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azombiewritesTitle: Quest for Survival
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Main Characters: Ezra
Summary: Ezra is on his way back to Four Corners when a group of men rob him of his possessions and leave him for dead.
Disclaimers: The guys are owned by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, and The Mirisch Corp.
Spoilers: None
Status: Complete
Total Word Count: 22,732
He could see the stream getting closer and his natural need for water kept him going. At that moment in time nothing else did. The pain in his body was getting worse but he tried to shut it out, he had to reach the stream. He licked his lips in anticipation and felt the raw flesh beneath the cracked and dry skin. He stumbled and bit back the scream that wanted to escape his pain-racked body.
When he finally made it, he allowed his body to fall to the ground then he crawled towards the water on one knee. The fresh scent of the small river assaulted his breathing passages and he hurried even more. He could feel the pain in his knee as it continued to scrape along the ground as he moved closer to the river.
"Don't drink too much Ezra."
He heard the soft voice but ignored it, he needed to drink as much as he could, and he might not get another chance.
"Ezra, remember what Nathan said."
He continued to crawl, he could reach out now and place his fingers in the water that he knew would be cold to touch. He was looking forward to removing the heat in his body. He wanted to immerse his painful form in the cool liquid, the hope that it would take away the pain controlled him.
"EZRA! It will make you sick."
Ezra didn't stop, he couldn't, and he needed the water.
"EZRA! What would Nathan tell you to do!?"
The use of Nathan's name stopped him. He turned his head to look at the man who was helping him to survive. His clouded green eyes glanced towards the water then back again.
"He would tell you to take small sips until your stomach can deal with it. Too much will make you sick."
Ezra nodded, the last thing he wanted to do was to be sick. The pain that would erupt from his damaged ribs would be excruciating. He wasn't sure if they were broken or cracked, he wasn't willing to find out. The pain was enough to tell him that something was wrong. But he did know there was no internal bleeding; he would be dead now if there was. His thoughts changed to the water in front of him. Nathan's voice began to echo in his mind. The gentle voice told him what to do, he refused to be stubborn and not follow orders, not this time, he wanted and needed Nathan Jackson's help.
He leant over the streams edge, his reflection looked back up at him. The waters gentle movements distorted his image making it look worse than it actually was. He saw the raw flesh beneath the dirt and dried blood on his cheek. He wiped at the blood stained features hoping to remove the offending filth from his face. It wouldn't come off, he needed water to clean himself. His unnatural habit of being immaculately clean took control. He became obsessed with being clean, he thought it would bring stability to his situation. He put his hands into the water and scrubbed his face the best he could with bounded hands, he ignored the pain it caused.
"Ezra. Stop."
He couldn't, he began to panic, and his movements were out of control. He needed to be clean, he needed to be home in a warm bed with his friends surrounding him. But would they be there for him. He finally admitted needing them but did they need him, did they want him around or would they be glad to be rid of him. He was confused. He continued to scrub at his face and temple trying to get the blood and dirt off. He forgot about the thirst that had controlled him earlier, a new need had taken over his mind.
"Ezra. Stop."
He heard the voice and ignored it. He had to be clean, his mother would chastise him for his appearance. His Uncle would beat him for becoming so dirty. He had to get clean. His breathing came in short sharp breaths. He was panicking. The fear grew stronger and his efforts became more rigorous. Fresh blood began to seep from the wounds, if Ezra stopped to look, he would see a tinge of yellow mucus on his hands. But he didn't stop to look, his mind had lost its grip on reality, he was in a different world. Fear and delirium controlled his sick mind.
His mother's voice berated him, his Uncle's hand beat him. All because he was covered in dirt. It was normal for a child to get dirty while they played but not him, he was never allowed to become dirty. A habit had become engraved in his mind. He now hated being dirty, sometimes his mind even imagined that dirt covered his clothing. He had to be clean.
Pain finally began to register within his confused mind bringing him back to the real world. A world full of pain, fear and loneliness. He smelt the water in front of him once again. His eyes focused on the stream and realised what he had done. He could see and smell the blood running down the side of his face.
"You need to calm down Ezra."
Ezra tried to do as he was told. He had lost control, he couldn't allow that to happen again, he would never get back to town. He turned his head towards the sound of the voice. The sight of the man comforted him in a way he was not use to. It was a feeling of comfort that he had never felt during his life.
"I don't know what happened."
"You're scared Ezra, it's only natural."
"I'm weak. You were right."
"You're not weak Ezra, this situation would scare anybody."
"But I'm not anybody." Ezra looked away from him, his reflecting green eyes stared back up at him. He could see the pain and fear in his eyes. "I'm supposed to in control at all times, it's the way I was brought up. I can't let my weak side show."
"There is no one here to see that side of you Ezra."
"People won't help someone who's weak."
"You would Ezra."
Yes he would, he always did. He couldn't stand to see someone in trouble, someone who was weak and unable to protect themselves. It stemmed from his childhood. The people who beat him were always bigger, stronger and more violent. From a young age, he had always protected the smaller children. As an adult, he would never pull a con on men or woman who was poor. He would never cheat a man of all his money at the gambling table. If the person was rich, it was a different matter, they could afford to lose the money. The less off ones couldn't. He wasn't willing to make life worse for them. Sometimes he even made sure that they won, knowing that the money he allowed them to win would put a decent meal on the families table or a new pair of shoes or dress for their children. Doing that made him happy.
"Drink some water Ezra."
"A little bit?" Ezra asked doubtfully.
"Yes Ezra. Small amounts to start with."
Ezra nodded again like an obedient child and moved his face closer to the water. He closed his eyes so he couldn't see the fearful image that stared back at him. He felt the pain erupt throughout his body as he shivered when the cold water gently touched his lips. He drank a small amount of water like he was told then waited. He felt his stomach roll violently in protest and he quickly turned to the side as his stomach attempted to empty itself. It failed.
"Take another drink Ezra."
He accepted the encouragement and did as he was told. This time he felt the cool water flow through his parched lips and down his dry throat. He welcomed it and continued to drink.
"That's enough Ezra."
He stopped immediately.
"Clean your wounds."
He obeyed this man with as much vigour as he would stubbornly refuse to obey anyone else. Including his mother and Chris Larabee. This man was helping like no one else had. Something told him to trust this man, that he could trust him with his life. He carefully placed his face under the water’s surface, the chill of the water invigorated him, and it contracted the muscles around his skull and eased the pain he was feeling. He lifted his head and allowed the water to run down his face and neck. He felt the water become warm on his skin as his body heat drew the coolness out of the moisture. He revelled in the feeling as it ran down his back. He looked around to find the man sitting next to him.
"My hands?"
"I don't know what the water will do to the ropes."
"There already wet." Ezra told him.
