Ezra gasped as a frigid blast of wind-whipped snow struck him and he quickly moved back into the shelter of the doorway to try and gain control of his now violently shivering body. The cold air striking his fevered skin was quickly draining what little strength he had left and he was finding it increasingly hard to retain his grip on the gun. To make matters worse, his eyes were tearing and aching so badly from the unrelenting glare of the snow that he could barely stand to keep them open. And the longer he stood in the relative safety of that doorway, the harder it was to leave it. He glanced back in the cabin and knew he was going to eventually die if he stayed there... but he also knew his chances of survival were no better out in that storm. It was just a matter of how he wanted to die... as a helpless victim... or fighting. He didn't know how much fight he had left in him... but he decided he had to at least try, so he tightened his grip on the gun and forced himself to move away from the door.
Parker angrily wielded the axe, taking his anger at Standish out on the pile of logs instead. He knew if he didn't, his temper would get the best of him and he'd end up killing the gambler before he was ready to give up on the game. He'd worked too hard setting this whole thing up to let it end so soon. Besides, the southerner had turned out to be a better adversary than he'd thought he would be and he was enjoying himself too much to give it up now. With his anger passing, Parker finally began to feel the cold and decided to go back in and resume toying with his prey. He drove the axe back in the chopping block and began gathering up the wood.
Ezra stumbled across the yard, careful to keep the cabin between himself and Parker. He could see the outline of a small barn out back of the cabin and assumed that was where he'd sheltered the horses... but he knew with his arms tethered and his ankle in the shape it was, that he'd never be able to mount one of them anyway so he kept heading in the direction of the woods. Glancing back, he was thankful to see that the wind and snow were filling in his footprints. Hopefully, once he reached the cover of the woods he'd be able to find some kind of shelter to hide in while he recovered some of his strength. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he didn't stand a chance in hell of surviving out here in this storm, but he refused to give up and kept moving toward the trees.
He was half way across the yard when he heard it... or rather stopped hearing it. The chopping sound of the axe. Ezra froze in his tracks and stared back toward the cabin, desperately trying to get his eyes to focus. All he could see were shapes in the blinding whiteness of the whirling snow... and every one of them looked like Parker closing in on him. His finger tightened on the trigger and he had to force himself to calm down before he wasted the only bullet he had. Ezra turned and tried to move faster toward the shelter of the woods, but his whole body was numb from the constant cold and he knew he was dangerously close to passing out. He staggered and almost fell several times as his injured ankle nearly gave out on him, but each time he managed to stay upright and move forward again as he concentrated every ounce of his being on getting away.
Parker came around the end of the cabin with his armload of firewood, looked up at the porch and stared in anger at the door hanging open. Throwing the wood down, he whipped around to look for any sign of the southerner... he couldn't possibly have gotten far in the condition he was in.
"Standish! You're going to die when I catch you!"
Ezra's steps faltered when he heard Parker's voice and his heart raced as the fear threatened to overwhelm him again. He glanced up to see how close he was to the cover of the trees and was startled to see that the snow had stopped and the force of the wind had lessened. He'd been so focused on putting one foot in front of the other and maintaining his grip on the gun that he hadn't noticed the storm diminishing. Ezra wanted to look back to see where Parker was, but he knew if he saw him he'd never be able to get himself moving again, so he pushed on for the trees which were thankfully only a few yards away.
Parker glanced down at the ground, but any tracks the conman had left were covered over now. He contemplated the shed with the horses in it, but dismissed it almost immediately knowing Standish wouldn't be able to pull himself up on a horse with his hands bound to his waist. That meant he had to be headed for the shelter of the trees. His anger mounting with every minute that passed, Parker gazed around the large clearing trying to catch a glimpse of the gambler. Suddenly he caught a movement near the tree-line out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head quickly, he finally spotted Standish just before he disappeared into the woods. An evil sadistic grin slowly spread across his face as he began moving toward the trees.
Ezra huddled against a tree trying to shake off the numbness that was spreading through his body. He had to keep looking down at his hand to make sure he was still holding the gun... his fingers were so cold he couldn't feel a thing and he could only pray that he'd be able to squeeze the trigger if he needed to. The exhausted gambler closed his eyes and fought back tears of frustration as he tried to focus his feverish mind on what he should do next. His captor had only given him just enough food and water to keep him alive and it was now making it almost impossible for him to concentrate on anything. What little strength he'd had left was almost gone and he needed to find somewhere to rest soon. With a weary sigh, he opened his eyes... and let out a startled scream as he found himself staring at the hulking form of Parker standing only a few yards away.
