Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
Warning: This section does involve explicit scenes that are slash in nature (Rating NC-17)
He woke up to pain.
It moved through him in uneven jolts and it was a few seconds before Ezra Standish was able to register in his mind that it was moving in time to the pace of the horse he was presently astride. He had no idea how he had made it this far but was glad he was not been coherent enough for it. Ezra opened his eyes and thought he might be dreaming for a moment because under the fading light of day, he could see Four Corners in the distance. The sun was slowly sinking into an amber sea in the horizon, trailed closely by a translucent indigo canopy through which one could see the faint glimmer of the approaching night.
He tried straightening up in the saddle and felt another wrenching pain that started from his lower back and culminated in his stomach. The pain was so intense it tore a gasp of pain from him before he could stop himself. For a few seconds, he remained frozen in place; not daring to move even though the progress of the animal he was currently riding ensured that he felt every step it took. Ezra's breaths escaped him in short, shallow bursts as he tried to control the agony coursing through his body in relentless waves. Perspiration covered his skin and plastered his shirt to his body like a stifling sheath of canvas. He could feel the heat under his skin and knew that it was more than just the weather and his clothes making his swelter this way, he was feverish.
For a moment, he was at a loss of what to do. With Four Corner approaching closer with every passing moment, he began to panic, an action that was almost unheard of for him. He could not tell the others what happened to him. He just could not bear that. He could not stand the looks they would give him, the doubts that would form in their mind when they saw nary a mark on him other than the internal injuries he suffered. Julius was right; they would never see him in quite the same way again. It had taken them long enough to see past his con man façade to believe that he was one of them, not prone to run away at the first sight of trouble or at the first sniff of cash. Ezra did not think he could bear the look in their eyes if they knew about this too. It would be almost as bad as knowing that Julius had taken him and then discarded him like a strumpet in the night. His horror and humiliation were bad enough for Ezra to desire being spared that.
Yet he had to be realistic.
He was hurt and badly by the amount of slick stickiness he could feel in the part of him violated so brutally by Julius. He needed medical attention before this fever, no doubt the probable cause being some infection that had sparked because of his injuries, ravaged him to severely and he was unable to control the situation that had been forced upon him. The idea of going to Alex was out of the question, she simply would not understand the need for secrecy, not to mention the fact that she would have no idea how it felt to be a man and to have this done to him. No, Alex was not a good proposition at all.
It would have to be Nathan.
Nathan was a man of his word. If Ezra made him promise, he would say nothing. Nathan's opinion of him was not stellar anyway and if his assault lowered Ezra's standing in his eyes, it was something the gambler could live with. Besides, if he returned home first and took care of a few things, there was no reason for the healer to suspect what he had been through. Perhaps he would have his suspicions but he would not voice them without good reason. Nathan could be annoyingly self-righteous at time but the healer was not a man who accused others falsely without a good deal of evidence to support his assumptions.
Ezra wondered how long he had been riding on his own. He looked behind his shoulder and saw no one in the distance. No doubt one of Julius men had escorted him to Four Corners as far as possible before allowing the horse to continue onward alone. Horses could sense it when there were others of their own in close proximity and would generally head towards them because of some ingrained herd mentality that continued to survive despite domestication. He pressed his heels deeper into the flank of his mount and made the animal trot faster forward. The action was one he soon regretted because each step sent stabbing pain through his body until Ezra was almost on the verge of passing out.
Since that would not at all do, he pulled the reins with his trembling hands and made the animal return to its languid pace.
It took twice as long to return to Four Corners but the time spent in the endeavor proved useful because when he arrived in town, dusk had truly come and gone. Instead of going to the livery, he proceeded instead to his lodgings, hoping that no one saw him until he was able to return to his room and clean up. He had no intention of being seen bloodied and sore, not until he was ready anyway. Hopefully, Chris and the others would be searching for him and were not back in town yet. He prayed for his continued anonymity for the time being. The horse he had returned on was one provided by Julius so no one recognized it as his own when he tethered it to the hitching post. Had he been riding Chaucer, they would have known immediately that he was back and Ezra could not face that at this moment.
Entering the lodging house quietly, his movements were slow and deliberate. Fortunately, Mrs. Satler would be busy preparing supper for her tenants so he was able to make his way to his room without being seen. Each step was a new experience in pain and he had to fight to stay conscious. His head was swimming with dizziness and his stomach lurched periodically with bouts of nausea. Climbing up the stairs had almost made him give up the entire notion of going to his room and was a convincing argument about staying put on the staircase for the next month at least. Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of choice and so he forced himself the top of the staircase, his fingers almost leaving indentations on the banister because he was clutching it so hard to stay upright.
After what seemed like forever, he finally made it to his door. Fumbling through his pockets, grateful to find that his room key was still where it should be. His hands were shaking as he pushed the brass key into its slot and opened the door. Ezra almost fell in when he pushed it open and stumbled slightly past the doorway as his legs threatened to give out. He entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him, locking it from the inside before allowing the key to fall from his hand. The first thing he did was to collapse on his feather bed, allowing the soft mattress to caress his ravaged body with the first tender touch he had experienced since this had all began. What remained of his strength, bled right out of him and he was content to lie there for a time to rest.
As much as he wanted to go to sleep, he knew he could not. He could not risk the others finding him this way and he was forced to leave his bed once more. Ezra stripped out of his soiled clothes, the trousers in particular had the stain of blood and Ezra quickly shoved them under his bed, until he could think of a more permanent solution. He filled the washbasin with water and started cleaning himself of the blood, sweat and dirt accumulated during the last 24 hours. He could not even bring himself to think that there might be other fluids on his skin that was a result of the attack. That was too much for him in his present state of mind.
He began toweling himself off gently at first, careful not to aggravate his injuries any more than necessary. Most of the pain was center on the lower half of his body and as Ezra looked at himself in the mirror of the dressing table, he noted that there were no other marks on him other than the bruising on his hips. They were bruises left by Julius when he had been holding onto Ezra and the memory of Julius kneeling behind him returned with such powerful clarity that the gambler almost gagged there and then. He forced the terrible image away and resumed what he was doing, removing all traces of blood until his skin revealed no signs of violence. Ezra stared at himself again, feeling unsatisfied by that because he still did not feel clean. He continued to run the washcloth over his skin until his skin started to hurt and turn a shade of red.