The man nodded for him to continue.
Ezra did. All he could do was to rinse them in the water. The blood was too dry to be removed, he would have to accept it. He wasn't going to get clean, he would have to stay dirty. He cringed at the thought. He needed to get home. He wanted a hot bath and Nathan's help to clean his wounds. If they cared about him enough they may even sit with him and talk to him. Help him through his ordeal.
"Drink some more water Ezra then start walking again."
He silently groaned at the thought of walking again. His feet hurt, his knee screamed at him, telling him how serious the injury to his knee must be. His side and chest burned each time he took a breath. This was his chance to rest and now this man wanted him to start walking again. He didn't argue. Ezra Standish did as he was told. He didn't want to die while the others thought that he had run out on them. He had to get up and walk. Besides, the man who sat by him would not allow him to die out here. He would get him home, he was sure of it. The man knew the right things to say to get him angry enough to fight back. This man was going to save his life, he was sure of that.
Ezra didn't consider emerging his injured knee in the cold water in the hope of bringing the swelling down. He was also unaware of the infected deep cut along his side. He continued to walk on his bruised and cut feet, still unaware of the dirt and blood that covered his uncleaned feet.
He looked sideways at the man who walked with him. The man didn't return the look. Ezra moved his eyes back to the direction he was walking in. His leg was managing to take a small amount of his weight but he didn't know how it would stand would stand up to the torture. He tried to mentally measure the time it was taking him to walk by watching the sun move across the sky so he could determine the amount of time it would take him to walk home.
Home. Four Corners was now going to be his home, but it would be on two conditions. One; that he made it back. Two; Chris Larabee and the others would allow him to stay and become their friend. He was afraid that wouldn't happen. Chris would be angry when - no if - he returned home. Angry about what happened, even though it was not the gambler's fault. There would be also the fact that they would think he had betrayed them and run out on them. But he didn't, he had to get home and convince them that he had not betrayed them. In reality he would do anything for those men, even give his life to protect them. It was something else he wouldn't admit to aloud or to them.
"They won't ask you to leave."
"How could you know that?"
"I know what you want Ezra. I know what you really believe. You won't accept any of it."
"Such as?" Ezra raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You think they don't trust you but deep down you know they do. You don’t trust Ezra Standish. You think that you'll run out on them. You need to have more faith in yourself Ezra."
Ezra looked away from him. It was true about not trusting himself. It had been that way all his life. He knew it had a lot to do with his mother's trade. She had taught him everything he knew but not everything she knew. She had told him to look after number one. That was Ezra Standish. There had been many times when his mother had left him to take the punishment after a con had gone bad. She had run out on him, she was looking after number one. Herself. He was afraid that he would do the same thing to his friends.
"You know you wouldn't. You would do anything for those men."
"I know that but I don't trust myself."
"You say you would do anything and at the same time you say you don't trust yourself to stay. If you are willing to give your life for them then you do trust yourself. It's just something else you won't admit to Ezra."
"My heart thinks one way and my brain tells me something else."
"Your brain is your mother talking."
Ezra looked at the man and saw a smile crease his features. The expression made him look more familiar to him. He also knew the man was right. His willingness to give his life for his friends meant that he did trust himself. Why hadn't he realised that before. He knew that he would never run out on them, he would rather die than abandon them.
"How do I know they trust me?"
"Ask them."
It was a simple enough statement and the most obvious thing to do. He had to talk to them about his doubts, only one problem though. Talking about his feelings was the hardest thing for him to do, so far in his life he had been incapable of relaying his feelings to anyone; not that he actually had anyone to talk to about how he felt. Now that he did, he wasn't sure he would be able to do it.
"You need a name." Ezra told him.
"Wade."
Ezra stopped in his tracks. He was too stunned to even notice that he had put more weight onto his injured knee. Now he knew why the man's appearance was familiar to him. He looked like his grandfather. Ezra had only met his father's father twice when he was a young child. He had been the only person in his life that had treated him like a child. He played games with him, made him laugh and allowed him to get dirty. He had liked the man instantly. On the second visit his mother had grandfather had a terrible argument and he never saw him again.
"That was my grandfather's name."
"I know Ezra, I'm you remember. I have your thoughts and memories too."
"You even look like him."
"You remember what he looked like."
"Wade." Ezra repeated the name.
"Don't change the subject."
"Do you think they would give their lives to protect me?"
"Truthfully Ezra, I don't know."
"I'll have to ask them." Ezra added to Wade's answer.
"Yes."
"I need to rest." He didn't know how long it had been since he left the stream, he'd lost track of time. It was no longer within sight. He looked up at the sun to see how far it had crossed over in the clear sky. He winced at the glare and looked away. His confused mind couldn't give him an answer.
Ezra clumsily fell onto his right knee then collapsed onto his side. He grunted in pain and made himself a promise to be more careful next time. He didn't want to keep adding to his pain. His eyes looked for Wade. He was sitting cross-legged in front of him. Ezra smiled, he was glad he wasn't alone. He had a friend who wouldn't leave him.
"I won't leave you Ezra, not while you need me."
Ezra closed his eyes and felt the cool breeze gently caress his exposed skin. Hopes and dreams began to fill his mind as he drifted off into a darker world. A world where his hopes and dreams were shattered and his nightmares became a reality. He dreamed of this world often, nearly every night for over a year when he was fourteen. His mother had finally stopped leaving him with relatives and his hope of finally gaining a mother who would love him was shattered and his nightmare existence had continued. His dreams only stopped when he ran away. His mother was always able to find him, he didn't know how. She always managed to convince him into taking part in one of her schemes. He tolerated her knowing that when the con was over he could leave and be on his own again. He had become use to being on his own. It had been that way all his life, even when he was with people. But he was never able to fully free himself of her clutches.
________________________________________
Darkness surrounded him, night had fallen while he drifted in and out of an emotional, pain-filled world. His eyes searched his immediate surroundings looking for his friend. He was nowhere to be seen.
"Wade?" The fear the suddenly squeezed his heart could be heard in his voice but there was no one to hear it.
"Wade?"
He had left him. Wade said he wouldn't.
"Wade!"
No answer, just absolute silence.
"WADE!!" Ezra screamed into the night. "Wade." The last was spoken in a desperate whisper.
"I'm here Ezra."
Ezra whimpered in relief. "I thought you left me."
"Like everyone else?"
"Yes."
"Go back to sleep Ezra."
"You won't leave me again?"
"No Ezra. I'll be here."
This time his leg wasn't doing so well, he had woken up to find it twisted under his right leg, just as it had been after he'd fallen. That wasn't right though, he hadn't fallen, and he’d been thrown over a cliff, hadn't he. He wasn't so sure anymore. He looked down at his hands, they were tied together. The raw flesh was filled with dirt, his hands were slightly purple but he could still feel them. Who had tied them? The men who had robbed him of his possessions. He remembered now.
