Nathan had just finished wrapping the bandages around Ezra's chest when Mary and Inez dropped off the food they'd promised. Chris held the younger man while Nathan slowly fed him the broth... stopping occasionally to make sure he was going to be able to keep it down. It was a struggle, but Ezra finally managed to get the whole bowlful eaten. The healer decided to let him rest while he and the others ate their food and then he'd take care of his legs and get him settled in the bed. Chris pulled the gambler back against him and kept one arm around him while he ate and then while Nathan cleaned up his legs again. Two of the deeper wounds needed to be restitched and he had to loosen the bindings on the splints, but he finally finished and moved to ready the bed for him.
After layering several blankets beneath him, they were finally able to get the southerner comfortable enough that he was able to lie on his back. They folded two more blankets and placed one under his injured ankle and one under his right arm to cushion the painfully swollen stab wound and then covered him with two more to ward off the chill that was accompanying his high fever. Nathan settled himself beside Ezra on the bed, constantly bathing his now sleeping patient's face and neck with a cool cloth.
"Why don't y'all find someplace to stretch out and get some sleep. You look dead on your feet and I don't need no more patients to be takin' care of." Nathan scowled at every one of them to let them know he was serious and just pointed his finger menacingly at Chris when he opened his mouth to argue.
Chris glared at him for a minute and then shook his head as he settled himself on the floor near the bed. "You just make sure you wake me when you get tired... and don't wait too damn long to do it. We don't need you gettin' sick either."
Nathan nodded and turned his attention back to Ezra who was tossing his head fretfully back and forth on the pillow, mumbling incoherently as the fever burned even hotter. "Shhh now... it's all right..." The healer gently ran the cool cloth across the smaller man's face while murmuring softly to him, soothing him both with his touch and his words. "Just rest now... we're all right here with ya." Ezra's anxious muttering slowed and then stopped altogether as he finally drifted off to sleep. The others scattered around the room all sighed in relief and let themselves sink into the same exhausted sleep... all except Nathan who continued to wrestle with the fever that was slowly draining every ounce of strength the gambler had left. For three days and nights the six men took turns fighting to keep their friend and brother with them. Constantly bathing him with cool water, forcing broth and the healing herbs down him whenever he was lucid enough to swallow them, and soothing him through the nightmares that still ripped him from sleep... leaving him trembling and sobbing as he relived all the horrible things that had been done to him.
The townspeople all knew the battle that was being waged for that one precious life and respectfully kept their distance. Mary and Inez kept a supply of food and coffee coming to the clinic and kept the men informed about what was happening in the town, but otherwise did not try and intrude on the vigil the men kept over Ezra.
Early on the fourth morning after they'd returned home, Chris was sitting beside the bed... one hand holding the book he was reading, the other wrapped around Ezra's limp hand. His fever had finally broken the night before, but he had yet to regain consciousness. The others were all still sleeping, still scattered around the room... refusing to leave until they were sure the southerner was going to make it. Chris' thumb was idly moving across the back of Ezra's hand, stroking gently... hoping to reach through the darkness the younger man was lost in to provide some small amount of comfort. Suddenly he let the book fall to his lap and looked up, staring intently at the hand resting in his. There it was again... a slight flexing of the fingers as they seemed to try to wrap themselves around his. His eyes moved up to scan the gambler's face, searching for any sign that he was finally awakening.
Chris had just about decided that the movement of the conman's fingers had only been a muscle spasm when he saw his eyelids flutter. "Ezra... can you hear me?" He leaned forward and gently stroked the younger man's face as he encouraged him to wake up. "Come on, Ezra... open your eyes for me." He watched as the gambler struggled against the darkness for several moments and then finally eased his eyes open.
"Chris?" His voice was raspy, his throat raw and sore from the screams that had erupted from him during his nightmares. He blinked several times, trying to bring the gunslinger into focus.
"Here, Ezra... this should help." Chris slipped his hand beneath the gambler's head and raised it up slightly before placing a cup of Nathan's herbal brew to his lips.
Ezra sipped slowly, grimacing at the taste but thankful for the soothing relief it provided his parched and scratchy throat. When Chris saw he'd had enough, he took the cup away and eased his head back down on the pillow. Taking the damp cloth lying on the bed table he began wiping the sweat from the younger man's face and neck while he waited patiently for him to get his bearings. When he finally saw the dazed look begin to leave his eyes, he smiled and spoke softly to him. "You with me now, Ezra?"
