Please Note: This story is set in an alternative ATF universe. I've written a different reason for Ezra Standish joining Team Seven and I've given him a sort of different history. Every thing else is still more or less the same.

Ezra Standish opened the door with trepidation. He had known for the last two days that this moment was coming. He had seen the signs; the lack of success on his part and the impatience of his employer. Four weeks had been a long time and in a way he agreed that this meeting was needed, but it wasn't going to go his way. He going to get blamed as always, it happened every time, and why not, if it wasn't being done then it was his fault. He'd been hired to do a job and he wasn't doing it, but he wasn't going to take the full blame this time, his boss was interfering too much.

Chris Larabee was a closed book, he talked about nothing that bothered him. This had made the undercover agent's job a lot harder than it should have been. The rumours of his own past also didn't help. Chris Larabee didn't trust him and neither did the rest of the team. Why would Larabee tell his secrets to a man he didn't trust, or even like for that matter.

"Sit down Agent Standish." Judge Travis ordered him without looking up from his paperwork.

"I'd rather stand Sir and get this over and done with." Ezra replied.

"You know why you're here then?"

"Yes, you want to tell me how to do my job. . . again."

The Judge became tense at the sound of sarcasm that came from the Southerner. His gaze slowly lifted to take in the handsome man's face. Standish was too smug for his own good.

"If you were doing your job, I wouldn't need to have this conversation with you!" Travis retorted.

“You haven't been allowing me to do my job!"

"Lose the smart mouth Standish, I've had enough of your shit to last me a life time!" Travis growled at the man that was still standing. "Team Eight are on a surveillance job, I want you and Larabee to take one of the shifts. I'm sure during a twelve hour period, you'll be able to convince him to talk about it." And maybe Chris can get you to talk.

"No, it won't work."

"You don't have a choice in the matter!"

"Obviously." Ezra smiled.

"You've been on this case for four weeks now and you've found out absolutely nothing."

"Have you ever tried getting him to talk about it? About anything?" Ezra shot back. He knew he was making excuses. The blame should be shared between himself, the Judge and Chris. He didn't want to do the job, the Judge was telling him how to do his job and Chris, well Chris was just being himself.

"Of course I . . . "

Ezra interrupted him. "Then you should know how hard it is. It's going to take time."

"You haven't got time. You're supposed to be the best at what you do Standish. The best would have been able to get the information needed by now, information that I want!" Damnation, why was this man able to piss him off so easily.

"Then perhaps you should get somebody else to do this." Ezra quietly told him.

"It's too late for that. But let me warn you, if I could I would. Agents have told me what you're capable of and in the four weeks you've been here, I haven't seen it!"

"That's because you keep telling me how to do my damn job. If you had left me to it from day one, it would have been done by now."

"What are you trying to say Standish?" the Judge rose from his chair and walked around his desk so he could stand face to face with the Southern know-it-all.

"What I'm saying ‘Judge' is that you don't want to find out the truth. You're afraid that the truth isn't what you want to hear. You want it swept under the rug so no one else will ever know what really happened." Better late than never, he should have said it two weeks ago.

"If there was ever a good time for you to shut up Standish, now would be it."

"I don't agree with what you're making me do."

"Like I said Agent Standish, you don't have a choice."

"And if I won't do it."

"Then you're back on the street where I found you." Travis threatened him.

"What are you going to do when he finds out this was your idea, that is, after he kills me."

"He won't kill you!"

"But isn't that what they're investigating him for. Killing an Agent." Ezra smiled at the flicker of emotion that crossed the Judge's features.

"Get out and do your job." Travis turned his back on the agent, a few seconds later he listened as the door was slammed shut.

Angry enough to hit someone, very hard, wasn't enough to describe the anger Ezra Standish was feeling right now. All his life, people questioned him. Relatives questioned his life, they had wanted to know why he even existed; a bastard child that didn't deserve to live. They wanted to know why he was so much like his mother; a liar, a cheat and a man that could con the pope out of the church's money. He had stupidly thought that it would all change when he joined the police academy, then the FBI. It did for a while but other agents didn't like the fact that he was a loner. How could he change the habit of a lifetime. Friends was an unfamiliar word, he'd never had any. His mother hadn't allowed it. Friends were people who would use you to get what they wanted, they sucked you dry then threw you away. It wasn't worth the emotional torment to have a friend. The fact that he often had to pretend to make friends while undercover only proved that what his mother always told him was right.

The FBI in Atlanta had wanted to get rid of him, they didn't like him, didn't like the way he worked. A setup up had been attempted, someone wanted it to look like he was on the take. The setup had failed but the rumours flew. They all believed that he was on the take, no one believed him when he said he wasn't. What the setup failed to do, the rumours completed with a finality that told him his career in the FBI was over.

Now he was here, it was the third time he had to do this. Why didn't they just transfer him to Internal Affairs and be done with it? Because they didn't want him either, no department did. He was being used, he knew it. They would put up with him while they needed the job done, once it was over he was quickly moved to another organisation in another town. He was good enough to do the job they wanted done, but not good enough to stay.

The elevator stopped but the door wouldn't open quick enough for him, his hand slammed against the ‘open door' button. A grimace of pain flickered in his eyes. The door opened a few seconds later. Ezra stepped out then froze in his spot. Chris Larabee was standing in front of him, the arms were crossed over the chest. Anger shown in his eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Ezra opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted before he even spoke.

"The meeting was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago!"

"Judge Travis requested my appearance in his office." Ezra moved forward and brushed against Larabee as he walked passed him.

"What did he want?" Chris frowned at Ezra's back.

"Thinks I'm not doing my job well enough." Ezra stopped and waited for Larabee to agree.

"Hell Ezra, he won't even let you do your job. How would he know if you're doing it well enough."

Ezra looked over his shoulder in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"He won't let you go undercover, don't know why, your record proves that you're the best at what you do."

Ezra suddenly felt ill. This man was praising him. "What . . . ?"

"You want me to talk to him?"

Yep, ill would best describe the way he was now feeling, the anger had quickly subsided. "Talk to him?"

"Yeah, tell him to let you prove yourself, that way he'll get off your back."

"No . . . no . . . that's okay . . . no . . . thanks anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, lets get this meeting over and done with."

Ezra followed Chris Larabee into the conference room. The anger that filled it hit him with enough force to push every last bit of breath from his lungs. The eyes that were full of anger glared at him demanding an explanation.

"It's okay fella's, wasn't Ezra's fault that he was late." Chris explained when he sat down.

"Why not, it's usually his fault that he's late." Buck Wilmington took his eyes off Standish and looked at his long time friend and boss.

"Travis wanted him."

"Oh," Buck nodded, "What did you do this time Standish?"

"Slept with Mr Dunne there, the Judge doesn't like office relationships."

"You did not!" JD Dunne protested. "I didn't Buck, honest, I'm not like that, you know that."

"He's just being an asshole JD." Buck slapped his flat mate on the back of the head.

"Enough Buck!" Chris warned him. "Leave Ezra alone."

Ezra's head turned quickly to look at Chris. Now the man was standing up for him. What the hell was going on? Was he just being nice because they were going to be stuck in a room for twelve hours. Probably, there would be no other reason for him to act as though he actually liked him. No one liked Ezra Standish, not even Ezra Standish himself.

Chris noticed that Ezra was staring at him, was that shock that had surfaced on the undercover agent's face. It was his first sighting of an emotion that he had caught on the handsome features. Ezra Standish had worn a poker face from the first day they had met him. There had never been any sort of emotion shown, no anger, no joy, no sadness, nothing. Ezra had been cold and distant. It was only after a week that he'd begun to talk. But he was very selective about who he spoke to. Only Chris and Vin seemed to be able to get a conversation going with the Southerner.

"You standing up for him?" Buck asked.

"Someone has to." Chris returned to staring at Buck.

"Ezra didn't do anything wrong Buck." Vin Tanner agreed with his boss.

"Don't know why you're having a go at him for something that's not his fault."

"You too?"

Vin nodded.

Ezra slowly turned his head, he was afraid that if he moved it too quickly, he would wake up from this dream. A dream where men he worked with, stood by him and protected him against those who wanted to destroy him. This was something that had never happened before. He leaned to his left so that he could speak to Josiah Sanchez without the others hearing him.

"Mr Sanchez, could you please pinch me."

"Ezra, how many times have I asked you to call me Josiah."

Ezra lifted his green eyes and looked into Josiah's blue grey eyes.

"Could you please pinch me."

"Why?"

"I want to make sure that this isn't a dream."

"Why would you think that this is a dream?"

"Never mind ‘Mr' Sanchez."

"Ezra?" Josiah nudged the smaller man that now seemed to be ignoring him.

"I said never mind!"

"Can we get back to the meeting now please." Chris slammed his folder against the desk so he could get everyone's attention. Once he had it he began to speak. "Team Eight are on surveillance and apparently they want us to do a shift . . . "

"Noooooo . . . " Five voices groaned at once.

"Don't worry guys, it's just one shift and it seems that they asked for Ezra and myself."

"Chris," Nathan Jackson shot an apologising expression towards Ezra then looked seriously at Chris. "I don't think you two would last an hour alone in a confined area."

"He's right Chris." Vin leaned forward in his chair. "I think you two would kill each other before your shift is over."

Ezra chuckled at the comment that Vin made. He waved his hand in the air as a way of an apology. "Sorry gentlemen, continue."

"What's so funny Ez?" JD wanted in on the joke, he loved to tell jokes but for some reason no one ever laughed at them.

"Mr Dunne, my name is Ezra not Ez and what I find so funny is none of your business."

Chris dropped his head towards he chest. Why did this man go out of his way to make people dislike him so much. Why would anyone want to do that. A man who didn't want to make friends would do that.

"Guys." Chris sighed as he lifted his head to look around the table.

"Can we please drop the dramatics, this isn't the time or place for it."

When he got everyone's attention he continued. "We take our shift in two days, 6am to 6pm . . . "

"Whoa Ezra, looks like you're going to have to get up early." Buck slapped the table with his hand and broke into a bout of laughter.