Ezra looked around to see if any part of the surrounding land was familiar to him. It wasn't. Maybe he was going in the wrong direction. What if he was walking away from Four Corners instead of towards it. He stopped, he needed to think. He can't be going the wrong way, all of his efforts would be wasted. The pain he was enduring would all be for nothing. He wouldn't be able to tell the others that he came back, that he didn't run away. They would continue thinking that he betrayed them.
"I don't know if I'm going the right way." Ezra turned around, his movements were becoming frantic. His face was contorted with confusion.
"Stop and think Ezra."
He wanted to take a deep breath to help calm his fear but he knew it would hurt. There was already too much pain. He didn't want more. He didn't think he could take it anymore. The thought of the pain continuing caused his fear to grow even more. He could feel his chest tighten with fear.
"I don't know where I am."
"Take a deep breath Ezra and try to calm down."
"I can't, there's too much pain. You should know that!"
"Sit down and rest for a while Ezra then try again."
Ezra didn't argue, he was tired and his body was retaliating by the use of pain. His body was torturing him. He didn't know why, he hadn't done anything wrong. The men had taken his father's watch. It had been given to him after his father had died. He was told it had belong to his father. It had been passed down from father to son and then to him. It had been Wade Standish's watch. The thought caused a tear to well up in his left eye. He blinked and the tear fell down his cheek. He was scared and in pain. He had to get back home, he had to get to his friends. He needed them, their help and Nathan's medical care. Without them he would die.
"Don't worry Ezra, you'll make it."
"I'm not sure anymore."
"Try again Ezra."
He slowly turned around making sure that he didn't put any more weight onto his injured leg than he had to. His forehead creased up as something began to look familiar to him. The mountains in the distance, he had seen them before, passed the sight often. He turned his head to the left looking for another landmark that he knew would be there. A group of trees sat at the base of a hill. There would be a trail that would take a rider passed the trees, it would then turn to the East where Four Corners lay six miles further on. He knew where he was now. The fear retreated and his confidence grew once again. He was now willing to push himself to get home. If he kept going, he should be home soon. Would they allow him to come back. He hoped with all his heart that they would.
He continued to walk with a limp until late in the afternoon, he had walked all day with little rest. He had surprised himself with his efforts. His only thought was Nathan Jackson, he needed his help and was willing to ask for it. He had ignored the pain in his body but could no longer do it. He would have to stop, he didn't want to but he couldn't go any further. The pain was becoming too much for him, his body was exhausted. He had to stop before he collapsed, if he did that he may not get up again.
He stopped and carefully laid down, he didn't look for any cover, and he lay in the open. He looked at Wade who nodded back at him. Words were not needed, they were now friends, and they understood each other. Ezra liked the man, he drew a comforting feeling from the man that no one else had been able to give him. Wade would say that he had never allowed anyone to give him that feeling before but that wasn't necessarily true. He had no memory of anyone wanting to make him feel wanted, cared about, even loved. His relationship with his mother always made him feel like a business associate instead of a son whom she loved. But now he had someone, he had Wade. He knew this man was his friend, the friendship that was offered to him was unconditional, and it was what he had wanted all his life. A smile crossed his handsome features as he drifted off into another world of dreams and nightmares.
________________________________________
He made it, he was finally home. Ezra stood on the edge of town, he didn't want to go any further, and he wasn't sure of what was awaiting him. Open arms or his marching orders. He expected the latter. He took hope in his courage and began to walk towards the clinic. Maybe if he faced Nathan on his own he'd be okay. The healer could take care of his wounds before Chris Larabee found out he was back. The town was quiet, the street fires were now cold embers. The sun would be coming up soon and the natural light would reveal the town’s buildings and wake the sleeping occupants that lived within them.
He was nearing the steps that led to the clinic when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned quickly but saw no one. He waited but the noise didn't repeat itself. He sighed and hung his head, he was hearing things now. He had to get to Nathan, he would help him. He climbed the stairs and made it to the top without any incidents. He used his elbow to knock on the door. It was a few minutes before he received an answer.
He looked at the dark features that stared back at him. "Nathan."
"Look who came back." Nathan growled at him. "We thought you run out on us again."
"No. I was . . . "
"Chris is going to kill you when he finds out your back."
"Why?" Ezra asked him. He was afraid, he didn't want to be but he had hoped that they would help him. He was obviously wrong. "I didn't run out on you guys, I was robbed . . . I . . . "
"Ezra Standish!"
Ezra winced at the tone of Larabee's voice. He turned around to face his leader. He felt the fist connect with his already injured face. He fell to the floor and a cry of pain escaped him. He felt someone's boot connect with his ribs.
"I told you I'd kill you if you ever run out on me again." Chris kicked him again.
"I didn't run out on you!" Ezra yelled as he curled himself into a tighter ball to protect himself.
He could hear six voices accusing him of running out on them. Boots continued to kick him. His own voice kept
screaming at them to stop. They didn't, they wouldn't. They were going to kill him. He screamed one last time.
________________________________________
Ezra jerked awake while the scream still sounded in his ears. He could feel his heart pounding. The fear still filled him but confusion stopped him from remembering the dream. He wanted to get home. He looked around at the surrounding darkness. If he got up now and started walking, he would get lost. He closed his eyes and tried to ease his fear, he knew Wade would be nearby. He concentrated on the man who was helping him.
"Go back to sleep Ezra."
Ezra did as he was told. He would do anything that Wade told him to do. He trusted the man with his life.
The rain began to fall lightly as the man tossed and turned in his world of nightmares. The moisture began to soften the dried dirt and blood and wash it away revealing the nasty wounds and bruises that now marred the once handsome visage. The man's countenance was contorted in emotional pain as his feverish mind played with his fears.
Ezra jerked awake at the feel of the cold rain hitting his face. His confusion caused him to try to sit up, he fell back to the ground as the pain tore through him. A tremor racked his body in protest to the cold. A chill had settled into his bones causing them to ache. He groaned at the thought of more pain.
"You okay Ezra?"
"I don't feel so good Wade."
"I'm sorry Ezra."
"Not your fault." he tried to smile but he couldn't. He just wanted his torment to end.
"You need to get out of the rain Ezra."
"I don't think I can move."
"Yes you can. You don't have a choice."
Ezra nodded. He waited a moment then began the painful struggle to get to his feet. He felt a slight wave of dizziness and expected to fall back to the ground. He didn't. So far, things were going his way, he hoped it lasted long enough for him to get home. He knew that if it weren’t Wade he would die where he was. His body would never be found. He finally stood erect and looked around at his surroundings. He found it difficult to see in the darkness. The sky was full of clouds that were still overflowing with soft droplets of rain. He tried wiping the dampness from his face but it was a futile effort because the rain continued to bath his face and body with water.
