Maude lay on her bed, exhausted after a night of tossing and turning... MJ's plan running constantly through her mind had kept her from enjoying more than an hour's sleep at a time. She watched the first streaks of sun move slowly across the wall as she went over and over the details as he had patiently explained them to her.
She had fought against them at first... against both his plan for her regaining control of Ezra and the one he intended to implement upon their arrival in New Orleans, which is where he had decided they would head as soon as they had her son in their possession. That plan was how she was to come up with the money to pay his retainer, and it was also the one that bothered her the most, but he had refused to help her get her son back if she hadn't agreed to it.
Maude couldn't really understand her reluctance to go along with him. It was quite simple really and basically foolproof. Take Ezra to the gaming palaces, make him hang around the poker tables bragging about how well he plays and flaunt the wad of cash she was willing to bet to back his claims. Maude knew from experience that the card sharps would be lining up for their chance to teach the boastful young man a lesson... and fill their pockets at the same time. She knew it would work because she'd run the exact same scam often when Ezra was a child... whenever they were in need of some quick cash. None of them were willing to believe that someone so young could actually beat them at cards. In fact, it would probably be even more successful given her son's present condition. The low-lives that inhabited those places would jump at the chance to take advantage of someone like Ezra. And that was what bothered her. It just seemed wrong to parade him around like that... to allow those disgusting men to poke fun at him. Not to mention how embarrassing it was for her to have everyone know that she had a simpleton for a son.
But MJ was adamant. Either she agreed to his plans for Ezra in New Orleans, splitting anything he won fifty-fifty... or she was on her own in her fight to get her son back. He'd be leaving the next morning and she'd never hear from him again. So she'd agreed to everything. She had to. She refused to suffer the humiliation of leaving town without her son.
Buck returned to the clinic, ready to scold Ezra for being so impatient and not listening when he'd told him he'd be right there, but he forgot all about it once he got a look at the gambler sitting in the middle of the bed. His face was flushed with fever, his sweat dampened hair clung to his head, and he looked just generally miserable. "I don't feewl verwy good, Buck."
The ladies man sat beside him on the bed, wrapping one long arm around his shoulders while he placed his hand over the younger man's forehead. He watched as Ezra closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, obviously enjoying the soothing coolness of Buck's fingers as they brushed across his skin. The fever wasn't high, just enough to make poor Ezra feel miserable.
"Nathan left some tea on the stove for ya in case ya needed it... will ya drink it for me if I make sure an' put plenty of honey in it?" Buck smoothed Ezra's hair back and gave his shoulders an encouraging squeeze. "It'll make your scratchy throat feel better, then you'll be able to eat the breakfast Chris went to fetch for us."
Ezra frowned and Buck thought he was about to raise a fuss, but he finally sighed and nodded. "Okay, Buck... whateverw you want."
Buck went to fetch the tea, watching Ezra carefully as he stirred in a big spoonful of honey. The young gambler sat slumped where Buck had left him, a painfully brokenhearted expression on his face as he rubbed his hand slowly over his cheek. The ladies man could see it was still a bit swollen and red... Maude hadn't held back at all when she'd slapped him.
Ezra looked up as Buck approached him with the tea, fresh tears and an unspoken request for comforting was clearly visible in his sad eyes. Buck put the mug on the bedside table and sat down beside him, gently pulling Ezra's hand away and lightly stroking his fingers over the tender flesh. "Still hurts, doesn't it?"
Ezra blinked rapidly, trying hard to keep the tears from falling again as he nodded and touched Buck's hand as it moved over his cheek. "But not herwe..." he moved his hand down and placed it over his chest... over his heart... "herwe, Buck. It huwts herwe."
Buck felt a tightening in his own chest as he slowly pulled Ezra into his arms, not saying anything... just giving the comfort that the younger man needed at the moment. The tightness turned into a painful ache around his heart as he heard the softly drawled words Ezra spoke next.
"Why does my mama hate me so much, Buck?"
Buck shook his head and wished more than ever to be able to shake some sense into that miserable woman who had put so much grief into her own son's heart. "She doesn't hate ya, Ezra... I just don't think she knows how to love ya. Maybe her mama never taught her how to do that."