Not clean. Not ever.
It made no sense but the words repeated itself in his head.
Never. Never. Never.
When Nicholas Serfonteine and his Klansmen had attacked him with a whip, Ezra had suffered his injuries with the knowledge that what he did saved Alexandra Styles' life. Later on, when he had been a victim of Isis and forced to endure tortures by Sekhmet, he had done so knowing that the creature Sekhmet had been insane. What had been done to him was the madness inspired by a thousand years of imprisonment and once again, he had never felt like this even though the effects of what happened stayed with him for a time.
This was entirely different.
He had been responsible. He had inspired Julius' attraction to him in order to learn more about the Citadel. He had brought this upon himself no matter how much he hated to believe that it could be true. It was not Julius fault that the man was a slave to his feelings when Ezra had given him every indication of reciprocating prior to the assault. Ezra forced the images of what he had seen in that mirror in that moment of clarity before everything that made any sense to his world was destroyed in a single powerful thrust
"You son of a bitch!" He screamed and smashed his fist through the glass. The pain felt good as it seared through his hand and knuckles because for one instant he did not have to feel the other pain that was coursing through his body. He stood there for a second, his hand bleeding, drops of blood on the floor, staring at himself and unable to explain why he could not stand looking at his reflection.
"You didn't have to do that to me!" He shouted angrily, his voice cracking. By the time he had repeated himself, he was sobbing and a few moments passed as Ezra felt his tears come freely. The pain in his hand had dulled to a far away sting and Ezra composed himself before cleaning his knuckles of more blood. He did not look at the broken mirror again. Instead, he got dressed quietly, putting on fresh clothes and yet feelings still as soiled as when he had first stepped into the room. The pain in his body had not lessened one wit and the fever that had him in its grip was still as prolific. His flesh felt as if it were simmering under his skin and knew that he had better get to Nathan soon.
While he could still stand.
Nathan Jackson had returned to town about half an hour before Ezra Standish had made his silent return to Four Corners. Their search for the gambler had been met with little success and the group was particularly gloomy. The thought of what might be happening to one of their number because of their failure preyed heavily upon all their minds. Chris in particular, seemed to take it the hardest because he was required to explain to Julia that they had come up empty. The gunslinger had gone to the Standish Saloon first and downed himself a stiff drink before he was capable of carrying out the task. Nathan did not envy him in the slightest. They had all shared a drink in the saloon; their chatter silent because there did not seem anything worth talking about that could alleviate their somber mood. Finally they had scattered because Chris was determined to resume their search the next morning at first light and it was a plan they all agreed with wholeheartedly. When one of them was missing, they all felt incomplete somehow even though they were all men who were used to being alone.
Nathan returned to his Infirmary after parting ways with the others. He was tired and dusty and looked forward to getting cleaned up. Rain had promised to come by later with some supper so he wanted to be partially civilized for her when she arrived. Nathan rounded the corner of the hardware store above which his clinic was situated and immediately stopped short when he saw Ezra leaning against the side of the stairs that led to set of rooms he occupied. The gambler appeared as if he was collecting his strength and Nathan need only see the glimmer of moonlight off his moist skin to know that the man was not well.
"Ezra! Where have you been?" Nathan called out, forgetting how tired he was as his healer's instincts kicked in and he was striding quickly towards the gambler. Upon reaching him, Nathan immediately put his hand on Ezra's elbow only to have the gambler yank it away viciously.
For a moment, Nathan did not know what to say in the face of that startling action. Ezra's eyes clouded over in a mixture of revulsion and horror that disappeared almost as soon as he had pulled away.
"Forgive me Mr Jackson," Ezra said quietly, scolding inwardly himself for his over reaction. "It's been a long night."
"No kidding," Nathan shook of the incident as Ezra began climbing up the stairs again. This time Nathan did not offer to help. "Where were you?" Nathan asked instead. "We've been tearing the country side looking for you."
"I was accosted by some associates of mine prior to my arrival in Four Corners. Apparently, one of them had some grievance with me over a straight flush and happened to hear in Purgatory that I resided in these parts. They kidnapped me last evening and attempted to string me up but fortunately," Ezra flashed Nathan a little smile. "I managed to talk them out of it."
"Not without getting hurt," Nathan retorted, unable to believe that story for some reason. "What happened to you?"
"While I was convincing them to let me go I took a tumble from the steed I chose as the mode of my escape." Ezra explained as he reached the top of the stairs and let out a sigh of relief at that particular ordeal being over. I think I may have injured my lower back considerably."
"I see," Nathan frowned and watched the ginger way Ezra was proceeding to know that such a thing was possible. However, the way Ezra had pulled away when he touched him earlier resurfaced and nagged at the healer for some reason. "Well let's get a look at you and make sure. You look to me like you have some kind of a fever."
Gingerly, he put his hand on Ezra's forehead and noticed the twitch in the gambler's normally imperceptible façade. It was almost as if Ezra did not want Nathan anywhere near him. Once again, Nathan was revisited by the feelings of their first meeting, when Ezra considered him nothing more than a colored ex-slave. Nathan fought the notion of believing the worst because they had been through too much in the last three years to make Nathan believe that Ezra had reverted to type.
"You're running a fever." Nathan responded after a moment.
"Perhaps there is some kind of a potion you could give me and call it a day? I am in enough pain to endure a medical examination as well." Ezra replied tautly.
"I'll try not to hurt you," Nathan retorted. "I just want a quick see." There was no way Nathan was letting Ezra out of his sight without examining. A fall from a horse was a serious injury indeed and while Ezra had given him no specifics, just seeing the way he moved told the healer that he had been hurt badly. It seemed like every step was agony and the way he way burning up gave Nathan real fears that there might be some internal bruising that had become infected. In this environment, infection was almost as bad as the injury itself and could kill a man if left unchecked.
"A very quick see," Ezra replied.
