"Looks like we've got some new members to the team."

END
Contnues in Team Magna 2: Exposed