"Go fuck a whore Mr Wilmington." Ezra growled at him.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Buck stood up and pushed his chair away from the table. It was only the lack of a retort from the Southerner that stopped him from jumping over the table and beating the crap out of him.

Ezra looked down at his hands. Son of a bitch and a bastard Buck. You have to get it right.

"Vin, you'll be in charge during that time."

"We're not having any part of it?" Josiah asked.

"No, they say they have enough backup, don't need anyone else."

"Okay, but you know where we are if you need us." Josiah nodded.

"Yeah. That's it guys. You can go back and do what you consider to be work." Chris stood up and waited for the others to leave. "You okay Ezra?"

"Fine Mr Larabee." Ezra answered without looking away from his hands.

"Good, we've got a meeting with Team Eight in ten minutes."

"Is that something that I have to go to?"

"Yes it is, so get your skinny ass moving."

"It's not skinny." Ezra protested.

"I don't care what it is, get it moving, I don't have all day."

"For your information, most women appreciate my ass." Ezra told him as he stood up. He hated pretending like this, he hated being forced to be part of a friendship that wasn't real. If he allowed it to be real, he would be the one that was going to suffer at the end of the day. If he stayed cold and distant emotionally, then he might just survive losing something that he wanted to be real.

"The rest of you too, I'm sure." Chris laughed.

"If the shoe fits Mr Larabee."

"Will you stop calling me that!"

"Calling you what?" He had to call him that, why call a person who was never going to be a friend by their first name.

"Mr Larabee, I hate that."

"Really Mr Larabee."

"I swear Ezra, if you keep calling me that, I'm gonna shoot you." Chris grabbed Ezra by the shoulder and pushed him forward.

"As you wish Mr Larabee." If only you would put an end to this miserable, waste of a life.

"Shut up Ezra."

"Yes Sir." Ezra mumbled as Chris continued to force him to move forward. He wanted to break away from the hand that rested on his shoulder. Physical touch was something that caused him to cringe. While he was growing into a young man the only touch that he understood was the connection of a closed fist against his body. As a child he had taken many beatings, some worse than others. It had become a way of life for him, that was until he was big enough and strong enough to fight back and win.

Chris Larabee looked around the table at the six men that made up Team Eight, knowing that there wasn't a man among them that actually liked Ezra Standish. They didn't even bother to hide their dislike of the man. Chris knew that there were times that Ezra could be a very unlikable person, and that Ezra seemed to go out of his way to stop people from liking him. It was something that Chris was yet to understand. He'd often searched the undercover agent's file looking for something that would give him an explanation but the file only spoke of his service record. The commendations and brilliant undercover work. It also commented on the fact that he wasn't a team player and hated authority. The man preferred to think on his own and make his own decisions. It was the only way he liked to work. Maybe that was why Travis hadn't allowed him to go undercover. Then why recruit the man in the first place.

"Is there any particular reason why Standish has to be on this?" Martin asked Chris while he stared at Ezra.

"Travis wants him in on it." Chris answered.

"Why?"

"Because that's what he wants and I've learnt not to question him." Chris still wanted to know why Ezra had been chosen, he'd even had a heated argument with the Judge. Stake outs wasn't Ezra field of expertise, his specialty was undercover work.

"So we don't have a choice." Martin sounded the disgust he felt at having to work with Standish.

"No, you don't have a choice." Ezra smiled at the man.

"What's the situation?" Chris changed the subject.

"Chance Dormett," Martin threw the file across the table to Chris Larabee," we've gotten a tip that he's going to show up. We've been after this guy for over a year and I don't want this messed up." his eyes turned to Ezra then looked away. "The address is in the file, also everything else you need to know."

"What if he shows up?" Ezra leaned back in his chair and placed his crossed ankles on the table.

"Then you call in and let me know." Martin growled.

"And if he leaves before you get there?" Ezra continued.

"Ezra . . . " Chris warned him.

"You follow him. Simple as that." Martin smiled at a fellow team member. "Don't you know the proper procedure in a case like this."

"And if he sees us and attempts to escape."

"You stop him!" he was beginning to lose his patience.

"How?"

"Ezra." Chris nudged with an elbow.

"Just having some fun with the asshole."

"Ezra, I know he's an idiot but we have to work with him."

"Idiot? The guy has two brains; one's lost and the other one is out looking for it." Ezra argued with his boss.

"Tell me about it," Chris leaned closer to Ezra, "you know, it takes him an hour and a half to watch Sixty Minutes."

"Really?" Ezra turned his head, his instincts almost caused him to flinch away from Chris, he hadn't realised the man was so close to him.

"You finished." Martin stood up.

"Not really," Ezra told him, "I still have plenty to say but I can see you need to be somewhere else."

"You know Standish, it doesn't surprise me at all that the FBI got rid of you. It's going to be the same here. Travis and Larabee will only tolerate you for so long then they'll throw you out on your ass just like the FBI did. You're not trustworthy and you're a risk to other team members. I heard about what happened to your partner, and if it happens here, we won't let you get away with it."

I'll be out of here sooner than you think. Ezra gave the man a two finger salute and watched him leave the room. The rest of the team followed him.

"What was he talking about Ezra?" Chris leaned forward in an attempt to see Ezra's face.

"Nothing that is of your concern Mr Larabee." Ezra practically pushed the chair against the wall when he stood up. He stormed out of the room before Chris had the chance to say anything else.

Ezra tossed and turned as he struggled to fall asleep. He sat up and adjusted his eyesight so he could see the digital numbers on his alarm clock; 2:06 am. He groaned in frustration and slumped back down on the pillows. Shadows danced across the ceiling to the beat of an unheard rhythm. Sleep wasn't going to come for him now, it was too far into the night. The only thing left to do, was to get up. There were reports he could work on, maybe even go into the office and do some filing. Wouldn't Larabee and the others be surprised when they walked in at seven thirty in the morning to find him there already; in the office and working. They would think something was wrong and then start asking questions.

Chris Larabee suddenly jumped into his thoughts and took control. The man had stood up for him yesterday, he'd even gone against the Judge. There was a warning at the meeting with Team Eight but he hadn't stopped him, he'd actually joined in. What was Larabee thinking. Ezra knew that if he continued to think about it, hope would be ignited and the cold fire in his heart would begin to burn in the hope that a friendship was being offered to him. His brain immediately spoke up and told him that he would only be hurt, that Larabee was only doing it because it would make it easier for Larabee to spend twelve hours in a room with him. There was no attempt at a friendship, just a con to help him get through a difficult operation.

Ezra threw the blanket that covered him off the bed. The night's chill suddenly hit him causing goose bumps to form all over his body. Maybe a couple of drinks would help him to relax. The idea of getting completely pissed brought a smile to his face. It hadn't happened since he came to Denver and now was a good a time as any to over indulge in the bottle of scotch he had hidden away for such a time. There wasn't any difference from losing his job now than after the twelve hour stake out. He rather it was now, he no longer wanted to lie to Chris Larabee. Ezra Standish didn't respect a lot of people but there was something about Chris that demanded respect. Respect that was earned and well deserved.

That's what he was going to do. Get drunk, go into work late, very late, tell Larabee to go Fuck himself and get fired. Life could be so simple at times. It was going to be the best for everyone, especially for Ezra Standish. No more lying and no more pretending, he was getting tired of living a life that was full of lies. He could go somewhere, start fresh, begin a new life where there were no rumours that would ruin any chance he had of having a decent life.

Ezra bolted into a sitting position. There was a noise, he knew it was a noise, it couldn't be music, there was too much screaming. Alarm, it had to be his alarm. He turned towards it, 7:00 am. Aw shit! It was too early, way to early. His arm reached out as he rolled towards it and he had to grab onto the small set of drawers to stop himself from falling off the bed. Whoa, a little to much to drink there Standish, I know you wanted to get drunk but I think you went a little too far. What was he doing? It took a moment for him to remember, he was trying to turn the alarm off. He fumbled for the button and after six frustrating seconds he picked it up and threw it against the wall. The sound stopped as suddenly as it started.

He rolled onto his right sighed and pushed his face further into the pillow. The feel of the thick, but soft pillow felt good against his skin. Something else began to register. There was a slight headache just above the back of his neck. A couple of hours of sleep will get rid of that.

"AHHH!" Ezra yelled when the alarm went off a second time.

Suddenly his headache began to worsen, it seemed to pound with the beat of the music that was now playing on the alarm clock. What was it with these things, they just didn't want to die. Well this one was going to die, it wasn't going to live another day. He jumped out of bed and grabbed the gun that was still in it's holster, he hadn't bothered to take it out the night before. He turned slowly, bringing the gun up towards his face. The alarm clock was sitting in the corner of the room near the bedroom door. It seemed to be mocking him. He aimed, then fired two shots. The bullets struck the clock dead centre, sending splinters of plastic in all directions.

"Ah shit . . . "

The sound of the gun had brought his headache to the forefront of his mind. He had a hangover. Why didn't he think of these things before he got drunk. He hated the after effects of drinking too much. He groaned when his stomach tipped, then rolled back. This was another thing he hated about it; throwing up. His legs carried him as quickly as they could towards the bathroom. Was he going to make it, he didn't think so. His stomach emptied itself before he reached the toilet. Quick reflexes had him throwing himself against the bath, he managed to lose most of it into the bathtub but some of it had hit the floor first. When he was done he moved to the toilet bowl while he had the chance, his stomach wasn't finished, he knew that, it was only a matter of how long it was going to take.

Ezra had just finished what he hoped was his last bout of vomiting when he heard a pounding on the room's door. A strong voice announced itself as being a member of the Denver PD.

Great! Just fucking great, this was all he needed. At least it would end his career for good, he wasn't going to have to do anything else to get fired. His current mood refused to answer the door, if they wanted to enter the premises, then they could do it on their own abilities. He sat down on the cold tile floor and listened as the police officer forced the door open.

"POLICE! Come out with your hands up."

What did they think this was, a dope house, that he was sitting in the bathroom with half a dozen guns and enough ammunition to kill twenty police officers. He shook his head in disbelief and regretted the sudden movement. He was going to throw up again, in front of a police officer, while he was being arrested. Great, fucking great!