They reached the infirmary and Nathan opened the door, directing Ezra to the examination table. He pretended to hang up his coat and not notice the way Ezra simply recoiled at the idea of being examined. Nathan was starting to get very confused but amongst that lack of understanding there was an instinct of something dark and terrible, preparing to surface. Nathan lit the lamps in the room and flooded the space with light. When he turned around, he tried to hide his shock at how bad Ezra actually looked now that the room was properly illuminated. He was not merely feverish but pale and he was trembling though he was trying very hard to hide it.
"Goddamn Ezra," Nathan came forward immediately. "Get your shirt off I want to see if you've got any bruising when you fell. There might be some internal bleeding."
There was almost certainly internal bleeding, Ezra thought to himself but he was not about to impart how he knew that so absolutely. If Nathan believed it was from a fall then Ezra was not going to convince him of it other wise.
"Is that necessary?" Ezra asked making a halfhearted effort to pull off his dark coat.
"Damn sure its necessary. You could die." Nathan pointed out coming towards him.
Ezra opened to say something but never quite managed to get it out, instead, he continued removing his jacket and then his shirt. Something in his face made Nathan extremely cautious about handling him in any way. His body was just as pale as his face and under the light of lamp; Nathan spotted immediately the bruises on his hip. They did not seem very severe other than superficial but Ezra was clearly suffering from something. Ezra saw on the examination table, refusing to even lie down flat even though it was necessary for Nathan to do so. It was only after Nathan had made mention of it that he obeyed somewhat reluctantly.
What was he hiding? Nathan asked himself.
"Does that hurt?" He asked Ezra as he made an exploratory probe of the gambler's lower back. Just pressing lightly against the skin drew a sharp cry of pain.
"What kind of pain?" Nathan asked.
"Burning." Ezra said quietly.
Nathan paused and moved his hand lover along Ezra's spine. He immediately noted the tension in the gambler's muscles and questioned the sensibility of going any further. Ezra was like a spring about to snap. Nathan caught sight of his hands and felt his jaw drop in astonishment when he saw Ezra's nails digging so hard into his palms that there was actually blood. He made a few more perfunctory probes before Nathan finally withdrew.
"Alright, cut the bullshit, what happened to you?" Nathan demanded.
Ezra climbed off the bed abruptly. "I told you I fell." Ezra retorted, quickly reaching for his clothes. This was such a mistake! He should have gotten on a horse and ridden to Bitter Creek or Sweet Water for treatment. It was foolishness to try and think that Nathan would simply not notice.
"Like hell you did!" Nathan barked back. "Your injuries are not consistent with a fall. Now Goddamn it, what do I have to do to get you to tell me the truth! You know it won't go further than this room!"
"I said I fell!" Ezra insisted just as fiercely. He gripped the table for support because he was having trouble seeing. It felt as if his brain was boiling inside his skull.
"I can't help you if you don't tell me! Ezra, I need to know exactly how you were hurt." Nathan pleaded, sensing something awful and feeling helpless because he had no idea how to treat it or to help his friend.
Ezra was not listening. The gambler was steadfastly dressing himself and more than prepared to ride out of town to seek medical help if necessary. What had he been thinking coming to Nathan in the first place? "I am fine. If you do not wish to help me without these questions about my ordeal, then I will go elsewhere to find it."
"Ezra..." Nathan reached for him to stop him.
Ezra's reaction was extreme.
"Get your hands off me!" He fairly shouted and caught Nathan's hand before it could make contact with him. His other hand swung in a balled fist, stopping inches from connecting with Nathan's jaw. For a moment, time seem to freeze as both men stared at each other still locked in each other's grip. Nathan's face mostly registered shock while Ezra's was unfathomable and it was during those few seconds when Nathan looked into Ezra's eyes and saw the man's psyche hanging on the barest threads of tolerance did he understand.
"I'm sorry." Nathan disengaged himself from Ezra's grip and took a step back. "I'll give you something you can take. It should kill the infection before it gets any worse." The healer said sedately and then added, recalling the cuts he had seen on the fist that had almost struck him. "Le me fix your hand before you go."
Although he did not say it, Ezra could tell what Nathan suspected. "Do I have your word of honor that as far as you are concerned, I fell?"
"Yes." Nathan nodded slowly. "You fell."
"Good." Ezra nodded.
"Ezra, it isn't your fault..." He started to say.
"Exactly what isn't my fault?" Ezra glared at him. "The fact that I could do nothing to stop it? The fact that I had to just take it or that none of my so called friend were there to prevent this thing from happening?"
"Ezra, that ain't fair." Nathan spoke up but his words sounded weak and he did not know whether Ezra was entirely wrong. They should have been there. To prevent what Nathan suspected had happened to him, they had to be there and yet they weren't. "We had no idea you were even taken until morning. If we had..."
"It would not have made much difference." Ezra muttered and decided he had no wish to speak of this any further. He was sick and he could barely remain standing, he wanted to go to bed and forget this day ever happened.
"Who?" Nathan asked.
"Does it matter?" Ezra stared at him. "It didn't happen."
"Ezra," Nathan exhaled loudly, not wanting to leave it at just that. They needed to talk about this. Not just because Ezra was behaving as if he had somehow invited this horror upon himself but also because hurt like this had a tendency of showing on a person eventually. It was showing on Ezra already and Nathan did not want it to get any worse.
"I do not wish to discuss it Nathan." Ezra repeated himself. "Not now, not ever."
Nathan nodded reluctantly, allowing the man his dignity by not pressing any further on this issue.
"Well," he let out a sigh as if it were possible to dispel the subject that easily. "I should look at your hand," Nathan continued as he gathered the things he would need to put a dressing of some kind on Ezra's torn knuckles. It was unlikely that he could do much for Ezra's other injuries now that he realised what had caused them. Fortunately, the internal injuries he suspected was most likely some form of bleeding caused by internal abrasions or lacerations if one could call that some consolation. The most that he could do was try and prevent infection and to advise that the gambler get some rest. In the face of what the man had endured, that advice seemed paltry.
They did not speak for a while as Nathan put a dressing on Ezra's hand even though there were so many things he wanted to ask his friend, so many things he wished to say to tell Ezra that what happened was not his fault. However, Nathan understood that it was too soon for all that. Right now, Ezra was too raw to be able to accept anything other than his own despair. He worked silently on Ezra, while thoughts ran through his mind of what he ought to be doing. He should tell Chris about this but discarded the thought almost immediately. There was no telling what Ezra would do in his present state of mind if word got out.