"Hurry Ezra."
"I can't hurry on this leg."
"Yes you can."
"But I don't know which way to go."
"Yes you do! Now stop making excuses and move!"
"You know, sometimes you sound just like Chris Larabee." Ezra growled at him as he began to make his way towards the protection that would keep him out of the rain.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant to be an insult." Ezra muttered.
________________________________________
His eyes opened but they saw nothing, he blinked repeatedly as he tried to clear his vision. The fog that drifted around his mind cut off all reality. He had no idea where he was or what was wrong with him. He had a feeling that he should be doing something, going somewhere but he couldn't remember. He gave up on trying to see, he settled his head back down on the soft ground and closed his eyes. He tried to remember where he was but couldn't. It was useless, he couldn't break through the thick fog that clouded his memory.
His features creased up as he realised he was alone and in pain. Where were his friends. Did they leave him. No, he remembered, he left them and didn't go back. He'd run out on them. But what was wrong with him. Why was there pain. He shifted his body to test it and clenched his teeth against the pain that answered his question. There was something seriously wrong and he didn't know what it was. His ears registered the sound of rain but he couldn't feel it on his face. He must be undercover. He knew he wasn't inside a building, the ground was damp and he was cold. Nothing covered his body to keep him warm.
He could smell blood and knew instantly that it was his own. The smell caused images to break through the fog. He could see the men who were beating him. Their faces belonged to his friends. Why? Because he had run out on them of course. They were angry at him, and showed him their anger by using their fists. Chris Larabee had told him once that he would kill him if he ran out on him again. That must have been what happened but he had escaped their physical attack because he was still alive. Now he was injured and alone out in the middle of nowhere. But he wasn't alone. There was someone there with him. He forced himself to concentrate. His grandfather was with him. Wade Standish. He allowed the comfort of his maternal grandfather to help him drift back into a deeper sleep.
________________________________________
The sun broke through the trees and shown down on the figure that was huddled against a large tree trunk. The form was shivering uncontrollably. A slight moan escaped his bleeding lips. The man didn't awaken until the sun was high above him in the cloudless sky. The clouds had moved on into the distance but there would be more to replace them and bring more rain to the already soaked earth.
He was blind again but this time it was due to the sun shining in his eyes. He turned his head away from the painful glare and looked into Wade's eyes. The man looked so much like his grandfather. Ezra had never forgotten his face, it had been etched into his mind's eye and yet he couldn't remember what his own father looked like. He knew he had gotten his green eyes and dimples from him, his grandfather had told him that. He couldn't understand why he could remember the face of a man he'd only spent two days with and yet couldn't remember the face of the man he had spent the first five years of his life with.
"Grandfather."
"No Ezra, I'm you. Don't you remember?"
"Me?" It took a few minutes but he did finally remember.
Wade claimed to be him, that he'd come from his mind to help him get home. His eyes took on a distant look. "What will happen to you when I get home?"
"I'll leave."
"Do you have too?"
"I don't know Ezra. It'll be up to you."
Ezra nodded. He didn't want his friend to leave him. He trusted the man with his life. If the men in Four Corners didn't accept him back then he would still need Wade. Where would he go if he couldn't stay with the six men. He had no idea. He no longer had a horse or the money to buy one. They would not give him one, he would have to leave on foot. Would they even give him a coat to keep off the closing winter's chill. He didn't know. He was beginning to think that he shouldn't try to go home. He could walk in another direction and hopefully meet up with someone who could take care of his wounds until he was strong enough to get to the nearest town where he could win enough money to get himself back into his life.
But he wanted his friends to do that. He wanted them to take care of him like no one else had. He wanted Nathan to take care of his injuries. He wanted Buck and JD to sit with him and talk to him. He wanted Josiah's assurance that everything would be okay, that he would take care of him. He wanted Vin's presence so he would know that he was safe and no more harm would come to him. And most of all, he wanted Chris' acceptance of being back home and his forgiveness for all of the mistakes he'd made since Chris had hired him. He wanted his friends to surround him. He was afraid that they wouldn't and he would be alone. Wade said that he would leave once he was better. He forced the thoughts from his mind. If he kept thinking that way, he would never get home.
He continued to walk even though his body was screaming at him to stop. His mind and heart refused to listen. He knew he was getting closer to home. His need urged him on. The fear he felt at being not accepted back into the group was even stronger. If anything stopped him now it would be that fear. Wade was walking by his side ready to encourage him if he faltered in his determination to get home. The rain was yet to return so Ezra was getting as much distance past him as his injured leg would allow. It wasn't much. His movements were slow, his body was weakening quickly. If he didn't get home soon he never would.
He didn't know how much time had passed, he had no recollection of the days that had gone by. For all he knew it could have been only two days or two weeks. No. Two weeks was too long, he would have died if it had been that long. It must have been only a matter of days. He would be home soon, if he didn't collapse and die first. He passed by another landmark that he was familiar with. He was getting closer and as he did his fear grew in intensity. He stopped, his heart was pounding in his chest, and the sweat was running down his face and back.
"I can't Wade. I can't go home." Ezra whispered.
"Why not?"
"They'll beat me, tell me to leave town." Ezra looked at his friend. "I don't know what I'll do without them. I finally found people who were trying to be my friend and I wouldn't accept it. I pushed them away, wouldn't let them get close and now that I'm willing to them I made a stupid mistake and I've lost them."
"It wasn't your mistake Ezra. Larabee sent you out there, no one else."
"I shouldn't have made him angry that night."
"You didn't Ezra. You did nothing wrong. You'll realise that when you get home."
"What if they won't let me come back?" Ezra needed reassurance to continue. He feared that the dreams he had would become a reality. He couldn't lose these men, not now.
"You have to go back Ezra, even if only to prove to them that you didn't run out on them."
"What if they don't believe me?"
"They'll believe what they see Ezra."
He looked down at himself. He was a mess. His body was covered in dirt and blood. He winced at the sight of his wrists. His eyes travelled towards his knee. It was still swollen, the knee was pressing against the material of his trousers. There was no blood so the injury must be internal. He then looked at his feet. They were also covered in dirt and blood but he felt no pain coming from his damaged limbs.
"Keep walking Ezra."
Ezra did as he was told. His mind started to fill with a thin film of mist. Nausea started to gather and roll in his stomach. His head had been hurting but now it began to ache with a passion. He didn't think he was going to make it.
"You will Ezra."
He felt a slight hope that Wade had confidence in him. He didn't want to let his friend down. He didn't want to lose Wade as well as the rest of the men who had been willing to be his friend but the fear continued and so did his pain, both emotionally and physically.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Master Fan Fiction List
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
Main Characters: Ezra
Summary: Ezra is on his way back to Four Corners when a group of men rob him of his possessions and leave him for dead.
