The Magnificent Seven Fic - 'Finding Adam Larabee' - 2/3

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Title: Finding Adam Larabee
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Magnificent Seven
AU: Missing Persons
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Ezra Standish has been using his psychic abilities to find the missing, but he can't do it alone anymore. After seeking the help of the 'Missing Persons' unit, he may just end up finding Chris Larabee's missing son.
Main Characters: Ezra, the rest of the seven
Disclaimers: The guys are owned by CBS, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment Group, and The Mirisch Corp.
Beta: Not betaed
Notes: I snagged the idea of a Psychic Ezra from the movie '13 Ghosts' which I absolutely loved at the time.
Spoilers: None.
Word Count: 15,242




Part Two


'That comment just proved you're a fake.' Wilmington growled at him.

Standish could feel the painkillers kicking in. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. 'You found her this morning. Why did you give me a photo of a dead girl you found this morning?'

'You could have heard that on the radio,' Buck told him instead of answering him, 'Chris mentioned her name and you added that to what you heard on the radio. You better think about what you're going to say next, what we want to hear is something that wouldn't have been in the paper when she disappeared or on the radio after she was found.'


'Sharon Penal didn't leave home. Her parents kicked her out. They called her a slut, a whore. It wasn't her fault, she was date raped but her parents wouldn't believe her. They didn't want a fifteen-year-old daughter who was pregnant-'

'She was pregnant?' Sanchez hung his head in shame, not for the young girl but for her parents.

'She had nowhere to go. After a few days on the street, she met some other runaways who took her in but that only put her in more trouble. They introduced her to drugs, convinced her that it would take away the depression and fear she was feeling. Didn't tell her about the dangers of hard drugs though. It was an accident. She didn't intend to kill herself. She wanted that baby even though a rapist conceived it.'

Larabee moved forward and took a closer look at Standish. The man looked exhausted, like he was about to collapse in a heap and stay that way for a number of days. He needed rest and if his information panned out then he would get it.

'Vin, call the Penal's and find out their reaction to what Standish just told us. Use my office.'

'Sure.'

'Listen,' Standish ran his hand through his hair, 'I'm really tired, I just want to go home have a shower and sleep for a week. Can I do that now and we'll finish this tomorrow.'

'You can go home but two of my men will stay with you until we officially confirm this. After that we'll talk about what you originally came here for - my help.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sanchez was sitting in a chair with his legs stretched out. A thick blanket covered his legs and his jacket was pulled up around his ears. A cup of hot coffee was keeping his hands warm.

The hotel that Standish was staying in was cheap with no heating and uncomfortable furniture. There were only two rooms, the main room and a bathroom, both as small as a walk-in closet. Why a man who dressed so well and drove a Jag lived in a cheap hovel like this he didn't know but he did want to find out.

He'd been watching Standish move about in his sleep for almost two hours now and an occasional grimace or frown would cross his features with the occasional mumbling.

After retrieving Standish's car they had gotten him to the hotel where he had eaten, taken a shower and then gone straight to bed. He had fallen asleep within minutes of putting his head on the pillow. All of this without muttering a word to the two men who watched over him.

Sanchez glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door creak open and saw Wilmington enter the room.

'Standish was right, she was pregnant.' Wilmington's cell phone had rung five minutes earlier and he had taken the call outside in the hallway so as not to wake Standish.

'Then he's psychic,' said Sanchez.

'Or a lucky guess.'

'Don't think so.'

'Chris is going to put all of his hope into this guy to find his son. What if he doesn't?'

Sanchez looked back at the form in the bed. 'Then Chris will keep the faith and continue to look.'

'What do you think about this?' Wilmington nodded at the room. 'Drives a Jag and lives in a hole like this.'

'That's calling the kettle black.'

'There's nothing wrong with my place that a good house keeper can't cure.'

'That and a pest control service.'

'So what do you think?' Wilmington repeated.