It was not the first time Nathan had ever heard of this type of atrocity. When he was back on the plantation, a place where human ugliness seemed to breed prolifically, he had seen boys and men subjected to such abuse. A master who wanted to see the complete and utter destruction in a particularly proud young male slave would often employ such methods and a group usually delivered it. The perpetrators were men who enjoyed women, who were by definition heterosexual but the point of the entire exercise was not about the sex but about power. To take a man was to utterly destroy everything about him that was masculine. That was a formidable weapon. The men he knew who had endured this hell killed themselves rather than face the shame of anyone knowing and right now, the look in Ezra's eyes was too close to what Nathan remembered for him to risk doing anything remotely like telling Chris Larabee what he had discovered.
"I'll tell Chris that you had a bad fall and that you'll be in bed for the next few days." Nathan spoke up when he was done. "You should do that. I'll bring you some medicine to drink once I'm done brewing it here. It will help with the fever. Do you want something for the pain?"
"No," Ezra shook his head unable to meet the healer's eyes, feeling this incredible feeling of shame and wishing that he was well enough to ride out of here forever because right now, that seemed the only way he could endure this nightmare. "I do not wish to fall into any sleep I cannot awaken." He confessed.
"Ezra, is there anything else I can do?" Nathan asked telling himself then and there that he would not be leaving the gambler's side for the next few days.
"If you could please keep Mr Larabee and the others away from me for a day, I would appreciate it." Ezra found himself asking.
"Ezra, what about Julia?" Nathan inquired. Telling the others that Ezra wanted some privacy and bed rest would be easy to do when it came to the seven but with Julia, that was another thing entirely. Ezra's sickness would only make her want to take care of him and somehow, Nathan suspected that the gambler was not entirely up to dealing with his fiancée just yet.
"I would not be so cowardly as to leave that in your hands," Ezra met his gaze and tried to produce a smile. He failed. "I will deal with Julia myself."
"If you're sure," Nathan answered, surprising himself because he would have done it for Ezra if he had to, he would have thought up something to tell Julia. "I could do it if you needed me to."
Ezra held his stare for a moment and said in a strangely sober voice. "You would, wouldn't you?
"You're my friend Ezra," Nathan swallowed. "It's the least I can do for you."
Ezra said nothing for a few seconds but the emotion welling up in his eyes spoke volumes. The facade came down completely as his eyes glistened and he stared at something Nathan could not see. "Why did he do this to me?" Ezra whispered. "Why couldn't he just kill me?"
"Who?" Nathan asked wanting to do something but was barred by convention, by traditions of how men were supposed to treat each other and what fathers told sons about being a man. Sometimes, those basic teachings had the power to do so much damage.
The question shattered the moment and whatever vulnerability faded into view disappeared again and all that was left behind was that same mask Nathan had seen on the southerner since they had first met, hiding everything he was from those who cared most about him. "I should be retiring." Ezra answered after a moment. "This day has gone all together too long for my liking."
"Do you need any help getting there?" The healer inquired.
Under normal circumstances, he would not even let Ezra leave but he had a feeling if he tried making the gambler do anything he did not wish to do, the man would shoot him without hesitation. He could not even offer to help Ezra because it was obvious the southerner could not bear anyone touching him. Just the way he had reacted to Nathan's earlier examination was proof of that. The memory of his nails digging into his palms was something Nathan doubted he would forget any time soon. While he respected Ezra's desire to remain silent about his Ôsituation', Nathan wanted very much to get his hands on the son of a bitch who would do something so vile to another man.
"Yes I can." Ezra nodded and then added in a softer voice. "Thank you Nathan."
"Anytime Ezra," Nathan replied with just as much emotion. "Any time."
Nathan did not know how long he waited until Ezra had gone before he left the infirmary and strode towards the Larabee household in order to tell Chris that Ezra had been found. As he journeyed there, he recited what he would say to the gunslinger and the manner in which he would deliver the news. Nathan knew he had to be absolutely convincing because if he were not, Chris Larabee would spot it almost immediately. There was not much that got past the gunslinger's high-powered perception and a lie from one of his close friends would definitely be noticed, not to mention the demand to know why.
Ezra was adamant about no one learning what had happened to him and Nathan had to respect that, not only because the humiliation would be more than the gambler could stand but rather because Nathan had real concerns that he might hurt himself if the truth were to get out. Although he was fortunate to have been spared such degradation during his years on the plantation, Nathan remembered what it was like for those who did not. Most committed suicide at the prospect of repeated abuses, while some became violent and abusers themselves. For others, the one experience was enough and Nathan had remembered the bodies of friends who had ended their lives because they could not bear the stain upon their masculinity.
Nathan was not going to allow Ezra to go that way even if it meant lying to Chris Larabee.
Nathan reached the back porch of the Larabee home and rapped lightly on the door. It was well past supper so he hoped he was not waking up anyone, particularly Chris' young sons. However, Nathan also knew that he would want to be told immediately about Ezra and so the healer did not hesitate as he waited for an answer. A few seconds passed before the door swung open and Chris stepped out. His face displayed an expectation of trouble or some serious issue because he knew Nathan would not arrive at this hour without good reason.
"Nate?" Chris asked smoothly but his voice was taut. "What's up."
"Ezra's back." Nathan responded automatically.
"Back?" Chris' expression was a mixture of relief and suspicion all at one. "Where the hell was he?"
Nathan explained quickly, aware that hesitation would be spotted easily by the astute former gunslinger. "Apparently some old friends of his caught up with him last night. They were passing through Purgatory and found out he lived in Four Corners."
Chris stared at Nathan for a moment and then responded. "I take this ain't the kind of friends you want who would take no for an answer."
"Exactly the kind. They tried to string him up but you know Ez, he manage to slither out of it." Nathan continued his rehearsed speech hoping it was not too obvious a lie for Chris to detect.
"Is he alright?" Chris asked.