Disclaimers: The guys are owned by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, and The Mirisch Corp.
Spoilers: None
Status: Complete
Total Word Count: 22,732
He could see the stream getting closer and his natural need for water kept him going. At that moment in time nothing else did. The pain in his body was getting worse but he tried to shut it out, he had to reach the stream. He licked his lips in anticipation and felt the raw flesh beneath the cracked and dry skin. He stumbled and bit back the scream that wanted to escape his pain-racked body.
When he finally made it, he allowed his body to fall to the ground then he crawled towards the water on one knee. The fresh scent of the small river assaulted his breathing passages and he hurried even more. He could feel the pain in his knee as it continued to scrape along the ground as he moved closer to the river.
"Don't drink too much Ezra."
He heard the soft voice but ignored it, he needed to drink as much as he could, and he might not get another chance.
"Ezra, remember what Nathan said."
He continued to crawl, he could reach out now and place his fingers in the water that he knew would be cold to touch. He was looking forward to removing the heat in his body. He wanted to immerse his painful form in the cool liquid, the hope that it would take away the pain controlled him.
"EZRA! It will make you sick."
Ezra didn't stop, he couldn't, and he needed the water.
"EZRA! What would Nathan tell you to do!?"
The use of Nathan's name stopped him. He turned his head to look at the man who was helping him to survive. His clouded green eyes glanced towards the water then back again.
"He would tell you to take small sips until your stomach can deal with it. Too much will make you sick."
Ezra nodded, the last thing he wanted to do was to be sick. The pain that would erupt from his damaged ribs would be excruciating. He wasn't sure if they were broken or cracked, he wasn't willing to find out. The pain was enough to tell him that something was wrong. But he did know there was no internal bleeding; he would be dead now if there was. His thoughts changed to the water in front of him. Nathan's voice began to echo in his mind. The gentle voice told him what to do, he refused to be stubborn and not follow orders, not this time, he wanted and needed Nathan Jackson's help.
He leant over the streams edge, his reflection looked back up at him. The waters gentle movements distorted his image making it look worse than it actually was. He saw the raw flesh beneath the dirt and dried blood on his cheek. He wiped at the blood stained features hoping to remove the offending filth from his face. It wouldn't come off, he needed water to clean himself. His unnatural habit of being immaculately clean took control. He became obsessed with being clean, he thought it would bring stability to his situation. He put his hands into the water and scrubbed his face the best he could with bounded hands, he ignored the pain it caused.
"Ezra. Stop."
He couldn't, he began to panic, and his movements were out of control. He needed to be clean, he needed to be home in a warm bed with his friends surrounding him. But would they be there for him. He finally admitted needing them but did they need him, did they want him around or would they be glad to be rid of him. He was confused. He continued to scrub at his face and temple trying to get the blood and dirt off. He forgot about the thirst that had controlled him earlier, a new need had taken over his mind.
"Ezra. Stop."
He heard the voice and ignored it. He had to be clean, his mother would chastise him for his appearance. His Uncle would beat him for becoming so dirty. He had to get clean. His breathing came in short sharp breaths. He was panicking. The fear grew stronger and his efforts became more rigorous. Fresh blood began to seep from the wounds, if Ezra stopped to look, he would see a tinge of yellow mucus on his hands. But he didn't stop to look, his mind had lost its grip on reality, he was in a different world. Fear and delirium controlled his sick mind.
His mother's voice berated him, his Uncle's hand beat him. All because he was covered in dirt. It was normal for a child to get dirty while they played but not him, he was never allowed to become dirty. A habit had become engraved in his mind. He now hated being dirty, sometimes his mind even imagined that dirt covered his clothing. He had to be clean.
Pain finally began to register within his confused mind bringing him back to the real world. A world full of pain, fear and loneliness. He smelt the water in front of him once again. His eyes focused on the stream and realised what he had done. He could see and smell the blood running down the side of his face.
"You need to calm down Ezra."
Ezra tried to do as he was told. He had lost control, he couldn't allow that to happen again, he would never get back to town. He turned his head towards the sound of the voice. The sight of the man comforted him in a way he was not use to. It was a feeling of comfort that he had never felt during his life.
"I don't know what happened."
"You're scared Ezra, it's only natural."
"I'm weak. You were right."
"You're not weak Ezra, this situation would scare anybody."
"But I'm not anybody." Ezra looked away from him, his reflecting green eyes stared back up at him. He could see the pain and fear in his eyes. "I'm supposed to in control at all times, it's the way I was brought up. I can't let my weak side show."
"There is no one here to see that side of you Ezra."
"People won't help someone who's weak."
"You would Ezra."
Yes he would, he always did. He couldn't stand to see someone in trouble, someone who was weak and unable to protect themselves. It stemmed from his childhood. The people who beat him were always bigger, stronger and more violent. From a young age, he had always protected the smaller children. As an adult, he would never pull a con on men or woman who was poor. He would never cheat a man of all his money at the gambling table. If the person was rich, it was a different matter, they could afford to lose the money. The less off ones couldn't. He wasn't willing to make life worse for them. Sometimes he even made sure that they won, knowing that the money he allowed them to win would put a decent meal on the families table or a new pair of shoes or dress for their children. Doing that made him happy.
"Drink some water Ezra."
"A little bit?" Ezra asked doubtfully.
"Yes Ezra. Small amounts to start with."
Ezra nodded again like an obedient child and moved his face closer to the water. He closed his eyes so he couldn't see the fearful image that stared back at him. He felt the pain erupt throughout his body as he shivered when the cold water gently touched his lips. He drank a small amount of water like he was told then waited. He felt his stomach roll violently in protest and he quickly turned to the side as his stomach attempted to empty itself. It failed.
"Take another drink Ezra."
He accepted the encouragement and did as he was told. This time he felt the cool water flow through his parched lips and down his dry throat. He welcomed it and continued to drink.
"That's enough Ezra."
He stopped immediately.
"Clean your wounds."
He obeyed this man with as much vigour as he would stubbornly refuse to obey anyone else. Including his mother and Chris Larabee. This man was helping like no one else had. Something told him to trust this man, that he could trust him with his life. He carefully placed his face under the water’s surface, the chill of the water invigorated him, and it contracted the muscles around his skull and eased the pain he was feeling. He lifted his head and allowed the water to run down his face and neck. He felt the water become warm on his skin as his body heat drew the coolness out of the moisture. He revelled in the feeling as it ran down his back. He looked around to find the man sitting next to him.
"My hands?"
"I don't know what the water will do to the ropes."
"There already wet." Ezra told him.
The man nodded for him to continue.