The gambler stared at him a moment longer and finally managed a small tired grin in return. "I think so... how long have I... been asleep?"
"Well, we've been back four days and you've pretty much been out of it the whole time." Chris glanced across Ezra and saw Nathan quietly picking his way across the sleeping bodies on the floor. He'd been lying on the cot on the other side of the room and had been roused by their voices, the huge smile on his face expressed his obvious joy at seeing his patient finally awake. The healer lowered himself carefully to sit beside Ezra and reached out a large gentle hand to feel his face and neck, checking for any sign of the fever's return.
Relieved to find none, he dropped his hand down on the bed beside him and gently wrapped it around Ezra's, squeezing it lightly. "How ya feelin'?"
"Better... I think... so damn weak..." Ezra fought against the incredible weariness that just wouldn't let go of him... he was just so tired of feeling bad.
Nathan and Chris could see the struggle he was putting up just to keep his eyes open.
"You're bound to be weak, Ezra... it's gonna take time t' get your strength back. You're gonna need lots a sleep... don't be givin' me that look..." Nathan grinned as Ezra scowled at the mention of sleep... the gambler hated to be laid up in bed for any length of time no matter how bad he felt. "And we need t' get some food in ya. Think you could manage a little broth if I got it for ya?"
Ezra started to say he wasn't hungry but he saw the worried look on their faces and merely nodded instead. And he was glad he did when he saw the huge smile of relief that appeared on Nathan's face before he left to fetch the broth.
Chris smiled as he watched the healer hurry out of the clinic then chuckled as he looked back at Ezra. "Well, you just made his day."
Ezra returned the smile. "It's the least I could do after all the worry I seem to have put him through." He turned his eyes down to stare at his hand which still rested in Chris'. He thought briefly about pulling his hand away, but he was surprised to realize that he really didn't want to... he enjoyed the warm feeling it gave him. Then he turned his head on the pillow and gazed around the room at the other five sleeping men. "They been here the whole time?"
"Yep. Wouldn't leave til they knew you'd be all right." He saw Ezra frown slightly and look around the room again. "What's wrong?"
"I seem to remember someone else being there when you found me. The one who took the... the blindfold off me." He paled slightly at the memory of the cabin and squeezed the gunslinger's hand to remind himself that he was safe.
Chris returned the squeeze and watched Ezra's face carefully as he told him about Randall. "Yeah... he was working with Parker. He helped him grab you from your room." He saw the gambler's eyes glaze over at the mention of Parker and reached up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently to soothe him. "You okay?"
Ezra nodded and closed his eyes, concentrating on the gunslinger's voice as he struggled to block out the fear that coursed through him at the mention of his tormentor.
"His name was Jacob Randall and he said he didn't know what Parker had planned for you. He's the one that came to the cabin and told you the lies about overhearing us in the saloon. Parker had told him what to say and by then he wanted out, but he was too afraid of that sonofabitch to not do what he said. He says he helped you after one of the beatings... do you remember that?"
Ezra nodded again and shuddered at the memory of that particular beating and of the pain he'd suffered afterward. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes again and struggled to keep them from falling. "He tried to tell me he lied, didn't he?"
"Yeah, but he thought you were too out of it to hear him." Chris saw the sweat beading up on the younger man's face and moisture glistening on his lashes as he fought the emotions that were threatening to get away from him again.
Chris dampened the cloth and began gently wiping the sweat off Ezra's face as he talked. "He decided he couldn't take what Parker was doing to you and came back here to let us know where you were. He's the one that lead us to the cabin." He saw the gambler flinch as he mentioned Parker and the cabin again but he still didn't open his eyes. Chris knew he was just trying to keep the tears from starting again.
"And where is Mr. Randall now?" Ezra asked softly, his voice shaking with the effort of trying to keep the memories of what had happened from flooding his mind.
"He managed to knock Josiah out and get away while we were still at the cabin. We'll get him back though, don't worry." Chris put the cloth down but continued to smooth the younger man's hair back, trying to calm him.
"Don't. Just let him go. If it weren't for him... you might never have found me in time." Ezra's voice broke as he uttered those last words and he finally opened his eyes and stared up at Chris, the tears he'd worked so hard to hold back falling as the realization of just how close he had come to dying finally hit him.
