Disclaimer: Don't own them, never will.
Note: Started this story right before the July challenge was issued but it eerily fit. Keep reading it's not as bad as it sounds and hey I never damage beyond repair. One sentence does get a little graphic in its description.
Warnings: This story turned out longer than I planned, as usual. It hasn't been beta read, so consider yourself warned there will be mistakes in it.
Waiting in the emergency room should have been old hat by now for the six men in it but it wasn't. Though, the wall color never changed and the chairs still had the same rose-colored material covering the thin foam that was to mistaken for cushions every time they were forced to wait in this room it felt like the first.
Vin paced, Josiah prayed, Nathan thought about what he could have done differently or better, Buck pretended to sleep, JD flipped restlessly through magazines and the seething leader rhythmically hit his fist against the palm of the other hand, seeing the face of the malfeasant who bought them to this place.
They had been here for over three hours, the only word they were receiving periodically from the surgical nurse was that their brother was holding his own and the doctors were still working on him.
Chris thought back to the incident that had bought them here. The job was a no different from any of the others. A self-described 'made man' wanted to expand his territory, Ezra was playing the role as the man who would supply the weapons needed to do that. The buy was made, the go word given, the team leader and his men moved in, then all things went up in smoke, literally.
The said made man's bodyguard didn't intend to see his boss's, Mr. Cole's, career put on hold by a jaunt to the local federal prison. Upon the entry of the ATF and its countless backup members Mr. Franklin grabbed one of the many grenades at hand in an attempt to expedite his release, pulled the firing mechanism and threw it.
Chris' mind freeze-framed on that singular incident. Ezra, still playing his part, had been running towards the gunrunner, no doubt attempting to get Mr. Cole and himself out of the building alive. When the grenade exploded it had been rolling towards the agent's feet, seeing what was about to occur the agent only had time to start to twist away and throw his hands up to cover his eyes.
A shudder rippled through the black clad leader. The noise level in that warehouse increased expedientially. He figured he would never get Ezra's screams to stop ringing in his ears. His friend had fallen to the ground, writhing in searing pain. The sound emanating from the agent imitated those of a prey being torn apart by its predator. All activities ceased at that very moment. Criminals paused; captors handcuffed without thinking, all eyes were riveted to the well-dressed man jerking on the hard cement floor.
Nathan and Josiah dropped their captives leaving them for the backups to finish arresting, descending on their fallen comrade like a mother to a crying child. Vin, who had been up in the rafters flew to the staircase and grabbing on to the rails, held up his feet and slid down the banisters, landing at the bottom in record time. Buck and JD, who had been at the far end leaped and bounded over the numerous crates of weapons and ran like they had never ran before towards the undercover agent. Chris himself, dropped his captive unceremoniously to the floor with a body jarring thud and took off at a dead run, fearing the worst.
The black clad man unconsciously began hitting his fist against his palm harder as he remembered the next never-ending moments. Nathan and Josiah had reached Ezra first by about two seconds before being joined by the others. Josiah had instinctively kneeled down at the brown covered head, grabbing the arms, he desperately tried to still the rocking man. The older member changed tactics and tried holding the man's head as Nathan latched on to the seared arms as carefully as possible and pulled the hands away from the eyes, fearing the two burned flesh would melt together.
It took all of them to immobilize the body and then Ezra wasn't completely still or silent. Nathan had begun screaming orders, to be heard over the other man's screams, at the other law enforcers, mostly for water. Not knowing how badly Ezra had been burned the need to pour water over his burnt skin was imperative.
Chris had helped the medic strip the injured man of his clothes, knowing that fabric only trapped and held heat, which would cause more damage. Bottled water began appearing in a steady stream and just as quickly poured over the damaged skin. The aero care helicopter appeared and the medics took over, quickly whisking the wounded friend away and leaving six men gasping for air and fearing the worst.
Buck didn't need to open his eyes to know what his best friend was doing. They all knew Chris was berating himself for this latest infliction upon his agent. The fist-to-palm movements told them that although Mr. Cole might have escaped from them today Chris, along with their help, would track the man down and get a little retribution of his own before hauling his sorry person down to the jail.
The need to take the edge off of their leader's growing anger was becoming apparent. Buck finally opened his tired eyes and looked over to the pacing sharpshooter. Vin felt the older man studying his back and turned towards the dark haired man. Without words they came to the conclusion of who was best to deal with the man in black before the emergency room finally got revamped at the singular man's expense.
Walking over to his friend he placed a hand gingerly on the tight shoulder, "He'll be ok you know? This is Ezra we're talking about, somehow he'll work this around to his advantage and the agency will not only be replacing his suit but furnishing him with any other lost or needed articles he deems fit to charge them for."
Chris smirked in spite of himself. That sounded just like the wily agent, always scheming for better improvements in his lifestyle. "He sure better be or I'm going to ring his neck until those scheming little green eyes of his changes color."
Though everyone chuckled lightly no one really felt any better and the room returned to its somber atmosphere. The other visitors in the waiting room kept away from the group and cast hesitant looks at one another. Even not knowing these men they could tell if they received bad news it didn't look good for any of them.
The surgical doctor headed for the metal doors, removing the green cap and running weary hands through the graying hair. Not so long ago he had not had one single silver hair, then team seven was put together and the black hair slowly started to disappear. It had been three years since his first introduction to these men and though they were now on a first name basis breaking the news never got any easier. He knew each one's reaction, knew what to expect but those first couple of seconds still made him feel like a first year resident telling family members bad news.
Nathan was the first one out of his chair as Dr. Yates came through the door. The poor medic was almost thrown to the floor as the rest of the team stampeded towards the messenger.
Seeing the hard glint in the green eyes that stared at him, Dr. Yates had to raise his hand up in a yielding motion as he swallowed and began to relate the details. "Mr. Standish is now in recovery. You know the drill — as soon as he is moved to ICU in the burn unit you can take up your posts." This Dr. had learned early on that it was far easier to allow this group to stay in the room than to fight it like some of the doctors did.
Seeing the patience wearing thin he started with the injuries. "We were lucky in the fact that when the grenade exploded Mr. Standish did not actually catch on fire. He did however sustain some major flash burns. Mostly on his arms, hands and face."
"Then what took so long?" Buck demanded.
"We had to medicate and wrap most of his upper body. We also, had to call in a ophthalmologist for his eyes." Dr. Yates explained professionally.
Looking to the leader he asked, "Did he have a thin or light shirt on?" Upon seeing the slight nod he stated, "That would explain the minor burns to his torso."
"How bad?" was the only question asked by the tall blond.
"The chest will heal with no problems." Dr. Yates answered knowing that wasn't the information the leader was asking for but stalling for a little time so they could adjust to the coming news.
Noting the ever so small nod he continued, "The arms have a good chance of healing without scarring if they're kept medicated and flexed," knowing full well the men before him would see that this was done with or without the agent's cooperation.
Swallowing, the relatively middle aged doctor finished the list of harm, "The hands and the eyes are of the most concern right now. It appears they took the brunt of the explosion."
Dr. Yates stopped and let this information seep in and settle. Seeing the horrified look on the youngest one's face and the hardened clenched jaws on the blond he knew his news had been transcribed into knowledge they needed to know.
"What are his chances?" Chris asked bluntly. He knew Ezra would want to know the house odds so he could put in the bare minimum of effort and still come out winner.
"The hands could easily scar and if they do the scar tissue could impede their flexibility. As for the eyes, for some reason the right one has more damage than the left. It's hard to tell how bad right now because they are both burned. It will be a couple weeks for the swelling to start going down and the healing to begin, then we will be able to discern the amount of damage done."
Chris merely nodded and took a step forward. Dr. Yates had dealt with them many times before, the discussion was over, he had been dismissed and he moved aside. The blond had learned what he needed to know and now it was time for him to be with the fallen. It was move aside or get run over.
They had been warned what to expect and seen it in countless movies but still when they had walked into that small room and seen their friend the sight they beheld was daunting. Ezra lay flat on the bed, the numerous tubes that were inserted into his body were not of concern they had seen these before and understood their usefulness. It was the man, himself, that held them like statues.
A sheet and thin blanket had been pulled up to his waist. His torso was covered in a greasy medication, his arms from his shoulders down to the wrists were swathed in white netting-like material, the wrists and each finger were wrapped thickly in gauze. His normally white complexion had a nasty sunburned look to it. Only the lower half of his face was showing, his eyes were covered by patches, protecting them, held in place by more of the same white gauze. The overall effect made one think of a mummy about to be entombed.
Vin stared at the prone figure, heavily sleeping with the help of strong medication, and in the very back of his thought this would be a pretty good gag if Ezra were conning them. But, he knew it was no gag and though they had always found some way to laugh or make light of previous injuries the sharpshooter knew no one would be laughing for some time to come.