"Where'd you think you were going, little man?" Parker smiled at the fear he saw shimmering in the gambler's eyes. "You didn't actually think you'd be able to get away from me, did you?"
Ezra's whole body began to tremble at the realization that his nightmare was never going to end. His mind was on the verge of shutting down completely when suddenly he remembered the gun in his hand. It was shielded from Parker's sight by his body leaning against the tree and he had to remind himself not to look down... not to draw the man's attention to it. He tightened his grip on the gun as he saw the huge man start to move closer... forcing himself to wait until the last possible moment to use it... knowing it was his only hope.
Parker saw something other than fear flash across his victim's eyes and paused for a second... defiance? Did the man actually still have that much left in him? Laughing softly in anticipation of destroying completely the man standing before him, he moved slowly forward.
Ezra felt his body break out in a cold sweat as he watched the huge man move closer and closer. Shifting all his weight to his good leg, he tilted his body backwards slightly to give him the best shot at Parker he could manage. Ezra waited until the towering figure was within arm's reach of him before twisting his body to the right and firing.
Parker stared at Standish in amazement as he fired the gun and realized he had underestimated him again when he felt the bullet tear through his side. The force of the impact caused him to stagger back several feet but failed to knock him down and the pain from the bullet only fueled his anger to a blinding white-hot rage.
Ezra stared in horror as Parker touched his side, looked at the blood on his fingers and then brought his eyes back up to lock onto his. The hate radiating out at him filled him with a paralyzing fear that drove all thoughts of escape from his mind. Letting the gun slip from his trembling fingers into the snow, Ezra pressed himself back against the tree and watched numbly as Parker rushed towards him... only having time to utter one soft "please" before the man was on him.
The huge man grabbed Ezra's arms, lifted him off his feet and slammed him viciously against the tree twice before finally tossing him on the ground at his feet. Ezra lay there moaning softly as he fought to hold out against the blackness that threatened to take him, wanting to move away from his tormentor but not having the strength left to do so. He gasped as Parker flipped him over onto his stomach and struggled weakly as he felt him fumbling with the buckle of the belt his arms were fastened to. He wanted to ask his captor what he was going to do but couldn't quite get his whirling mind to formulate his thoughts into words.
Parker finally managed to get the snow-packed buckle undone and grabbing the conman around the waist, lifted him off the ground and started walking. "I think we need to fix it so you can't try to run out on our little game again, Mr. Standish." Ezra tried to squirm out of the larger man's arms, but he merely tightened his hold and warned him to be still or it would go worse for him. The southerner wearily wondered how it could possibly get any worse than it was, but stopped his futile attempts to escape, not wanting to waste what little strength he had left.
Parker finally found a tree that would suit his needs. He held the smaller man under a low hanging branch and forcing his arms in the air, looped the belt they were handcuffed to over the branch and buckled it in place. Ezra tried to fight him, but the sudden upward movement of his arms which had been in the same position by his sides since the ordeal had begun, sent pains shooting through his shoulders sharp enough to take his breath away. Hanging there gasping for air, he looked down and saw that his feet barely touched the ground and realized there was nothing he could do to defend himself in this position. He looked back up at Parker and saw that his shirt was soaked with blood from the bullet wound and wondered how the man could still be on his feet, much less able to manhandle him the way he had.
Ezra began to shiver uncontrollably as the adrenalin rush he'd been functioning on suddenly left him. Every inch of his exposed skin was numb and even the fever burning through his body couldn't keep the cold from settling in and sapping his meager supply of strength. He stared at the huge man standing in front of him and straining to keep his voice from shaking asked, "What game are we playing now?"
Parker gazed silently back at the gambler for a few minutes before answering him. "No game this time, little man... we're just going to make sure that you can't try to run anymore." With an evil smile spreading across his face, he removed the belt from around his waist and began slowly swinging it back and forth. Ezra stared in horror at the huge buckle on the end of the belt as he realized what the man intended to do.