Ezra did. All he could do was to rinse them in the water. The blood was too dry to be removed, he would have to accept it. He wasn't going to get clean, he would have to stay dirty. He cringed at the thought. He needed to get home. He wanted a hot bath and Nathan's help to clean his wounds. If they cared about him enough they may even sit with him and talk to him. Help him through his ordeal.
"Drink some more water Ezra then start walking again."
He silently groaned at the thought of walking again. His feet hurt, his knee screamed at him, telling him how serious the injury to his knee must be. His side and chest burned each time he took a breath. This was his chance to rest and now this man wanted him to start walking again. He didn't argue. Ezra Standish did as he was told. He didn't want to die while the others thought that he had run out on them. He had to get up and walk. Besides, the man who sat by him would not allow him to die out here. He would get him home, he was sure of it. The man knew the right things to say to get him angry enough to fight back. This man was going to save his life, he was sure of that.
Ezra didn't consider emerging his injured knee in the cold water in the hope of bringing the swelling down. He was also unaware of the infected deep cut along his side. He continued to walk on his bruised and cut feet, still unaware of the dirt and blood that covered his uncleaned feet.
He looked sideways at the man who walked with him. The man didn't return the look. Ezra moved his eyes back to the direction he was walking in. His leg was managing to take a small amount of his weight but he didn't know how it would stand would stand up to the torture. He tried to mentally measure the time it was taking him to walk by watching the sun move across the sky so he could determine the amount of time it would take him to walk home.
Home. Four Corners was now going to be his home, but it would be on two conditions. One; that he made it back. Two; Chris Larabee and the others would allow him to stay and become their friend. He was afraid that wouldn't happen. Chris would be angry when - no if - he returned home. Angry about what happened, even though it was not the gambler's fault. There would be also the fact that they would think he had betrayed them and run out on them. But he didn't, he had to get home and convince them that he had not betrayed them. In reality he would do anything for those men, even give his life to protect them. It was something else he wouldn't admit to aloud or to them.
"They won't ask you to leave."
"How could you know that?"
"I know what you want Ezra. I know what you really believe. You won't accept any of it."
"Such as?" Ezra raised a questioning eyebrow.
"You think they don't trust you but deep down you know they do. You don’t trust Ezra Standish. You think that you'll run out on them. You need to have more faith in yourself Ezra."
Ezra looked away from him. It was true about not trusting himself. It had been that way all his life. He knew it had a lot to do with his mother's trade. She had taught him everything he knew but not everything she knew. She had told him to look after number one. That was Ezra Standish. There had been many times when his mother had left him to take the punishment after a con had gone bad. She had run out on him, she was looking after number one. Herself. He was afraid that he would do the same thing to his friends.
"You know you wouldn't. You would do anything for those men."
"I know that but I don't trust myself."
"You say you would do anything and at the same time you say you don't trust yourself to stay. If you are willing to give your life for them then you do trust yourself. It's just something else you won't admit to Ezra."
"My heart thinks one way and my brain tells me something else."
"Your brain is your mother talking."
Ezra looked at the man and saw a smile crease his features. The expression made him look more familiar to him. He also knew the man was right. His willingness to give his life for his friends meant that he did trust himself. Why hadn't he realised that before. He knew that he would never run out on them, he would rather die than abandon them.
"How do I know they trust me?"
"Ask them."
It was a simple enough statement and the most obvious thing to do. He had to talk to them about his doubts, only one problem though. Talking about his feelings was the hardest thing for him to do, so far in his life he had been incapable of relaying his feelings to anyone; not that he actually had anyone to talk to about how he felt. Now that he did, he wasn't sure he would be able to do it.
"You need a name." Ezra told him.
"Wade."
Ezra stopped in his tracks. He was too stunned to even notice that he had put more weight onto his injured knee. Now he knew why the man's appearance was familiar to him. He looked like his grandfather. Ezra had only met his father's father twice when he was a young child. He had been the only person in his life that had treated him like a child. He played games with him, made him laugh and allowed him to get dirty. He had liked the man instantly. On the second visit his mother had grandfather had a terrible argument and he never saw him again.
"That was my grandfather's name."
"I know Ezra, I'm you remember. I have your thoughts and memories too."
"You even look like him."
"You remember what he looked like."
"Wade." Ezra repeated the name.
"Don't change the subject."
"Do you think they would give their lives to protect me?"
"Truthfully Ezra, I don't know."
"I'll have to ask them." Ezra added to Wade's answer.
"Yes."
"I need to rest." He didn't know how long it had been since he left the stream, he'd lost track of time. It was no longer within sight. He looked up at the sun to see how far it had crossed over in the clear sky. He winced at the glare and looked away. His confused mind couldn't give him an answer.
Ezra clumsily fell onto his right knee then collapsed onto his side. He grunted in pain and made himself a promise to be more careful next time. He didn't want to keep adding to his pain. His eyes looked for Wade. He was sitting cross-legged in front of him. Ezra smiled, he was glad he wasn't alone. He had a friend who wouldn't leave him.
"I won't leave you Ezra, not while you need me."
Ezra closed his eyes and felt the cool breeze gently caress his exposed skin. Hopes and dreams began to fill his mind as he drifted off into a darker world. A world where his hopes and dreams were shattered and his nightmares became a reality. He dreamed of this world often, nearly every night for over a year when he was fourteen. His mother had finally stopped leaving him with relatives and his hope of finally gaining a mother who would love him was shattered and his nightmare existence had continued. His dreams only stopped when he ran away. His mother was always able to find him, he didn't know how. She always managed to convince him into taking part in one of her schemes. He tolerated her knowing that when the con was over he could leave and be on his own again. He had become use to being on his own. It had been that way all his life, even when he was with people. But he was never able to fully free himself of her clutches.
________________________________________
Darkness surrounded him, night had fallen while he drifted in and out of an emotional, pain-filled world. His eyes searched his immediate surroundings looking for his friend. He was nowhere to be seen.
"Wade?" The fear the suddenly squeezed his heart could be heard in his voice but there was no one to hear it.
"Wade?"
He had left him. Wade said he wouldn't.
"Wade!"
No answer, just absolute silence.
"WADE!!" Ezra screamed into the night. "Wade." The last was spoken in a desperate whisper.
"I'm here Ezra."
Ezra whimpered in relief. "I thought you left me."
"Like everyone else?"
"Yes."
"Go back to sleep Ezra."
"You won't leave me again?"
"No Ezra. I'll be here."
This time his leg wasn't doing so well, he had woken up to find it twisted under his right leg, just as it had been after he'd fallen. That wasn't right though, he hadn't fallen, and he’d been thrown over a cliff, hadn't he. He wasn't so sure anymore. He looked down at his hands, they were tied together. The raw flesh was filled with dirt, his hands were slightly purple but he could still feel them. Who had tied them? The men who had robbed him of his possessions. He remembered now.