Chris had come in during Buck's explanation and nodded approvingly at him as he quietly set the tray holding their breakfast on the table. He knew how incredibly hard it was for Buck to defend Maude, but this was one truth Ezra needed to be protected from. Maude Standish cared only for herself and obviously her son suspected that, but having it confirmed would almost certainly crush his already bruised heart.
Ezra shifted his head on Buck's shoulder so that he could look up into the older man's blue eyes... searching them carefully for the truth of what he was telling him. "But I f'ought mamas jus' knew how to wuv d'eir kids... d'ey shouldn't have to be taught how to do d'at... should d'ey?"
Buck shook his head and hugged Ezra tighter. "I don't know, pard... I guess it just don't come so easy to some mamas. Ya just gotta remember that it ain't 'cause of nothin' you did or didn't do... it's just somethin' that happens sometimes... okay?"
"Okay." Ezra hesitated and then asked one last question. "Buck? Is Mama betterw when I'm awll grwowed up?"
Buck shot a quick look at Chris and, as much as he hated to, lied to Ezra. There was no way he could destroy the hope he heard in the young gambler's voice. "Yeah, Little One... everything's okay between you and your mama once you're a grown up."
Ezra just nodded. They weren't sure if he believed them or not, but it at least seemed to satisfy him for now. "Can I have d'at tea now, Buck... my f'roat huwts an awful w'ot."
Buck and Chris sat with him while he drank the tea down without a single complaint and hoped the reason he was being so quiet was just because he didn't feel good, and not because he was scared again.
He was just as quiet during breakfast, managing to eat only one flapjack and half a biscuit before he asked if he could please lay down again. They tucked him in and sat with him til he fell into a restless sleep, then went back over to the table and finished off the pot of coffee.
The others wandered into the clinic one at a time, and Chris and Buck waited til they were all assembled around the table before filling them in on what had transpired during the night. Each one of them had to discreetly wipe away a tear or two when Buck got to Ezra's request that he tell them goodbye for him when he left.
JD stared over at the gambler as he mumbled softly in his sleep. "So he knows he's going? God... he must be so scared and confused."
Buck heaved a ragged sigh. "He is, Kid... an' I don't think he wants to think about it anymore, much less talk about it. So let's just try to keep him happy for as long as he's still here an' not mention what's goin' to happen to 'im."
Everyone agreed with the lanky gunman, and silence descended over the group as they sat lost in their respective thoughts of Lit'l Ezra's impending departure while waiting patiently for the Southerner to awaken.
Once he finally did rouse from his slumber, the tea had done its job and he seemed to feel a bit better. They spent the rest of the afternoon doing whatever Ezra wanted. Josiah played chess with him, amazing himself and the younger man when they split the games evenly... two wins for each of them. Whereas the adult Ezra would have spouted a litany of excuses for his two losses, their Little One hugged the preacher and told him how great he thought it was that they both got to win. Buck and JD both crawled around the floor with him, making appropriate train noises and happily annoying the others by running the small wooden toy into and over their feet and legs. Ezra finally managed to beat Nathan at checkers and was tickled to death when the gentle healer leaned over the checker board and hugged him soundly while telling him how proud he was of him.
The dinner menu had been left up to Ezra and he'd immediately requested a big pot of Josiah's chili. His remembering that the senior member of their group was famous, or infamous as Chris put it, for his fiery hot chili, was just one of many small bursts of memory that Ezra had that day, none of which were commented on by either the gambler or his brothers. While the others were busy setting the table and dishing up the meal, Vin and Ezra played their harmonicas, filling the clinic with their own brand of music.
They sat together in the middle of the bed. Vin had his legs folded up Indian style, while Ezra knelt in front of him so that he could watch the other man's fingers as he tried to teach him some new melodies. Ezra suffered from the handicap of only having one hand to use to form the different sounds, but still did a remarkably fine job of following what the tracker did. Suddenly Vin stopped playing... his eyes stared over the gambler's shoulder as he slowly moved the small instrument away from his mouth and began unfolding his legs. "Ezra... I want ya t' hold real still for me, okay?"
"What's d' matterw, Vin?" Ezra turned his head to see what the sharpshooter was staring at and promptly froze as he saw something move on the blanket only inches from his bare toes.