'No idea, Buck, no idea.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standish woke within a panic, his body shivering, his breath coming out in small gasps. He looked across at the two men who slept on the only other furniture in the room; two very uncomfortable chairs. It brought back the memory of what had happened the day before. He threw off the heavy blankets and made his way to the bathroom. His teeth started to rattle so he clamped his mouth shut.

The bathroom contained only a toilet, basin and shower and left little room for anything else. He washed his face with cold water and did what he did every night; he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked more haggard than usual. Exhaustion had started to line his features and his normally bright green eyes were dull and still held the horror of what he had seen in his dreams.

Every night it was the same. He saw the faces of the lost that he didn't save men, women and children who he found dead when he had linked with them. He heard their voices calling out to him, sometimes screaming his name. It was getting worse. These men had to help him, if they didn't . . . he knew what would happen, it had happened yesterday. Delta Burtron was dead because his physical exhaustion had slowed him down. That couldn't happen again.

'You okay?'

Standish looked over his shoulder and saw Sanchez standing in the doorway. His large frame almost filling the gap.

'Just tired.' He let his head fall between his shoulders to hide his features from the older man. 'Too tired.'

'Go back to bed and get some sleep.'

'It's not that, well it is but it's more than that. I've been doing this a long time and I just can't do it on my own anymore.'

'You've got help now.'

Standish shook his head.

'Vin called, said you were right about Sharon Penal.'

'That's the problem.'

'What?'

'I'm always right. When I find them they're already dead, killed within hours of being taken. Don't get me wrong, I find people who have run away from home, but they did that of their own choosing, they don't really need my help . . . it's the people . . . the children that are taken against their will, I just want to be able to find them alive. I can't help all of them and it's starting to wear me down. I should have been able to help Delta, I should have stopped him, but I was too slow, too tired mentally and physically.' He finally lifted his head and stared into Sanchez's eyes, 'I need help to do this. I can't do it on my own anymore.'

'You don't have to.' Sanchez moved forward and gripped Standish's elbow with a strong hand and led him back to the bed. 'Get some sleep we'll sort this out in the morning.'

'I dream too much when I sleep. I see all their faces, I don't forget their faces.'

'Don't think about it now. Try and get some sleep.'

Standish nodded and rolled over onto his side and pulled the blankets up over his shoulder.

Sanchez watched him for a few minutes then returned to the empty chair. It didn't really surprise him when Standish woke from nightmares three more times that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearly midday when Standish woke of his own free will and not as a result from a nightmare. He felt better even though his sleep had been interrupted a number of times. Instead of getting up, he stayed where he was with his eyes closed and tried to enjoy the moment that didn't come often enough for him.

'You always sleep this late?'

The man had spoken with a Texan accent so it must have been Vin Tanner, the quiet one with the longer hair.

'If I had the choice, then yes.'

'Got some food for you here, bagels, ham, cheese, coffee.'

'In a minute.'

'Chris will be here in an hour.'

Standish opened his eyes and looked at the man; he then turned over and ignored him.

'You're gonna want to eat something so you can do that trick you do. For someone who spoke a lot yesterday you don't have a lot to say today.'

So much for a quiet moment thought Standish.

'I could say the same about you, Mr. Tanner. You seem to be talking a lot for someone who didn't yesterday.'

'You got me there and it's Vin, not Mr. Tanner.'

'I'm not very good with first names, Mr. Tanner.'

He didn't see the Texan shrug; instead, he opened his eyes wide when he realized what he had done that night. He had opened up to Sanchez, something that he rarely did. 'Oh crap.'

'Something wrong Ezra?'

He turned his face and slammed it into the pillow. What the hell had he done? What had he been thinking? More proof that he was losing control. Emotions were something he kept behind a calm façade, a wall built that he had built around himself when he was a child to keep people out. He was a man who lived life alone, without help from others. Working with these men was going to be difficult but as long as he kept them at arm’s length, he should be able to cope.

'Ezra?'

'Are we doing my trick here?' He didn't hide the disgust he felt about the term Tanner had used.

'Uh yeah . . . hey I didn't mean anything . . . I didn't know what word to use.'