Chris stared into those emerald eyes and saw the horror of what had almost happened shining brightly through the tears. Without a word he leaned forward and gathered Ezra carefully into his arms, rocking him gently back and forth as he cried. Chris felt his own eyes burn with unshed tears as he felt the younger man clinging to him, his shoulders shaking with the sobs that tore through him again. "I am so sorry we weren't there to stop it, Ezra. We're all going to do everything we can to make it up to you... I promise."
Nathan entered with the broth just as the others woke and hurried to help the gambler. One by one they joined Chris in whispering a heartfelt apology for not being there for him when he needed them... each of them stroking his hair, gently rubbing his shoulders, or just giving the comforting touch of their hand on his.
It took a while but they finally got him calmed down and after sternly calling a halt to his apologies for his outburst, they even managed to help Nathan get most of the bowl of broth into him. Chris settled him back down in the bed, tucking the covers snugly up under his chin and they all breathed a sigh of relief as he immediately drifted into a deep and thankfully, dreamless sleep.
Ezra was sitting outside Nathan's clinic, enjoying the feel of the sun beating down on him. The weather had slowly improved after they'd returned to town, and the town was now enjoying an early spring. It had been a month since his ordeal and this was the first time he'd ventured outside. He'd had to use a crutch because of his still mending ankle, but he still had made it out to the bench under his own power with Nathan following right behind him, ready to help if he needed it. The healer had fussed over him after he'd gotten settled making sure he was warm enough and instructing him to call out when he wanted to go back to bed, not to try walking on his own. Ezra had smiled and reassured Nathan that he would be fine, all the while gritting his teeth against an uncontrollable urge to shout at the healer to stop smothering him.
It was three long weeks before Nathan would even allow Ezra out of bed, and then for only short periods of time. He wasn't about to let him out of his control until he had his weakened body built back up. The gambler had never been a big eater and left to his own judgement, he would never consume enough food to put back the weight he had lost. He was surprised that Ezra hadn't put up more of an argument than he had, but just assumed it was because his injured legs were still too painful to support him for very long.
Ezra knew everyone was amazed at his quiet acceptance of Nathan's orders for him to stay at the clinic. Usually by now he would have been driving the healer slowly insane with his incessant demands that he be allowed to recuperate in his own bed. He also knew they thought it was because of his legs that he willingly stayed where he was... and he was perfectly happy to allow them to go on thinking that.
Ezra had absolutely no intention of telling them that it was actually because he was afraid to go back to his own room... that just the thought of walking down that hall and reaching for the door knob made him break out in a cold sweat. He could still feel Randall's hands on his back, pushing him into that room... still see Parker's evil glare just before his world went dark and his nightmare began. He knew it would just give them one more reason to hover over him... one more thing to try and protect him from. And he'd pretty much had his fill of both of those. He knew he needed to talk about what he was feeling and what had happened to him, but he just couldn't do it with all of them there staring at him... worrying about him. And if he personally singled out just one of his friends to confide in, the others would surely be hurt. He'd had no idea having a family would be this complicated.
The first week of his convalescence he'd welcomed their constant attention, in fact he'd hungered for it. Having them around him at all times was the only thing that made him feel safe, the only thing that helped keep the nightmares at bay. But now that the dreams were coming less and less frequently and his health was improving, he was beginning to feel stifled by their unrelenting presence. Every time one of them asked him how he was, could they do anything for him, is anything wrong... he simply wanted to scream at them to leave him alone.
The gambler found the whole concept of belonging to a family extremely heartwarming now and was touched by their efforts to make sure he knew how much they cared for him, but it was simply a case of too much too soon. He needed time to adjust to the idea... time to get used to having people who actually wanted him around and cared what happened to him... time to make himself believe that it could possibly be true. He wanted to tell them to please let him have a little space to breathe, but he couldn't bear to hurt their feelings. Not after all they'd done for him.
Ezra had been on the bench for less than an hour when the first of the townspeople had noticed him and stopped to chat. The other men had told him how concerned everyone in town was when he was missing and how they'd continually inquired about his health while he was recovering. He'd had no idea that anyone in Four Corners other than Mary and Inez had any thoughts about him one way or another... just as one of the peacekeepers of the town... one with a decidedly checkered past. It had definitely added to his new-found sense of belonging... to his actually feeling that he had finally found a place to call home.