The same heaviness that had filled the waiting room now settled into the small room as the six men found places sit, some having to resort to using the floor. There had been times in the past when one of them had been hurt far more critically than this but for the first time since coming together there was a real possibility that one of them would not be returning to work, the thought frightened the men. Without all seven what would happen to them, how would they work as a unit? The questions were endless.
The medical staff had been given plenty of warning without needing to be. They had all heard the stories of this unique group of men but until today had been happily blessed with never having to encounter them much less put up with them. When word came that they would finally be having these men on their floor it was met with a lot of trepidation. Their floor had special rules and necessities. Most patients had to be isolated to keep down infection, rooms were sealed and the walls had extra insulation.
How would these men handle the weaknesses of other people? Their patients cried and screamed in agony at times. Would they be able to handle it when their own man broke under the strain of having burnt skin massaged and medicated? Would the fierce black clad leader be able to contain his rage or his disappointment when the agent in the bed begged for release or would one of the hospital staff suffer the consequences? There were so many questions they did not want to find the answer to.
A full twenty-four hours had passed and the nursing staff was breathing a little easier. It appeared that the men were not completely unreasonable, they never said a word when other patients down the hall let their pain be known. The six never made any of the demands they were so well known for on other floors, it was reassuring to learn that these men did understand that this floor was special and they treated it as such.
The six men sat around in different positions, a couple had chairs, some sat on the floor and at least one was standing by the bed at all times. Talking to the unconscious agent, patting a leg, smoothing down his hair anything they thought would be comforting and always watching the heart monitor for the first signs that he was waking up.
JD, though never leaving the room had yet to stand by the bed and talk to his friend. The sight was just too much for him and the knowledge of how much pain Ezra would be in burdened his shoulders greatly.
Buck was the first to notice the change in heart rate and quickly moved to the head of the bed, the action bringing the others with him. The term "all hands on deck" was taken seriously where this particular agent was involved. They all were known by the staff for something, Ezra and Vin were both known for their detestment of hospitals, but what Ezra was really know for was his escapes and his panic attacks when he first woke. Considering what bought him here the six were expecting a whopper of an attack and thusly prepared for it.
Due to the large amount pain killer still in his body the pain he felt was no worse than he had felt before. The first thing his mind registered was that it was dark as it rose out of the muggy fog his brain had been wallowing in for the past several hours. He couldn't figure out why it would be so completely dark. The room at the ranch, his own bedroom at home, even the hospital where he found himself to be at regular intervals were never this completely dark, there was always some type of light seeping in. He knew his eyes were opened so, why was it so dark? Panic slowly crept into his heart as his muddled brain tried to figure out the endless possibilities and built to a rising crescendo. Never once hearing the calming voices outside his head or the comforting hands laid upon the uninjured parts body.
He sat up with force of thrusters behind him screaming for the one person who would lead him out of this apparent hole he found himself in. "Chris!"
The blond leader had already placed himself at the head of the bed ready for Ezra's panic but was unprepared for the sudden movement and the throat ripping shriek of his friend. Temporarily forgetting the bandaged eyes and reddened cheeks he clasp onto the side of Ezra's face as he always did, suddenly realizing how he had always taken their eye contact for granted. He had always used his eyes to show his emotions, to impart the safety of his presence. That would no longer work; words and actions were the only things he could use now.
Ezra couldn't see the person who held his face in their hands but knew intuitively who the person would be. Those hands held so much roughness and yet they also held strength and peace. The adrenaline of fear buried the pain those hands might have otherwise caused against his skin.
Usually the dark did not bother him but then again it was usually his choice to be in the dark. Being thrust into the sightless world without his consent reminded him of times in is childhood where his control was yanked away from him. But deep inside he knew he could believe that this person would help him in gaining light as he repeatedly asked for the one thing he desperately craved.
The hard shelled undercover agent had not begged for anything since he was a small child but this darkness had him doing it now, "Get me out. Please!"
Chris pulled the younger man to his chest and began rocking slowly back and forth listening to the man pleading the request repeatedly, answering the only way he knew how, "I will Ezra. I will."
Nathan had stepped around his leader and pushed the button on the medication pump sending his friend back into oblivion. Even after he felt the younger man relax against him and knew he was asleep Chris continued to rock his friend reiterating his promise.
The next two times the injured agent woke produced the same results. Always pleading to be 'let out' of whatever hole he felt entrapped in. The black clad leader, who most people only knew as having rough exterior of, took his place on the side of the bed and promised reassurances of release from the dark confines. The other five, never ones to just stand back and watch, offered their own support.
It was in the wee hours of the third day when once again the monitor began registering consciousness. Vin was by the man's side instantly, hoping he could handle his friend and let the other slumbering men continue to rest.
Smoothing the hair repeatedly he began talking in a low soft voice. "Easy Ez. I'm right here. Keep your eyes closed for me. OK?"
Vin figured maybe if Ezra didn't think about trying open his eyes to begin with he wouldn't realize he couldn't anyway and the darkness would seem more natural. "Listen to me Ez." Waiting a heartbeat, "You listening to me, pard? Keep those eyes closed for now."
Ezra didn't know why he followed the simple request without questioning it. It just seemed natural to follow Vin's orders. Receiving the barest of nods the sharpshooter picked up the plastic cup of water and placed the straw near his friend's mouth as he continued to talk in low voice, "You thirsty?"
Receiving another nod Vin placed the straw on Ezra's lips, when they parted he guided the straw partially in. "Not to much. Your stomach may not be ready for it."
Ezra didn't get to drink his fill before the straw was pulled back. He licked his lips nervously before asking the question that had bothered him since he had come to, "Vin?"
"Yeah Ez?" Vin leaned closer to hear the strained voice.
"Why did Mr. Larabee see fit to allow them to restrain me?" Ezra asked quietly but with just enough hurt and accusation to be heard.
Vin looked up the others who by now had joined him around the bed before answering haltingly, "You ain't tied down Ez."
"Well I can't seem to move my arms." The patient answered angrily, his voice rising with more strength.
Nathan laid a hand on the dark brown hair and unconsciously began to rake his fingers through it. "Ezra."
The medic waited until the head turned towards him. "We got to talk and I need you listen very carefully, OK?"
"I'm paralyzed, right." Ezra stated matter-of-factly. Inside he was screaming in denial, 'No! Not this!'. He couldn't do his job if he was paralyzed. His mind whirled with anxiety and his thoughts began spiraling downhill.
Nathan couldn't see the man's eyes but after three years of working with his friend he instinctively knew what the other man was thinking.
"No, Ezra, you're not paralyzed. Not going to be either. But you do need to know you were hurt pretty bad."
The medic was watching for signs of distress and would have missed them if he hadn't learned the few telltale signs Ezra gave when in trouble. Reaching over the head of the bed he turned up the oxygen and calmly began to explain what had happened.
Chris and the others were expecting a wide range of reactions from nothing to panic to an outright tongue-lashing.
Ezra, having the consummate blank face, showed none of the feelings that were raging inside. Finally he asked, "So, what you're saying is I'll never use my hands or be able to see again."
"No. That's not what I said," the frustration coming through in Nathan's voice. "I said it would be while before you regained the use of them."
"And what might I ask is to happen to me if you are wrong in your assumption?" Ezra asked with a bit of defiance in his voice.
"Ezra, you're burning bridges that aren't even there." Running his hand through his hair he looked to the others for some kind of support.
Chris switched places with Vin and lowered himself so his face was even with the man in the bed, "Listen to me Ez. Nathan said you're going to fine and that's that. So don't go making trouble where there isn't any. You got me."
Ezra understood the message loud and clear. Nathan said everything was going to be ok and the medic never lied. The undercover agent nodded once and became still. Biting the inside of his cheek he was trying very hard to control the overwhelming urge to go into a screaming panic. The six men standing around the bed wasn't fooled. They watched the clenched teeth and the minuscule tremors jerking through their friend and knew he was fighting the urge to panic with everything he had.
Josiah patted a knee and spoke in his calm deep voice, "Don't you worry son. You aren't alone."
The fact that he didn't get even a slight rise out of the prone man for using the term son spoke volumes. It was going to take every bit of strength and willpower Ezra had to get through this without losing his mind or causing bloodshed.
Buck watched through the corner of eye as JD left the room. Ever since they arrived here the youngest member hadn't been acting normal. Any other time the energetic young man would have been right in there comforting his friend and reassuring him that all would be ok. But, the young agent had barely spoken and seemed reluctant to take his turn at the bedside. No one had pushed, knowing everyone had their limits on what they could deal with and this seemed to be JD's. They would wait for him to come around, and then if he didn't someone would help him see the error of his ways.
Chris saw the small cheek rise in what would have been a grimace if fully acted out and reached over and hit the pain medication button. Ezra had enough to deal with; he didn't need to be in pain unnecessarily.
Ezra's withdrawal continued each time he woke. Speaking only when necessary. His mind was to busy going down dark scenarios that never ended well. Without his eyes how could he tell when people were lying to him? How was he supposed to read people's real intentions or know when someone was trying to con him? It was moments like this that he would have taken out his cards and fell into the soothing rhythm of their shuffle. Now he couldn't do that. He was completely stranded and nowhere to turn.