Tanner had gotten up and walked around the bed and was now looking down at him.

'I call it helping people.' Standish got up, walked into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him. Twenty minutes later when he came out he found Sanchez, Wilmington and Larabee waiting for him.

'Good morning, gentlemen. You're early.'

'Standish.' Larabee nodded.

Wilmington also nodded but said nothing.

'How are you this morning, Ezra?' Sanchez stepped forward.

'Mr. Sanchez . . . about last night-'

'It's alright, Ezra, anytime.'

'No not anytime, it won't happen again, I'm sorry.'

'Ezra, if you need to talk I'm ready to listen, don't worry about being embarrassed about it.'

'I'm not embarrassed, Mr. Sanchez. Talking is something I don't do, to anyone.'

'Not even conversation?' Sanchez was frowning.

'That's different.'

'How?'

'Mr. Larabee,' Standish ended Sanchez's attempt to discuss what had happened,' 'I'll need at least twenty minutes before we do this.'

'Sure, we'll wait outside.'

'Thank you.' Standish watched as Larabee and Tanner left the room then glanced at Sanchez who hesitated a moment then followed his boss out of the room. He didn't bother looking at Wilmington assuming that he would also leave. He went the chair where he had left his coat, took out his medication, and swallowed three dry. Then before he knew it, he was slammed up against the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'He's a troubled man, Chris.' Sanchez told the man who was leaning against the wall.

'Aren't we all?' Larabee turned his head sideways and looked at the door at the end of the hallway.

'If you saw him last night . . . his eyes, the nightmares. He's tired and he's desperate.'

'I know the feeling.'

'Chris, I'm not trying to make his troubles seem worse than yours, I just want you know that he's at the end of his rope.'

Larabee pushed himself away from the wall and headed towards Standish's room. 'I'm not waiting any longer, Josiah. I need to know about my son.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck waited until Josiah, Vin and Chris left the room then moved with speed towards Standish. He spun him around and pushed him up against the wall.

'Chris thinks he believes in your powers.'

'It is not a power that I have; it is an obstacle to a normal life.' He pushed Wilmington away but the man stayed close

'We know Sarah is dead, but we don't know what happened to Adam, we don't know if he's alive or dead? If he's dead … you don't tell Chris.'

'You want me to lie to Mr. Larabee, tell him his son is alive if I find him to be dead.'

'That's what I want,' said Wilmington.

'Why?' Standish was frowning in confusion.

'That's none of your damn business. You just do as you're told! If you don't I will beat the shit out of you and when you're capable of walking again I will beat the shit out of you repeatedly.'

Standish nodded. He understood. The man was concerned about his friend.

'What about you?'

'What about me?'

'Do you want to know the truth?'

Wilmington wiped his face with his right hand and opened his mouth to speak-

Standish stopped him with his own words, 'Please, I'd rather not know.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Larabee and Sanchez returned to the room fifteen minutes later. Larabee removed a framed picture from his coat pocket. There were no words spoken as he handed the frame to Standish who refused to look at it. Instead, he turned to look at Wilmington.

'What are you waiting for?' Larabee growled at him. 'You said you would be ready.'

'Chris . . .' Sanchez warned him.

'I am ready.' He snatched the photo frame out of Larabee's hands.

Standish looked down at the photo to find a beautiful woman staring back at him. The smile spread across her features told of a happy life full of love, and excitement of what the future will hold for her and her family. Poor dear, Ezra thought to himself. He didn't linger on her face for long (Larabee already knew about his wife), and shifted his gaze to the boy who sat next to her, his small body leaning into hers. His smile showed a gap where he had lost a baby tooth. There was a striking resemblance to his father.

'Could you take the picture out please?'

Larabee took back the frame, did as he was told and handed the photo back.