Ezra's whole body tensed as he tried to brace himself for the beating he was about to receive, but nothing could have prepared him for the pain that exploded in his leg as the buckle sliced through the material of his pants and buried itself in the flesh beneath. Ezra's jaw clenched as he struggled to hold back the scream of pain that tried to force it's way out of his throat, knowing that it was exactly what Parker was waiting to hear. Ezra jerked and kicked as his tormentor concentrated the blows on his legs, sometimes using the buckle, sometimes just the leather belt to inflict the damage. The groggy conman felt something wet hit his shoulders and looking up saw blood dripping from under the cuffs where his skin was rubbed raw by the twisting and turning of his body. His fingers tightened around the leather strap that he was fastened to as he tried to take some of the weight off his torn and bleeding wrists. His body jerked as the next lash of the belt wrapped itself around his left leg and the scream he'd been holding back finally erupted as the buckle connected just above his injured ankle. The leather of his boot kept the metal from breaking the skin, but did nothing to soften the jarring impact to his broken bones. The searing pain that tore up his leg and enveloped his body pushed Ezra to the edge of the void. His mind felt it coming... recognized it as the dark peaceful place he'd been to before... the place where there was no pain... no fear. As his eyes drifted shut, Ezra saw the belt whipping toward him one more time... knew the pain was coming for him... and with one final anguished cry that echoed only in his mind... 'Chris...for God's sake help me!!'... Ezra let himself slip over the edge into the welcoming darkness.
Chris peered out from the shelter of the trees, saw that the wind had died down some and decided they couldn't afford to wait any longer. After some arguing on Buck and Vin's part he told them in no uncertain terms he was going whether they went with him or not. He led his horse out of the trees, mounted and turned to wait impatiently for the others.
After looking around and confirming with Randall that they were indeed still on the right trail to the cabin, Vin mounted and moved up to talk to Chris.
"How long's he think it'll be til we reach the cabin?" Chris asked as he glanced over at the tracker.
"Hour... maybe two. Depends on how bad the trail's snowed in." Vin knew it wasn't what the gunslinger wanted to hear, but it was the best guess Randall could give them under the circumstances. "You know, he can't... Chris? Somethin' wrong?" Vin had seen his friend shiver and get a tense, almost frightened look on his face.
Chris stared at him as he debated on whether he should tell him what he thought he'd just heard. Finally he shook his head. "No, nothin'... Let's just hurry, we've wasted enough time." How could he tell Vin that he'd swear he just heard Ezra's voice... 'Chris, for God's sake help me!!'
Parker watched his victim's body go limp as he slipped into unconsciousness, smiling in satisfaction at the sight of the blood dripping from his torn legs staining the pure white snow beneath him a deep crimson. He bent and used a handful of snow to wipe the gambler's blood from his belt before replacing it around his waist, staggering slightly as he straightened back up. Glancing down at the bullet wound in his side, he frowned to see that he was still bleeding heavily and realized Standish had done more damage than he'd at first thought. He moved slowly over to the still figure turning slowly at the end of the leather strap and wrapped his arm tightly around the slender waist before reaching up to unfasten the buckle, grunting as the conman slumped limply over his shoulder. Then he slowly made his way back to the cabin, his blood mingling with his victim's to leave a gruesome trail through the snow.
By the time he made it back to the cabin, Parker had weakened considerably from the blood loss and it took several tries before he was able to make it up the steps onto the porch. He stumbled through the door and dropped Standish on the chair, propping him forward against his large stomach as he refastened the belt around his waist and pushing him roughly back against the chair when he finished. He paused to catch his breath... the thought that he should see to his wound and try to stop the bleeding came to him but was just as quickly pushed aside by his insane desire to crush his victim. Grasping a handful of the smaller man's hair, he jerked his head up and slapped his face sharply several times until he finally started to come around. He watched with a perverse pleasure as the horror of having been returned to the hated chair after all he'd been through washed over the gambler's pale features.
"No... oh God no..." Ezra whispered as he became aware of his surroundings once more and realized that all the effort and pain he'd put into trying to escape had been for nothing. The terror of what he knew was coming flooded through him and he struggled weakly to stand, crying out sharply as the movement reawakened the incredible pain in his damaged legs. He looked up into Parker's face and gasped at the pure evil that shone in the man's eyes. Breathless with fear, Ezra watched as the huge man walked over to the sink and opened one of the drawers, his eyes never leaving his prey. His hand slipped into the opening and reappeared with a long, razor-sharp knife... the light glinting off the blade drew Ezra's gaze and held it as his sadistic tormentor slowly tapped it on the palm of his hand. His eyes stayed focused on Parker as he began to move across the cabin, his head swiveling to keep him in sight as he passed behind him on his way over to the opposite wall. Ezra felt the blood drain from his face as the madman bent and picked the discarded blindfold up from the floor, holding it out in front of him as he shook his head slowly back and forth.