Since he was more alert the doctor decided it was time for the man to start taking the road to getting out of the hospital and that meant eating.
Watching the food service guy bring in the tray Buck stood up and positioned the food dolly near the bed, "Lunch is here, Ez."
Not being in the finest of moods the man snapped back, "Oh joy and how do these neanderthals believe I am to eat. Put my face in the plate and consume it like a mongrel dog?"
The tall dark haired man took in a deep breath, "Well I reckon they believe that you're friends would be able to assist you."
Not receiving a reply Buck removed the lid and began listing the foods available, "Well, let's see here. Looks like some kind of lasagna, a salad, garlic toast and for desert peach cobbler."
Taking the silverware form its plastic wrap he forked a small bite. "Looks pretty good, Ez," placing the fork to his friend's lips and waited for Ezra to decide whether to eat or not.
They were all independent men. Most had been looking out for themselves for more years than they could remember. Secretly they knew they, too, would have a difficult time if that independence was ripped away from them and they were forced to accept complete help from anyone else, even if it was their best friends. For this reason they were willing to cut the southerner a lot of slack. Of all of them Ezra was the one who accepted help the least easily.
The meal was eaten without any further comments from the injured man. He was defenseless and the thought ate at him like a ravaging virus. He could do nothing for himself. This thought slowly sunk in to the place where he had tried valiantly from going. From now on he was unequivocally dependent on these six men and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He wasn't about to hire someone he didn't know and furthermore didn't trust to take care of him. He was stuck so he figured the best thing to do was suck it up and take whatever was given.
The six men didn't like the sudden switch in behavior. Whereas for past four days the man was either silent and withdrawn or angry and surly he now appeared to be his old self without the acerbic feedback. Ezra for all intense and purposes was being too nice and well mannered. They knew from experience that wasn't going to be able to last long without something giving.
The pain medication doses had been lowered as the man's consciousness rose. Ezra could now feel the fiery pain in his hands and eyes that had been kept masked. The biting of the inside of his cheeks had become so intense that he felt like they were raw meat. Listening for any sounds in the room and not hearing any he leaned over the bed and hoping there was a trash can in the correct spot spit out the blood that had been pooling inside his mouth.
His assumptions of being alone were immediately proven wrong when a very loud and not very happy Chris approached the bed. "Dang it Ezra!"
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know where the blood had come from. They were all guilty of doing the same thing. "There's no need for that. There's a prescription for pain medication right out there at the nurse's desk. All you have to do is let us know you need it."
Feeling stupid for getting caught and properly chastised by a man who had done the very same thing on more that one occasion Ezra wanted to tell the blond exactly what he could do with that prescription. But, the voice reminded him under the circumstances it wouldn't be a good idea to tick him off right now. Ezra bit his tongue and nodded in ascension. The blond leader observed this tactic sighed inwardly and silently chastised himself for berating his friend like he did. Recovery was going to be a trying ordeal for all of them.
The next day Dr. Yates came in to inform the patient and his friends that he could go home. Ezra almost popped off at that statement but bit his tongue instead, which was becoming as sore as the insides of his cheeks. Chris issued the standard orders, by now after doing this so many times before everyone knew what they're assignment was but the leader in him still issued them anyway.
Nathan went to fill the prescriptions while Josiah filled out the release forms and received the unnecessary instructions, they could have filled a five gallon trash sack by now with all the instructions they had received in the past. Buck and JD headed for the ranch to make sure everything was ready for the arrival of the injured. But, this time there was a small switch in plans; normally Chris would go pull the truck around to the loading area while Vin waited with Ezra but this time Chris stayed while Vin went to get the truck.
The leader wanted to talk to the agent, wanted to lend his support. Give the man some kind of comfort but now that they were alone the leader was at a loss for words.
Ezra knew his boss had stayed behind with him and was slightly put off by the silence. Even though Chris had never been a real big talker right now sound was everything to the man who counted on sight so much.
"Chris?" Ezra asked hesitantly, maybe he was wrong and they had all left.
Chris moved to the bed and sat down next to his friend, "Right here."
"Your weren't saying anything." Ezra stated. It was as close to acknowledging he needed sound as he was willing to admit.
"Sorry." Chris chided himself for forgetting that sound had become important to the sightless man. "I was just running a checklist through my mind."
"Oh?" Ezra wanted to ask what kind of checklist but wasn't sure he wanted to know. What if finding a replacement for him was on that list.
"Yeah. Wondering if I had enough food for that army that is bound to invade my place and stay." Chris said with humor in his voice. Knowing Ezra wouldn't be able to see the humor in his eyes he would now have to put it into his voice.
"Uh uh. Yes that could cause a problem if you were to run out. Knowing how the others shop it would be interesting to know whether we would be having tofu and stir-fry or pizzas and hamburgers. Of course if a certain sharpshooter was buying groceries we would wind up with donuts and chocolate bars." Ezra finished with a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth.
Chris let out a chuckle at this. Yep if Vin was to buy they would all go into sugar shock.
The blond took a deep breath and plunged into what he hoped would come out sounding supportive. "Look Ez," pausing a moment, "None of us can say we know what's its like to be in your place right now. And," Chris put his hand lightly on is friend's back, "I know I'm not the nightingale type. Heck none of us are."
Letting out a chuckle at the thought, "Well maybe Nathan." Running his other hand over his face he tried again, "What I'm trying to say is you're not alone in this. We may not be Brady Bunch material but we do..." Chris swallowed hard. "We do care and we're here."
Chris looked over at the man that gave him the hardest time and who had been the last to give his trust to the team. Ezra and him had gone a few more rounds than the others but sitting here next to the man wrapped in white protective material he realized saying those words weren't as difficult as he had expected them to be. After three years of working, playing and healing together he did care about this man.
Ezra sat in silence contemplating the words his boss had just spoken. No, not his boss his friend. The others considered themselves brothers and while he felt close to these men he wasn't sure if he was ready to label their relationship that just yet. He was still having trouble with the rules of friendship. He had to admit though that Chris' words hit something deep inside of him and he felt the tiniest bit better.
"I appreciate the sentiment Mr. Larabee." Ezra lamented.
The leader nodded then realized he was doing again, using motions instead of words. "Yeah," was all he said but it was enough for both men.
The other three men came back to the room with Josiah pushing a wheelchair. Transportation had learned long ago that it was better to let these men take their own out.
"Well, brother are you ready?" Josiah asked with anticipation in his voice. He was just as anxious to leave this place as the others.
Ezra merely nodded before answering, "Sure."
Hearing nothing but silence he wondered at first why then felt rather than seeing the other's hesitation. Why would they hesitate he wondered. It wasn't them who were going to be relying solely on other people. It wasn't like they didn't have a choice whether they left or not, what they ate, when they ate or any of the thousand other little things they could do for themselves. They weren't going to be at the mercy of other people's good will or temperament. They weren't going to have to be on their best behavior twenty-four/ seven so they could ensure not to tempt anyone's wrath. He was. He was completely reliant on the moods of others. He would have lain down and quit if Nathan hadn't reassured him this was just temporary.
Chris cleared his throat and looked around the room. The other three members of his team were staring at him waiting for his lead. 'Shoot, sometimes being leader really sucked ice cubes.'
The blond sat back down on the bed, "Ez, if there's a problem you got to tell us. We can't read your mind."
'Problem? If there's a problem? Of course there's a stinking problem. I can't see or take care of myself, you morons!' Ezra shook his head and smiled his best smile, "No problem."
Turning his head to where he hoped Josiah was located he plastered on his best smile and forced friendliness into his voice, "I'm am thrilled at the prospect of you emancipating my release from this horrid facility they claim is a healing place, Mr. Sanchez"
The four men shook their heads, they had been warned that Ezra would have mood swings until he became adjusted to his new limitations but they were beginning to wonder if they would all live that long.
Josiah leaned over the wheelchair and locked the brakes while Chris and Vin placed themselves on either side of Ezra and help guide him to the seat. Leaning forward Vin picked up the man's legs and placed his feet on the resting devices.
Giving his friend a warning, "OK Ez here we go," before backing the wheelchair up and turning towards the door.
"Oh goodie," was Ezra reply, no one missing the sarcasm.
The ride out to the ranch was quiet. Neither Vin nor Chris could tell if the brown haired man was asleep or just being quiet again. On the off chance he was asleep neither spoke all the way home enjoying the peace while it lasted.
With Ezra's infirmities there were many new challenges they had never faced before. The loss use of his hands created most of them, bathroom usage was at the top of the list. The medical doctor had decided that knowing Ezra leaving in the foley for a little longer would be less demoralizing for the reticent man. Having the bag emptied by Nathan wouldn't be quite as embarrassing as having to have 'hands on' help the other way. That still left the other problem which also fell to Nathan to take care of, figuring since he was a medic he could be looked upon as more professional in this area. The only thing that helped Nathan adjust to this new role was the fact that he knew Ezra was even less thrilled with the solution than he was.