But as the afternoon wore on and one person after another stopped to talk or just to ask about his health, Ezra began to feel his newly reacquired hold over his emotions start to slip. He couldn't pinpoint the reason for his sudden nervousness, he just knew he needed to get away from all this well-meant attention. It had been over a week since his last bout of uncontrolled weeping and he'd hoped that was all behind him. No matter how many times they explained that it was perfectly natural, it still shamed him to have them see him helplessly sobbing into his pillow. It made him feel so weak and out of control. And now after nine blissful days of no tears, they were threatening to fall once more.
Chris was standing on the boardwalk in front of the sheriff's office watching Ezra. He'd seen several of the townsfolk stop to speak to the gambler and at first had been pleased that they were letting him know that he had been missed while he'd been gone. But he began to notice that Ezra seemed to be enjoying the experience less and less. He kept glancing back at the clinic door, nervously fidgeting on the bench every time someone walked past. Chris saw Mrs. Potter headed toward the stairs and watched as Ezra began to struggle with his crutch in an attempt to rise from the bench. He hurried over to intercept her and kept her busy talking while the conman made his slow and painful way back inside. Then as soon as he'd assured her that he'd tell Mr. Standish she'd been by, he went up to the clinic to talk to Nathan.
Chris walked in to find Nathan helping Ezra into bed, scolding him the whole time for not calling for him to help like he'd been told. The gunslinger watched Ezra's face closely and saw the strained look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and realized that the gambler was just about at his breaking point. He hurried to distract the healer before he pushed the smaller man into saying something he would regret later. Ezra shot him a watery look of gratitude as he slumped back in the bed, exhausted by the emotions that he was trying so hard to control.
Nathan followed the gunslinger outside after giving Ezra one last warning to stay in the bed. Chris glanced back at the southerner before closing the door and was not surprised to see him already curled up under the blankets, his head buried in the pillow. He could tell he was battling his feelings again and it was taking it's toll on his still fragile health.
"I swear... that man just won't listen to me!" Nathan began complaining the minute the door was closed. "You'd think he'd want to do anythin' he could to get outta here and back to his room and the saloon."
"I don't think he's ready for that yet, Nathan. Have you watched his face when anyone mentions him goin' back to his own room? I think he's scared." Chris sat down on the bench and stared up at Nathan as he talked. "And I also think he's having a problem with everyone crowding him too much."
"Why would he be scared of his own room? And I thought he was enjoyin' all the attention?" Nathan sat down beside Chris and thought about what the gunslinger had said. "But now that you mention it, he ain't been beggin' me to let him go back to his own bed like he usually would. You think he's havin' flashbacks to when Parker and Randall took him?"
Chris nodded. "Yeah, I think that's exactly what's happening. And I was across the street watchin' him while he was sitting out here... he started out fine, talking to anyone that stopped. But the more people he had to deal with, the more nervous he seemed to get. When he saw Mrs. Potter coming I saw him trying to get up and get back in the clinic, so I got her talking and gave him a chance to get inside. I think it's just all too much for him to handle at one time."
Nathan shook his head, disgusted with himself for not noticing Ezra was having problems. "I guess I was just hopin' he'd make it through this whole thing in one piece and I just didn't want to see that he was havin' trouble dealin' with it all."
"Don't beat yourself up over it, Nathan. You know Ezra's pretty good at hiding his feelings... the only reason I noticed was because I've been through it before. I saw those same looks he's getting on his face every time I looked in the mirror." Chris hesitated for a minute and then glancing at Nathan, continued. "You know... I might have an idea that would help him. Why don't you let me take him out to my cabin for awhile. It would give him a chance to get away from everyone and catch his breath. Maybe talk about what happened."
Nathan stared at him, thinking. "That might be just what he needs... some peace and quiet. But do ya think he'll talk to ya?"
Chris shrugged. "I don't know, but it's worth a try. We've got to do something to help him, he can't keep goin' on like this. And I actually think he wants to get it all out, just not in front of all of us. That might be just too overwhelming for him. Especially since he's not used to talkin' about his feelings."
"You could be right. And he does seem to've connected with ya since we found 'im... he might just open up to ya." Nathan looked at the door to the clinic and then back at Chris. "You want'a ask 'im or do ya want me to?"
"I'll do it. Just keep everyone else out til I'm finished... he's had enough company for one day." Chris stood up, took a deep breath and entered the clinic.
Chris stood just inside the door and stared over at Ezra still curled up in the bed. He hoped like hell his idea worked, something had to give with the gambler... and soon. He definitely couldn't keep going on the way he was, he needed to get his life back.
The gunslinger walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He was surprised to see that Ezra was still awake. "You okay?"