Ezra saw the dark uniforms out of the corner of his eye as the two policemen moved into the bathroom. He ignored them and covered his head with his hands. They would be able to see that he wasn't armed, that way he could continue throwing up.

The two officers waited until the man was finished, they didn't want vomit on their uniforms. It took a few minutes but the man had finally stopped and was now cleaning his face and mouth with cold water.

"We got a report that shots were fired in this room."

Ezra didn't answer them, why should he, unless they arrested him he didn't have to say a word. A crime hadn't been committed, there was no victim. They could go to hell for all he cared.

"You gonna answer me, or do we have to take you down town?"

"Am I under arrest?" Ezra turned around and raised an eyebrow at the black police officer.

"Not yet . . . "

"Then fuck off and leave me alone."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." Ezra pushed passed them and walked into the small bedroom and sat down on the bed. He wanted to lie down but before he could, his arms were gripped firmly and he was pulled to his feet. The next thing he knew, he was being slammed face first against the wall.

"We're going to search you and the room." the officer told him.

"Unless you can prove to me that a crime was committed here, you have no right." Ezra mumbled.

The black officer pushed Ezra's face harder against the wall until he heard a grunt of pain. "We think there was a crime committed, that's enough according to the law."

Ezra knew the man was right. "Is police brutality law?"

The undercover agent moaned in pain when a fist hit his left kidney, it was meant to cause pain. "You've go a smart mouth boy."

"It comes from expensive schools . . . " Ezra started.

"A rich boy too huh."

His head was pulled back then brought forward. The side of Ezra's head hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent in the plaster board. This wasn't a good start to a bad day.

"You need to be taught a lesson."

"From an overweight asshole like you? You must be joking."

Another blow landed against his kidney. More blows rained down on his body, these men knew where to hit a person that would hurt the most. They struck his chest stomach and kidneys. When Ezra fell to the floor one of the officers kicked him in the side, another kick and then it was over.

"You, pretty boy," the officer that had kicked him, leaned down and gripped Ezra's chin, "are under arrest."

"For what?" Ezra groaned as he tried to curl himself up into a ball.

"Resisting arrest, and firing an illegal fire arm." he smiled.

"I don't see any bruises on you." Ezra spat the bile that had risen into his mouth into the man's face. It earned him another kick to the ribs.

Chris Larabee, a man that was ready to tear the face off any man or animal that got in his way, stormed into the police station. He walked straight to the front desk. There was no need to identify himself, he was well known in the Denver PD. A friend in the department had called him to let him know that this undercover agent had been arrested and was now sitting in a jail cell. He had also neglected to inform the arresting officer's of who it was they had arrested. He was going to hang around and enjoy the show.

"Where is he!" Chris yelled into the desk Sergeants face.

"I'm sorry, where's who?" the man looked at Chris then somewhere else, in the hope that he would be able to find someone to help him.

"Don't act stupid with me! Ezra Standish, where the hell is he!"

"Uh, Ezra Standish," he started to read the arrest sheet.

"You do know who I am don't you?" Chris sneered at him.

"Agent Larabee, ATF."

"One of my men was arrested this morning. I want to know why. I want to talk to the arresting officers. I want my agent standing here next to me. I want all of this done in the next five minutes. If it isn't done then heads are going to roll. Now . . . if you really know me like you say you do, then you'll know that I carry out my threats."

"Yes Sir!"

Chris waited thirty seconds. "Well."

"There isn't an Ezra Standish on the arrest sheet."

"Five eight, short brown hair, green eyes, southern accent. Have someone find him and bring him here." Chris spoke with a calmness that even surprised himself.

Chris waited two minutes. He turned when he heard a door close shut and swallowed his anger when he saw Ezra. The man was a mess. His trousers were wrinkled, the white shirt was untucked, only four of the buttons were done up. The handsome face was pale, the green eyes bloodshot. A large bruise was forming on his forehead. He held his jacket in hands that were cuffed in front of him.

"Take those damn cuffs off my agent!"

"I'm sorry sir, but until I have proof that this man is an ATF agent, I'm not letting him out of these cuffs or out of this police station."

"You're not taking my word?"

"He said his name was Harold Smith." answered the man who had beaten and arrested the man he held beside him.

"You didn't check his ID?" Chris almost laughed out loud at the stupidity of the man.

"We couldn't find any." he shrugged.

"Did you bother to look for any." it wasn't a question, if they had looked they would have found his ATF ID.

"Of course we did, we found a weapon and no ID."

"You are an idiot."

Ezra raised an eyebrow at the comment and a small smile cracked his features.

Chris pulled a file out of the inside of his jacket and handed it to the man.

"Oh shit." the officer handed the file back. "He . . . he didn't identify himself as an agent. He was aggressive, drunk, and he resisted arrest."

"Is that true Ezra?" Chris looked at his agent.

"Yes . . . well . . . except for the drunk part, I was actually suffering from a hangover, and the aggressive part, that's my natural personality when I'm suffering a hangover. And as for the resisting arrest part, all I did was sit down on my bed, I still haven't received an explanation as to why I had the shit beaten out of me."

"What?"

Ezra lifted his shirt so Chris could see his growing bruises. He would normally have kept this to himself but the men that had done this needed to lose their jobs. If they did this to him, they would also do it to an innocent man. Guilty until proven innocent was how these two men worked.

"Where are the idiots who did that?" Chris pointed to Ezra's stomach.

"He fired two shots in his hotel room . . . " the black officer started knowing he was wasting his breath.

Ezra stepped out of the way when Chris rushed forward. The officer didn't know what hit him. One minute he was standing there, the next he was flat on his back holding his broken and bleeding nose.

"I want it in his report that he arrested an ATF agent while he was . . . "

"Throwing up." Ezra offered.

"Then beat the shit out of him . . . "

"When all he wanted to do was sleep." Ezra put in again.

"Then brought him here and threw him into a cell, when he should have been taken to a hospital!"

"Hospital?" Ezra stared in shock at Chris. "What do you mean hospital? I don't need a hospital."

"Didn't I ask you to take those cuffs off." Chris growled without taking his eyes off the man on the floor.

"There off already." Ezra threw the cuffs onto the floor.

Chris raised an eyebrow at him. "How did you do that?"

"Trade secret Mr Larabee."

"You're going to the emergency room. I want to make sure there's nothing seriously wrong with you."

"Apart from being sore and unwell, there is nothing wrong with me."

"Get your ass moving Standish, I've had enough crap for one day." Chris grabbed Ezra's arm and dragged him to the front door. "Thanks Jeff." he winked at the man sitting on a bench seat near the front door.

Ezra turned and looked at the man, he then looked back at Chris. "Who was that?"

"That was the man who told me you were here."

"How in the hell would he know who I was?"

"That man knows everything." Chris stated simply.

"Oh kay. . . " Ezra nodded.

Ezra slept while Chris watched from an uncomfortable position in an uncomfortable chair. Ezra had the better part of the deal, a soft bed, soft pillow, stiff sheets and an uninterrupted peaceful slumber; that was until he woke up, then he was going to be in a world of pain. Pain he didn't deserve. What was it with police officers these days. Some of them thought they had the power to be Judge, Jury and Executioner.

Chris looked down at the arm that lay across the slow moving chest. The bruise was growing larger each time he looked at it. He couldn't understand why the man had fought the doctors and nurses so hard. It had taken five attempts to get the IV into his arm. They had given up after the fourth and administered a sedative to make it easier for both patient and medical staff. The IV was then inserted without further complications.

The doctor had found no serious injuries but there was some bad bruising to his ribs and left kidney. There was no concussion or injury to his brain. It was insisted that Ezra stay for at least four hours so they could keep an eye on him and administer fluids into his dehydrating body.

Four hours, this was going to be a long wait on his part.

Ezra stretched his legs and rolled onto his left side. He snuggled his face deeper into the pillow and let out a deep sigh. This was his favourite part of the day. To wake up in the morning knowing that he didn't have to get up. He could stay in bed for hours if he wanted to and that was what he planned on doing.

"Ezra?" Chris leaned forward in his chair. "Ezra?"

Oh shit, what did he do now? And what the hell was Chris Larabee doing in his hotel room while he was sleeping.

"Ezra, you awake?"

"No Mr Larabee, I am not awake."

"The doc will be here in about twenty minutes, if everything's okay you can go home." Chris explained.

"Doctor? . . . where exactly am I Mr Larabee?" Ezra didn't want to open his eyes and see that one of his nightmares had come true. He despised hospitals.

"You're in a hospital emergency cubicle." he stood up and moved closer to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He placed a hand on Ezra's hip and felt Ezra flinch under the touch. "You remember what happened this morning?"

Ezra wanted to reach out and remove Chris' hand from his hip. He didn't like the friendship this man was offering. No Ezra, remember why he's doing this. He has to get through twelve hours with you. Not if I get fired first.

"Have I been fired?"

"For what?"

Ezra looked over his shoulder at Chris. This man was full of surprises lately. "For being drunk and disturbing the peace."

"You had a hangover Ezra, you were sick at the time and the police assaulted you. Why would you be under arrest. If anything, you should be suing their asses off."

Would nothing ever go his way.

"So, why did you get drunk?"

"That's none of your business Mr Larabee and could you please remove your hand."

"What did I tell you about calling me Chris."

"Mr Larabee . . . I don't know you, I don't even like you, I think you're an asshole who likes to control other peoples lives, so why in the hell would I want to call you by your fist name."

It was a lie, Ezra knew it. He had to be cold to stop this man from wanting to help him, to stop him from conning him by creating a friendship that didn't exist.

"So, what you're saying is, that you don't want to call me Chris."

"That, and the fact that I don't like you. I don't like any of you."

"Then why are you still here?" Chris asked him.

Chris didn't know what was behind this sudden animosity towards himself and the others but he was going to find out. Maybe it had something to do with what Agent Martin had said the day before.

The question shocked Ezra to the core. He didn't expect a question like that. He thought . . . , no he was sure that Chris would react angrily and possibly with violence.

"I've been asking myself the same question."

"Did you come up with an answer."

"Yes, I did."

"Mind if I ask what it was?"

"No."

"So what was the answer you came up with."