"You don't listen very well, do you, little man?" Parker said softly as he stared first at the blindfold and then at Standish. "I warned you, didn't I?"
Ezra started to shake as his torturer began walking toward him, his eyes darting frantically between the knife and the blindfold. "Please... I'm sorry... I'll never... don't... please." He heard how pathetic he sounded and hated himself for begging, but the mind-numbing horror of what the man was about to do made it impossible for him to stop. His heart hammered in his chest and his fingers clutched at the chair seat as the huge man stopped in front of him and just stared into his terror-filled eyes.
Parker winced as a fierce pain stabbed through his side, but he knew he had Standish right at the breaking point and refused to give in to the weak feeling that washed over him. He held the blindfold up in front of the gambler's eyes and sighed dramatically. "Now what did I tell you I would do if you tried to get this off again?"
Ezra's eyes were riveted on the hated piece of leather dangling in front of his face. He could feel the fear welling up in his throat and swallowed convulsively as he struggled to bring his emotions under control... one thought repeating over and over in his mind... 'God please... not again... I can't go back into that darkness.'
Parker watched the raw emotions play across the smaller man's face and knew he had him. While his victim's attention was focused on the blindfold, he shifted his body to the left and slowly brought the knife up until the point of the blade was pressed against the gambler's cheek. Ezra's breathing stopped as he felt the cold steel biting into the skin just below his right eye.
"I asked you a question, little man... and I want an answer now! What did I tell you I would do if you ever tried to get that blindfold off again?!"
Ezra jumped when his tormentor yelled and felt the blade of the knife slice the delicate skin below his eye. He felt the blood trickling down his face as he struggled to answer Parker's question. "You... you said that...." His voice was choked with emotion as he felt himself losing the battle against the total despair that was threatening to overwhelm him. "That you'd... blind... blind me perm..." As tears flooded his eyes, Ezra's head fell weakly back against the chair and he began begging for his torment to stop. "oh God... I can't take anymore... please... I just... can't... take... any... more."
Parker smiled grimly as he watched Ezra helplessly crying... his spirit crushed... his will to fight gone. Tossing the knife over on the table, he moved back in front of the gambler and held the blindfold up again. "Get up here, Standish... now."
Ezra slowly raised his head up and stared straight ahead, the tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks... not caring anymore what happened... just wanting it to all be over.
"Right here, little man." Ezra never even blinked... he just obediently moved his head forward and pressed his face against the padded leather.
His tormentor saw the vacant look in his eyes and knew the game was over. As soon as he gathered up his things and saddled his horse, he'd kill Standish... leaving his body for his friends to find... a taunting reminder of how much he'd suffered before he died.
After fastening the blindfold tightly in place, Parker started packing his things back in the satchel and in his saddle bags. He was finding it harder and harder to breathe as he moved around the cabin and the air seemed to be getting warmer. Wiping the sweat from his eyes again, the large man finally decided he had to get outside and get some fresh air. The room spun as he wove unsteadily toward the door and he had to lean against it to catch his breath before he could finally open it and move out onto the porch. He shivered as the cold air hit his body and realized he was in serious trouble. Looking down, Parker frowned at the amount of blood soaking his clothing... now how did that happen? He slowly pulled his coat back and looked in amazement at the still bleeding wound. His mind tried to focus on how he'd gotten hurt... and he finally remembered. 'Standish... shot me with my own gun... underestimated the little bastard.' Staggering weakly and leaning heavily on the railing, he made his way slowly down into the yard. His chest heaved as he struggled to draw air into his failing lungs and his legs finally gave way as his strength left him, toppling him over into the snow. Parker knew he was dying.... he could feel the life flowing out of him... and as his chest rose and fell one final time his last conscious thought was of the man he'd left totally broken back in the cabin. 'Damn it... never got to finish the game... and watch Standish die.'