"He took a fall off the horse he stole while he was trying to get away," the healer replied trying to sound as matter of fact as possible. "He's a little banged up inside and he's running a fever but he's okay. I saw him to his room and I'll be going to his place in a while and check up on him. I don't think there's any reason to bother him until then. He looks like he needs the rest for tonight at least. I thought you might want to tell Julia."
"I do," Chris responded, remembering how despaired the lady had been about their lack of success in finding her fiancée. "It will be a load off her mind. I'm gonna go tell her now, you coming or do you want go and check up on Ezra like you said." Chris asked.
"I might go check up on Ezra," Nathan said quickly, having no desire to face Julia, remembering what Ezra had said about handling the lady himself. "If you like, I'll go tell the others."
Buck Wilmington and his family were currently residing in the rooms above the Standish Tavern while the rebuilding of his home, destroyed from a fire last month, continued and JD had a room in one of the lodging houses in
"I don't think Vin and Josiah are back in town yet but I'd appreciate it if you told the others." Chris replied, still staring at Nathan.
"No problem," Nathan nodded. "I best be going." He started to pull away.
"Nathan," Chris called out suddenly, almost on impulse. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Nathan replied quickly, cursing himself for not lying better but then Chris was a master at spotting those and the healer did not make a habit of speaking untruths to be particularly practiced at it. "I'm just worried about Ezra. Internal bleedings hard to get a hold on."
"Maybe you ought to see if Alex can do something for him," Chris suggested.
"That's okay," he shrugged off the suggestion, knowing that Ezra would certainly not want Alex involved in all this. "I think I can handle it on my own. I'll leave you to it." Nathan declared finally and stepped off the porch.
Chris watched him disappear into the darkness, feeling something nag at the back of his mind about Nathan's manner. Of all the members of the seven, Nathan was the one of the group other than JD who did not have some pre-existing chip on his shoulder. Nathan had learnt to deal with things the old fashioned way, head on and with as little bullshit as possible. It was the quality Chris liked the most about him because one could also depend on the healer, to always play it straight down the line. Chris sometimes wondered if Nathan was capable of lying and told himself that what he suspected was not that; Nathan would not lie to him no matter how preoccupied he seemed. Chris refused to believe that about him.
Refusing to believe it still did not shake that uneasiness Chris felt in his bones that there was still something wrong.
Julia Pemberton could not sleep.
She told herself that she had to get some rest, that Ezra would not want her roaming around the house like restless spirit unable to find peace. She sat down at her desk and tried to go through the purchase orders for the Emporium, hoping that the work could occupy her mind while she existed in this limbo of not knowing whether or not the only man she had ever loved was still alive. She focussed on the numbers and tried to forget that he was out there but soon fell back into a familiar pattern of remembering when she had last seen him. She could not even begin to imagine that it might be the last time she would see him.
For a woman who had as many lovers as she did, Ezra Standish had been such a surprise when he slipped into her life. He knew all her flaws and did not care a damn bit about them. They had found each other in the dark, two wounded souls bereft of any moral upbringing that had been drawn together from the moment they laid eyes upon one another. Together, they had found this family in the magical number of seven. Mythology had it that the number seven was a number of power. When she saw Ezra stand with his friends, she could well believe. Perhaps the flaw in thinking that with the seven, he was invulnerable.
God, she did not know what she would do if he were lost to her.
Julia dropped her pen and did not even notice that it had rolled across the paper, trailing ink across the neat columns of figures. She closed her eyes and tried to compose herself because she could feel tears coming again and it would do her no good. It certainly had meant little when Chris Larabee had come to her door hours ago and told her that their search had produced no sign of the gambler. He had tried to be kind and as comforting as Chris could be but she could see it in his eyes that he feared the worst and that was truth no amount of soft words could disguise.
Suddenly, the door knocked and Julia found herself standing up abruptly. A sliver of cold stark horror filtered into her at what news could come at such a late hour. Her state of mind was such that she expected the worse when she came around from her desk and entered the hallway that led to the front door. Part terrified and eager of what awaited behind it, Julia hurried forward and noted the silhouette of dark hat she knew could only belong to Chris Larabee, through the glass panes.
"Chris?" Julia swung open the door and stared at the gunslinger almost terrified of the news he might be bringing to her. "What is it?" She demanded.
"He's alive." Chris wasted no time in saying.
Julia let out a gasp of relief and immediately embraced Chris in unbridled relief. "Oh Thank God! Where is he?" She demanded.
"He's in his room at Mrs Satler." Chris explained when she pulled away from him, resting his hands on her shoulders not only to calm her down but to keep her from racing over to see Ezra before he had a chance to explain things to her a little clearly. "He's hurt."
"Hurt!" Julia exclaimed. "How badly?"
"Enough to keep him in bed for awhile," Chris responded. "It looks like some old poker buddies of his caught up to him last night and tried to string him up. Ezra got away but when he escaped he took a bad fall off his horse."
Julia's expression melted into a gasp and Chris could see she feared the worst. "I want to go see him."
"I figured you would," Chris remarked. "Nathan says he's got a little internal bleeding and has a fever so I don't think he'll be much in the mood for visitors."
"I am not a visitor, I am almost his wife!" Julia declared imperiously before realizing that Chris cared just as much for Ezra and she had no call to speak to the man that way. "I'm sorry, I just want to see him."
"I know," he smiled, showing her that there was no harm intended. "I just want you to know that you shouldn't expect too much when you see him, he'll probably be a little out of it."
"I understand," Julia nodded. "I just need to see if he's alright." Her eyes revealed the extent of her fears for Ezra and what the last day must have been like for her.
"Come on," Chris said warmly. "You shouldn't be out on the street at this time of night, I'll walk you over to Mrs. Satler's."
It was an offer Julia was not about to turn down although if the truth were known she would have gone even alone even if he had not offered. She could not breathe easily until she saw with her own eyes that he was alive and well. They made brisk pace across town once they set out for the lodging house arriving not long after.
"Come in." Ezra's weak voice beckoned through the door after Chris knocked.
They entered the room to be greeted with a peculiar odor that could only be one of Nathan's potions and saw the healer feeding it took Ezra. The gambler did not seem at all happy to be drinking the substance but broke into a faint smile at the sight of Julia.