Ezra looked up at him and slowly shook his head. He sighed wearily as he carefully rolled over onto his back. "And please don't ask me what's wrong because I have absolutely no idea."
Chris straightened the blankets when the younger man got settled, stalling as he figured out the best way to make his suggestion. It was never easy to predict how Ezra would react to anything, and now with his emotions in the mess they were it was even harder.
"Well, for one thing Nathan and I think maybe you need to get away from all the attention you've been getting here. Just to have a little quiet time for awhile... maybe do some talking." Chris watched his face, trying to gauge his reaction to the idea. "What do ya think?"
Ezra stared at the bedcovers as he thought over what Chris had said. "Where did you have in mind?"
"My place. It's not much, but no one would bother you out there and maybe we could talk if you feel like it." Chris reached out and rubbed the younger man's arm. "You need to talk about it, Ezra... or you'll never be able to put it behind you."
Ezra nodded and looked up at Chris, his green eyes swimming with tears again. "I know... you're right. I want to at least try... I can't live like this." He reached up to brush the tears off his cheeks and gave Chris a crooked grin. "Hell, I couldn't even make a living playing cards in my present condition. How would I ever be able to run a bluff if I'm goin' to burst into tears every time I get a bad hand?"
Chris laughed and gave Ezra's arm a squeeze before getting up. "Get some rest and we'll go out to my place first thing tomorrow."
"Chris?" The gunslinger turned and looked back at Ezra as he opened the door. "Thanks."
Chris smiled and gave Ezra a small nod. "No problem. That's what family's for."
The next morning, after much arguing on Nathan's part, Ezra was helped up onto his horse.
"Don't know why you gotta be so damn stubborn. Wouldn't've killed you to take a buggy out to Chris'. If you mess this ankle up again, don't even think 'bout comin' to me to fix it for ya." Nathan grumbled as he adjusted the stirrup for the third time, making sure the gambler was as comfortable as he could be. He fastened Ezra's crutch to the saddlebag, glared up at him one last time and stepped back up on the boardwalk with the other men.
"I assure you Mr. Jackson, I'll be just fine. I have no intention of doing anything that would undermine the excellent care you've given me. " Ezra smiled down at him, trying to erase the worried look on the healer's face.
Nathan shook his head at the conman in exasperation, then shot Chris a warning look. "You make sure he stays off that foot as much as possible, and make sure he eats and takes the medicine I gave you." He looked back at Ezra and pointed his finger at him. "If I come out there and you're not doin' exactly what I told you to, you're comin' right back here to the clinic and stayin' til you're completely well."
Ezra stared at the healer for a moment, trying hard not to laugh at the sight of him standing there shaking his finger at him. He finally got control of himself and solemnly told him, "I promise, Nathan. I'll do everything you told me to. Don't worry."
"Well, you ready?" Chris asked as he mounted his horse.
Ezra nodded and with a tip of his hat to the men standing on the boardwalk, he turned his horse and rode slowly down the street beside the gunslinger.
They'd only gone a few yards when Ezra turned, glanced back at Nathan and the others, shot Chris a grin and suddenly urged his horse into a gallop. Nathan's angry shouts and threats followed him as he raced down the street and out of town.
Chris didn't even look back at Nathan, he didn't dare. He knew the hell he'd pay if the healer saw him laughing at what Ezra had done. He just threw his hand up as a sign to Nathan that he'd take care of it and hurried to catch up to the conman and slow him down before he really did hurt himself.
Ezra was waiting for him just on the outskirts of town. The gambler had a huge satisfied grin plastered on his face when Chris caught up to him.
"You realize you're going to pay for that when Nathan comes out to check on you." Chris couldn't help but smile at the boyish look of pure pleasure that adorned the younger man's face. It had been too long since he'd seen him happy, and it was worth any amount of chastising they'd have to suffer from Nathan just to witness that look.
"Oh, I know Mr. Larabee, and I will humbly apologize and beg his forgiveness when I see him again," Ezra laughed. "But the opportunity to tease our overly conscientious healer was just too tempting for me to resist."
Chris glanced back toward town and then looked back at Ezra. The conman was still grinning, but he could see the quick flash of pain that swept across his face as he reached down and absently rubbed his injured leg. He was far from being a hundred percent and Chris knew that by the time they arrived at the cabin, he would be feeling the effects of the ride. "Well, let's get on out of here before Nathan decides to come after us. If he catches you, he'll have you back in that clinic and hog-tied to the bed before you can even begin to apologize."