Then there were the thousand other things a person did for themselves; bathing dressing, brushing teeth, combing hair, blowing noses, the list went on. Some things were assigned; others would be solved by the person closest to Ezra at the time. Since the man usually sat between Josiah and Vin it was naturally given that Josiah would feed him.
Buck had put a hitting bag out in the barn before Ezra's arrival, having the sense they would all be taking turns at it in the future.
The pickup pulled up to the steps and Vin and Buck escorted Ezra up the steps. Without his sight the normally agile man had trouble with balance. When asked where he wanted to sit he replied tiredly that he would like to go to the room and lay down. With a simply nod they headed towards the room while the sightless men reminded them he couldn't hear nods. Vin and Buck cringed inwardly and apologized for their lapse in memory. Before now none of them had thought about how much they had always depended on visual communication with each other.
Sitting Ezra on the side of the bed Buck removed his friend's shoes. The two able men guided the wounded back into a mound of pillows. Arranging them around until Ezra was comfortably ensconced in the downy cushion.
"You ok?" Vin asked in his quiet Texas accent.
"I believe so, Mr. Tanner. I appreciate Mr. Wilmington's and your help." Ezra spoke, grateful for the many pillows padding his sore body.
"No problem Ez. We'll be out in the living room if you need anything. Get some rest, ok?" Buck patted Ezra lower leg, his way of lending comfort.
"I believe I shall do just that," Ezra answered back trying to relax his tense body.
The undercover agent lay on the bed battling the despair that constantly threatened to engulf him. The only upside to it that he could be the tiniest bit grateful for was that no one had been able to find his mother. If he had it his way that was how it was going to stay. The last thing he needed was for Maude to swoop in and rag on him how his job had finally taken away the one thing he could always fall back on, his 'god-given' talent.
As he lay there he tried to ignore the burning sensations that radiated up and down his upper body. If that wasn't bad enough he was getting a blinding heading behind his already sensitive eyes. He idiotically laughed inwardly at this thought. Could a sightless person have a blinding headache? He unconsciously rolled to his side and cradled his head between his bandaged arms and began unconsciously rocking back and forth. He knew tears could have fell if the tear ducts had been in working order. This only made him more morose.
Buck was planning to slip quietly back in and sit with his friend. When he got to the doorway he felt anger build quickly up inside him and stepped back and called out Nathan's name. Going back into the bedroom he knelt down by the bed.
"Sheesh, Ez. Haven't you been in enough pain without trying to endure a migraine?" Buck chided softly while wanting to grasp lightly onto the arms. He knew that at times the headaches his younger brother endured were so painful they it felt as as if his head would explode. Nathan hurried into the bedroom and assessed the problem in a flash. Turning to go get Ezra's migraine pills he ran into Vin. "Need an ice pack," the medic stated.
Vin hurried back into the kitchen and fixed a zip lock baggie of the plastic party ice cubes kept in the freezer. Chris had picked up the plastic squares filled with liquid about a year ago. Finding out they worked better than the real things, they stayed colder longer and they didn't melt. Wrapping the baggie in a thin cup towel he went back to the bedroom and handed it to Buck.
Buck placed the cold relieve at the base of the hurting man's neck and held it there, matching Ezra's rocking rhythm. Nathan came back with a couple of pills and a glass of orange juice with a straw.
"Here Ez. Take these, it'll help" Nathan coaxed.
"What are they?" suspicion and pain heard clearly.
Nathan sucked in his exasperation, "Your migraine pills. I'm giving you two." The medic explained patiently.
Ezra raised his head slightly and Nathan placed the pills in his mouth quickly followed by the straw. Ezra sipped enough juice to swallow the pills then laid his aching head back down and continued the rocking motion.
Vin leaned over and asked, "You want your clothes off." Knowing sometimes when the migraines got real bad the rubbing of the fabric against his skin increased the irritability and thus the pain in his friend.
Ezra could hardly process the question the pain was getting so bad but after Vin asked again he was able to give an indiscernible nod. Vin deftly removed his friend's socks and then without forethought the pants. Always managing to match the back and forth motion. After fifteen minutes the rocking began slowing down and the slight grimace that was set in his face began relaxing. The little audible moans that had escaped became less frequent. The three friends found themselves relaxing as well. Another ten minutes and the man was completely still and the breathing was becoming more even and not as harsh. Buck backed up to the rocker and sat down fixed on watching over his friend.
Nathan and Vin joined the others back in the living room. "I don't like him being back there by himself." Nathan spoke determinedly.
Chris spoke evenly, "We could put a roll away bed in there for the nights. Someone's going to be needed in there when the nightmare's start anyway."
The group knew Chris wasn't making light of the situation just pointing out a fact. The evil sleep intruders had plagued them all at some time during their own recoveries in the past. One did not go through an experience like the previous bust without them.
"Could rotate nights." Josiah added. The others silently agreed.
"That's OK for nights what are we going to do during the day?" Nathan asked pointedly.
"What do you mean? We're all awake during the day." JD asked confused.
"I mean this is Ezra we're dealing with. That man is just as obstinate as the rest of you when it comes to admitting pain. That migraine attack is prove of that." The medic charged, pacing the living room.
The medic continued irritably "You all have that macho I-can-handle-it attitude. But this time its different. He's not going to be able to handle it without breaking." Turning towards the group, "And we all know that one of his fears is looking weak in front of others."
The medic might act oblivious when it came to the undercover agent but he knew the man and his feelings better than Ezra thought, as well as he knew all the others. He had to in order to treat them properly.
"We'll take it as it comes Nathan. That's all we can do," Josiah plainly said. The others shifted resign knowing that was all they could do for now.
Chris was silent for a while before quietly adding, "Still got Adam's room monitor."
Not knowing what else Nathan nodded his head briefly, "That'll work."
Ezra slept heavily, the pills taking away both the pain in his head and his arms. Sleeping for several hours he slowly woke. The first few seconds were still disarming when he found himself in the dark. He didn't think he would ever get use to that feeling no matter what others said. He heard movement to his side, then the bed dip down as someone heavy sat down. Ezra was guessing it was either Josiah or Nathan.
"Feeling better?" Buck asked softly.
Ezra thought about for a moment. "Considering the decomposed position I find myself lapsing into I would have to say that at this moment I should thrive."
Buck smiled at the lengthy answer, "Good to hear it, Ez."
Turning more serious Buck went on, "Don't' do that to me again. OK pal. Next time you start having pain you better tell someone or when this is over I'll take you out behind the barn and whup you. You got it?"
Ezra smiled a real smile, his first since this began, "I shall endeavor to remember that piece of advice."
Buck returned the smile, both physically and in his voice, "You better." Rising off the bed he went to the dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of fleece running pants. "Now let's get you dressed and out of this isolated room."
Ezra was quickly dressed and guided out into the living room where he rested in the recliner for the rest of the day, listening to the others argue over what to have for supper.
Slipping back into a daze he was awaken by a gentle shake on his knee. "C'mon Ez, time to eat," the voice belonging to Vin.
Ezra steeled himself against the humiliation of having to be fed. He had endured it in the hospital but for some unfathomable reason he had in his head that he would be able to do it for himself once he was at the ranch. The reality sat heavy on his pride. He had quit depending on people when he was a child and now...everything he needed was dependent on someone else. Without meaning to he let out a depressed sigh.
Ignoring the sigh Vin passed the bowl in front of Ezra like he normally would have, "Peas." Not asking whether his friend wanted any rather just stating what was in the bowl.
Ezra shook his head. Vin did the same thing with every item passed around the table. At the end Ezra didn't have much on his plate but at least he had some so Nathan wasn't going to gripe. The phrase 'pick your battles' kept ringing in his head and he knew there would some doozies ahead of them.
Supper was ate in the same loud riotous way it always had been. Taking their lead from Vin they returned to their normal routine. After supper Nathan went and got his bag and trudged into the living room. He was not looking forward to this part at all. Shaking two of the strong medication tablets from the bottle into his hands he lowered himself to Ezra's level.
"Here Ez you need to take these." Nathan stated.
Becoming instantly wary Ezra stared at where he hoped was the medic's face. "What am I taking and why am I taking them." Ezra asked slightly defiantly.
Nathan hung his head. "They're pain pills and you're going to need them because its time to massage your arms and medicate your eyes."
Ezra clearly remembered the pain of having that procedure performed on him at the hospital and had no intentions of having it repeated. "No thank you I don't believe that ritual is going to be necessary."
Nathan pressed his lips together tightly and counted to five. "Ezra I know its painful but it has to be done so just take the pills. You'll be thankful for them later."
Ezra sat up straighter, "No," he said with calmness that belied the fear he was beginning to feel.
"C'mon Ez. Just take the pills. The sooner we get it over with the better." Nathan knew it hurt and he didn't relish inflicting the pain on his friend anymore than Ezra wanted it.