The others had been talking amongst themselves while they worked, and hadn't noticed what was occurring on the bed. They all jumped when Ezra let loose with an ear-splitting squeal and looked up in time to witness the horrified young man trying to climb over top of Vin. The tracker had been caught with one leg still folded in front of him and was now pinned to the bed by the gambler, who was delivering several painful, albeit unintentional, hits and kicks to the man beneath him with his wildly flailing arm and legs.
"Ezra!! Stop! It's not gonna hurt ya... calm down!!" Vin shouted at the older man, trying desperately to break through his panic before he hurt himself, or before he seriously injured him with a more accurately placed hit. "It's only a spider! It ain't gonna hurt ya! Ya just gotta hold still an' let me get rid of it!" The tracker jerked and swore as Ezra's elbow connected with his nose, sending a sudden gush of blood pouring over his mouth and chin. One look at the blood on Vin's face, and the Southerner's panic increased tenfold... causing him to increase his efforts to get the tracker between himself and the huge, hairy, brown creature that was still crawling across the covers toward them. With one final, mighty push with both feet and a brain numbing shriek, Ezra managed to topple both he and Vin off the bed.
Chris and the others had collapsed in helpless fits of laughter at the first sight of the spectacle taking place on the other side of the room. But as soon as they saw the two men disappear over the side of the bed and heard the thud of their landing, accompanied by a string of curses on Vin's part and a screech of pain on Ezra's, they finally got control of themselves and rushed to help.
They found the two men in a heap, arms and legs tangled together, with Ezra on top sobbing weakly as he still clung to Vin with his good arm.
Vin looked up as they came into view... he had managed to free one arm and was trying to stop the flow of blood still streaming steadily from his nose. "Spider... bed."
The others immediately jumped away from the bed as their eyes searched the covers for their unwelcome visitor. JD spotted it first and quickly grabbed the broom, stunning the nasty looking thing with a loud thwack and then sweeping it quickly out onto the landing and off into the street below.
Josiah bent over to lift Ezra off of Vin, but the minute his hand touched the gambler's shoulder, Ezra began screeching again and shoved himself up off of the tracker... catching the preacher under the chin with his head as he leaped onto the bed. Nathan and Chris managed to catch Josiah when he fell back and steadied him as he stood weaving, both hands clamped over his mouth. They could see the pained expression on his face and saw blood oozing out between his fingers, and knew he'd either bitten his tongue or his lip.
Nathan, Chris, Buck, and JD looked at the chaos around them... Vin, lying on the floor, bloodied and gasping for breath... Josiah, clutching his mouth, a string of muffled curses slipping out from behind his fingers... and Ezra... standing in the middle of the bed shouting 'kiwll it! kiwll it! kiwll it!'. They couldn't help it... all four men burst out laughing.
Vin kicked Chris's foot to get his attention and wheezed, "Glad... you fellas think... this is so... damn... funny. Now... could ya quit... laughin'... long enough... t' help me... up?"
Chris reached down and hauled the tracker to his feet, and then with a supportive hand on his arm, led him over to one of the chairs. JD was right behind him with Josiah in tow, who now had his handkerchief pressed against his still bleeding lip.
Nathan and Buck approached the bed, still chuckling at all the commotion one spider had caused. "Ezra? Come on, Little One... calm down. JD took care of it... it's gone now."
Ezra still stood in the bed, his hand clutching at his nightshirt as his eyes continued to search the blankets. His voice was shaking almost as much as his body was when he spoke to the two men, never taking his gaze off the bed. "Arwe you surwe?"
JD looked over at Ezra and tried his best not to laugh at the sight of the usually calm, cool and collected gambler standing there in his rumpled nightshirt, bare feet shifting nervously on the bed, and his green eyes wide open and frantically searching the covers for the hairy, brown monster that had nearly gotten him. "I promise ya, Ezra. I whacked it with the broom and tossed it out in the street. It's not gonna hurt ya now."
Ezra must have decided JD sounded sincere because he finally stopped shuffling around the bed and looked up at the other men. His face immediately took on an expression of indignation as he realized that they were all laughing at him. "D'at wasn't funny! D'at f'ing was big... an'... an' hairwy... an' it could've bit me! Orw Vin! You shouldn't be w'aughin' at me!"
Vin probed gingerly at his swollen nose and shot Ezra a rueful grin. "I think I'd just as soon take my chances with the spider next time, pard."