Standish clenched his teeth and waited for the pain as his fingers reached for the boy. There was only darkness then a sudden bolt of light followed by excruciating pain. It was worse than what he normally felt. Agonizing screams of a woman whose flesh was being burnt from her body filled his mind and he let out a scream of his own as he shared her pain. A child screamed continuously for his mother. The boy was watching his own mother burn to death. A flash of a moving figure covered in flames caused Standish to fall to his knees then scramble backwards until he hit a solid object. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and blinked to clear his vision. Sarah Larabee's pain suddenly ceased as a gunshot echoed in his mind's eye and he watched as she dropped to the ground. The flames continued to burn and the smell of burning flesh caused his breath to catch in his throat cutting off another scream. His body convulsed and fell forward onto his side. He was going to vomit, just a few more seconds was all he needed. Another image of the boy, this time his face was older and was filled with madness, his blue eyes with nightmares, the toothless gap replaced by a crooked tooth. Adam Larabee was still alive, he could feel it, he knew it without a doubt but what he didn't know was the boy's location. He began to choke on his own vomit and he knew that he had to let go.

The picture dropped from his fingers to the floor then without a word he pushed himself to his feet rushed to the bathroom and threw up into the open toilet. When he was finished, he fell back onto the light blue tiled floor and waited for his body to stop trembling. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to go through the images again to see if he'd missed anything. He noticed a few things but knew they wouldn't help; he was going to have to try again later.

'You finished in there, Standish!'

He was surprised it was Wilmington's voice he heard. He had expected Sanchez to follow him. Standish stood up and turned the cold-water tap on and washed the sweat from his face then rinsed out his mouth. After drying his face off with a towel, he looked at himself in the mirror and saw that Wilmington was now standing in the doorway.

'Close the door, Mr. Wilmington.'

Wilmington did as he was told then leaned back against the door and waited.

'How much does Chris Larabee know about his wife's death?'

'He knows . . . we know everything. Why?'

'I need to know that he knows everything before I tell him what I saw and I mean everything Mr. Wilmington, everything!'

'What are you talking about, Standish?' Buck stepped forward and took on a threatening stance.

'Then you don't know either.' Standish hung his head. 'This is the part I hate most.'

'Chris is waiting.'

'How does Mr. Lara-- Chris handle bad news?'

'I told you not to tell him that Adam is dead!'

'I'm not talking about that,' Standish stood up and walked to the door, 'I want to know how he'll react if I tell him something he didn't know about his wife's death.'

'He'll drink.'

'Then we better make sure he doesn't because he has a son to find.' And with that said, he returned to the main room where Larabee was waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Larabee didn't want to follow Standish into the bathroom, not after what he just saw. The scream he heard, the pain that was written all over his face, the tears; did all of what he had just seen mean that Adam was dead. God, he didn't want to know. Why did this happen? He thought it would have been better to know but now he wasn't so sure. He didn't stop Buck when his friend went after Standish but he did frown when he heard the door close. He picked up the photo and carefully put it back in the frame. A few minutes later, both men came back. The expression on Standish's face scared the hell of him.

'I don't want to know.'

'Your son isn't dead.'

'I said I-' did he just hear what he had wanted to hear for the last two years. 'Adam's alive?'

'Yes.'

'Where is he?'

'Sit down, Mr. Larabee . . . we need to talk.'

He didn't sit down, he fell down into a chair. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

Standish wanted to get this over with quickly but he needed to tell the man everything so he would believe him, he also needed Wilmington to believe him. If they didn't then he was going to be working alone again and that was the last thing he wanted; he couldn't do it on his own any more.

'Mr. Wilmington wanted me to lie to you, to tell you that your son was alive even if he wasn't.'

'You son-of-a-bitch!' Wilmington yelled at him.

'So you're telling me he is dead.'

'No . . . it's just that . . . I'm going to have to tell you everything and I don't know if you know everything. Things may have been kept from you to protect you-'

'I know everything.'

Standish started pacing the room because he didn't want to look at the four men who were staring at him. Tanner had earlier moved into a corner and hadn't moved or said a thing since; Ezra had almost forgotten the man was still there. 'I'm going to tell you what happened to your wife-'

'You don't need to do that!' Wilmington growled.

