The Standard Disclaimer: Characters belong to Mirisch/Trilogy Productions/CBS etc. I make no claims upon them. I'm not making any money off this, so please don't sue.
Date of Creation: July 20, 2002
Rating: PG-13 (Violence)
Warning: Contains Wiccan elements. Anybody who is offended shouldn't read this story.
Author's note: This is my first Mag-7 fanfic. I'm not really a fan of the Magnificent Seven. In fact, I've never seen any of the movies, nor seen the TV series (something I plan to rectify this weekend). What I know is strictly from fanfic. And I only discovered it through a The Sentinel/Magnificent Seven ATF AU cross-over, Refuge by Cindy Combs. Hopefully, I've gained enough knowledge of the characters and situations to do a decent job. If not, well, I guess I go back to The Sentinel stories I'm writing. Not like there's not enough of them, it's just that this big, mutant plot bunny (think Bugs Bunny after he drank the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde formula) hit me upside the head this morning, and forced me at carrot-point to write this story
Also note: This story contains general Wiccan/Pagan theory and information. It is not intended to accurately represent or portray any one particular tradition or pantheon.
This is set in the ATF AU, and thanks to Mog for creating it.
This story hasn't been beta-read (don't know anybody to do it), so any mistakes you can blame squarely on me.
The universe is made up of energy. Objects break down into components, which dissolve into molecules, which in turn are made up of atoms, which are... well, you get the idea. However, all of this is only an abstraction. For, to the everyday perception of solid beings, things are solid.
Occasionally, however, a solid being may perceive things in the form in which they truly exist. And, occasionally, such beings may have the talent, and learn the skill, to manipulate the energy of which the universe is composed; for the energy of the universe is pliable, and if one has the talent and skill and will, one may force the energy of the universe to conform to one's will. The energy, and the ability to manipulate it, has and is known as magic and psionics.
At some point in human history, it was discovered that cats are attracted to magical and psychic energy - both "light" and "dark" (unlike dogs, who are only attracted to "light" or "good" magic). Wiccans - be they users of "black", "grey" or "white" magic - have for centuries used cats to "store" and "focus" such energy (otherwise known as "familiars"). And the cats are happy enough to oblige - as long as the user cared for the animal and treated it well.
Then came what the Wiccans call "The Burning Times", when they were persecuted and killed.
Fortunately, some such individuals escaped and thrived. And, as time passed and attitudes changed, most simply forgot about such individuals, and, indeed, convinced themselves that manipulation of the energy of the universe (magic spells) was impossible.
Even more fortunately, not all of the individuals capable of such things forgot how to do it. And some of them are cats.
The small orange and white tabby cat entered the parking garage the same as every morning, by simply walking past the gatehouse and under the barrier. The guard not only didn't stop him, but waved a greeting. Security Guard Sam Donner had been on the morning shift here for fifteen years, and, as Cuervo the cat marched past, tail held high, a thought occurred to Sam that hadn't before. What would happen to Cuervo if someone other than Sam pulled duty at the gatehouse in the morning?
"Gonna have to get you a keycard." Sam fondly muttered at the cat. Neither knowing, nor caring, about such things, Cuervo simply ignored the man. Besides, he wasn't who Cuervo was there to see.
As he did every morning, Cuervo headed straight for the corner of the parking structure that was unofficially staked out by The-Seven-Who-Have-Attractive-Energy-And-Treat-Cuervo-Well. "The Seven" is how Cuervo thought of them. There was "Healer", who'd once bandaged an injury and who's smell permeated the beige and brown Ford Explorer. Healer's energy was a soft gold with a tinge of a stronger, harder, Warrior Blue. And then there was "Quiet Hunter", who was the most reliable food-catcher, although the beat-up blue Jeep was no sign of the prosperity one would generally believe of a great hunter. His energy was mostly held tightly about his body, and tinged with a bit of sickly brown, but the blue was coming out more as Hunter continued his association with "Stern Leader". Stern Leader was the human in the Black Dodge and the nice-smelling coat. Stern Leader's energy contained a lot of angry red, and even more of the brown of sickness than Hunter, but it was slowly healing, too. Partly because of Hunter, but also partly because of "Boisterous", the man in the beat-up Chevy truck. Boisterous's energy was a pretty blue with gold edging. It was strong and good. And, of course, where Boisterous went, "Young-and-Enthusiastic" usually followed. And as Hunter's and Stern's energies were entwined, so was Boisterous's and Enthusiastic's. And, to a lesser extent, Stern's and Boisterous's energy intermingled, too, so that all four men's energies were a part of each other's.
And Healer's energy was intertwined, though to a lesser extent, with that of "Wise Oak", the large man who was also a good hunter, and who also provided Cuervo with food in exchange for Protection. And Wise's higher-ranked blue-white energy was also wrapped up with the shifting brown, gold, Envy green, and blue of Hidden Warmth's. And Hidden Warmth's energy also mixed with Hunter's, so that all Seven men's energy was bound up with each other's.Hidden Warmth had obviously been hurt many times before, hence the brown and green of his energy. In fact, Cuervo had noted that most of them had brown energy. Fortunately, the energies of all of them seemed to mix and mingle with the energy's of the others in a way which seemed to be healing all of them. Slowly, but, Cuervo was pleased to note, it was happening.
And all of their energies were strong, and good, and Cuervo was pleased to use it with great efficiency to Protect them all. And boy, did they need Protection! It seemed that, in addition to the soul-sickness they suffered, they also ended up with a lot of physical injuries, too. But, since Cuervo had noticed the smell of People-Who-Like-to-Hurt-Others on them so much, he'd decided that they needed all the Protection they could get. Energy like that of The Seven was hard to find, and Cuervo was pleased to Protect it. The fact that they rewarded his efforts by hunting for him and by providing head scratchies only sealed the bargain.