"Oh Ezra," Julia hurried to his bedside and embraced him. "I've been so worried!" She cried.
"I assure you my dear, I am in one piece." He said coolly, fighting the urge to push her away and was rather proud of his efforts to appear genuinely pleased to see her. In truth, seeing Julia did make him feel better and until she touched him, he had no idea how strong the compulsion to draw away would be. However, he had to hide it from her. She, of all people could not suspect what had happened to him. It was almost as bad as having the rest of the seven learning the truth. He already hated the idea that Nathan knew but he could live with it because at the time, there was no real way he could have hidden it in his injured state. However, he did have a choice with the others and Julia and he was not going to have Julia question him as a man by having her know.
"How is he?" She turned to Nathan as if hearing it from the healer would be assure her he was not simply putting a brave front for her benefit.
"Just as little banged up," Nathan answered neutrally, catching the sharp state Ezra had turned at his direction beyond Julia's notice. "Give him a couple of days of bed rest and he'll be as good as new."
"That's a relief." Julia sighed and gazed at Ezra affectionately. "I think we can manage that."
Ezra swallowed ever so lightly and produced a facsimile of his trademark smile. "I'm sure you can."
"How are you doing Ezra?" Chris finally made himself heard, having held back before now to give the couple some time together without interruption.
"I've had better days." Ezra remarked.
"I'm sure you have." Chris cracked a faded smile. "What about those boys who came after you? Are they gone permanently?"
Ezra paused a moment as he removed himself out of Julia's clutches and eased back into his pillow. The concoction that Nathan had administered to him had some sedating properties because he could feel the pain that had been constant companion since his return to consciousness, subside somewhat. His body was starting to feel relaxed and the discomfort easing. While he was not completely out of wits, he knew his mind was not as sharp as it should be and so he measured his words to Chris Larabee carefully
"I dispensed with their leader, the main reason for their kidnapping. The others gave me the impression they would rather have the whole business done with." Ezra finally trusted himself enough to answer. "I doubt that I shall be concerning myself with an encore performance."
"So where did they take you?" Julia asked, surprised that Chris and the rest of the seven had not come across Ezra during his time with the men who had kidnapped him.
"You know, I am not entirely sure," Ezra said drowsily. "I was unconscious at the time and the only recollection that I have upon awaking was that I was in a barn. After the fall during my escape, I have to confess feeling a little disorientated and did not take too much stock of my surroundings."
"Doesn't matter," Julia said brushing a strand of hair out of his face and leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. She was about to make contact when she noticed that he had shuddered. It was very slight but enough to make her pause a second as she tried to understand what had just taken place. The odd feeling disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared and she resumed her attempt. A split second later, she felt her lips touch the warm skin of his feverish brow. She forced a smile to her face, meeting his eyes and seeing something in them that was just as askew as the rest of him at this instant. Julia told herself that he was sick and probably feeling miserable for her to be judging his reactions so suspiciously.
It was just that for a second, it almost felt like he was revolted by the idea of touching her.
"I think that's enough questions for now." Nathan quickly intervened, noticing what had occurred. "Chris, Julia, I really think Ezra needs to rest."
"As much as I hate to admit it," Ezra responded, feeling a bubble of anxiety inflating inside of him at his involuntary reaction to Julia's touch. "Mr Jackson is correct. My dear," he glanced at Julia, "I do really need to get some rest."
"Of course." Julia nodded telling herself again that she was mistaken about what she had felt. "I'll drop into see you tomorrow morning. I'll bring you some breakfast." She smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the lips. His mouth parted gently for hers and she could tell that he was not trying to pull away this time.
Julia would have felt relieved if it were not for the fact that his kiss felt cold.
"Damn." Ezra whispered softly after Julia and Chris had left him in Nathan's capable care. He wished he had been able to handle himself better than he had but when Julia reached for him, he felt this deep sense of panic at the thought of her touching him in any way. He had tried valiantly to seem normal but he was certain she noticed something was wrong even though she was uncertain in what shape it was.
"I don't think you ought to worry too much about Julia." Nathan spoke up in an effort to make the gambler feel better. "She knows you're feeling poorly. Its only natural that you might be a little skittish after almost getting killed and all."
Ezra wished he could believe Nathan but somehow he knew the woman he loved better than that. After so many hours in rapturous exploration of one another, they knew each other as intimately as any two people were capable. He knew that she had sensed it when he pulled away and though she was confused about why, she nonetheless had seen it. Ezra felt his insides knot at the idea of how long it would take for her to figure it out and then have her knowledge turn her love for him into pure revulsion. The idea that she could look at him with disgust was something Ezra never wanted to see but he could think of no way to keep that from happening. The seeds of doubt had been planted in her head.
"I am going to lose her." Ezra whispered as Nathan put another cool towel over his head.
"Now don't be talking like that." Nathan said reproachfully. "That girl loves you. "You know that. Even if she found out I don't think that's likely to change."
"How long will she keep loving me after she finds out the truth?" Ezra muttered as the sleep started to overcome him."
"The truth is that you were hurt by an animal." Nathan retorted firmly, refusing to let Ezra believe anything else. "That is the only truth that will matter to her."
"I wish I had your faith in people Nathan," Ezra closed his eyes and felt the medicine lull him into sleep. "Unfortunately, I have seen far too much ugliness to ever believe that such faith is not misguided."
"Now you listen to me," Nathan voice sliced through the haziness in his mind after a pause. "Don't you ever tell me that you have seen far uglier things than I have because I guarantee you, you're wrong. I've seen evil on men's faces for no other reason then they wanting it to be there. You did not ask for what happened to you and only a filthy animal would do that to a man. I don't think you deserved any of it and I sure as hell know that if Miss Julia knew what I did, she would think the same way. Don't go pushing her away when this is the time you should be turning to her."
Ezra closed his eyes, not wanting to hear because the words felt meaningless. "How can I turn to her when I feel like tearing my skin off my bones whenever she touches me. I will not hurt her by showing her my revulsion. I love her too much for that."