They eased their horses into a slow walk and headed out, quietly enjoying each other's company and the soothing warmth of the beautiful spring day.
Ezra had never been out to Chris' cabin before and he was mildly surprised at the hominess of it. The cabin itself wasn't very large, but it had a nice peaceful feel to it that made up for it's lack of size. Chris stopped the conman as he struggled to dismount and ordered him to sit still until he could help him down. Ezra sighed in exasperation but waited while the gunslinger eased his injured foot out of the stirrup and untied his crutch from the saddlebag. Then leaning heavily on Chris' shoulder he lowered himself to the ground and took the crutch that he held ready for him.
Chris glanced at Ezra out of the corner of his eye as he helped him up on the porch, steadying the smaller man as he eased himself down onto one of the chairs and was a little worried at the way he looked. His face was unusually pale beneath the now yellowing bruises and was coated with a light sheen of sweat. He was breathing heavily and Chris could see his hands shake as he leaned the crutch against the house behind him.
"You okay there, Ezra?" The gunslinger reached out and placed his hand against the gambler's forehead and cheek, frowning when he felt the warmth of his skin. "Fever's back."
Ezra leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "I must admit, the ride was a bit more tiring than I had anticipated." His eyes sprang open and he looked quickly up at Chris. "But if you attempt to inform Nathan that I said that, I'll firmly deny every word."
"Tell you what... I'll keep my mouth shut if you'll let me take you inside and get you settled for a nap after I get the horses taken care of. Deal?" Chris fully expected the younger man to argue with him and took it as a sign of the extent of his exhaustion when he didn't. He merely nodded and closed his eyes again.
Chris carried the saddlebags inside and then led the horses over to the corral, unsaddled them and turned them loose, closing the gate behind them. He'd finish taking care of them while Ezra was sleeping.
"Ezra? Come on, pard... let's get you inside." Chris roused the conman and helped him up, settling his crutch under his arm and following along behind as he limped into the cabin.
Ezra was so tired, he didn't even have the energy to examine his new surroundings. Chris led him over to the bed, sat him down and proceeded to help him undress. Once he got his outer clothing and his guns removed, he helped him lay back on the mattress and removed his one boot. Then after propping his injured foot up on a pillow he covered him with a light blanket, closed the curtains to darken the room, and left to finish with the horses. By the time he returned, the younger man was sound asleep. Chris picked up a book, and leaving the door ajar in case Ezra woke and needed him, went out to settle himself on the porch to read.
Ezra'd only been asleep for a short while when he began to move his head fretfully back and forth on the pillow, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. His heart thundered in his chest as he felt the cold metal of the gun barrel pressed once more against his temple. 'No... oh God... no... not again... this can't be happening again!' His mind raced frantically as he heard the hammer being drawn back... 'I'm dreaming... I know I'm dreaming... why can't I wake up?'... 'Oh God please... someone wake me up!!' Then he heard it... Parker's voice hissing in his mind... 'Are you ready, little man?'... 'It's time to die now.' Ezra gasped for breath as the hammer fell...
Chris dropped his book and bolted for the door as Ezra's terrified screams ripped through the cabin.
Ezra was sitting up in the bed, his hands clutching wildly at his head, his screams turning to heart-wrenching sobs as he fought to pull himself out of the dream. Chris grabbed his arms and shook him lightly. "Ezra!! It's all right... it's just a dream. Come on now... you're all right!"
"Oh God... he shot me... the gun went off..." Ezra moaned as the sound of the gunshot echoed through his brain.
Chris managed to pull the smaller man's hands down away from his head and wrapping his arms around his trembling body, began to whisper softly in his ear. "Hush now. It's just a dream, Ezra... Parker's dead and the gun never went off. You've got to calm down now before you make yourself sick. Shhh... it's all right."
Ezra raised his head up and stared at Chris in confusion. "Chris? What happened? Did I..." Raising his hands up he felt the tears on his face and angrily brushed them away as he jerked himself out of the gunslinger's arms. "God, not again... I thought it was finally over."
Chris put his hand on the younger man's shoulder and began rubbing it slowly, trying to calm him down. "Ezra, it's gonna take time. After seeing what he did to you, we're all amazed that you've come as far as you have. And this nightmare was probably just caused by the stress of making the trip out here."
Ezra shook his head and whispered, "I just want it to stop. I don't know how much more of this I can handle."