The screeching of tires and sounds of gunfire jerked Cuervo rudely out of the nice nap he'd been partaking of on the cooling hood of the sleek, black Jaguar. Cuervo screeched in response and dove under the Jag to hide.
The large, black van lurched to a stop. Eight men dressed in black and smelling of Likes-to-Hurt-Others Energy were disgorged from the van. They marched towards the Moving Box just as the Box opened to release The Seven.
Cuervo was afraid. The Seven were in danger from Likes-to-Hurt-Others! That couldn't happen! He'd vowed to Protect them, and he wouldn't go back on that as long as they hunted for him and treated him well! Cuervo peeked out from underneath the black Jag, just enough to get good line-of-sight on the Seven. Then he concentrated, using his own white-blue energy to gently pick out strands of mixed Seven energy, and used it to create an additional bubble of Protection around the Seven. There! That should do it!
As the elevator door began to slide open, Vin Tanner sensed something badly wrong.
"Down!" He yelled. The others, being smart enough to: A. trust Vin's hunch and B. not stand around asking stupid questions, immediately hit the deck.
Gunfire echoed painfully loudly throughout the parking structure.
Somehow, even though the eight men in black armed with automatic rifles fired in a wide spray, hosing down everything at all levels, none of the Seven were hit.
Even though they'd only been going to lunch, all the Seven were armed. It was a lesson previously learned through bitter experience.
Vin and Chris were the first to draw and fire - Chris more quickly, but Vin more accurately. Between them, they took down three of the shooters before Ezra, Buck, and Nathan managed to get their guns out and firing.
The remaining shooters had by this time dived behind various vehicles - including their own van - and were now firing unimpeded into the dangerously exposed elevator. Realizing this, JD pulled his own gun and fired - into the ceiling of the elevator, taking out the lights. The metal box went dark.
Unfortunately, that didn't deter the gunmen for long. Within seconds, they'd begun firing into the elevator again, at all heights and sides, spraying bullets like water from a hose.
Buck took a bullet through the fleshy part of his left thigh, and Josiah, being the biggest target, ended up with one hit in each arm. JD took a graze to the top of his head. Miraculously, however, there were no life-threatening injuries. Unfortunately, that circumstance wouldn't last for long.
Cuervo could see the precariousness of the situation, too, and pondered, for a second, what to do. Then, he had it.
Using more of the Seven's energy than he would have liked - especially with three of them injured - Cuervo took the easy way out.
All the Likes-to-Hurt-Others guns suddenly jammed.
It was all the Seven needed. As the gunmen tried to flee, Chris, Vin, Ezra, and Nathan all but launched themselves out of the elevator to take the shooters down. Within moments it was all over but the shouting. And the statements.
Hours later, the Seven wearily dragged themselves out of the hospital.
"God, I'm tired!" JD noted. The others agreed. In fact, it was a little strange just how tired they all were. But they were too tired to wonder about it.
"Chris, are you gonna be able to make it all the way out to the ranch?" Buck asked, concerned that Chris might fall asleep at the wheel. Chris started to protest, to say that he was fine, but realized that he really might be too tired. He couldn't, in good conscience, endanger other drivers.
"You could stay with us at the CDC." Buck pronounced, not even bothering to consult with his room-mate, JD. He didn't have to. He knew JD would agree. But Chris shook his head, offering up a weak smile.
"Sorry, but I haven't been vaccinated, and I'm too tired to go back into the hospital for it." As Vin snickered, Ezra jumped in.
"You may, if you wish, repose at my humble abode, Mr. Larabee." Ezra said quietly.
Silence fell among the other six men.
"Repent, Brothers," Josiah pronounced solemnly. "For I believe the end of the world is nigh. Brother Ezra, did we hear you right? Did you just offer to put Brother Chris up for the night?"
Ezra hesitated for one second. He'd always been the loner, afraid of being hurt yet again. And yet, these men were his friends. Far closer friends than he'd ever had in his life. They'd slowly, gently, drawn him to them; made themselves his family. Ezra figured it was time to begin being a part of the family, instead of apart from them. He simply nodded in answer to Josiah's question, not quite trusting himself to speak.
Chris stared measuringly at Ezra for a second, then gratefully accepted the southerner's invitation.
The next morning, Cuervo strode cautiously into the parking garage. There was a new man at the gatehouse, and Cuervo could sense the Death that still lingered there. He knew Early Riser was gone. Cuervo was sad, but knew that Early Riser had merely ended one phase of existence and started another. The cat would break in a new gate guard, now.
It was with some trepidation that Cuervo approached the corner of the parking structure that was second home to the Seven's vehicles. He knew four of them were ok, but what of the other three? Were they alright?
He was earlier than usual, so he crouched down beside a massive cement support post and waited, so still he might have been a statue were it not for the occasional impatient flick of his tail-tip.
One by one, all the vehicles arrived, and parked in their usual spaces. The battered Jeep, the motorcycle and the beat-up Chevy truck, and on down the list to the Black Jag, which, amazingly, arrived with the Black Dodge truck.
"The end of the world is nigh, Josiah." Nathan said, stunned. "Ezra's actually showed up early!"
Ezra sniffed haughtily. "I am only heah this early as a result of our esteemed leaders efforts. Please rest assured, it will not be occurring on a regulah basis."
"Won't happen again, eh, Ez?" JD chuckled.
"Good " Buck retorted. "I don't think my heart can take it."
"Ah did not come heah to be insulted. Especially not at this godforsaken hour of the mohnin..."
And as the door to the Moving Box closed on The Seven, Cuervo sighed, content. The Protection had worked. The Seven were safe again. This time.
The End
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