Ezra looked around to see if any part of the surrounding land was familiar to him. It wasn't. Maybe he was going in the wrong direction. What if he was walking away from Four Corners instead of towards it. He stopped, he needed to think. He can't be going the wrong way, all of his efforts would be wasted. The pain he was enduring would all be for nothing. He wouldn't be able to tell the others that he came back, that he didn't run away. They would continue thinking that he betrayed them.
"I don't know if I'm going the right way." Ezra turned around, his movements were becoming frantic. His face was contorted with confusion.
"Stop and think Ezra."
He wanted to take a deep breath to help calm his fear but he knew it would hurt. There was already too much pain. He didn't want more. He didn't think he could take it anymore. The thought of the pain continuing caused his fear to grow even more. He could feel his chest tighten with fear.
"I don't know where I am."
"Take a deep breath Ezra and try to calm down."
"I can't, there's too much pain. You should know that!"
"Sit down and rest for a while Ezra then try again."
Ezra didn't argue, he was tired and his body was retaliating by the use of pain. His body was torturing him. He didn't know why, he hadn't done anything wrong. The men had taken his father's watch. It had been given to him after his father had died. He was told it had belong to his father. It had been passed down from father to son and then to him. It had been Wade Standish's watch. The thought caused a tear to well up in his left eye. He blinked and the tear fell down his cheek. He was scared and in pain. He had to get back home, he had to get to his friends. He needed them, their help and Nathan's medical care. Without them he would die.
"Don't worry Ezra, you'll make it."
"I'm not sure anymore."
"Try again Ezra."
He slowly turned around making sure that he didn't put any more weight onto his injured leg than he had to. His forehead creased up as something began to look familiar to him. The mountains in the distance, he had seen them before, passed the sight often. He turned his head to the left looking for another landmark that he knew would be there. A group of trees sat at the base of a hill. There would be a trail that would take a rider passed the trees, it would then turn to the East where Four Corners lay six miles further on. He knew where he was now. The fear retreated and his confidence grew once again. He was now willing to push himself to get home. If he kept going, he should be home soon. Would they allow him to come back. He hoped with all his heart that they would.
He continued to walk with a limp until late in the afternoon, he had walked all day with little rest. He had surprised himself with his efforts. His only thought was Nathan Jackson, he needed his help and was willing to ask for it. He had ignored the pain in his body but could no longer do it. He would have to stop, he didn't want to but he couldn't go any further. The pain was becoming too much for him, his body was exhausted. He had to stop before he collapsed, if he did that he may not get up again.
He stopped and carefully laid down, he didn't look for any cover, and he lay in the open. He looked at Wade who nodded back at him. Words were not needed, they were now friends, and they understood each other. Ezra liked the man, he drew a comforting feeling from the man that no one else had been able to give him. Wade would say that he had never allowed anyone to give him that feeling before but that wasn't necessarily true. He had no memory of anyone wanting to make him feel wanted, cared about, even loved. His relationship with his mother always made him feel like a business associate instead of a son whom she loved. But now he had someone, he had Wade. He knew this man was his friend, the friendship that was offered to him was unconditional, and it was what he had wanted all his life. A smile crossed his handsome features as he drifted off into another world of dreams and nightmares.
________________________________________
He made it, he was finally home. Ezra stood on the edge of town, he didn't want to go any further, and he wasn't sure of what was awaiting him. Open arms or his marching orders. He expected the latter. He took hope in his courage and began to walk towards the clinic. Maybe if he faced Nathan on his own he'd be okay. The healer could take care of his wounds before Chris Larabee found out he was back. The town was quiet, the street fires were now cold embers. The sun would be coming up soon and the natural light would reveal the town’s buildings and wake the sleeping occupants that lived within them.
He was nearing the steps that led to the clinic when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned quickly but saw no one. He waited but the noise didn't repeat itself. He sighed and hung his head, he was hearing things now. He had to get to Nathan, he would help him. He climbed the stairs and made it to the top without any incidents. He used his elbow to knock on the door. It was a few minutes before he received an answer.
He looked at the dark features that stared back at him. "Nathan."
"Look who came back." Nathan growled at him. "We thought you run out on us again."
"No. I was . . . "
"Chris is going to kill you when he finds out your back."
"Why?" Ezra asked him. He was afraid, he didn't want to be but he had hoped that they would help him. He was obviously wrong. "I didn't run out on you guys, I was robbed . . . I . . . "
"Ezra Standish!"
Ezra winced at the tone of Larabee's voice. He turned around to face his leader. He felt the fist connect with his already injured face. He fell to the floor and a cry of pain escaped him. He felt someone's boot connect with his ribs.
"I told you I'd kill you if you ever run out on me again." Chris kicked him again.
"I didn't run out on you!" Ezra yelled as he curled himself into a tighter ball to protect himself.
He could hear six voices accusing him of running out on them. Boots continued to kick him. His own voice kept
screaming at them to stop. They didn't, they wouldn't. They were going to kill him. He screamed one last time.
________________________________________
Ezra jerked awake while the scream still sounded in his ears. He could feel his heart pounding. The fear still filled him but confusion stopped him from remembering the dream. He wanted to get home. He looked around at the surrounding darkness. If he got up now and started walking, he would get lost. He closed his eyes and tried to ease his fear, he knew Wade would be nearby. He concentrated on the man who was helping him.
"Go back to sleep Ezra."
Ezra did as he was told. He would do anything that Wade told him to do. He trusted the man with his life.
The rain began to fall lightly as the man tossed and turned in his world of nightmares. The moisture began to soften the dried dirt and blood and wash it away revealing the nasty wounds and bruises that now marred the once handsome visage. The man's countenance was contorted in emotional pain as his feverish mind played with his fears.
Ezra jerked awake at the feel of the cold rain hitting his face. His confusion caused him to try to sit up, he fell back to the ground as the pain tore through him. A tremor racked his body in protest to the cold. A chill had settled into his bones causing them to ache. He groaned at the thought of more pain.
"You okay Ezra?"
"I don't feel so good Wade."
"I'm sorry Ezra."
"Not your fault." he tried to smile but he couldn't. He just wanted his torment to end.
"You need to get out of the rain Ezra."
"I don't think I can move."
"Yes you can. You don't have a choice."
Ezra nodded. He waited a moment then began the painful struggle to get to his feet. He felt a slight wave of dizziness and expected to fall back to the ground. He didn't. So far, things were going his way, he hoped it lasted long enough for him to get home. He knew that if it weren’t Wade he would die where he was. His body would never be found. He finally stood erect and looked around at his surroundings. He found it difficult to see in the darkness. The sky was full of clouds that were still overflowing with soft droplets of rain. He tried wiping the dampness from his face but it was a futile effort because the rain continued to bath his face and body with water.