"You want to tell me about your dream? It might help."
Ezra looked at him, his eyes still swimming with tears. "Did it help you?... to talk about yours, I mean."
Chris looked away as he thought about the question. He looked back at the younger man and saw the doubt in his eyes, the fear that nothing would help and the nightmare would never end. "Yeah, eventually. The dreams didn't stop right away, but it was easier to deal with them once Buck got me talking."
Ezra stared at him a moment longer and then uttered a shaky laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I've sure got nothing to lose by at least trying. It can't be any worse than waking up crying on your shoulder all the time."
"Something wrong with my shoulder?" Chris looked down at his still damp shirt and back at Ezra with a hurt look on his face and a twinkle in his eye.
"Um... no, of course not... a bit bony perhaps..." Ezra smiled as he rubbed a hand lightly over the fading bruises on his cheek.
"Well, will just have to fix it so you don't have any need to be grinding your face against it again. You want to sit here and talk or would you rather grab a cup of coffee and sit out on the porch?"
Ezra thought a moment and decided it might be easier to relive his nightmares out in the bright sunlight. "The porch and coffee sound good to me."
Chris helped him slide off the bed and balance himself with his crutch before going to grab a couple of cups of the coffee he always had brewing when he was home. He went outside, handed one of the cups to Ezra and settled himself in the chair next to him.
He sipped from the steaming mug and looked over at the younger man. Ezra was staring down into his cup, trying to find the words to describe the nightmare that still lingered in his mind.
Chris decided to help him along. "I take it your dream was about the Russian roulette incident?"
Ezra flinched at the mention of Parker's terrifying game that was the subject of most of his nightmares. He nodded and took a shaky sip of his coffee to settle his nerves.
Chris saw the southerner's hands shaking and stood up and walked back in the cabin, reappearing a moment later with his silver flask. He handed it to Ezra, who took it gratefully. He poured a large dose of it in his coffee and after offering some of it to the gunslinger, set it close by on the floor. Then he closed his eyes, took a long draw of the calming brew and hesitantly began describing the dreams that plagued him.
"The... dreams... are mostly the same. Either the Russian roulette episode or my last miserable attempt at escape ending with the... with the whipping." His hand absently rubbed his thigh, feeling the bandages that he still wore hidden beneath his trousers. "With some of Parker's other sadistic games making an occasional appearance, of course."
Ezra began to go into the details of his dreams... slowly at first, but soon the words were practically tumbling over each other as he tried to rid his mind of all the cruel and hateful things Parker had done and said to him. By the time he finally got to the part of his ordeal where he was being threatened with the loss of his sight, the tears were flowing unnoticed down his cheeks. His eyes were staring off at the distant mountains, but Chris could tell he wasn't seeing them.
"By that time, I'm ashamed to say, he had me completely convinced that you weren't coming... that all of you were relieved I was gone. I knew I was goin' to die... any hope I had that you all would show up to save me had been destroyed by Parker's constant reminders of what Randall had said he heard in the saloon. And by his statements as to the flaws in my disreputable character. By then I was convinced I wasn't worth saving... that it was just as well you'd all given up on me." Ezra turned his liquid green gaze on Chris as his voice lowered to an agonized whisper. "Chris, I've never felt so lost and alone in my entire life. Nothing in all my years of keeping people away, of being totally on my own, compared to that feeling of complete and utter desolation that seemed to devour my soul when I finally realized that absolutely no one cared what happened to me. That no one on this earth would miss me when I was gone."
Chris hadn't wanted to touch Ezra in fear of stopping him from finally getting all the pain of his nightmarish ordeal out. But the total despair and loneliness that shone in his eyes and filled his voice was more than the gunslinger could take. He left his chair and knelt before the younger man. After taking the coffee out of his hands and setting it on the floor, he wrapped his arms around the gambler and hugged him tight. "It's not true, Ezra... you were never alone because our hearts and minds were with you constantly." He pulled back slightly so he could look into the gambler's eyes. "I can understand you're believing his words then, with everything you were going through, but you do know now how wrong he was, don't you? We never would have stopped looking because it would have killed us to lose you!"
Ezra stared back at him, his eyes searching Chris', needing desperately to believe that what he said was true.
Chris returned his gaze unflinchingly, willing the gambler to believe him. "You know I've never lied to you, Ezra." Finally Chris saw acceptance at what he'd said appear on the southerner's face and a look of wonder brighten his eyes. "You believe me now? I know how hard it is for you to understand this whole family thing, you haven't exactly had the best examples of it in your life... but just give us a chance and we'll prove to you that you are a part of one now."