Ezra had listened as Parker moved around the cabin and felt the cold blast of air as he opened the door and went outside. He tipped his head back wearily against the chair and let his mind wander as he waited for Parker to return. 'Wonder what's takin' him so long... don't hear him choppin' wood... maybe he left?' But the gambler knew even in his fevered mind that that would never happen. He shivered as the cold air pouring through the open door swept continually across his feverish skin. 'Could've at least closed the door... s'cold... maybe I should go close it...' but then a voice surfaced through his confusion... Parker warning him of what would happen if he left the chair again... his hands clutched tighter at the seat and his heart began to pound... 'no... can't leave the chair... said it'd be worse than before.' Ezra shivered harder and turned his head toward the door, listening for any signs of Parker's return.
The storm was getting worse again by the time Randall finally motioned for them to stop. He waited until the others were all circled around him before pointing to a slight gap in the solid wall of trees that lined the side of the road. "It's through there... follow that path for about two miles or so and you'll find the cabin."
Chris just stared at him coldly before finally saying, "Lead the way."
"What?! I'm not going back there! Parker'll kill me for sure!" Randall tried to turn his horse away from the path, but Chris grabbed the reins and held him there.
"Parker's not the one you have to worry about."
Randall stared first at Larabee and then let his eyes touch each man who now circled his horse. He slumped in his saddle as he finally realized he had no choice... these men were not going on without him. He nodded once and as soon as the man in black released his horse, he turned and rode into the forest... the others anxiously following behind him.
Ezra felt himself getting weaker and forced himself to sit up straighter. His hands clung desperately to the chair and he strained to focus his mind on anything that would help him stay awake. He shifted in the seat and cried out sharply as pain shot through his legs... shuddering as he remembered the whipping he'd gotten for trying to run. 'Won't try that again... didn't do any good to run anyway.' Suddenly Chris' voice floated across his mind. 'Don't ever run out on me again.' Oh, God... what if Chris and the others didn't know he'd been kidnapped... what if they thought he'd run instead? Ezra's eyes filled with tears as Chris' voice echoed through his head... 'run out on me.' Could they actually believe he'd do that again? Is that why they hadn't come after him? One lone tear escaped from the confines of the blindfold to trickle slowly down his cheek as he whispered, "didn't run this time, Chris... wasn't my fault... you've got to believe me."
The seven men had ridden silently through the trees, each lost in their own thoughts and worries about what they'd find when they got to the cabin. Suddenly Vin reined in his horse and moved off the path into the trees.
"What is it?" Chris called after him as he saw him dismount and stoop down to look at something in the snow.
Vin looked back at the other men and hesitated for a second before answering. "Blood... lot's of it, maybe a couple hours old. Trail of it follows alongside the path."
The others saw him look around at the snow for a minute and then stare up at the branch hanging overhead. He reached up and touched the branch, then remounted his horse and hurried back over to his anxiously waiting friends.
"Well, what'd you find?" Chris knew by the look on Vin's face that it wasn't good.
"Branch overhead's had something... or somebody... tied to it recently." Vin watched as understanding dawned on all of their faces.
Without another word they turned and began moving once more along the path. A new sense of urgency quickened their pace and within minutes they were at the edge of the clearing. They immediately spotted the body lying in the snow near the cabin and knew by its size that it was probably Parker.
"Anybody in there with him?" Chris asked their prisoner, never taking his eyes off the cabin.
"No. He was working alone... except for me." Randall added the last part guiltily after Buck shot him an accusing glare.
Tethering the horses to the trees, and with guns drawn, the men made their way slowly and cautiously across the clearing. Nathan bent to check the body of Parker, found the bullet wound and no pulse and shook his head at Chris. As one they moved toward the cabin. Quietly they moved up onto the porch and lined up on both sides of the open doorway. Chris glanced over at Vin and with a quick nod of his head they stepped quickly into the cabin... and stopped dead in their tracks at the horrific sight that met their eyes.
They felt the others pushing in behind them and heard their soft curses as they saw the bruised and bloodied form of Ezra seated on a chair in the center of the room. They could see him turn his head slightly and tremble as he heard them enter the room, but he never spoke a word or attempted to move from the chair.
Chris and Vin took a step towards Ezra but Nathan grabbed them and pushed everyone quickly back out of the cabin and quietly closed the door.
"What are you doin', Nathan? Let's get him outta there!" Buck started to move back toward the door, but Chris stopped him.
"What do you think we should do, Nathan?" Chris asked as he kept his hold on Buck's shoulder.