Ezra looked over at Vin and Josiah who were being tended to by Chris and JD, and his face fell as he realized what he'd done. "I'm sowwy I huwt you guys... I didn't mean to. I... I was jus' scarwed."
Josiah tried to smile reassuringly and ended up wincing instead as pain shot through his torn lip. "It wasn't your fault, Little One... that was a scary looking spider. And you were doin' the right thing by getting away from it as fast as you could."
"It didn't bite ya, did it, pard?" Vin looked concernedly at Nathan even though Ezra shook his head no. "Might be best for ya t' check out his feet anyway... that damn thing was only 'bout an inch from his toes when he launched hisself at me. An' take a look at his head... I think he cracked it on that table when we went flyin' off the bed." He swatted at Chris who was trying to clean some of the blood off his face. "Will you quit hoverin' over me, Larabee... it's just a little bloody nose."
Chris grinned down at the tracker. "Oh yeah? Well, maybe you oughta take a look in the mirror. You're startin' to look like a damn raccoon with those twin shiners you're gettin'."
Vin's hand shot up to his nose and he gingerly pressed his fingers against the bridge. "Shit..."
Chris soaked the rag in cold water again and handed it to Vin. "Here... hold this on it, might take the swelling down some." Then he moved over to where Ezra now sat on the bed with Buck while Nathan carefully examined his feet. "Anything, Nathan?"
Nathan gratefully shook his head. "No sign of any bites, jus' the cuts he had before, an' they're healin' up fine." He stood up to check Ezra's head and smiled. "Jus' a little bump here on the side of his head. Didn't even break the skin."
"Well, good... now that all the fuss is over with, an' everyone's gonna be okay, let's eat... I'm starvin'!" JD started dishing up the rest of the chili and passing out bowls while the others got settled around the table.
They enjoyed a nice, quiet meal talking and joking about the disaster earlier. Buck and JD even managed to get Ezra to laugh a little, but for the most part, the gambler stayed unusually quiet. Nathan wasn't sure if it was the cold that was bothering him or if he was just still depressed over finding out that he was going to be leaving them. He knew one thing though... the younger man was definitely tired and needed to get some sleep.
Nathan looked over at Ezra who was leaning against Buck's arm, yawning, and smiled. "I think it's 'bout time someone went t' bed."
Buck looked down at Ezra and then yawned himself. "I think it's 'bout time both of us went to bed... what do ya think, little guy?"
But Ezra wasn't ready to give up any time he had left with his new brothers and shook his head. "Nuh-uh... I don't wanna go to bed aw'weady. I wanna sit herwe an' talk wif you guys some morwe."
Chris could see Ezra's eyes were drooping as he desperately tried to smother another yawn, and knew Nathan was right. After what Buck had told him about the previous night, he figured the Southerner was probably still afraid to go to sleep in case he disappeared before he woke up. "Ezra? How 'bout if I rock you and tell you another story first? Then will you go to bed and get some rest for Nathan?"
Ezra hesitated, wanting to refuse... Chris was right... the idea of going to sleep terrified him now, but the lure of being rocked and read to again was just too much for the young man. He nodded and hurriedly left the table to fetch his book before letting Buck help him get settled on Chris's lap in the rocker. And just as Chris suspected would happen, Ezra was sound asleep before he finished the first story.
The gambler was so exhausted that he never even woke up when Nathan and Josiah carefully lifted him and carried him over to the bed. Buck, who was even more exhausted than Ezra, slipped in beside him and was asleep in a matter of minutes.
Chris smiled sadly down at the two men in the bed... he had no idea how Buck was going to handle it when his Little One left. He only knew that the ladies man was going to need just as much help coping with it as Ezra would when he returned to them.
"Well, boys... looks like were not needed here now... how 'bout we head over to the saloon and play a little poker. I've got a feeling it might be one of our last chances to play and actually win some money."
The others laughingly agreed and followed Chris out of the clinic.
Nathan was the last to leave. He extinguished all but the lamp beside the bed and turned that one down low so Buck would be able to see if Ezra awoke during the night. Then after one last check on the gambler's fever... it was up again, he'd have to check in on him again later... the healer finally followed after the others. Nathan pulled the door closed, quietly latching it before turning and walking slowly down to the street... never noticing the large, hulking figure who huddled in the shadows beneath the stairs.