"I thought it was going to be different here, that the rumours wouldn't follow me, but they did, it's not going to change. I thought your team was going to be different, but you're not. I'm not trusted here either. I gave it time and now it's time that I left"

"Four weeks and you're giving up already."

"I'm not giving up Mr Larabee. I'm accepting the inevitable. I'm going to get fired sooner or later. It's better if I just quit now. It'll save everyone else the trouble of doing it for me." Ezra paused and looked down at his hands. He was speaking the truth, speaking from his heart and he didn't understand why he was opening up to a man that was going to hate him in a couple of days. Chris will probably take everything he'd said and throw it in his face. The thought didn't stop him, maybe later when Chris stopped to think about what had happened, he would partly understand a Southern bastard that was only kept on to do the Agency's dirty work. "I don't fit in with the rest of the team, and I'm never going to. I'm not trusted and I can't be bothered to fight for that trust. I'm too tired to keep fighting for something that I now know I'll never earn again. I can't work like that and I know you can't afford to have someone like me on your team. I'm a risk and I'll only get someone hurt."

"Give yourself some more time."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's never going to happen. Didn't you just listen to a word I said."

"Yeah I did. I know you're tired, you don't believe it's ever going to happen but it will. You have a chance here Ezra, I'm giving you that chance. I trust you, the others will too. It's like you said, you haven't had a chance to prove it, once you have, they'll trust you."

"You're not the one that's stopping me from proving myself." Ezra growled. "When did you say I could leave here."

"About twenty minutes. You're going to spend the night at my place so I can keep an eye on you. Don't want you getting drunk again. You've got to go on a stake out day after tomorrow. We can also spend some time talking about your job and what we're going to do about it."

Ezra ignored him, there was no way in hell he was staying at Chris Larabee's place.

"Look Chris . . . " shit, this man was getting to him, "Mr Larabee, I've told you already, it won't . . . "

"I'll talk to Travis." Chris wasn't going to react to the use of his first name. It only proved to him that what Ezra had said before about not liking him, wasn't true. This all must have something to do with Martin. He made the decision that after he spoke to Travis, he was going to have a word or two with Martin.

"I don't want you to talk to Travis."

"I'm talking to him anyway."

"Fine, talk to him but I'll be putting in my resignation after I've completed my first exciting assignment. Twelve hours in a room with you, I don't know how I'm going to handle it."

"You'll love it Ezra."

"Go away."

"No, I'm staying until the doctor arrives, then we're going to the office where you can rest while I finish up some stuff and talk to Travis, then I'm taking you to my place."

"I'm not going to your place." Ezra growled at him.

"You're not staying in a hotel! You're not well, the doc said you've got some pretty bad bruising and that you need to stay off your feet for a few days. You need looking after and we're going to do that for you."

"Fuck!" Ezra rolled over and forced himself into a sitting position and grabbed his side, the pain only made him more angry. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What?" Chris pushed himself further onto the bed, Ezra wasn't going to force him off it.

Ezra slammed his head onto the back of the bed in frustration. He missed the grimace that crossed Chris' features. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"As I said before Ezra. What am I doing?"

"Fuck you!"

"What's got you so angry?"

"Being in this fucking hospital and you!"

"Me? What did I do?"

"You're being a fucking friend, that's what you're doing!" Ezra yelled at him.

"Excuse me?" Chris smiled in relief, he thought it was something serious. "You're pissed off at me because I'm being a friend."

Chris Larabee was scaring the hell out of him. He was supposed to betray the man in a couple of days. This was going to make it even harder.

"Can I please stay with someone else."

"I'm sorry Ezra, didn't mean to come on so strong."

"Are you for real?"

"What do you mean?" Chris frowned at him.

"This friendship crap, is it . . . never mind." Ezra waved him off.

"If you're talking about me being a friend . . . yeah it's for real."

"Whatever Mr Larabee." Ezra wanted to believe him but past experience told him not to, he didn't want to be hurt again.

"Ezra,I . . ."

"Don't, just don't." Ezra rolled over until his back was facing Chris. He wanted out of this career and out of this life. He'd had enough of all the crap that people like Chris were trying to feed him. It was all a lie, Larabee just didn't have the guts to tell him that.

Chris quickly grabbed hold of Ezra's elbow when the smaller man continued to sway side to side after the elevator had stopped. Maybe the doctor shouldn't have allowed him to leave so soon. The features were still pale and dark blemishes had begun to show under the green eyes. Ezra Standish looked like shit.

Ezra pulled his arm from Chris' grip. He only needed to pretend so much, he wasn't going to do anymore than he had to. He stepped out of the elevator and saw Nathan Jackson heading towards him. The undercover agent turned his head towards Chris and gave him a questioning look.

"I called him while you were getting dressed. Wanted to make sure he was here to keep an eye on you while I talk to Travis."

"You couldn't have phoned Tanner instead?" Chris shook his head. "You do know that this guy is going to give me a speech about morals and how I don't have any. That I should be more respectful to those I work with."

"Maybe you should listen to that last part."

"I will endeavour to do so Mr Larabee." Ezra smiled.

"Hey Ezra, you all right?" Nathan frowned at the Southerner's appearance but there was no concern written on his own dark features.

"Piss off Mr Jackson, I don't need a nurse maid!"

"That's the way Ezra," Chris slapped him on the back, "I knew you could do it."

Ezra pushed himself away from the two men and tried to make his way to his own office. His arms were abducted as was his body and he was forced to go in a direction that would take him to Larabee's office.

"My office is just as good as your's." Ezra growled.

"My office has a couch." Chris smugly replied.

"You need the room to sit your fat ass." Ezra retorted.

"I knew you had a sarcastic wit in there somewhere." Chris opened his door and pointed to the couch. "Lie down, get some sleep and I'll be back in about an hour, maybe two."

"I don't want to sleep Mr . . . "

"While you're still working for me Standish, you will follow my orders! Is that understood."

Ezra bit back the retort, he had no choice, Larabee was walking out of the office and closing the door behind him. Yes he respected Larabee but sometimes he didn't really like him.

Jackson tried to gently pushed Ezra towards the couch but when he resisted he used physical force.

"I can find my own way!" Ezra growled at him as he tried to plant his feet so he couldn't go any further.

"Then find it." Nathan pushed him forward and watched as Ezra half fell onto the couch.

"Lie down."

Ezra pushed himself into a sitting position.

"You don't want me to make you Standish." Nathan threatened.

"Why not? I know you'd enjoy adding to the bruises I already have."

"Just lie down Ezra, I'm not in the mood for this."

"Me neither Mr Jackson, so why don't you just go away."

"No, I've got my orders."

"Uh huh," Ezra nodded, "should have known you weren't doing it out of the kindness of your heart."

Ezra lay down and faced the back of the couch. He didn't want to see the man who had been ordered to sit with him.

Nathan waited until the Southerner was lying down then left to get a blanket. When he returned a few minutes later, Ezra was fast asleep. The ex-medic placed the blanket over the still form and pulled it up to rest under Ezra's chin. He then made himself comfortable in Chris' chair and watched the man sleep. How could someone who looked so innocent when he slept be such a bastard when he was awake.

Chris knocked on the Judge's door then entered the office without waiting for permission. The Judge was sitting behind his desk, ignoring whoever it was that had entered his domain unannounced. Chris wasn't in the mood for games, he wanted to deal with the situation and find out what the Judge had against Ezra.

"Why won't you allow Agent Standish to go undercover?" Chris didn't even bother to sit down, he didn't think he was going to be here for very long.

"What makes you think it's me that's stopping him?"

"Because he doesn't think it's me." Chris answered the question truthfully.

"Do you agree with him?" Travis put his pen down and removed his reading glasses. His eyes stared at Larabee.

"I wouldn't be standing here if I didn't."

"He's out of control at the moment, he hasn't dealt with his past and that may be a problem."

"That's it?" Chris was dumbfounded.

"That's it."

"That's a pathetic excuse!" Chris growled. "The only way he can deal with those rumours is by working, by showing everyone that he can do the job. What you're doing is making him look like an idiot."

"I wasn't talking about the rumours."

"What were you talking about?" Chris demanded to know.

"That's privileged information Chris. It's something that Standish doesn't want people to know, so it was taken off his record and put in a separate private file."

"Don't you think that I should know about it, I am his boss for Christ sake."

"It has nothing to do with the job Chris, it's a personal matter. It came up in his last case, some people made a big deal out of it. The wrong people used it against him, said it was the reason he was taking bribes."

"What was it? Did something happen to him?"

"Chris . . . " Travis had felt sorry for the undercover agent when he'd read the report in it's entirety. No one deserved that sort of treatment, not even Standish, but his past didn't make him any more likable. The man went out of his way to make enemies. It was obvious that it was the only life he knew and he had expected it to carry on into his adult hood, and in a way it did. "I can't tell you that, you'll have to ask Ezra. All I can say is that he needs to deal with it before he can go back to work."

Travis knew Standish would go off the handle if he heard what he'd just said. He knew Standish was the best at what he did, that's why he'd been kept around, even if it was only to work undercover within his own agency. He was where they could keep an eye on him, a place where he wouldn't get hurt. Travis had thought that Chris would be able to pull him into line but so far it hadn't worked. There was little time left for Larabee and Standish. Travis no longer had a choice but to push Standish, he didn't want to lose either man.

"So it' not because you don't like him, or you don't think he can do the job?" Chris began to relax. If he could find out what had been taken out of Ezra's report then he should be able to help the stupid jackass to deal with it so he could then settled down in one place and make friends. Chris knew that Ezra didn't have a friend, not even in the FBI where he had worked for five years. It must be a lonely life.

"You can't help but not like him Chris, but that's because of the state he's in. I'm sure he's a nice guy once you get to know the real man. As for his work, his record speaks for itself, he was the best in the business."

"Was?" Chris tried again.

"I can't tell you Chris."

"Okay, as long as I know where Ezra stands." Chris nodded then turned to leave. He stopped after a few steps and turned back to the judge. "I want him to stay Judge, not because of his abilities, but because he needs a home, he needs friends. He hasn't got that, I don't think he's had that for a long time."