"Well... he's scared, he's probably confused, and he thinks we left him here not caring what Parker did to him . This might sound crazy, but I think Randall should be the one to go in first." Nathan got the reaction he expected to his announcement.
"Randall?!" Buck and Chris exclaimed at the same time, staring at Nathan as if he'd lost his mind.
Nathan raised his hands to calm them before answering. "Ezra knows he's workin' with Parker, and he helped 'im the last time he was here... so he'd probably listen to him before he would any of us. You gotta remember, he's had it drilled into his head that we're glad he's gone and ain't comin' for 'im. He's either gonna be scared to death of us or madder'n hell. Either way he's liable to react badly if he hears our voices first. "
Chris scowled at Nathan, but knew he was probably right. He turned to Randall and nodded toward the cabin. "All right... we'll go along with what Nathan says... but you'd better get him convinced that you lied to him before or you're gonna wish Parker had gotten his hands on you after all."
Randall nodded nervously and looked at Nathan for any instructions he might have.
"Talk quiet to 'im and remind 'im who you are. Then before you do anythin' else... get that damn blindfold off a 'im. And then explain to 'im what Parker made you do." Nathan nodded toward the door, indicating that he was done and that Randall should get going. He was anxious to get in their and examine Ezra and see what kind of damage had been done to his friend. He could already tell by the small glimpse he'd had that it was bad... real bad.
Randall moved slowly into the room, stopping a few feet away from Standish and staring in horror at the additional injuries he'd incurred since he'd last seen him. Finally, after an angry whisper from Larabee to get going, he moved a few steps closer and finally spoke. "Mr. Standish? Can you hear me?"
Ezra had heard someone come into the cabin before and was sure Parker had finally returned to continue the torture. He had listened in confusion as whoever it was left again without saying a word. He trembled and clutched at the chair as he listened to the voice... it sounded familiar... but his feverish mind was having trouble remembering where he'd heard it before. "Do I know you?"
Randall moved closer when he heard the gambler's shaky voice respond to him. "I was here before, Mr. Standish... I helped you after Parker beat you. Do you remember?"
Ezra vaguely recalled someone helping him up off the floor and over to the cot. Then kind words and a gentle touch as his wounds were tended to. He nodded slowly as the man asked him again if he remembered.
Randall saw the nod and moved over to place his hand on the smaller man's shoulder. He felt Ezra jump at his touch and spoke soothingly to calm him. "It's all right, Mr. Standish... I'm here to help you. Let's get this blindfold off of you, okay?"
Randall reached for the buckle at the back of the gambler's head but was startled as he jerked his head away and whispered a soft "no."
"It's all right... Mr. Parker told me to take it off of you. He wants it removed now."
Ezra thought about what he'd said and finally moved his head back to allow Randall access to the strap. He moaned softly as the buckle dug into his head but didn't move until the blindfold was off. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, Ezra looked up at the man who was helping him and whispered, "thank you."
Randall merely nodded, his guilt at being partially responsible for the gambler's ordeal making it impossible for him to respond. He eased the smaller man forward and reached down to undo the belt that held his arms in place before carefully unfastening the manacles from around each torn and bloody wrist. Then he knelt in front of the chair and began speaking gently, telling him how he'd lied about his friends because Parker had forced him to. That they'd actually been looking frantically for him since the day he was taken.
Ezra's eyes never left Randall's face as he explained that everything he'd been told was lies. He shook his head in denial... but listened as Randall again told him that it had all been lies... that his friends were here now to help him. Ezra wanted to believe him, but his mind was so clouded by his fever and everything he'd been through that it was hard for him to concentrate on what the other man was saying. Did he actually mean that Chris and the others were here? They hadn't abandoned him? He stared intently into Randall's eyes, trying to see the truth there and didn't see him motion for Chris to come closer.
Ezra's eyes followed Randall as he moved off to his right and he never realized Chris was kneeling in front of him until he felt a touch on his arm and heard his name spoken softly. Ezra turned his head at the sound of the familiar voice, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of his friend's face. "Chris?" Ezra breathed as he lifted one tentative hand to touch the figure before him, afraid it was just a dream.
"I'm here, Ezra," he whispered as he felt the shaking hand brush across his cheek and saw the familiar green eyes fill with tears.
"Oh... God.. Chris..." Ezra's shaky hold on his emotions finally gave out and he collapsed with a heart-wrenching sob into his friend's waiting arms.