Buck had only been asleep for about an hour when he suddenly jerked awake. He looked quickly down at Ezra, certain that it was the younger man who had roused him, but he was still asleep, sucking his thumb and snoring softly.
"Aw... now isn't that sweet."
Buck jumped at the sound of a strange voice in the clinic, fumbling for his gun before realizing it was across the room on Nathan's dresser. He looked up at the tall, menacing form slowly approaching the bed... with a gun aimed directly at Ezra's head.
"Delacourte... what the hell do you think you're doin'?" Buck kept his voice low, trying not to wake Ezra. He knew the Little One would be terrified and was afraid he might do something to set the intruder off.
"I see you know who I am. Funny, I don't remember havin' the pleasure of makin' your acquaintance yet. But from what Maude's told me... I'm assumin' you're Mr. Wilmington." The attorney moved closer and scowled down at the two in the bed.
"I saw you when you an' that bitch came to town. Now... get that gun away from Ezra and answer my damn question... what the hell are ya doin'?" Buck was furious with himself for letting the son of a bitch get the drop on him.
Delacourte reached down and pulled Ezra's thumb out of his mouth... the gun now poised directly in front of the slowly awakening gambler's face. "Nasty habit... I thought he'd been broken of it." Shifting his eyes back up to Buck's, he feigned an air of surprise. "Why... I'm just doin' my job. Maude wants her son back... and I mean to see that she gets him."
"Over my dead body." Buck wrapped his arms tighter around Ezra and whispered quietly in his ear as he began to stir. "Shush now, Little One... everything's alright."
Ezra stared blearily up at Buck, smiling softly as the older man's face slowly came into focus. "Hi, Buck... is it mornin' aw'weady?"
"My God... Maude wasn't lying... he does think he's a child." MJ smiled evilly as Ezra's gaze quickly shifted to him. He watched all the color quickly drain out of the smaller man's face and saw his eyes widen in shock and fear. His voice dropped to a low, menacing purr as he whispered softly, "Hello, Ezra. I see you remember me."
Buck felt Ezra pushing back against him and could feel the gambler's heart pounding as he stared in horror at the man who hovered over them. "Ezra? Hang on, Little One... it's gonna be-" but Ezra's trembling, horrified voice completely wiped out Buck's words of reassurance.
"Unca Maffew..."
Buck stared at Ezra and then at the man standing over them. He tried to turn the younger man around to face him... apparently he'd been in the middle of another one of his nightmares and was having trouble shaking it. But Ezra refused to budge.
"Come on, pard... you're still dreamin'... wake up now. Your uncle Matthew's not here... that's just your mama's lawyer... Mr. Delacourte." Buck gently rubbed Ezra's arm, trying to bring him out of his dream, even though he was sure the reality of this bastard waving a gun in his face was going to be just as traumatic for the young gambler.
Ezra's eyes stayed glued on the man in front of him as he spoke... his voice shaking and hoarse with the absolute terror that was sweeping through him. "Mama's w'awyerw... MJ... M-maffew James Dewacourwte."
Buck stared at Ezra in confusion. "But we just figured your uncle Matthew's last name was Standish... same as yours..." Understanding finally dawned on the gunman and his face reflected his disgust with how stupid they'd been not to realize... "Maude's brother..."
Delacourte smiled condescendingly at their mental lapse. "Glad to see you finally figured it out. And I'm her baby brother to be exact." He narrowed his eyes as he stared down at his nephew. "I understand Ezra's told you all about the fun he and I used to have when his mother would get sick of him and leave him on my doorstep. I miss our little visits, Ezra. I think it's about time you paid me another one, don't you? A nice... long... visit."
Ezra began to whimper and his hand snaked up to grip Buck's arm, his fingers clutching at the older man's sleeve as he kept trying to remind himself that Buck was here... he'd protect him.
Buck's mind raced as he searched for a way out of the mess they were in, but at the moment there was nothing he could do that wouldn't endanger Ezra... and there was no way he was doing that. Delacourte's gun hand never wavered... not even for a second.
Ezra stared at his uncle as if in a trance, his body trembling uncontrollably, Matthew's words playing over and over again in his mind... 'a nice long visit.' Even lost in his five year old world, the gambler knew he wouldn't be allowed to survive this time.
MJ stepped back from the bed and motioned with the gun. "Alright, Ezra... say goodbye to your friend. Your mother's waitin' at the livery for us, and we've got a long way to go."