"You're right there Chris, he hasn't had it for a number of years." Travis hung his head in shame. He remembered the way he had spoken to the agent the day before. He'd threatened to throw him back onto the street where he found him. It was probably talk like that, that gave the man an attitude problem. He expected it so he instantly reacted that way. "Do what you can. I'm sure he'll grow on me in time." the last comment was spoken through a grimace.

"Thanks." Chris hesitated then left the room.

The Judge sat back in his chair and leaned his head back. After making the decision he got up and left his office. It was time he had a real talk with Agent Standish.

Agent Martin looked up and groaned when Chris Larabee walked into his office and made himself at home. The man that always dressed in black began to pick at the things he kept on his desk. Martin didn't even bother to try and out wait him, no one could be as stubborn as Larabee. The man could be both an enemy and a friend. He didn't have him as a friend and he didn't particularly want him as an enemy.

"What can I do for you Agent Larabee." he put his pen down and gave Larabee his full attention. If he didn't like where the conversation was going to go then he would stop it.

"I would like to know what you were talking about yesterday when you mentioned Ezra's partner." Chris laid one ankle on the desk in front of him and crossed the other over it then leaned back. He refused to looked Martin in the eye, he would do that when he needed to and not before.

"Don't know what you mean Larabee." Martin shrugged. This was something that he didn't want to talk about to Larabee.

"You said you knew what happened to his partner, that if it happened here, you wouldn't let him get a way with it." Chris brought his eyes up and used them to threaten the agent. "You're going to tell me what happened and you're going to tell me now."

"Standish hasn't told you himself?"

"No, I didn't know anything happened to his partner until you mentioned it yesterday . . . Now, do I have to ask you again."

"No you don't have ask me again, I'm not deaf." Martin stood up and walked towards his office door, he stopped and held it open. "Larabee, you may think I'm an idiot and an asshole, but I'm not a gossip. I have no intentions of starting any sort of rumour, be it a lie or the truth. If you want to know what happened, you ask the man yourself."

"You're not going to tell me . . . even if I threaten you?"

"I'm not going to tell you, I'm not that sort of person." Martin informed him.

"Okay, fine, I'll just have to do this myself." Chris stood up and walked out of Martin's office. A small smile crept onto his face. Martin had some balls after all.

Travis knocked on the door then opened it when he received an answer. He had expected Chris' voice, not Nathan's. He hid the surprise he felt to find Standish sleeping on the couch. His old tired body moved forward and sat down as quietly as it could into a chair. He watched the sleeping form and tried to think of a way to talk to Ezra when he woke up. He needed to get it across to the man the importance of getting Chris to talk about what had happened. He needed evidence so he could clear Chris' name at the hearing. Without that evidence Chris would lose, he would then be officially charged with murder.

"Is there any particular reason why he's sleeping on that couch instead of working?" Travis asked the ex-medic.

"He hasn't had a good day." Nathan shrugged. Chris hadn't explained Ezra's condition to him, just that he had been ill and the doctor had ordered him to rest. He had been given the job of baby sitting the man while Chris tied some lose ends before he took the Southerner out to the ranch.

"Really. How did he get the bruise on his forehead?"

"I didn't ask."

"Why not?"

"He would've just told me to mind my own damn business."

"That's true." Travis turned back to watching Ezra. "He going to be here all day?"

"No, when Chris is finished doing what he has to do he's taking him home . . . to Chris' place that is, for some reason Chris is feeling motherly towards the shit."

"There's a reason for everything Agent Jackson."

Nathan frowned at the judge but didn't question him about his statement.

"You can go, I'll stay here with him."

"I don't think that . . . "

"That was an order Agent Jackson!"

"Yes Sir." Nathan stood up and without looking at either man, he left the room. The door was slammed shut behind him.

Ezra jerked awake at the sound.

"Nice one Jackson." the Judge commented under his breath.

The first thing Ezra thought was that he was going to be fired. About time. His second thought was that Travis was going to eat him alive. The expression the Judge was wearing made him feel very uncomfortable.

"Judge . . . " Ezra greeted as he tried to pull the tangled blanket from his body.

"Stay where you are Ezra, I've been told that you should be resting."

Ezra nodded and looked away from the older man. "Chris told you what happened?"

"No, he didn't. And I didn't tell him what you don't want people to know."

Ezra's eyes shot back up, a threat of erupting anger shown through his green eyes.

"I didn't tell him anything Ezra, he knows something's wrong. Maybe you should talk to him about it."

"That's not why I'm here remember." Ezra growled back at him.

"I'm not going to get angry Ezra, I did that yesterday and look where it got us." the judge smiled at him. "Chris wants you to stay."

"He'll change his mind after he finds out why I'm here."

"Somehow I don't think so." Travis continued to smile.

"Why would he want to keep me on?" Ezra was becoming even more scared.

"Ask him." Travis suggested.

Ezra nodded and laid his head back down. This case was harder to deal with than a physical beating. He closed his eyes against distant memories. Now was the wrong time to start thinking about his past.

"Ezra . . . I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm worried about Chris, this shouldn't be happening to him. He was just doing his job. The stupid idiot isn't even worried about it, he doesn't think that it'll go to trial. I'm a judge, I know it's going to go to trial."

"I understand . . . " Ezra stayed in the same position.

"I'm worried about you also."

So far there hadn't been any sarcasm, or anger coming from the agent. Maybe this was what he was really like. It made a nice change.

Ezra opened his eyes in shock but didn't look at the Judge. Why was this shit happening to him and why now?

"You're going through a pretty bad time yourself. You need to talk to someone about it."

"Judge, I'm trying to do a job. I don't need that brought up and thrown in my face."

No resentment and no anger, not really anything.

"I'm not throwing it in your face Ezra. After this is finished, I want you to stay with the team and get some help."

"Judge . . . please . . . not now."

"You know Ezra, you can be likeable when you don't use that smart mouth of yours."

"Thank you . . . I think."

"We'll talk about your new job when you're finished the one you're on."

Ezra just nodded and shifted himself closer to the back of the couch.

"You go home with Chris tonight, I'll ask him not to bring the subject up. Okay?"

Ezra nodded again and closed his eyes. He hoped that this would signal the end of the conversation.

"Get some rest, I'll stay until Chris comes back."

The undercover agent didn't think he would be able to get any rest while this man sat in a chair on the other side of the room watching him sleep. He rolled further onto his side and gritted his teeth against the pain. It hadn't really hurt before but now the bruising was starting to cause him pain. No, he wasn't going to be able to get any more sleep.

Inside his body was tense and unresponsive, on the outside his features were passive, his speech slow. He sat on a long sofa decorated with a white over-throw and brown and cream cushions. Chris sat on one side of him, Vin was on his right and Josiah sat on the chair that had been pulled around so it could face the ‘patient'. Ezra couldn't understand why Vin and Josiah had to come along. He didn't need three men to look after him. All he had to do was go to bed, he didn't need help to do that.

"You want something to eat Ezra?" Chris asked him.

I could do with a sandwich, I'm a bit hungry.

"No."

"What about some coffee?" Vin spoke in his left ear.

Sounds great.

"No."

"Something stronger perhaps?" Josiah smiled.

Sounds even better.

"No."

"You want anything at all?" Chris tried again.

Why the hell are they doing this to me? Are they setting me up for another fall? Maybe they did know about what had happened and were getting back at him in their own way.

"No."

"You tired?" Josiah frowned at the Southerner.

No, I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep tonight.

"Yes."

"How about we get you to bed then."

Anything, just get me away from these lies. That's what this is, it isn't friendship, it's a lie.

"Fine."

"Ezra . . . look at me." Chris demanded.

He didn't want to. Fingers closed around his chin and turned his face. Ezra tried to pull away but the grip became tighter.

"Are you okay, and tell me the truth."

"I'm fine, just tired that's all."

"I've fixed Adam's room up for you . . . " Chris started.

"Who's Adam?"

"My son . . . you can use it." Chris let go of Ezra's chin. The Southerner didn't know about his family. It wasn't something that Chris liked to talk about, he always kept his past to himself. Just like Ezra did.

Ezra saw the flicker of emotion in the light green eyes. "Won't he need it?"

"No, he won't be needing it."

"What if he . . . "

"He's away at the moment Ezra"

"Okay."

"Come on Ezra, you're tired, you need to get some sleep." Chris stood up and pulled Ezra to his feet. "Down the hall, second on the left."

Chris watched as Ezra disappeared down the hallway. When he heard the door open and close he turned to Vin.

"How can I get him to talk?"

"What?" Vin looked at Josiah for an answer.

"The stake out . . . I'm going to be in a room with him for twelve hours. It's the perfect opportunity to get him to talk. He won't be able to leave, and surely he can't keep changing the subject for that long. So how do I get him to talk?"

"Talk about what?" Vin asked him.

"Sorry, you don't know. This is just between us okay." when the two men acknowledge him Chris repeated what the Judge had told him. He also mentioned the comment that Martin had made the day before.

"So he's got a past." Josiah was nodding as though it explained everything.

"A work past or a personal past as in his childhood?" Vin leaned back and crossed his arms.

"The Judge said personal but didn't say if it was recent or his childhood."

"Now I'm getting curious." Vin knew something was wrong, that there had been something that was stopping the Southerner from being himself. He suddenly wondered what Ezra would be like if he didn't have the personal problems that were stopping him from living.

"Well? Any ideas of how I can get him to talk."

There was complete silence for at least five minutes.

"Why don't you just ask him." Josiah suggested.

"Because that won't work." Chris growled at him.

"You're not going to be able to get him to talk any other way." Vin smiled.

"Why not?"

"Because we tried everything we could think of with you and nothing worked. Ezra's just as stubborn as you are if not more."

"So you're not going to offer me any advice then."

"Ask him Chris, that's all you have to do." Josiah repeated.

"Did you ask me?"

"Yes."

"Did it work?"

"No."

"Then why should I just ask him?"

"Because anything else would just make him angry and you'll never get anything out of him."

"I'm not going to just ask him! And if you're not going to help then I'll think of something myself."

Ezra groaned when the alarm went off. It wasn't natural to be woken up by the sound of bad music while it was still dark. A banging on the door caused his head to jerk upwards, his eyes blinked and continued to do so for at least ten seconds.