"I don't believe so," Ezra stated forcibly.
The other five men had gathered around the living room by now, not sure what they would do if Nathan couldn't get the agent to take the pills. None of them wanted to pin the man down and force the pills down him.
Chris stepped up behind the brown haired man, "Ezra quit fighting Nathan and take the stupid pills."
Both men carried out Chris' order sullenly. Nathan waited thirty minutes before sitting back down in front of the redden man. The medic couldn't stop staring at the skin that looked like it had been out in the sun too long. Gently he patted the man's leg and Ezra nodded. Nathan began carefully unwrapping the bandages.
The five remaining men didn't know what to do. While they didn't want to abandon Nathan they also weren't relishing the idea of staying in the room and watching either. They had done that in the hospital and that had been enough.
The procedure took over an hour by the time each arm was massaged, medicated and re wrapped and the same thing done to the eyes. By the time it was over sweat running freely down Ezra's face and he was breathing hard and ready to pass out. The last strip of tape was smoothed down holding the new bandages in place and Ezra fell limply back into the cushion of the recliner.
After what seemed like an eternity the rebandadged agent was able to huff out, "How many times a day we have to go through that?"
Nathan squirmed and mumbled, "The arms, twice to begin with then after it starts healing three. As for the eyes, just twice a day."
No response came back and the medic looked at his patient. He might not be able to see Ezra's eyes but he could guess what was going through his mind. Nathan decided a talk with Chris about removing all firearms from the house would be in order. He amended that to include anything sharp, as well.
The next day was the same as the previous. Pain seemed to have settled in as constant visitor. The exercises and bandaging was never a battle again but resentment for the whole treatment was rising. The fact that his other necessities were also in the hands of the other continued to grate on his already stressed nerves. Josiah bathed him, Vin brushed his teeth, and Chris combed his hair. The hospital had offered to set up a home health care person to come out to the ranch and perform these duties but that idea had been quickly shot down. They did for each other, no strangers.
JD had finally become accustomed to his friend's new appearance and actively took his place in the scheme of things. He realized where he could help. He went by the library and checked out a couple of books-on-tape.
Buck for his part was at loss of what he could do to ease his friend's pain and depression. Although he tried to hide his feelings of despondency when the others were around they all knew he was falling into the black dungeon of depression. When the six men were alone one night discussing this particular problem it was JD who reminded them that when Ezra had been in emotional tight spots before he had always used his cards as an export. He no longer could do that.
When JD came home with the books on tape Buck knew what he could do. That night he drove into town and up to the condo. Letting himself in the gregarious man walked over to the cd turnstile. Taking out stacks of music cd's in groups at a time he put a rubber band around them. When he had all the cd's in stacks he placed them in a tote bag and picked up the holding rack.
Back out at the ranch the next morning he set the rack up in Ezra's room in the corner and put all the cd's back in their original place. He went out to the barn and found a small table and bought it in. Placing it next to the recliner in the bedroom he placed the cd/radio player on the table. Now Ezra had his books and his music.
When explained where everything was Ezra was overcome at the thoughtfulness of his large friend. Since the cd player could hold five at a time Ezra could listen for a long time without having to ask someone to change them out.
It had been a week exactly to the day since getting out of the hospital and Ezra's tight hold on his resolve was slipping away with each passing day. The loquacious man felt like he had gnawed half his tongue off from not expressing his thoughts.
Nathan had given him the pain pills needed before rebandaging could commence. Taking one of the arms he slowly unwrapped the white netting and began to gently rub the skin and muscles. Hitting a particularly sore spot all civility went out the door and Ezra let loose all his pent up emotions.
Jerking his arm from Nathan he swung his other arm around, as he attempted to stand, connecting his covered elbow with Nathan's jaw, catching the man off guard and sending him to the floor.
"Watch what you're doing you imbecile! I am very aware you have me in a position where you can take out all you're previous seething grievances out on me but I will not allow you to further damage my already useless body!" Ezra shot out before he stormed off towards his bedroom not able to see the magnified look of hurt on the healer's face.
Because of his acute memory Ezra was able to make his way into his room without faltering. Using the bottom of his shoe he slammed the door shut and then gave it a few extra kicks. The rage that had been building had found a solid piece of wood to explode on.
Josiah moved to help Nathan off the floor as Chris rose from his recliner and headed for the bedroom. If Ezra wanted to hit something so bad he was willing to give him a target. Without knocking he cautiously opened the door, peeking in first to locate the mumbling southerner.
"Ezra" Chris started.
"What?" Ezra, who had been pacing his room, spun around and faced the blond. "Don't be mad, Ezra? Get use to it? Deal with it? What great pearls of wisdom is the fierce and insightful Chris Larabee about to impart on me? Uhm?"
The blond ran his hand through his hair and held back the urge to shove this man against the wall. They had known the calm wasn't going to last, they had expected anger; he just didn't expect to feel the pain when his friend turned those feelings on him and lashed out.
"Ezra," Chris started again softly, "There are no words to make what happen ok or help make the pain any easier to bear. I have no words of wisdom."
Ezra wasn't listening he was on roll and had a target. "You always wished your wife and child had lived? Well, Mr. Larabee is this what you would have wished for them?" the covered eyes staring blindly at his boss and holding up his arms. "Is this what you would have Sarah and Adam go through? Or worse?" raising his voice. "You smug, selfish, good-for nothing, jack-you-know-what!"
Chris froze in shock. He had never given any thought to what his family would have gone through if they had survived the fire. In his mind he always had them living happily ever after. Ezra's accusations bought new light to what have might have happened if they had lived. Could he have really asked them to suffer unimaginable pain just for him? Was he really as selfish as Ezra's claimed he was?
As the blond thought about this a sequence of actions bought him out of his reverie. Ezra, forgetting where he was standing, had turned around and punched out at what he thought would be air. Instead his unprotected hand struck the dresser with full impact. This led him to let out a scream and clutch his arm between his chest and other wrist while doubling over in pain.
This action caused him to whack his forehead on the edge of the same dresser. Cracking the skin open and causing a woozy sensation to overcome him as he crumpled to the floor, still cradling his arm. The force of the second impact had the large mirror, which was freely standing on the dresser, to fall over, part of it hitting the edge and shattering into an infinite number of pieces. Reining shards of glass down on the brown haired man sitting on the floor rocking back and forth cursing himself for becoming an agent.
Chris heard the injured hand hitting the dresser and cringed. Chris moved forward in the same instant as Ezra leaned over and hit the dresser with his head. He watched in horror as the mirror toppled over. All he could do at that moment was to call out a warning. "Ezra freeze!"
The other five men had stayed in the living room and listened as the southern voice escalated but at the sound of his scream they were up and moving. Barging into the room they saw Ezra sitting in a sea of broken glass with Chris kneeling beside him carefully picking small pieces of glass off his friend.
"Chris! What did you do?" Buck asked incredulously.
"Shut up Buck!" Chris snapped.
"He didn't do this Mr. Wilmington. I performed this little deed all by myself." Ezra defended his boss, not looking up.
Without looking at anyone else the leader began barking out orders. "JD, I need some ice packs. Vin, get me a towel."
Placing one hand gingerly around Ezra's back and the other under his knees Chris lowered his voice, "Hold on, I'll get you out of this."
Carefully lifting the man up he walked over to the overstuffed recliner and gently lowered Ezra down. For the first time Nathan noticed the bleeding head wound and struggled hard to keep from having a fit. A closer look had him calming down a little, it was only a small laceration and wouldn't require anything more than a cold compress and maybe a couple of butterfly Band-Aids. Grabbing the towel Vin held out for him Nathan gently placed it over the wound and began muttering about how some people could get hurt in a padded cell. This elicited several chuckles, which were quickly muffled by the healer's glare.
Josiah took the proffered ice packs from the young agent and applied them carefully on the newly injured hand. He watched fascinated as the blond man with the fierce reputation, who moments earlier had suffered a mental punch, painstakingly remove glass from the brown hair.
With everyone gathered around Ezra whispered, "I deeply apologize for my rude and uncalled for outburst."
Chris and Nathan said, "I know, and, It's OK" simultaneous. Both men looked up at one another then at the man doing the apologizing. Grinning at one another they went back to performing their duties.
"Hey that was good Ez. Two for the price of one." Buck laughed out. The others quickly joined him.
As the black clad leader had pointed out earlier in the week nightmares were sure to come and come they did. The sudden release of those tightly controlled emotions came through in the form that the undercover agent had fought against during the night. The same night as the dresser incident the torrent of memories flashed through the slumbering man's dreams. The images of the smoke bomb exploding milliseconds before he covered his eyes appeared in clear images.
Josiah had taken that night to sleep in the room. He heard the soft moans and rose up to check on his friend and noticed the restlessness. Throwing back the covers he began walking the short distance between the beds when the other man sat straight up, struggling for air.