"Hurry Ezra."
"I can't hurry on this leg."
"Yes you can."
"But I don't know which way to go."
"Yes you do! Now stop making excuses and move!"
"You know, sometimes you sound just like Chris Larabee." Ezra growled at him as he began to make his way towards the protection that would keep him out of the rain.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant to be an insult." Ezra muttered.
________________________________________
His eyes opened but they saw nothing, he blinked repeatedly as he tried to clear his vision. The fog that drifted around his mind cut off all reality. He had no idea where he was or what was wrong with him. He had a feeling that he should be doing something, going somewhere but he couldn't remember. He gave up on trying to see, he settled his head back down on the soft ground and closed his eyes. He tried to remember where he was but couldn't. It was useless, he couldn't break through the thick fog that clouded his memory.
His features creased up as he realised he was alone and in pain. Where were his friends. Did they leave him. No, he remembered, he left them and didn't go back. He'd run out on them. But what was wrong with him. Why was there pain. He shifted his body to test it and clenched his teeth against the pain that answered his question. There was something seriously wrong and he didn't know what it was. His ears registered the sound of rain but he couldn't feel it on his face. He must be undercover. He knew he wasn't inside a building, the ground was damp and he was cold. Nothing covered his body to keep him warm.
He could smell blood and knew instantly that it was his own. The smell caused images to break through the fog. He could see the men who were beating him. Their faces belonged to his friends. Why? Because he had run out on them of course. They were angry at him, and showed him their anger by using their fists. Chris Larabee had told him once that he would kill him if he ran out on him again. That must have been what happened but he had escaped their physical attack because he was still alive. Now he was injured and alone out in the middle of nowhere. But he wasn't alone. There was someone there with him. He forced himself to concentrate. His grandfather was with him. Wade Standish. He allowed the comfort of his maternal grandfather to help him drift back into a deeper sleep.
________________________________________
The sun broke through the trees and shown down on the figure that was huddled against a large tree trunk. The form was shivering uncontrollably. A slight moan escaped his bleeding lips. The man didn't awaken until the sun was high above him in the cloudless sky. The clouds had moved on into the distance but there would be more to replace them and bring more rain to the already soaked earth.
He was blind again but this time it was due to the sun shining in his eyes. He turned his head away from the painful glare and looked into Wade's eyes. The man looked so much like his grandfather. Ezra had never forgotten his face, it had been etched into his mind's eye and yet he couldn't remember what his own father looked like. He knew he had gotten his green eyes and dimples from him, his grandfather had told him that. He couldn't understand why he could remember the face of a man he'd only spent two days with and yet couldn't remember the face of the man he had spent the first five years of his life with.
"Grandfather."
"No Ezra, I'm you. Don't you remember?"
"Me?" It took a few minutes but he did finally remember.
Wade claimed to be him, that he'd come from his mind to help him get home. His eyes took on a distant look. "What will happen to you when I get home?"
"I'll leave."
"Do you have too?"
"I don't know Ezra. It'll be up to you."
Ezra nodded. He didn't want his friend to leave him. He trusted the man with his life. If the men in Four Corners didn't accept him back then he would still need Wade. Where would he go if he couldn't stay with the six men. He had no idea. He no longer had a horse or the money to buy one. They would not give him one, he would have to leave on foot. Would they even give him a coat to keep off the closing winter's chill. He didn't know. He was beginning to think that he shouldn't try to go home. He could walk in another direction and hopefully meet up with someone who could take care of his wounds until he was strong enough to get to the nearest town where he could win enough money to get himself back into his life.
But he wanted his friends to do that. He wanted them to take care of him like no one else had. He wanted Nathan to take care of his injuries. He wanted Buck and JD to sit with him and talk to him. He wanted Josiah's assurance that everything would be okay, that he would take care of him. He wanted Vin's presence so he would know that he was safe and no more harm would come to him. And most of all, he wanted Chris' acceptance of being back home and his forgiveness for all of the mistakes he'd made since Chris had hired him. He wanted his friends to surround him. He was afraid that they wouldn't and he would be alone. Wade said that he would leave once he was better. He forced the thoughts from his mind. If he kept thinking that way, he would never get home.
He continued to walk even though his body was screaming at him to stop. His mind and heart refused to listen. He knew he was getting closer to home. His need urged him on. The fear he felt at being not accepted back into the group was even stronger. If anything stopped him now it would be that fear. Wade was walking by his side ready to encourage him if he faltered in his determination to get home. The rain was yet to return so Ezra was getting as much distance past him as his injured leg would allow. It wasn't much. His movements were slow, his body was weakening quickly. If he didn't get home soon he never would.
He didn't know how much time had passed, he had no recollection of the days that had gone by. For all he knew it could have been only two days or two weeks. No. Two weeks was too long, he would have died if it had been that long. It must have been only a matter of days. He would be home soon, if he didn't collapse and die first. He passed by another landmark that he was familiar with. He was getting closer and as he did his fear grew in intensity. He stopped, his heart was pounding in his chest, and the sweat was running down his face and back.
"I can't Wade. I can't go home." Ezra whispered.
"Why not?"
"They'll beat me, tell me to leave town." Ezra looked at his friend. "I don't know what I'll do without them. I finally found people who were trying to be my friend and I wouldn't accept it. I pushed them away, wouldn't let them get close and now that I'm willing to them I made a stupid mistake and I've lost them."
"It wasn't your mistake Ezra. Larabee sent you out there, no one else."
"I shouldn't have made him angry that night."
"You didn't Ezra. You did nothing wrong. You'll realise that when you get home."
"What if they won't let me come back?" Ezra needed reassurance to continue. He feared that the dreams he had would become a reality. He couldn't lose these men, not now.
"You have to go back Ezra, even if only to prove to them that you didn't run out on them."
"What if they don't believe me?"
"They'll believe what they see Ezra."
He looked down at himself. He was a mess. His body was covered in dirt and blood. He winced at the sight of his wrists. His eyes travelled towards his knee. It was still swollen, the knee was pressing against the material of his trousers. There was no blood so the injury must be internal. He then looked at his feet. They were also covered in dirt and blood but he felt no pain coming from his damaged limbs.
"Keep walking Ezra."
Ezra did as he was told. His mind started to fill with a thin film of mist. Nausea started to gather and roll in his stomach. His head had been hurting but now it began to ache with a passion. He didn't think he was going to make it.
"You will Ezra."
He felt a slight hope that Wade had confidence in him. He didn't want to let his friend down. He didn't want to lose Wade as well as the rest of the men who had been willing to be his friend but the fear continued and so did his pain, both emotionally and physically.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
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