Nathan let out a deep sigh as he saw Ezra fade away into sleep on that somber note. He knew that he should be getting back to his room to get some sleep but he could not bring himself to leave just yet. Settling into the wing chair next to the bed, he continued to watch over Ezra until he too lapsed into slumber
After Chris had walked Julia home, he took a chance to swing by Alex's clinic to see if Vin was back from his investigations with Josiah about the unrest warned about by Kojay. As he made his way to the clinic, he could not help thinking about what had transpired this evening. Julia had said virtually nothing after leaving Ezra except to thank him when they finally arrived at her porch and though Chris had tried to coax her to talk about what was bothering her so much, he was not good at such things and had little success. Finally, he decided to give up all together because knowing women, she'd probably be more apt to tell Mary the next day anyway. Still, he could not get the image of her troubled expression out of his mind.
He knew what it was of course, though not exactly why she was so bothered.
Chris who noticed everything had seen the way Ezra reacted when Julia leaned over to kiss him. It was like a minute shift in the wind, so slight that it was barely recognisable except to those who knew how to look and Chris knew how to look very well indeed. Ezra's barriers had dropped for the barest hint of a second and what Chris had seen in his eyes was difficult to believe because this was Ezra, who was sometimes even more closed off than he was. Chris had searched for it as soon as it appeared but it vanished almost immediately and the gunslinger had stood there wondering what he had seen and hated it that he could not pin it down, whatever it was. However, he knew how it felt though, even for that second, he recognized the emotion even though he did not understand.
Chris knew all about fear.
Ezra had been afraid. For some reason when Julia went to touch him, Ezra was afraid. Chris shook the thought out of his mind because it was absurd. The man was a crack shot, with a pistol he was even than Vin, perhaps even better than Chris was was himself. The way he lived prior to meeting the seven ensured he knew how to survive at any costs and in recent years, Ezra had always proven himself by his ability to bounce back. What on Earth would make him scared? It was ludicrous and Chris told himself it had to something else, something that he had not quite figured out yet. Did Nathan know? An involuntary question slipped through the mire of his thoughts. When Nathan had been talking to him, Chris had sensed the healer holding something back, was it because he knew?
"Stop it Larabee," Chris muttered out loud. "You're getting paranoid."
He arrived at the clinic and saw the upstairs lights still burning through the window and knew that Alex was still awake. He almost reconsidered the idea of calling on Vin at this hour but this whole issue with Ezra was preying heavily on his mind and if he did not have something else to occupy his attention, he would most certainly stay up half the night thinking it about it. He took the steps up the side of the building and heard the soft chatter of conversation behind the door. Chris was glad that they tracker and his wife were still awake, feeling a little guilty for intruding at a late hour because he had a bee in his bonnet.
"Hey pard," Vin Tanner drawled in that usual lazy tone upon opening the door and finding his best friend standing before him. He was clad in his leather pants and suspenders hung over his shirtless body. It appeared as if Vin was just about to call it a night and made Chris feel doubly guilty for his presence at the tracker's door.
"Sorry to call on you so late Vin," Chris immediately apologized, knowing that his timing would immediately put the younger man on guard. It was uncanny how much alike they were at times. Vin was probably in the same frame of mind Chris had been when Nathan had come to tell him about Ezra.
"Something wrong?" Vin asked quickly.
"Nothing immediate." Chris answered, putting the man at ease and following his statement, saw Vin relax visibly.
"Come on in," Vin withdrew into the doorway with the full expectation of Chris following.
It did not take long before they were settled at the kitchen table with Chris nursing a hot cup of coffee furnished by Alex, who left the two men alone and turned in for the night. Considering the hours the lady put it at times at her clinic, it was hardly surprising she would want some rest. Alex had filled Vin on Ezra's disappearance shortly after his return and Chris informed the tracker dutifully that Ezra had found his way home with no help from the seven despite their effort to find him.
Vin Tanner watched Chris Larabee for a few minutes saying nothing as the gunslinger spoke and found more insight in what the man did not say as opposed to what he did. He knew Chris had something on his mind and truth be known, Vin had a few things to say too. "So he's okay then." Vin declared.
"More or less." Chris shrugged. "He's laid up after falling off his horse and he's pretty sure the boys who took him ain't coming back so that as they say is that."
Vin nodded. "You got a problem with it?" He guessed perceptively.
Chris let out a faded smile. "I just find it hard to believe that someone can be sniffing around for Ezra and not even give us the slightest clue."
That was hardly unusual in Vin's opinion. When Ely Joe had sent those false marshals after him, the tracker had no idea until he was attacked on his way to his wagon one night. It incensed him to no end that he had been so off guard to allow those men to sneak up behind him. "Doesn't mean anything, Chris. It just happens."
"I suppose," Chris replied, not entirely convinced but not about to torture himself with what he could not unravel either. Ezra was back and that was all that mattered. If there was more to it then that, it would come out eventually. The truth always did.
"Well at least you know Miss Belladonna ain't got nothing to do with him disappearing." Vin pointed out.
"That's true," Chris agreed. "Still odd though, how she just cleared out."
"People get restless, they move on." Vin responded. "Weren't that long ago when we weren't much different." He reminded Chris with a little smile.
"Tell me about it," Chris nodded and took another sip of his coffee. "So what did you and Josiah find out today?"
"I was going to talk to you first thing in the morning," Vin sat up straight and leaned forward on the table as if he were to impart something of importance to his friend. "Since you're here now, I'll fill you in."
"Is trouble coming?" Chris' brow furrowed in anticipation of Vin's next words.
"I think so," Vin nodded. "Josiah and I tracked one of the Chiricahuan Apache tribes I know of. Chief there is a good man, use to sit in with Cochise in the old days."
Chris knew of the Apache Chief who had been one of the greater American Indian leaders of his time. Of course, his was an opinion not shared by most but then Chris knew a good man when he heard about one and respected them, no matter what their color. "What did he have to say?"
"There is trouble." Vin confirmed grimly. "Not from his people but from the Chokonens. The Apache are getting mighty stirred up. This 'Eagle' whoever he is, has been telling them they're gonna lose their lands with the railroad bringing in settlers and this becoming a state. Josiah and I tried to tell the old Chief that we're pretty far from things coming to that but what can we say that someone else won't change? The white man's never honored his treaties with the Indians; I mean look at what they did to Mangas? They got no reason to believe anything we say."