Reaching the man he thought of as a son he laid his large hand softly on the bandaged shoulder, "I'm right here, Ez."
Ezra couldn't answer to save his life. The images had been so real, so colorful he was sure it happened again. He felt the light weight of Josiah's hand and subconsciously leaned into it.
Josiah continued to talk to Ezra in a comforting voice, "It's over, son. Just a bad dream."
The hard breathing man nodded his head. Yes, for now it was over until he went back to sleep. The big man sensed the other's hesitancy to lie back down. He understood that fear all to well. He understood the need to stay awake and not go back to that place that haunted one's dreams.
"How about some music," Josiah asked as he moved to play one the classical cd's that he knew Ezra liked. As the music played the muscles and nerves began to relax. Ezra slowly lowered himself back into the pile of pillows. He told himself he wouldn't go back to sleep but his tired body soon betrayed him.
The second nightmare of the night brought forth the same kind of animalist screams that had peeled from him in the warehouse. These bought the other five men hurrying into the tight space. After being assured by the profiler that all was taken care of they left the room, knowing it would only get worse before it began to get better. Much like the physical wounds he suffered.
The next screams didn't take long to come after the man had finally fallen asleep the second time. Josiah's heart was wrenched in pain. Kneeling by the bed and talking in soft voice he came to a decision that would either help or get him shot.
Keeping Ezra sitting up in bed he pushed some of the pillows out of his way. Climbing onto the bed he leaned against the sturdy headboard. Keeping one hand on Ezra he used his other hand to rearrange the pillows, then gently he pulled the younger man back against his chest and loosely wrapped his arms around the other's waist.
All the time he continued to whisper, "I got ya, son."
Ezra felt himself being pulled back down and immediately tensed. When he realized he had stopped in a reclining position he tried to figure out what object he was pressing against. The gently deep voice whispering in his ear and the light but strong grip around his waist and the slow even rhythm of the other's breathing fell into place, he was leaning against the big man's chest. Part of his brain yelled out in defiance but it was quickly over rode by the larger part of the brain that found solace and safety in his friend. He slept peacefully throughout the rest of the night.
Chris and Vin were up early as usual and the blond stuck his head in to check on Ezra. He had wondered at the sudden stoppage of the signals of nightmares and grinned to himself at the sight. Looking back at his sharpshooter he nodded his head and opened the door a little wider. There was Josiah sitting up in bed with one leg hanging off and Ezra propped up his chest, safely ensconced in the large arms.
Shutting the door back Vin looked at his friend and grinned largely, "Dang Cowboy, hope we all don't have to do that."
Chris returned the smile, "You'll think of something when it comes your turn."
Though both men laughed about it they knew deep inside that if that was what it took to help their brother through the nights that neither one would back away from it. For better or worse they would do whatever it took. This had always been the case and would continue that way forever.
Two days later the leader of the team received a call from D.A. Travis informing them that the team was needed back at work. Plans were made up and the following day Ezra was moved back to town into his condo. Arrangements had been made with Mrs. Potter, a retired lady the men all knew, to come sit Ezra during the day. They knew Nathan would still need to keep to the regiment of medicating and exercising Ezra's arms three times a day now that there were signs of healing and would see to his personal needs during that time and Chris made a schedule for rotating the nights.
A routine fell quickly in place. Nathan would come over in mornings to take care of the undercover agent's needs with the help of the one who had stayed the night. The foley had been removed and the bathroom necessities were revamped. Then he and one of the others would go back at lunch and finally after work one or more, most of the time all, would accompany him for the last therapy of the day. Though the days seem to be ok the nights were still a different matter. The nightmares still robbed the household of a goodnight's sleep. Each man did what they could to ease the difficulties the night bought on. Nothing was ever mentioned about them the next morning. Chris was giving it another week before he called in a counselor that they all trusted to help.
Team Seven was assigned jobs that didn't require Ezra. They did a lot of stings on stores selling cigarettes to minors using JD as the underage teenager. They followed up leads on tips about interstate hauling of illegal alcohol. When necessary they assisted other teams in backup. The idea of being relegated to second place grated on their nerves but they carried out their jobs with professionalism.
It was a Sunday afternoon and the beginning of the fourth week. All of the men had invaded the small living room to watch the game on the big screen T.V. The burned arms were looking much better and Ezra had made some progress in the ability to curve his fingers in an attempt to make a fist. At least that part was looking better. The eyes were still a concern, at the last doctor's visit they had been told the swelling had gone down considerably but Ezra still remained in the dark. The ophthalmologist could not give a set time when the sight would return. For now Nathan would keep medicating the eyes and hope for the best.
Ezra liked being back in his condo and although he still depended on the others he felt easier about walking around his place. Feeling tired of sitting he rose up from the couch and walked around it intending to stretch his legs and maybe journey out onto the patio. Rounding the back of the couch Ezra stumbled over an object, not being able to catch himself he let out a yelp as he tumbled forwards, landing on his healing but sore arms and striking his head on another object.
The yelp and subsequent fall bought everyone to attention and running towards the fallen man. Seeing Ezra trying to right himself Josiah slid between him and the couch and righted his friend. Ezra couldn't think straight, his head throbbing with intense pain. Cradling his head once again between his arms he began to rock.
Buck saw the cause of the fall and though he seldom did it he ripped into his youngest friend and roommate. "Dang it JD! You lose your brain or something?" he shouted while at the same time picking up a rollerblade and tossing it to the other agent.
JD was horrified. Not because his best friend had hollered at him but because he realized he was responsible for Ezra's fall. "I'm sorry." He answered quietly.
"That doesn't help now. Sometimes you really need to think things thru." Buck wasn't so mad at JD as he was fearful for the man in front of him clutching his head and moaning had done some more damage to himself. "You know we have to be more careful than usual."
While Buck was reprimanding JD, Josiah watched Ezra's constant move of his hands to cover his head softly and asked the man he thought of as a son, "What is it?"
Ezra was beyond thinking about any mask or hiding emotions, "Need more hands." He replied through gritted teeth.
Placing his hands under his friend's, "Here. Put them where you need them."
Ezra guided the hands so they wrapped around his forehead and the back of his head. Once he had those in place he went back to holding the sides with his arms. Nathan waited to do a check on the hurting brother. He didn't see any blood and figured Ezra had just endured another hit to the head.
Ezra had slowed his rocking but still wanted to shed tears he couldn't have anyway when he heard Vin approach.
"Uh, Chris, Ezra has a telephone call." Vin voiced quietly. None of them had heard the undercover agent's cell go off.
"Well, tell whoever it is he'll call later." The leader snapped back. He was watching the color come back into Ezra's face and was thinking Nathan was right about the padded cell.
Vin still stood there. "It's Mr. Cole. He wants to talk to Elijah." The tracker informed the group.
All six heads popped up at the same time to stare at the sharpshooter. What the heck was that man calling Ezra for. They all figured the man had taken off for distant lands by now and set up his business elsewhere.
"I'll take it." Ezra gasped out.
"Ezra." Chris spoke plaintively. This was the last thing his agent needed. To be reminded he couldn't do his job by the man responsible for this situation to begin with.
"The phone, Chris." Ezra said with a bit more authority.
Vin handed Chris the cell phone and he flipped off the mute button. Holding it up to the agent's ear, the black clad leader was once again reminded he had the best agent there was as he watched the rocking, grimacing agent turn into the smooth talking, self-reliant Elijah.
"Mr. Cole, what a surprise?" Ezra spoke smoothly, no hint of pain traceable in his voice.
"To what do I owe this pleasure? I would have thought you were relocated by now in a better, if not safer location." Ezra continued the conversation without any hesitation.
"The other six men listened as the seventh spoke to the arms dealer like one would talk to a long lost friend found again.
"A meeting? Yes, that could be arranged. Tomorrow afternoon in the downtown area?" The agent's head moved in agreement with whatever was said on the other end. "Yes, that sounds perfect. See you then."
Ezra pulled his head slightly away from the phone, indicating the conversation was over and Chris ended the call.
"Well, gentlemen, it looks like we are back in business." Ezra fairly sang. The smile on his face was the old smile that had been missing for to long.
Chris hated throwing cold water on his agent's happiness but it fell to him to point out the obvious. "Ezra, we can't do it." Waiting for the explosion that was to come.
Whipping his head around in the location of his boss, forgetting all previous pain, "What do you mean 'We can't do it'?"
Understanding dawned on the agent as anger swelled up inside him. "You mean I can't do it don't you?"
"Ezra" Buck began to placate his friend. The brown haired brother had been through enough; this was just plain mean of the fates to his way of thinking.
Turning towards Buck the undercover agent began to fight for his place on the team without realizing it. "I can do my job under any circumstance you throw at me, Mr. Wilmington. I intend to bring this case to a close with or without your help."
The set jaw and the determined voice said it all. It wouldn't matter if they hog tied him and put him in a locked room Ezra would be at that meeting tomorrow. Chris and Josiah caught each other's eyes and seemed to be thinking the same thing. Maybe this was exactly what the agent needed. To be able to put to rest the dreams that haunted him by taking down the man who had started them in the first place.