"You awake in there Ezra?" Chris' voice yelled through the door.

"Go to hell Mr Larabee." Ezra groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head.

"Not today Ezra." Chris was actually chuckling. "You've got ten minutes then I'm coming to get you."

"Wonderful."

It had been different the day before, no one had woken him, he'd been left alone to sleep for as long as he wanted. When he did finally wake up, he found himself alone. A note had been left next to the pot of coffee. ‘Gone into work, you stay here, have the day off and rest up for tomorrow. You're going to need it. Chris' That short comment had ruined the day for him.

He'd spent the entire day doing absolutely nothing. He didn't worry, he didn't care, he had accepted the inevitable. All he could do was wait and let everything play itself out.

"Ezra!"

"What?" his head lifted and the pillow fell back.

"Get up!"

"I'm up." Ezra allowed his head to fall back down onto the mattress.

"Get up!" Chris' voice growled as the blanket was torn from the bed.

The chill hit him immediately. He grabbed for the blanket but it was out of reach.

"Come on Ezra, we have to leave in thirty minutes." Chris lifted the pillow and glared at the confused expression the undercover agent was wearing.

"What time is it?"

"Four thirty."

"WHAT!"

"Fou . . ."

"I heard you the first time." Ezra growled. "Why in the hell are you waking me up at this time of night?"

"It's not night time Ezra, it's morning and our shift starts at six."

Ezra sat up and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "That's an hour and a half away, why get up now?"

"This is why."

"This is why what?"

"You taking so long to get up, you asking so many questions, you know, the usual things." Chris slapped Ezra on the back and walked out of the room. "Breakfast in five minutes."

Ezra groaned and fell back onto the bed.

5:54am

The thirty minute drive had been full of one sided conversations. Chris had done all the talking and Ezra had slept the entire trip. They were now standing face to face with the men they were replacing. Both accepted Chris' hand when he reached out to them.

"Morning boys." Chris shook both hands.

Ezra moved to do the same but they both sneered at him and refused to shake his hand.

Chris growled at them and was satisfied when their eyes dropped to look at something on the floor.

"Anything we need to know before you two leave?" Chris pushed past the man on his right.

"The folder is on the chair." the one that Chris had, more or less pushed out of the way, turned to watch the man in black.

"That's not what I asked you Stanton!"

"There's nothing you need to know," he shrugged, "the subject hasn't showed up yet."

"Then piss off!"

"Sir."

The two men left. Chris turned back around and found Ezra standing with his arms folded across his chest and his head turned over his right shoulder. He'd obviously watched the two men leave. Did one of them say something to him?

"I'd fire them all if I could." Chris apologised to Ezra for what everyone was doing to the Southerner.

"Does that include Buck and Nathan?" Ezra continued to watch the door.

"They'll come around Ezra."

"It would be easier if you fired me," Ezra finally turned around, "it would be less paperwork and of course, you would save the company from all those payouts."

"You know Ezra, sometimes you can be a real idiot!"

"Not according to my SAT's."

"You can't see what's right in front of you can you?"

"I don't want to."

"Then, you're an idiot." Chris moved closer to the younger man. "It's about time you open your eyes Ezra, this opportunity might not happen again."

Ezra blinked, but that was all he was willing to do.

"I'll take the first watch, why don't you get some rest, you look tired." Chris motioned to the bed on the other side of the room.

Ezra didn't argue. Even though he had slept quite a lot in the last couple of days, he was still feeling tired. He sat down on the bed and tested it. The pillow was soft, but it reeked of a foul odour that could only come from men that didn't give enough attention to their case of bad body odour.

"I think I'll take the chair." Ezra quickly got up and moved to the chair that was opposite the one Chris was now sitting in.

"Something wrong with the bed?" Chris raised an eyebrow.

"It smells."

"I'm not surprised."

He watched as Ezra sat heavily in the chair and lean his head back.

"You been sleeping much lately?"

"I've been sleeping fine." Ezra opened one eye and looked back at Chris. "Why?"

Chris shrugged. "I don't know . . . you just look . . . a bit off."

"Thank you." Ezra closed his eye and waited for Chris to say something else but he didn't.

Chris looked down at his watch, he had eleven hours and fifty minutes left to find out what was bothering the Southerner. That was all the time he needed. He just had to wait until Ezra felt more comfortable with him and opened up a bit more. He would let him rest and then start involving him in some conversation. The question was, what was he going to talk to him about. The only things he knew about Ezra was that he had a mother, no other family, started in the police force and was recruited into the FBI, twice injured in the line of duty, one of which almost caused his death, then Ezra was transferred to his team after the rumours of being on the take had started. He could be blunt and ask him about his professional life, even if it was the only thing left to talk about. After that, he could then start with his personal life and what it was that was stopping him from doing his job.

A bit off. What was that supposed to mean. A bit off. He felt fine, well apart from being tired and thirsty. There was nothing wrong with him. It could be the bruising that he had. They were sore but nothing else.

"My bruises still hurt a bit. Maybe that's why I look a bit off." Ezra explained.

"Could be." Chris nodded. He hesitated for only a second. "You been injured in the line of duty before?"

"The bruises weren't inflicted while I was working."

"Have you ever been injured in the line of duty?"

"Why are you asking?" Ezra knew there was something behind the questions, he just didn't know what and he didn't want to know.

"Just conversation." Chris took his position behind the camera with the high lens. He could see the building across the street and the front door. What were they supposed to do if the guy went in through the back entrance.

"A couple of times, nothing serious."

Nothing serious my ass. Chris looked at Ezra, the man was still leaning back with his eyes closed.

"So how come you don't like hospitals?"

"People die in hospitals." was the simple reply.

"They also get better."

It looked as though Ezra was going to say something but for some reason changed his mind. Chris decided not to push it.

"What about you?"

Chris hid his shock, he didn't expect Ezra to lead part of this conversation.

"Yeah, took one in the leg once and one nearly tore my brain in two. Pretty lucky to survive that one." Chris nodded as the memory flickered through his mind. "Helped to have Buck and the others around, they helped me through it. Life isn't good unless you have friends that care about you."

"Really Mr Larabee."

"You can take my word on that one Ezra."

"I'm going to have to."

Ezra, you let that one slip.

"Would you like some coffee Mr Larabee?" Ezra changed the subject before Chris could ask him what he meant. His dry throat and thirst was also urging him to drink some liquids.

"May as well, we're going to be here for a while."

"Another eleven hours and forty two minutes." Ezra muttered to himself.

7:36am

"You know Ezra, this is going to get pretty boring if we sit here in silence for the entire time we're here." Chris told the man who was staring out the window.

"I don't see that we really have anything to talk about." Ezra shrugged. "It's not like were friends."

Ouch! "You may think you're not my friend Ezra, but I'm yours, whether you want me to be or not."

Ezra's head slumped towards his chest. "Don't push it Mr Larabee, I'm not exactly in the mood for another argument about your so-called friendship."

"I'm not arguing with you Ezra, you're the one that's missing out."

Ezra drank the rest of the coffee in his cup and poured himself some more. His thirst was yet to be satisfied. Ezra started to think. He was going to be fired after this job anyway. He wasn't going to see Larabee or the others after this. Even at the hearing he won't have to look at him or talk to him. What was wrong with being a little more open now. He could admit to things that Larabee won't be able to throw back in his face. Chris wouldn't tell the other members of the team, he wasn't like that. But the main thing was, if he spoke, then Larabee would have to also.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Don't start that again! Damnit! I'm trying here and all you can do is act dumb! I told you that I don't want an argument."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Chris leaned forward in the chair and rested his elbows on his knees. "Now, not to get too emotional here, you're a nice guy Ezra and I mean a good guy. You're funny, sarcastic, you could be loyal if you allow yourself to be, you're easy to talk to . . . " he let that sink in before he started on the other reasons. "You're lonely because you don't have any friends," he saw Ezra flinch as those words left his mouth, "you think no one cares about you, you don't seem to be able to trust anyone, you keep people at a distance and use words that are meant to hurt, to stop people from wanting to get close to you, you have no one to talk to about what's bothering you, there are other things too Ezra but I won't go on. Ezra, you need a friend and I want to be that friend."

"Why?"

"Because I like you. Some people click, others you dislike on the spot. I think we click."

"I don't need a friend, I've gotten by without one and I'm not going to change what works for me."

"But it doesn't work for you Ezra."

"What makes you an authority on the subject. You don't know what works for me. You don't even know me."

"That's because you won't let me get to know you. And I do know about not having friends, and pushing people away."

Ezra looked at Chris and saw the honesty in his green eyes. "How?"

"My wife and son were murdered . . . "

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"That's okay Ezra, it's something I don't like to talk about, and before you say it, I don't talk about it because it still hurts too much." Chris took a deep breath and sat back in the chair. He was about to take a big step here and he hoped some of it got through to the stubborn idiot that sat opposite him. "I wasn't there when it happened. Someone set the house on fire, they didn't know I'd gone away with Buck for the weekend. I came home to find the house burnt down and my family dead. You couldn't imagine the amount of guilt I was feeling. I quit the force and started drinking. I pushed everyone away, including Buck, I even tried to shoot him once when I was so out of it that I didn't know what I was doing. But he didn't give up on me, he wouldn't give up. He was and is a good friend Ezra, I don't think I would have survived without him. I ended up in the hospital, I nearly died from alcohol abuse. Buck stayed with me through it all and pulled me out the other end. I owe that man my life."

"When did it happen?" Ezra asked quietly.

"Just over five years now. I go and see them every weekend."

"I can't imagine it, loosing a wife is one thing, but losing your son. You must have died inside when it happened."

"I wish I had, I probably wouldn't have felt anything, it would have been a lot easier than drinking."

Ezra nodded. "How old was he?"

"Eight."

Ezra could hear the sorrow in Chris' voice. "We don't have to talk about this."

"It's okay."

"No, I can see that it still hurts too much."

"There are times when I can smile and laugh at some of the memories. Buck and I sit down sometimes and talk about old times, he can change it around so I laugh instead of cry. That's the sort of friend you need Ezra."