As much as Chris wanted to refute Vin's words, the tracker was right. There was no promise the seven could make to the Indians in the area that the powers above them could not veto for their own selfish ends. Mangas Coloradas, a Mimbreno Apache had arrived to meet General Joseph West under a flag of truce and West, proving once again that the Indian had every reason to fear white men, broke that truce by imprisoning Mangas' party and having the man killed. What words could there be to justify that?
"So does it look like the Chokonens are going to revolt?" Chris asked once more.
"It ain't just the Chokenens Chris," Vin replied, his eyes becoming dark with worry. "We're looking at the possible revolt of most of the Apache nation. Cochise' son Naiche is throwing with Geronimo, thanks to this Eagle. They're talking about wiping out every white man they find. The Navajo are getting pulled into it. Kojay knows better but he's just one tribe. The Hopi are staying out of it according to the old Chief but they've got people who want to join up."
"So we're looking at a splinter group." Chris declared, wondering if there was any way to avoid calling the army on this.
"A very large splinter group." Vin sighed. "I'm gonna take a ride out to the Chokonen tribe tomorrow, see if I can't get a bead on who this Eagle is. I've met Naiche some years back when I was tracking. I don't think he'll be too unreasonable."
"You expect him to talk?" Chris stared at Vin, not all liking the idea of Vin going into hostile territory.
"Not really but its worth a try." He answered.
"You could get yourself scalped pard," Chris pointed out. "You ain't doing it alone."
"You got two boys to worry about," Vin stated firmly. "I got a wife who can take care of herself whether I'm here or not. I can go alone."
He probably could but Chris was still not going to let him. "I'm going with you."
"Dang, you're one stubborn son of a bitch." Vin grumbled giving him a look.
Chris chuckled and returned his stare with one just as sardonic. "Look who's talking."
The pain tore through his consciousness like nothing he had ever experienced before in his entire life. He struggled against the ropes around his wrist but could not even loosen them. Normally, he was capable of loosening any knot for his hands were skilled at many things, not just card playing. However, his mind was racing in panic and agony and the knots seemed like padlocks of cast iron as he struggled to free himself. Tears were streaking down his face and he ground his teeth, trying not to let the pain overcome him. It was unimaginable what was happening to him, even though this was what he had feared since discovering he was Hannibal Julius' prisoner.
Another powerful thrust tore a scream from him again.
Ezra felt it impale him with such unrelenting agony that he was screaming openly, not caring that he should not be giving his brutaliser the satisfaction of hearing his pain. It was not just the pain that made him wail so; it was indignance and disbelief that something so awful could happen to him. He was a southern gentleman who was used to going to the rescue of others, not being bent over and violated in this degrading manner. He was one of the seven! Things like this did not happen to one of the seven!
Almost in answer, he felt Julius hands on his hips, holding him tighter, pumping into him in a slow steady rhythm. Ezra felt every stroke as it entered him. Its shredded his insides like barbed wire until he had trouble standing up. His knees were starting to give out.
"Stay where you are!" Julius' voice roared in his ears. "You stay on your knees Ezra or so help me I'll give you to all my men!"
The idea of being gang raped curdled his resolve with such absolute terror that Ezra could hardly breathe and he started to weep as he forced himself to remain on his knees, to accept obediently Julius' foul vengeance. He sobbed, hating himself for being so weak and unable to stop this from happening to him. His sobs were intermittently broken by gasps of pain as Julius who was close to release became more and more frenzied with his strokes, until he was ramming so hard that Ezra thought he might die from the sheer excruciating agony.
"What are you some kind of funny cowboy?" Buck Wilmington's voice suddenly captured Ezra's attention.
Ezra had been closing his eyes, not wanting to see that horrible reflection in the mirror of himself and Julius. However, the voice made him look up. Ezra's eyes widened when he saw Buck Wilmington standing there against the far wall, watching him.
"Help me!" Ezra shouted at the big man as another thrust clipped the end of his sentence with a grunt of pain.
"Looks to me like you ought to be able to handle this on your own." Vin Tanner who was standing next to him added.
"Please!" He begged again. He could hear Julius behind him, grunting, gasping hard in pleasure, and digging fingers into his skin. "Make it stop!"
"You should be able to do that on your own," Nathan Jackson added just as indifferently. "Oh maybe you're liking it just a little."
"No!!!" Ezra cried out in return. "Do something!"
"No money in it brother." Josiah Sanchez shrugged dispassionately, shuffling a deck of cards in his large hands as he watched like the others were watching.
"Please!" Ezra pleaded desperately. "Help me!"
"Oh come on Ezra," JD replied from another corner of the room. "You did kiss him once. Don't that make you a tease?"
"I did it for Mary!" He shouted out in defiance, feeling his spirit starting to crumble.
"You did it cause you liked it Ezra," Chris Larabee said with a smile, smoking a cheroot and appearing as if he was almost entertained by what he was seeing. "Come on boys," the gunslinger turned to the others and spoke, giving Ezra one last look. "It's our turn to run out on him when he needs us."
Chris said this while he was holding Julia in his arms.
The scream that ripped through Nathan's consciousness and sent him leaping out of the chair towards Ezra was unlike anything he had ever heard. It was like howl of a wild animal, wounded and braying at the moon for and end to his slow death. When he reached the bed, Ezra was sitting up covered in sweat, panting, his eyes wide with terror and looking very much like that animal who needed to die.
"Ezra! It's okay! You were just dreaming." Nathan called out and reached for him as he slid onto the bed.
However dazed and disoriented Ezra might have been from his nightmare, he was not so out of his senses that he did not see the healer reaching for him.
"Don't touch me!" He fairly roared and made Nathan recoil from the sheer savagery in his voice.
"Ezra take it easy," Nathan retreated to the edge of the bed and spoke calmly, trying to reach the gambler in his distraught state. "You were dreaming. It's over now."
Ezra buried his face in his hands and started to sob. "No it is not over!" He said through gritted teeth. "It will never be over! Why couldn't he just kill me! Why couldn't he just let me die! Dying would be preferable to this!"
And Nathan could only watch helplessly because for the first time in his life, he did not know how to help.