"Ok, Ez. We'll give it a try." Chris said, shaking his head in disbelief at what they were about to do.
"What!" Nathan and JD yelled at the same time. Nathan went on a tirade. "Chris think about this. What has possessed you to think that a) he can do this at all and b) we're going to get away with it when D.A. Travis finds out? We could lose our jobs over this."
Ezra hung his head, he had not thought of the consequences that would surely befall his friends because of his greedy need to prove himself. "I'm sorry. Nathan's right of course, it was a stupid and selfish thought on my behalf. I shall call Mr. Cole back and suggest another dealer." The emptiness in their brother's voice rattled them all for a moment.
Glaring at the healer Chris' authoritative, don't-mess-with-me voice rolled through the room loud and clear, "We're taking this guy down ourselves."
Arguments that might have been voiced died in the throat of those who would debate such logic. Josiah helped Ezra back up on his feet and guided him back to the front of the couch. The other five men followed suit.
"Well I guess we better come up with a plan." Buck smiled hugely. If they pulled this off they would really be top dog and no one would ever doubt their ability as a team again.
"Already working on it Mr. Wilmington." Ezra was as happy as a kid on spring break.
"Let's hear it," Chris asked, shaking his head. He shouldn't have been surprised that the highly gifted agent had a plan. The man's mind worked at warp speed.
"Since my infirmities hinder me somewhat Buck will become my driver." Ezra stood up and began pacing, cautiously at first, the front of the room.
"And because of the last invasion of our esteemed local law enforcement I have hired a body guard," stopping directly in front of Josiah.
The older man just smiled at the younger man's uncanny ability to know where everyone was at all times. Then he sadly shook his head, if those abilities could only work on objects his brother would receive far less injuries.
Josiah came back to reality as Ezra continued his plan. "Since I'm now incapacitated to some degree I require an assistance." He stopped before the sharpshooter. "Someone who can oversee the proceedings and knows weaponry." Ezra finished with a smile while silently adding, 'and Vin has that noted sixth-sense that's needed'.
Chris nodded his head as Ezra continued to lay out the plan. A slight smile formed on his lips. 'Heck, even down and injured his team still ran circles around all the other teams.' This thought overshadowed any reservations he might have had in the beginning. He was thankful at that moment more than ever that Buck had kept him alive. He would never had met these great men and become part of their lives otherwise.
Buck scooted over to his sulking young black haired roommate. Giving the kid a gentle nudge in the ribs he flashed his bright smile when JD looked his way. All was forgiven and no one was seriously hurt by the incident. JD flashed his own smile and went back to listening to the plan.
The house was quiet except for the various snores resonating throughout the condo. In the bedroom Vin and Ezra was quietly talking about the meeting tomorrow. Ezra was giving the sharpshooter some pointers on what kind of character he needed to play.
Vin was listening to the agent with a lopsided grin spreading across his face. They had all noticed the drastic change in the agent since the phone call. The withdrawn, complacent person their friend had slowly become faded and was replaced by the outgoing, talkative brother they all knew. The fire in him grew as he explained every detail of the plan and the excitement in his voice was hard to miss. All of them were slightly amazed at how quickly the man could lay out a perfect blueprint for the meeting and subsequent meeting that would follow, leading to the arrest of the gun runner.
The quiet sharpshooter suddenly asked, "Why'd you pick me, Ez?" wondering why the man didn't pick Chris, who he seemed to have relied on more heavily lately than he ever had.
Ezra sat thinking of how to best answer the question without revealing to much. "Mr. Tanner I find your ability to sense trouble would be a valuable asset in this situation."
"Oh. Ok." easily accepting both the spoken and unspoken explanation for his placement. Ezra might be confident in his ability to con the gunrunner but without the use of eyes he needed someone else to read the people in the room and be able to sense trouble before it came. Though Vin never gave it a second thought he knew he possessed these qualities. Just another thing the two men had in common.
The next day bought a flurry of activities. Buck and JD went to check out all the equipment they would need to make this operation go as well as possible. Josiah and Vin went to their respective homes and cleaned up and dressed for their parts. Buck would be picking up the Cadillac on his way back to the condo, then get dressed himself.
Nathan redressed the arms, using the least amount of gauze as possible. Ezra's had his hands now covered by special gloves worn by burn victims to keep the skin protected and circulation kept at the optimum. The medic then started to unwrap the sensitive eyes. The sunburned looking cheeks had begun to lighten in their bright color. Unwrapping the patch-covered eyes Nathan noticed that most of the swelling had gone down and the burned effect appeared to have lessened. Keeping his hopeful thoughts to himself the medic didn't want Ezra's mind on anything but the task before him. Preparing to rebandage the orbs he was stopped by an arm.
"No, Nathan. No patches or wrapping." Ezra spoke quietly.
"Ezra, I've got to keep those eyes covered." Nathan answered back, surprised by the request.
"Then we have to think of something else. The injuries must appear less debilitating than they are." Ezra explained. Not blaming Nathan for caring and worrying about his health.
Nathan sat back and took in the words silently acknowledging the spoken words. Running a hand over his face he suddenly sat up. "I got it." Excited by the idea.
"Well?" prompted Ezra.
"I could use the large square gauze bandages and fold them down to the size where they would just cover your eyes, then tape them down. With large dark sunglasses we might get by without anyone noticing them." Then added, "Especially if we used some of that undercover makeup you use sometimes to alter your looks. We could color the bandages and tape to match you skin color." Nathan was getting into this the more he thought about it.
"Excellent idea, Mr. Jackson. Shall we get busy?" Ezra smiled, Nathan could be roped into the circle just like the others when the adrenaline began pumping.
Chris walked into the bathroom where Ezra was sitting on the lid of the toilet waiting for him to comb his hair. For some reason Chris was the only one Ezra had trusted to perform this deed.
Brushing the man's hair into place Chris felt out Ezra cautiously, "So we ready for this?"
Ezra wasn't fooled; he knew his boss was giving him a way out while keeping what was left of his pride intact. "Yes, Mr. Larabee I believe we shall soon have the incorrigible Mr. Cole and his miscreants securely behind bars. It shall definitely be a coup for the members of the team."
Chris nodded with a smile. "Mr. Larabee, although I have made great stride in recuperation I still can not hear a nod."
Chris laughed out and grabbed the gel to place in the brown hair. With or without sight Ezra could still be a pain and a laugh.
Buck bought the car to a slow halt. The office building where the meeting was to take place appeared to be vacant. Josiah eased himself from the car then turned back and gave the ok. Vin exited the car next and reached back in, placed the extra dark large sunglasses on the slender face and began to guide Ezra from the car. Reassuring the agent that Nathan had done a good job camouflage the bandaging.
Walking closer to Vin than he normally would allow the two walked side by side without touching, listening to the steps of the large man that followed closely behind. A deep sense of calmness and assurance filled him with the knowledge that he could trust these two meant to keep him out of harm's way.
Vin was constantly whispering to him, describing the layout of the building they entered. When the sharpshooter spotted the offender and his henchmen walking towards them from the other end of the building he gave the silent gesture Ezra and him had worked out the night before.
"Mr. Cole," Ezra spoke confidently, "I would gladly shake your hands but as you can see the hands have not quite healed from our last encounter," turning his head to where the bodyguard stood and gave what he hoped they took as a pointed look.
Mr. Cole was quick to apologize for his man's misdeed and the injury his supplier had incurred in the process. Then the two businessmen got down to affairs. Discussing the next transaction of weapons and the price. Ezra had prepared for the argument when he announced the prices had gone up but calmly explained that having the ATF confiscate his last group of merchandise had put a small crimp in financial statement. Mr. Cole had no choice but acknowledge the point and agreed on the new price.
Heading back to the car unaided Vin kept his eyes open for anything that could trip up the blind man and ruin the appearance that he could see. He still had trouble coming to the conclusion that the men they had just left hadn't noticed the bandages. But Nathan and the sunglasses had hid that part well and the signals him and Ezra had worked out last night kept the others from figuring out Ezra didn't see. This might turn out well after all.
Back at the condo the celebration was going strong. Chris had gone to conference with Travis and inform him of what had taken place. They knew the older man wouldn't take it well at all but Chris could handle him and get the go ahead to complete the mission. Ezra hadn't felt this good in a long time. He felt alive. Maybe, he could continue his job without his sight after all. He knew it wouldn't happen but for these few minutes in time he let himself believe it was possible.
D.A. Travis was having a coronary as he slammed back his third drink. What the heck did Larabee think he was doing risking his agent's life, not to mention the team as whole, on this afternoon's little escapade? He would be the first to admit Standish was the best undercover agent to come down the pike in years but to let the man go in blind, literally, just so it wouldn't be taken away from them.