Buck's expression darkened and his arms involuntarily tightened around Ezra as he practically growled at Delacourte. "You mean to tell me Maude knows what you're doin'... an' she's goin' along with it?!"
Matthew laughed. "Of course she does. You must know enough about Maude to realize she'll do anything to keep from losin'... even if it means she'll be stuck with my mentally deficient nephew here. But it won't be too bad, because we have great plans for Ezra... as long as he stays the way he is." He stared at the young gambler and his smile slowly faded. "However, once his memory comes back... I'm afraid his usefulness will be over."
Buck felt his anger threaten to boil over as he heard Ezra begin sobbing softly. They both knew what his uncle meant by that statement. "Well, you an' dear old Maude can forget all your fancy plans... 'cause you're not takin' Ezra anywhere." Buck had no idea how he was going to stop Delacourte, but he knew he'd die trying. His eyes strayed toward the entrance to the clinic, praying for someone to come and check on them... any distraction that would allow him to get his hands on that damn gun.
MJ saw Buck glance at the door and shook his head. "You can forget about your friends comin' to the rescue. Right about now they're in the middle of tryin' to break up a rather large brawl in the saloon. You'd be surprised how easy it is to find a few trail hands who are willin' to engage in a little rough-housing for a few dollars. Add in a small bonus and you get a promise to keep the local peacekeepers busy for quite some time."
Delacourte quite enjoyed seeing the hope on the gunslinger's face quickly change to frustration and helplessness. "Now... we really have to be off. Come along, Ezra..." He reached for his nephew's arm and was startled when Ezra struck out at him before turning to cling tightly to Buck's neck. Buck briefly considered making a move on the bigger man, but before he could react, Ezra was pressed up against his chest... right in the path of the gun.
"No!! Buck, hewlp me! Don't let him take me... he's gonna huwt me, Buck!!" Ezra sobbed and pleaded as he buried his face in his big brother's shoulder... trying desperately to shut out the fact that his nightmare had come true... Uncle Matthew was back.
Buck held on tight to Ezra and tried to calm him down. "It's alright, Little One... I won't let 'im hurt ya. Shh... you're gonna be okay."
MJ grimaced and reaching forward, wrapped his huge hand in Ezra's nightshirt and jerked the young gambler out of Buck's arms, dragging him half off the bed before the startled peacekeeper realized what was happening. "Good lord... no wonder Maude wants to take him away from here so badly... you seem to have forgotten he's a grown man, not some little-"
Ezra struggled to get back to the safety of Buck's arms, twisting and turning as he tried to pull himself out of his uncle's iron grip. "I am not a grwown up... I'm jus' a w'ittle boy, an' I bewong to Buck now... Judge Twavis said so!! You can't take me away frwom herwe... he pwomised me!!"
Delacourte had had enough. He knew he had to hurry and get them out of the clinic before someone showed up to stop him. Keeping the gun trained on Wilmington, he managed to catch Ezra off balance and threw him off the bed onto the floor.
Buck tensed, his fingers flexing as he imagined them around the southern bastard's neck. The only thing holding him back was the knowledge that if Delacourte shot him, Ezra would be at his mercy and there would be nothing he could do to help him.
Ezra scrambled to his feet and lunged back toward the bed... back toward Buck. But his uncle was ready for him. Never taking his eyes off of Wilmington, he swung his large meaty fist in a wide arc and viciously back-handed Ezra, knocking him across the room to land in a dazed heap against the door.
"Well, Ezra... I see you've forgotten everything I worked so hard to teach you about respectin' your elders... guess we'll have to work extra hard on that once we get you away from here." Delacourte grinned at the enraged expression on Buck's face as he started to rise up off the bed. "Go ahead, Mr. Wilmington... there's nothin' would make me happier than to shoot you. It's no more than you deserve... considerin' the treatment my dear nephew's obviously been receivin' here."
Buck ignored him and concentrated instead on Ezra, who had pushed himself up into a sitting position, his head leaning weakly back against the door. Blood from a nasty cut just below his right eye trickled slowly down his cheek, blending with the tears that flowed unchecked as the gambler stared back at Buck. "You okay, Little One?"