'Buck,' Sanchez grabbed Wilmington's shoulder and pulled him back towards a chair then pushed him down into it,' let the man talk.'

'I need to tell him so he'll believe what I have to say to him about his son.'

'Just get on with it, Standish!' This time Chris was growling at him.

'Your wife was set alight while she was still alive,' he waited for a reaction but didn't get one, they did know, 'after a minute or so someone shot her. When she was dead they dragged her body back into the house and set it on fire.'

'To know that you either had to be there or you're genuine,' said Wilmington.

'I wasn't there.'

'Where's Adam?' Chris interrupted them, now wasn't the time for small talk.

'I don't know.' Before Standish could react, Larabee had him up against the wall with his forearm against his throat. The pressure was strong enough to make breathing difficult.

'I thought you said you could find people!' Larabee yelled into his face.

'Mr. Sanchez, please, if you don't mind.' Standish managed to choke out.

'Chris, let him finish before you kill him.'

Larabee pulled then pushed Standish against the wall and waited.

'I saw your son, Mr. Larabee, he's alive, I don't know where he is but I need to explain to you why I don't know where he is. Prepare yourself Mr. Larabee because you're not going to like this.'

'Sounds like something I've heard before.' Chris warned him.

'This isn't something you've heard before.' Standish moved away from him and sat down in the chair. 'Adam saw everything; they made him watch his mother die-'

'God damn it!' It was Wilmington's voice he heard but he didn't know whose fist hit the wall.

'He was forced to watch everything. Mr. Larabee it's the only thing that he seems to remember, his mind has become dark with nightmares and it's all I can see right now. You need to find him but I don't know where he is. I'm going to have to try again later with a picture of only Adam, do you have one that I can use?' he didn't receive an answer. 'Mr. Larabee?'

'He saw it happen?'

'I'm sorry, but I need you to believe in me, otherwise I would have kept that information to myself.' Standish saw Larabee slowly nod.

Wilmington growled at him, 'Next time keep it to yourself. That's something no father wants to know.'

'I'll go and get another photo for you.'

'Mr. Larabee,' he waited for Larabee to turn back to him. 'Look at me please.' When he did Standish continued, 'your son is alive and what he needs right now is for his father to be in complete control of his senses . . . what I'm trying to say is . . . you need to stay away from the bottle.'

'You always speak your mind, Standish', said Wilmington.

Standish actually smiled for the first time since they'd met him, 'My mouth gets me into a lot of trouble.'

'As long as my son is alive, Standish, I won't be going back to my old ways. I need to do this for me, for Sarah but most importantly for my son,' Larabee now had a look of determination of his face, one that Wilmington hadn't seen for nearly two years, 'I'll go and get you another photo.'

'The last one that you took of him, it would help me more,' said Standish.

'I'll come with you,' Wilmington said. He nodded at Sanchez then followed Larabee out of the small hotel room.

Sanchez looked at Standish after the two men left. 'How much of that was true?'

'All of it I'm afraid.' Standish glanced from Sanchez to Tanner and was surprised to find that it was Tanner who had hit the wall. He had put his hand right through it.

Sanchez shook his head then spoke. 'At the time the Crime Scene investigators thought that it may have been a possibility that Adam had witnessed what happened to his mother. There were small boot prints where the murder had taken place. They said the prints belonged to a boy, no doubt Adam. We made them all swear that they kept it out of their reports and that no one told him.'

Standish just nodded in return.

'Are you sure you want to do this again so soon. I mean that seemed to take a lot out of you.'

'Yes, I'm sure.'

'Do you need anything while we're waiting?'

'Some more coffee would help if you're offering.'

'Sure. I'll go get us some coffee.'

When Sanchez left, Standish lay down on the bed and was asleep within minutes. Sanchez returned fifteen minutes later to find Standish sound asleep and covered with a thick blanket. Tanner was sitting on the bed reading a magazine.

'He okay?' asked Sanchez.