"There aren't many like Mr Wilmington."

"Probably not, but how are you going to know if you don't look for one."

"I'm going to make some more coffee." Ezra stood up and walked away from Chris. The man was right, he needed a friend but past experience stopped him from wanting one.

9:03am

"Ezra . . . " Chris stared at the younger man.

"What?"

"You don't look well."

"I feel fine Mr Larabee." Ezra muttered through the hands that held his chin.

"You're pale. You should have something to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten since last night." Chris reminded him.

"I'm not hungry, maybe later." Ezra took another sip of the coffee. He thought the caffeine would help him to wake up but the opposite seemed to be happening. He not only felt tired but his body felt like it had just gone twelve rounds with Buck Wilmington. Now there was a man that wanted to hit him until he bled.

"Ezra . . . "

"I said I'm not hungry."

"How old were you when your father died?"

"What makes you think he died." Ezra raised his eyes to look at Chris. The man was concentrating on watching the property across the street. At least that would make it easier for him to talk. Chris had given him a piece of his soul, he may as well return the favour, and it might get him off his back for a while.

"Your file."

"He left when I was six."

Chris turned his head to stare at him and saw Ezra look away. "Why does your file say that he died?"

"I lied when I filled out my paperwork."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want people to know that he left . . . because of me."

"He didn't leave because of you. I mean, hell, how does a six year old cause his father to leave."

"He didn't like me, was disappointed in the way I was turning out. At the age of five I was already winning money playing cards and conning old people into giving me money. My mother taught me from the moment I could walk and talk. He didn't like it so he left." Ezra shrugged it off as though it meant nothing.

"That wasn't your fault Ezra, you were too young to know any better and your father was an idiot for leaving." Chris saw the anger flicker in Ezra's eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to stand up for the asshole." Ezra's eyes lowered. "What makes you think that's why he left anyway."

"He told me before he left." Ezra continued to look at the floor.

"Then he was a fucking bastard Ezra, you were better off without him."

"I don't know, maybe it would have been better if he stayed around."

"What makes you think that?"

"Nothing . . . can we talk about something else please."

"Well, at least I now know not to play cards with you." Chris smiled. "There's still the others though."

"I'm not staying remember."

"I've got time to talk you out of that."

10:13am

"Chris."

"Yeah." he looked away from the camera.

"If I asked you a question, a personal one. Would you answer it or tell me to shut up?"

Chris actually laughed. "I wouldn't know what my reaction would be until I heard the question."

Ezra stood up and began to stretch his back. A pain in his lower back had begun suddenly and was beginning to radiate towards his legs. Damn chairs. He started to pace the small room in an attempt to ease the cramping in his muscles.

"I'll tell you what Ezra. I'll answer your question, if you answer one for me."

Ezra stopped where he stood. He wasn't sure about that one. Chris could ask him anything. What if it was something he didn't want to talk about. He could simply say no.

"I'm not sure about that . . . "

"I won't ask you anything to personal." Chris lied.

Ezra began to pace again. He felt a small wave of dizziness flow through him. Where the hell did that come from. Was he scared of what Chris might ask him. Was this his mind's way of warning him to stay quiet. His green eyes drifted over Chris' frame as he walked passed him. There was something about that man that made him want to seek out everything he wanted in his life. He no longer believed that Chris was trying to con him to make this twelve hour stint better. Especially after he told him that his family had been murdered. He knew Chris didn't like to talk about things; neither of them did but they both had different reasons for doing it. Chris was a personal man, he didn't put his problems out there for people to talk about. Ezra was afraid that people would use his words against him, that they would come to believe that he was weak and a coward. A man that deserved everything he'd received in his life.

In less than eight hours he would never see Chris again. He would make sure of that.

"Why won't you tell the Judge what really happened?"

"What?"

"You won't tell him the truth, a truth that would stop you from going to jail."

"The facts will speak for themselves Ezra!" Chris growled at him.

"The Judge says they won't, and he should know. He believes that it's going to go to court and that you'll be charged and found guilty of murder."

"Where the hell did this come from? Did Buck put you up to this?"

"Mr Wilmington won't even give me the time of day."

"Then how do you know so much about it?"

"When the Judge found out about this he asked me to try and talk you into speaking up for yourself."

"I won't tell him because it involves someone else."

"You're willing to go to jail for someone else."

"I won't go to jail."

"Chris . . . " Ezra sat down and ran his hand through his hair, "how long has Travis been a Judge?"

"About thirty five years I think."

"Was he good at his job, fair to both parties?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you believe what he has to say? Why won't you trust his judgment?"

"I won't go to jail."

"Then you're a damn idiot!" Ezra put his hand against his back as the pain began to worsen. It was beginning to spread to his stomach.

Chris sat staring at Ezra for at least the fifth time since they sat down.

"You know, you really don't look well. Are you sweating?"

"Who is it? Someone you work with? A police officer? A snitch?" Ezra saw the truth in the pale green eyes. "It was your snitch. He saw something that could get you off the hook but if he comes forward, his life becomes endangered."

"Something like that!"

"You have heard of protective custody . . . haven't you!" the stupidity and loyalty of the man was causing his anger to rise. "Why risk your life for someone else?"

"You do that for friends Ezra. If you allowed yourself to have some, you would know what I'm talking about."

"Then you're a fucking idiot! Friends don't do that. They turn on you. They use you for what they can get then throw you away. They make you feel good then tear your guts out and leave you bleeding to death on the ground. There is no such thing as a friend. People always want something and they get it by pretending to be a friend."

"That's bullshit Ezra and you know it!"

"No I don't know it!"

"Why don't you know it." Chris stood up and walked to Ezra's chair. He leaned over the smaller man then hesitated. He could see the sweat glistening on Ezra's face, his skin was pale and clammy. "What is it that you had taken out of your file that you don't want people to know."

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Ezra pushed Chris out of the way and jumped to his feet.

The pain in his stomach became severe enough for him to double over and fall to his knees. One hand fell forward to hold his weight while the other arm wrapped itself around his stomach.

"Ezra?" Chris knelt down beside him and put a hand on the shaking shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." Ezra groaned and fell onto his right side. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Hold on a sec." Chris began to frantically search for some sort of container.

"Can't."

Ezra tried to push himself up onto his knees. He only managed it because Chris took his shoulders and pulled him up. The older man continued to hold onto him while he vomited.

"Hang on Ezra, it'll be over in a minute."

It was actually five minutes.

"Let's get you back into the chair."

Chris hauled Ezra to his feet and began to turn him to sit in the chair when the Southerner collapsed against him.

"Ezra!"

10:46am

The pain caused Ezra's eyes to flicker open. He could feel the hands probing his body and he began to fight them. The pain worsened and he pulled his arms back to protect his stomach. He tried to roll onto his side but something stopped him.

"It's okay Ezra, they're trying to help you."

That was Chris' voice. His eyes searched for the man and he found him sitting on the floor next to him.

"Who . . . ?"

"The medics."

A face appeared above him. It was the type of face that wasn't comforting. Ezra became worried that this man wasn't here to help him.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Ezra looked at Chris.

"Tell him Ezra."

Ezra hurt to much to argue, he just wanted them to give him something so the pain would go away. Maybe then Chris would let him go back to the hotel to rest.

"My stomach and back hurt, my legs too."

The medic lifted the shirt that belonged to Chris. When the man had demanded that Ezra stay with him, he had failed to get Ezra some clothes from his hotel room.

"Does this hurt?" the medic pressed against Ezra's abdomen.

"Yes, that hurts!" he pushed the man's hand away.

"What's the pain like?"

"It's bad, my stomach and back, it's like a throbbing pain that won't ease up."

"Is it his appendix?" Chris asked.

"No."

"Do you know what it is?"

"No."

Chris moved closer to Ezra and gripped his hand. He felt Ezra panic and pull his hand away. Chris held on even though Ezra continued to try and free his hand.

"Bill, call in, let them know what we've got."

Both men listened as the medic made contact with the trauma room and listed Ezra's symptoms.

" . . . rapid pulse, clammy skin, severe sweating, vomiting, fainting, severe pain in back and abdomen and legs. Abdomen is rigid and with tenderness to touch."

"If it helps, he was also drinking a lot this morning and he's been tired." Chris offered.

"Also thirst and tiredness." the medic added.

There was a few seconds of silence, then a voice told them to get the patient to trauma ASAP.

"I don't need to go to the hospital." Ezra spoke up when he heard the urgency in the female voice.

"Sir, you need to go to hospital."

"No I don't!"

"You don't have a choice Mr Standish."

"I do."

"Ezra!"

"I can say no . . . " Ezra grimaced and gritted his teeth against the constant throbbing pain.

"Ezra please."

"No."

"Put him on the gurney and strap him in."

"Chris! NO!"

"Ezra, there's something seriously wrong. You're going, you no longer have a choice in the matter."

"I thought you wanted to be a friend."

"Friends do this too Ezra."

"Bastard!" Ezra hissed out through clenched teeth. "Get the hell away from me!" he pulled his hand from Chris’ grip. "I don’t want him near me." Ezra told the medics.

"I’m coming anyway Ezra."

"Sir, he said he . . . "

"Do you want to deal with him on your own, or do you want my help."

The medic nodded and grimaced when Ezra cursed at him.

Chris pulled out his cell phone and dialled in Vin's number while he watched the medics lift Ezra and put him onto the gurney. They strapped him place and began to wheel him out of the room.

"Vin . . . it's Chris . . . just listen will you! Something's wrong with Ezra, I had to call an Ambulance, we're going to the hospital now . . . hang on. Which hospital?" Chris asked the medic as he followed the gurney.

"Denver Memorial."

"You hear that Vin . . . yeah, let Martin know that he's going to have to get someone in here. I'm not staying . . . no, Ezra's not going on his own, he doesn't like hospitals. Thanks . . . yeah . . . I'll see you there."

Chris Larabee paced the surgical waiting room in an agitated manner. Hands ran through his hair, pulled at his shirt and moved in and out of his pockets. Ezra’s condition had worsened on the way to the hospital, the pain had become intense, and his stomach had become swollen, but for some reason he had continued to fight the medic and the straps that held him to the gurney. Chris’ stomach churned in sympathy for a man who was now on his own. They had forced him to leave the trauma room. Ezra had only been in there for a few minutes, they had then rushed him through for an abdominal CT. Chris had no idea what was going on now.