Ezra felt a deep sense of relief wash over him at Chris' words. He had wanted to believe that he was truly part of this family, that they really did want him here but his life long insecurities and everything Parker had drilled into his head kept him from really accepting it. He had been afraid they were just doing all they did for him out of a sense of guilt over what had happened.
Chris grasped Ezra's shoulders firmly and gave him a little squeeze. "Okay, have we got all that straight now? You are a part of the family... we do want you here... and we will probably drive you completely crazy with our efforts to prove it to you. Especially Buck and JD."
Ezra sat back in the chair and laughed as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. "They have been a bit over zealous in their attempts to pull me into the fold."
Chris stood to go after more coffee and smiled down at Ezra. "Well, if they get to be too much for you, just tell me and I'll try and rein them in a little."
"Actually, I have to admit that their enthusiasm for having me in the family is quite touching. But if they do begin to overwhelm me with it, I'll definitely let you handle them. I wouldn't have the heart to say anything for fear of hurtin' their feelings."
"Don't worry, I wouldn't let them know you said anything, I'd just distract them with a job or something til they calmed down some. And once they're sure they have you convinced you're a member of the family, they'll ease up on you." Chris patted him on the shoulder and went after the coffee.
When he returned, he had Ezra's deck of cards along with the fresh coffee. He handed the gambler the cup and then held the cards out to him. "Thought you might like to play a few hands of cards while we talk. Strictly for fun... I have no intention of losing what little money I have while you're here."
Ezra stared at the cards for a moment and then hesitantly reached out and took them. He was wondering if anyone had noticed that he hadn't touched them since he'd returned home... apparently Chris had.
"Mind telling me why you haven't asked for them since you've been feeling better?" Chris watched Ezra's face carefully while he moved the table he kept on the porch closer to the gambler. He grabbed his chair and sat down across from him sipping his coffee, waiting for an explanation.
Ezra set his cup down and slowly removed the cards from their box, riffling them stiffly through his fingers. It had been over a month since he'd handled them and he was definitely out of practice. He glanced up at the gunslinger and then quickly back down at the table. "I'm... I'm not really sure."
"Maybe the same reason you prefer staying at the clinic rather than going back to your own room?" Chris saw him flinch and knew he had pegged it right. "You're scared. Nothin' wrong with admitting to that."
"It's not something I even want to admit to myself." Ezra sighed and looked over at Chris. "I'm not even sure why I feel this way."
Chris stared down at the table, thinking, and then looked back up at Ezra. "You having any flashbacks to when they took you from your room? Or to the poker game that started the whole nightmare?"
Ezra nodded reluctantly. "It's been in some of my dreams. And now every time I think about walking down that hall to my room..." he shuddered slightly and had to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart before continuing. "I swear I can still feel Randall's hands on my back, shoving me into my room... still see Parker's face just before he hits me. And the game itself... I keep thinking back over all the other times I've caught someone cheating during a game and I wonder how close I've come over the years to having this same thing happen. And then I start worrying that it'll happen again... how long before the next Parker comes into my life." He set the cards down on the table and scrubbed his face roughly with his hands in an attempt to drive the memories away. "I just don't know if I can shake this fear now. It seems to have such a deep hold on me."
Chris reached over and picked up the cards, shuffling them slowly before dealing them out. "You can't live your life second-guessing yourself, Ezra. Believe me... I know. There's no way you could have known Parker was crazy or that he'd do what he did. Just like there's no way of knowing if it could ever happen to you again. The best you can do is live your life to the fullest and pray it doesn't." He looked up to see Ezra staring intently at him. "But next time, don't assume a threat against you is a bluff. You wouldn't brush off the fact that someone might be bluffing in a card game... don't do it with your life. We all made that mistake this time... but I promise you, it won't ever happen again." He paused and watched as some of the fear seemed to leave the gambler's eyes. With a silent prayer that his words had helped, he picked up his cards and shot a knowing grin across the table at Ezra. "Tell you what... how 'bout a little wager. If you lose this hand, you do the dishes the entire time you're here."
The gambler smiled confidently at him as he picked up his cards. "And if I win?" Ezra glanced down at his hand, frowned and then stared in amusement at the gunslinger. "Been practicing while I was gone, Mr. Larabee?"
The End