'Just sleeping.'

'You didn't have much to say about what happened.'

Tanner didn't look up but said, 'I'll have plenty to say when we find the bastards responsible.'

Sanchez could only nod.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standish woke to find six men watching him. He grimaced and turned away from them. Why were they all here? He didn't need an audience when he did his "thing".

'I'm not a freak show so you can go home and stare at a wall.'

'We're not here to stare, Ezra,' said Sanchez, 'we're here to support you. I know that you do this alone - did this alone but not anymore. You go through a lot of pain doing this; I don't know how you coped with it for so long.'

'I had to.' Ezra explained. 'So why are all of you here?'

'If you can give us a location we'll be good to go within minutes.' Explained Tanner, 'JD brought our gear and-'

'And you shouldn't be doing this again already,' said Nathan.

Larabee lost his patience. 'And we know why I'm here so can we please do this now.'

Sanchez almost growled at him, 'You can't wait a few minutes.'

'I've waited long enough, Josiah!'

Standish sat up and glared at the blanket covering him. He knew he hadn't had it when he lay down. Damn it, Sanchez must have done it. He'd gone to Larabee for help not to get another mother. He sure as hell didn't need two. He didn't really need the one he already had. His stare moved to Sanchez, a stare that told the older man to stop coddling him. Sanchez only stared back at him. He stood up and threw the blanket at Sanchez who caught it with his right hand. He frowned when Sanchez threw the blanket at Tanner.

Tanner blushed then immediately dropped the blanket.

'Give me the photo.'

'Do what Josiah says,' said Jackson, 'give yourself ten minutes, and take your pills first.'

'Mr. Larabee is in a hurry and he's right. He's waited long enough. The man needs to know where his son is.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Larabee handed over his most recent photo of his son and watched as Standish "linked" with him. He wanted to turn away, didn't want to see the pain the man went through. But he couldn't. Some part of him needed to see it, needed to know that this was really happening, that at any moment he would know what happened to his son, his only child.

It was the same as before. Standish bent over, his hands reaching for his forehead then he collapsed to the ground. Teeth were clenched and fists were closed tightly and the body convulsed. It was over in a matter of minutes. Standish was now laying still, the photo on the floor beside his right hand. Larabee reached down and picked it up.

He wanted Standish to get up and tell him what he saw but he knew the man needed time to recover. He watched as Jackson and Sanchez took care of him and couldn't help but smile when Standish kept trying to push them away. The man was stubborn but he didn't know how stubborn Jackson and Sanchez were. If one of the group were injured the two men would act as mother hens. It was an embarrassment to all but the two men.

'He knows them, Adam knows them, and you know them.'

His words stopped Sanchez and Jackson in their tracks and they stepped back.

'What?' Larabee was shocked to the core of his being. Someone he knew had killed his wife and taken his son.

'Her . . .' said Standish, 'her . . . you knew her.''

'Knew? Her? Do you mean she's dead? How do we find him if the person who took him is dead?' It was Wilmington who asked.

Standish smiled at him. 'Suddenly you're a believer?'

'Cut the shit and just tell us.' Wilmington's eyes held a glimmer of hope that no one had seen before.

'Gains . . . Ella Gains' Standish tried to get up but fell back to the floor. He waited for someone to help him up but no one did. Five men were staring at Larabee.

'I used to date her in College, . . . she has my son . . .?'

'But you said Adam knows her,' said Sanchez.

'He met her once.' Larabee explained. 'Shit, JD . . . '

Dunne was already on his way out of the small hotel room. 'I'm on it!'

'We'll meet you at the office.' Wilmington yelled at Dunne's retreating back.

'Anything else?' Larabee asked as he sat down. His legs couldn't hold him up anymore. He was going to find his son.

'He had hope in his eyes, even with all the nightmares and madness he still believes that you're going to find him. And you are.'

'Then let's do it.' Larabee stood up and quickly wiped his eyes. He grabbed one of Standish's arms and pulled him to his feet.






Part One | Part Two | Part Three


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