The black clad leader had tried to explain it to him. Chris said it had nothing to do with Ezra redeeming himself, didn't need to he had done nothing wrong but rather proving something else to the man. The D.A. had tried to understand but frankly when it came to that team he understood very little, except to stay out of their way and let them do their jobs. That's exactly what he had somehow been cornered into doing. He had given the leader plenty of warning, though; this had better not blow up in their faces, figuratively speaking.
Team Seven was riding high. In just a couple of more days they would put one Mr. Cole behind bars and be rid of one more miscreant. Ezra sat alone in his room listening to the other's retell every detail of the earlier meeting. He could hear Vin telling how amazed he was that for someone who was supposedly so smart, Mr. Cole didn't even notice the man he was doing business with was blind. At that word all excitement ceased and the outer room became eerily silent.
Ezra knew without needing any other senses that the sharpshooter was cursing himself and the others would certainly be holding there breath. After a few moments he heard footsteps softly approach the door and felt the presence of another being.
"Yes, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked without any of the hurt the statement had caused.
"Uh, just checking to see if you needed anything?" Ezra heard the lie in the other man's voice easily.
"Mr. Tanner you were just in here. Now could there be something I could do for you?" the undercover agent spoke bluntly.
Lowering his head Vin spoke so low that Ezra could barely make out the words. "I'm sorry, Ez."
If Ezra had been in the mood he would have made his friend squirm a little by playing innocent and asking what the sharpshooter was sorry for. Instead he simply replied. "You were just reiterating the truth we all know it to be."
"But that just it, Ez," Vin started as he slowly approached the bed where his friend was sitting. "We don't know it's the truth. Nathan say these injuries take time o heal and the eyes are sometimes the slowest part of the body to mend."
Ezra could feel the nearness of his friend and had to smile inwardly. Vin and JD still showed some of that youthful belief that everything would always work out for the best. They both had a tendency to defend whoever was being picked on within the group. It made the others more protective of them.
Ezra couldn't stomp on his friend's bubble as the brown hair bobbed up and down in agreement, "Mr. Tanner you are correct in rebuttal. There is no actual proof that I shall remain sightless forever."
Vin smiled at his friend and nodded, he was the only one who seemed to still get away with the silent communications with Ezra. No one really paid any attention to it; it seemed only natural that Vin could communicate with any of them without words. Sight or no sight.
The day of meet had come. The team had stayed up half the night drilling into their brains each step. They had countermeasures for their countermeasures, backup plans for their backup plans, and nothing was left unthought of or unrehearsed. The final goal was to get Mr. Cole arrested and keep Ezra safe at all costs. Though, the brown haired undercover agent hadn't like that thought one little bit. After a few terse words from both sides the leader had simply said that was how it going to be take it or leave it. Ezra took it, begrudgingly.
Buck once again pulled the Lincoln to a slow stop in front of the meeting place. Even though he knew the place and surrounding areas were covered thickly with hiding agents ready to swarm down on them at the given signal his stomach was still doing flip-flops. He brain kept reminding himself this take down was no different than the countless other busts they had made but, somehow his stomach and nerves weren't buying it.
Josiah and Vin looked at one another across the chest of the man that sat between them. They had meant it when they had pledged to get Ezra to safety at all costs. Staring into each other's eyes that promise was retaken. They both cared too much for this man to let anything happen now. They had worked to hard bringing him into their family and convincing him was at least a good friend even though they thought of him more than that. Ezra was their brother and brothers protected one another.
Josiah eased the door opened and slid out. As the bodyguard he took a cursory look around his surroundings and spotted the different locales where he knew other agents were lying in wait. Satisfied that everything looked good he gave the low signal to Vin and the long lean man stepped out on his side of the car and waited for his 'boss' to appear behind him.
Ezra took a deep breath and slid across the seat to the exit. Stepping out of the car like he owned the world no one would know that the man who was exuding confidence and purpose was a one large shaking nerve wreck on the inside. Taking another deep breath he blocked out that persona and turned on the dealer persona. Giving a slight nod of his head the three men headed for the door that would lead them to one of their greatest cases or one their worst.
Vin once again whispered details imperative to Ezra's ability to carry this con out. Hearing the lowly criminal converge to his space Ezra steeled himself for the role of his life.
"Mr. Cole, how are you today," wishing he could dispense with the niceties and get down to business.
"Mr. Stone, I am well and yourself?" Mr. Cole responded in kind.
Trying hard not to let the boredom of the greeting rituals show through he went on, "I'm healing well." Not able to resist throwing in the small barb.
Josiah wanted to give his 'boss' a kick in the shins. 'We're here to arrest them no antagonize them, Ez.' Vin was barely able to stifle the chuckle that had threatened to erupt from him. 'Dang if ol' Ez ain't going to get the last lick in one way or another'
Still smiling innocently the undercover agent asked, "Well, shall we begin this transaction I do not relish being interrupted so rudely like we were before."
"By all means," the gunrunner answered back, not like being rushed but seeing the other man's point.
Chris and the others listened intently as the meeting continued and the arms and prices were discussed for the last time. The leader was standing next to the door that would get him the quickest to the men of his on the inside. He had never really been a praying man but at this moment he was making up for lost time. He heard the crates opened and the weapons inspected then the latches of a briefcase being released and he knew the money would be equally inspected. Normally, Ez could look at a certain amount of money and tell you precisely how much there was he just hoped today the villainous idiot they were dealing with today didn't short change the man.
He almost laughed when he heard Ezra order Vin to pick up each stack of bills and rifle his thumb through the edges. He really had a hard time keeping it together when the undercover agent announced he had been short changed by two hundred dollars. The leader listened as Mr. Cole objected to this accusation then quickly apologizes when Vin counted the money and came up two hundred dollars short. 'When it comse to Ez and money you didn't fool him' Mr. Cole quickly came up with the extra two hundred and offered his apologies once more.
Hearing the end of the transaction the leader of team seven spoke quietly into his mike and ordered for all agents to move in. The warning he would hurt any one of them if one his men got hurt again had previously issued. All agents descended on the group of men discussing weaponry. Chris nodded peacefully when all the criminals had been secured in cuffs, knowing Ezra had already been ushered out another exit and was probably already half way back to the condo. Tonight Inez's place would have a party the likes of which the place had never been seen before.
The seven men had faced the greatest challenge as an ATF team two weeks ago. Today they were going to face their greatest challenge as a family. Today they were going to learn the extent of damage to those green orbs that told all or nothing, that could spot a lie or the truth in a heartbeat. They would learn if they would still be complete as a team.
The burns on the agent's chest and arms had healed well. He was gaining back his dexterity in his hands a little more every day. Ezra had to silently give all the credit to the medic of the group for pushing him and encouraging him to keep exercising at the times when he most felt like quitting.
The ophthalmologist walked into his office and immediately took a step backwards as he came face to face with an overcrowded examining room. A smile grew over his lips as he wondered if this man he had been treating for almost two months realized just how luck he was to have such devoted friends. He placed himself on a black stool in front of his patient.
"Well, Mr. Standish I understand from Mr. Jackson, here," looking at the other man, "that you are able to distinguish light the last couple of days."
Ezra tried to steady his nerves. "Yes, that is correct." Hoping for things wanted in the past had only led to disappointment. He was striving not to get his hopes up for a complete recovery but he needed this one thing like he had never needed anything before, even more than needing his mother.
"Don't sound so down, that's a good sign." The doctor lightly chastised his patient.
The six men laughed and Ezra blushed a deep red that almost matched the color of skin when it was burned. He hadn't realized his thoughts had come out in his voice. He reminded himself to be more watchful.
"So it is doctor, thank you for reminding me of that fact," sounding properly chastised.
"OK then. Lets see what we got," the ophthalmologist stated and began unwrapping the protected eyes.
Putting Ezra through a number of tests. He checked the depth and peripheral vision, amount of lighting that could be distinguished. Then the tests included shapes, colors and a multitude of questions.
After a significant pause the Doctor sat back and smiled, "Well, Mr. Standish if you no longer have employment I would start seeking some because in another week or so you will be ready to be employed once again."
The seven men were dead silent as they processed the man's words. The man was worse than Ezra with his puzzling dialogue. Buck, having to translate for JD all the time, was the first to translate the message.
"Whoopee!!" the gregarious yelled out as he grabbed the smaller man around the waist and picked him up.
Embarrassment flooded the reticent agent. But, he realized it was quickly replaced with comfort and pure happiness. He was going to have his sight back to normal in a week or a little more. He still had a place within this team. Within this family he had unconsciously become dependent on.
The seven men left the same way they did everything, in a tight group. The bandages had been left off and Nathan would only have to medicate them for the next couple of weeks. Following the rest of his men out of the office Chris couldn't help but think of the lines to the song The Impossible by Joe Nichols.
Unsinkable ships sink
Unbreakable walls break
Sometimes the thing you think will never happen, happens just like that
Unbendable steel bends If the fury of the wind is unstoppable
I've learned to never underestimate the impossible
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