"Answer him Ezra, and you get another dose of discipline. Understand?" Matthew risked a quick glare in the gambler's direction and was satisfied to see him jerk his gaze away from Wilmington and nod once. Turning his cold, dark eyes back to Buck as he slowly backed away from the bed, he couldn't resist one last parting shot. "What hurts more, Mr. Wilmington... losing to Maude... or losing your pretty little playmate here?"
Buck shot a worried glance at Ezra and saw the look of confusion on his face at his uncle's words and tone of voice. "Shut your filthy mouth, Delacourte... there's no need to be doin' this to 'im."
"Oh, please... I saw you two all snuggled up in that bed together when I came in... heard you call him 'Little One'... what do you expect me to think? After all, look at him. My nephew has grown into quite a handsome young man... but of course, you've already noticed that, haven't you?" Matthew saw the other man tense, his body trembling with the effort he was making to stay on the bed... his eyes never leaving Ezra as he silently tried to reassure him that everything would be alright. Delacourte turned his gaze on his nephew as he finished, his voice soft and snidely suggestive. "So how was he, Wilmington? I always wondered... he was beautiful even as a child, but I was man enough to keep my carnal thoughts to myself... at least while he was little..."
Buck saw Delacourte turn a disgustingly hungry gaze on Ezra, who was huddled against the door, his face a frozen mask of horror... it was obvious that he understood perfectly what that look meant. Buck couldn't help it... he snapped. With an anguished howl of rage, he leaped off the bed straight at the bastard who was torturing his Little One all over again.
MJ was caught off-guard... his lustful thoughts of Ezra had distracted him sufficiently for Buck to get to him before he had time to react. The enraged ladies man wrapped his fingers around Delacourte's gun hand and their life and death dance through the clinic began.
They were pretty evenly matched in height, but Delacourte outweighed Buck by at least fifty pounds, giving him a definite advantage. They took turns slamming each other into the furniture and walls, neither man loosening their hold on the gun as they wrestled for possession of it.
Buck at one point, as Delacourte had him pinned, spotted Ezra still huddled against the wall. "Ezra! Get out... go find Chris, Little One... hurry!!"
MJ never even turned his head, merely shouted an order at his nephew and knew with absolute certainty it would be obeyed. "Move one inch, nephew... and I'll kill him!"
The threat worked exactly like Delacourte knew it would. Ezra was paralyzed with fear and could only watch helplessly from his position on the floor, his heart thundering in his chest, until suddenly, his uncle managed to get Buck bent backward over the table and the gun slowly but surely began to turn toward his best friend. The realization that Uncle Matthew intended to kill Buck anyway finally drove Ezra out of his shock, giving him the strength to push himself up and fling himself at the two men.
Ezra was much shorter than Delacourte and was hampered by his broken arm, but he attacked him in every possible way he could, sobbing and moaning in frustration as he saw the gun continue in its slow arc towards Buck's face. Matthew easily shrugged Ezra off and without losing his hold on the gun for even a second, kicked out and sent the much smaller man flying over the bed.
Buck's concentration was broken when he heard Ezra cry out in pain, and he immediately lost his grip on the gun. Delacourte reacted quickly and slammed the weapon against Buck's head, knocking him off the table. Seeing the man still moving, MJ bent and hit him again, and with an evil grin of satisfaction, watched the other man slump to the floor. He nudged Buck roughly with his boot, and when there was no reaction from the wounded man, hurried over to where Ezra lay sobbing behind the bed.
"Stop your damn bawlin' and get up here. We've got to get out of here now, before more of your foolish friends show up and try to play the hero." Delacourte dragged Ezra roughly to his feet and began shoving him toward the door. As soon as the gambler spotted Buck lying motionless on the floor, he began struggling with his uncle, trying desperately to get to his friend.
"Buck!! Arwe you al-" Ezra started crying loudly for Buck, but was abruptly silenced as Matthew clamped his hand over the younger man's mouth and shook him roughly.
"Shut up, damn it! He's not dead... yet. But keep fightin' me and he will be. Now... are you gonna behave and cooperate with me... or do I have to shoot him?" Delacourte waited until Ezra nodded, and then removed his hand from the gambler's mouth and wrapped it around his arm instead.
Ezra twisted around as his uncle began shoving him out onto the landing, and managed to get one last heart-broken look at Buck before he was forced out of the clinic. "I'm sowwy, Buck..."