“Chris,"

He turned around to find Vin walking towards him.

"What’s happening? Is Ezra okay?"

"He’s having a CT at the moment, apart from that I don’t know anything."

"Do they know what’s wrong with him."

"No." Chris began pacing again, he wasn’t handling the idea of waiting very well. "Shit Vin, he was in so much pain and he was terrified of coming here."

"He’ll be okay Chris." Vin insisted.

"He doesn’t want me here. Used some colourful language to describe what kind of person I am."

"That doesn’t seem to be stopping you." the sharp shooter smiled.

"Hell no!"

Vin’s smile dropped from his face and he became silent at the thought of what Ezra was going through.

"What about Martin?"

"Wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t insist on you staying there. Said he’d send a couple of guys over."

"Good. The others?"

"They’re on there way here."

"Here? Why? They don’t even like Ezra." Chris stopped and stared at Vin.

"They may not like him Chris but they’re not complete bastards."

"If one of them says anything . . . , anything at all, I’ll hit them, even if it’s JD."

"They won’t."

"Mr Larabee?"

Chris turned and saw a young man dressed in clean scrubs. No, not now, he didn’t deserve to die now.

"Yeah." Chris held his breath.

"I’m assisting Dr Jones during Mr Standish’s surgery. The Doctor asked me to come down and spend a couple of minutes with you to let you know what’s happening."

He wasn’t dead. "How is he?"

"Mr Standish has an abdominal aortic aneurysm and it has ruptured. We need to operate immediately."

"How would he get one of those?" Vin frowned.

"It’s something that’s caused by a physical trauma, but it takes years to develop. No symptoms show until it becomes more serious."

"But he’s going to be okay?" Vin asked for Chris.

"I’m sorry, but I can’t say for sure. Less than fifty percent of people who have a rupture survive. We’ll know more after we go in. We’ll either have to repair or replace the section of aorta that’s ruptured." the young intern allowed the information to sink in. "I have to go back, why don’t you guys wait in the surgical waiting room, we’ll come and let you know more after the surgery is completed."

"Thanks." Chris smiled weakly at the man then turned his back on him.

"I take it you haven’t had time to fill out any forms for him?" Vin started to walk to the front desk.

"Vin, I already have." Chris smiled when Vin gave him a confused look. "All I had was the information in his wallet. As to previous medical history, next of kin, I have no idea. They’ve had to go in blind."

"Isn’t his mother his next of kin?" Vin asked.

"Didn’t know she was still alive." Chris shrugged. "Besides, he left that part of his file blank. I asked him for a next of kin and he said he’d get back to me. That was three weeks ago."

"Yeah," Vin agreed. Even though Ezra had a mother, he had no one.

"Do you know how long the others are going to be?"

"They should be here in a few minutes."

"We’ll wait for them then head upstairs." Chris began pacing again.

Chris’ impatient manner hadn’t changed even after an hour of waiting. Five men watched him pace from one end of the room to the other. Each had tried to get him to sit down but he wouldn’t listen. They knew he was worried, some understood why, while others couldn’t understand his feelings towards the Southerner. Chris had hardly spoken to them since they arrived, he had refused to tell them what was wrong and when Vin had tried he warned him with a cold glare. Chris wasn’t sure if they were there for him or Ezra.

"Chris," Buck was going to try again.

"Don’t Buck." was the warning.

"Why not?"

"Because I told Vin that I would hit anyone who said anything against Ezra, and I don’t want you to have the opportunity to talk."

"We’re worried about him too." Buck argued.

Chris glared at Buck as he passed him. "You don’t even like him, you won’t give him the time of day. That’s the way Ezra put it."

"He doesn’t . . . "

"Buck!" Vin shook his head at him.

"All I was going to say was . . . "

"Don’t!" Vin couldn’t understand him, Buck had known Chris a long time, he should know that his friend would carry out his threat. Chris would do anything to protect his own, including dying for them. And Chris now considered Ezra to be one of his own.

"What happened to him?" JD asked.

"He’s got a stomach ache." was all Chris would say.

"Chris." Vin looked at him and nodded towards the doors. Judge Travis had entered the room.

"Boys." Travis greeted them. He stepped up to Chris. "How is he?"

Chris knew the Judge was concerned. "Not good."

"What happened?"

"The doctor said he had a ruptured abdominal," he looked at Vin.

"Aortic aneurysm." Vin finished for him.

"Damn." Nathan muttered.

"What’s that?" JD leaned closer to Nathan.

"It’s what it says it is JD. An aneurysm that’s burst."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"Probably not. The odds are against him."

"Shut up Nathan." Chris ordered him.

"Only telling JD the truth Chris."

"You really don’t think he has a chance?" Chris eyed Nathan.

"I’m sorry Chris, if he pulls through, it’ll be a miracle but there would be complications. He could have irreversible damage to his kidneys for one thing."

"Shit! So what you’re saying is that he might be better off dead."

"No one’s better off dead Chris."

Chris nodded. "Judge, can I have a word with you."

"Sure."

Chris lead the Judge to the other side of the room and stood with his back facing his fellow team members.

"I don’t appreciate you using Ezra to try and get me to talk!"

"What are you talking about?" Travis looked over Chris’ shoulder. His men were listening to the conversation.

"You asked Ezra to talk me into telling you what happened that day. I don’t want you using him like that."

"Did you agree to give the information I need to help you?"

"No."

"Chris! Damnit, you’re going to end up in jail."

"Don’t ever put Ezra in that position again."

"Chris, I didn’t, Ezra was doing his job." Travis explained to him.

"What do you mean doing his job?" Buck jumped out of his seat and joined the two men.

"Since the rumours, Ezra’s been used by the FBI, he didn’t have a choice, he either did it or he lost his job. I think he’s getting to the point where he doesn’t care anymore."

"How are they using him?" Chris pushed Buck away from them, he wasn’t a part of this conversation.

"They’re making him do the dirty jobs. They put him undercover in a team, and he investigates agents."

"So you did the same thing, you used him?"

"No, if he came through I was going to offer him a permanent position in your team."

"Really!"

"Yes."

"So, everything’s been a lie. The way he acts, the lack of friends, the information taken out of his file. It was all an act to get me to talk! Is that it."

"No Chris. None of it was a lie, none of it was an act."

"And you would know that because?"

"You didn’t get a chance to talk to him did you?"

"No, I tried but then he collapsed, this thing, I don’t know, one minute he seemed okay, the next . . . "

"Why don’t we sit down and I’ll tell you what was taken out of his file." Travis waited to see what Chris would do.

"I like the guy, thought that I would be able to trust him at some point. Now I find out he’s been lying to me about everything."

"Chris."

"I don’t want to hear it from you!" Chris turned away from him but spun back around. "Shit! I talked to him about Sarah and Adam, about how I felt when they died. About what Buck did for me. All of that just so he could turn it around and make me talk."

"Maybe he was doing what he had to do." Travis suggested.

"I’m going for a walk."

Chris moved away and ran straight into Josiah. The older man gripped his arm tightly to keep him from leaving.

"Chris, sometimes you can be a selfish, idiotic, stubborn pain in the ass. Ten minutes ago, you were worried sick about Ezra. Are you saying that you’re not worried anymore, that you no longer care. Because that’s the impression that I’m getting. The Judge just told you that none of it was an act. Maybe if you stopped and thought about it, you’d realise that Ezra believes you’re innocent, and he hasn’t even heard your side of the story. He could have easily sided with everyone else, but he didn’t. That tells me that he likes and no doubt respects you like the rest of us do. If Ezra comes through this they’ll take him into a room and leave him there, the only people he’ll see will be the nursing staff. There’s no one except you and the rest of us and at the moment, you’re the only one that will be able to help him get through this."

"How would he know if I’m innocent or not, he doesn’t know what happened."

"I just told you Chris." Josiah shook his head. "He respects you, it’s in the way he talks to you . . . he doesn’t talk to us like that."

"It was probably an act Josiah. He knew I wouldn’t talk if he acted the same way with me."

"No Chris, he respects you, you’re just to blind to see that."

Vin stepped up and stood beside Josiah. "You told me that he was terrified of coming here. Are you going to leave him alone now?"

"Chris," Travis pushed him towards a chair, "there are things that you need to know about Ezra Standish and I think you should all hear this."

Once everyone was seated, Travis turned so he could face Chris. This was the man he needed to convince. He wanted to make sure Ezra stayed with the team, but if Chris stayed in this state of mind, Ezra wouldn’t be able to work with him.

“When Ezra was eleven he was brought into my court room. The bruises were still visible on his face, his right arm was in a cast and he grimaced in pain every time he had to stand up or sit down." he saw the lack of understanding in Chris’ eyes, the others were looking at him in the same way. "His Uncle had beaten the shit out of him." Travis laughed. "The same Uncle was fighting for custody, can you believe it. He claimed Maude Standish wasn’t a fit mother. It was pathetic, a forty two year old, six foot two, two hundred and ten pound man, almost beat a scrawny eleven year old to death and then files for custody. At the time I didn’t know who had beat him, the Uncle had claimed it was Maude. She denied it. I had to talk to Ezra to ask him what had happened." Travis shook his head. "You couldn’t even touch the boy, he would cringe away from you and the fear in his eyes saddened my heart. It took me two hours just to get him to say something and another hour to tell me who had beaten him. Even though he was scared, he still used a smart mouth to keep me away, to stop me from comforting him in any way. He never smiled once. I threw the case out of court and had the uncle arrested."

"Is that what he had taken out of his file?" Chris asked him.

"No . . . "

Chris nodded.

"I don’t know what happened before that day and I don’t know what happened after it, but I’ve always remembered the expression on Ezra’s face when I closed the door to my chambers and we were alone. I didn’t hesitate about getting a female in there with us."

"You think he was sexually molested?"

"No, they checked for that when he was in the hospital after the beating. I think he was just scared that I was going to hit him."

"Was that the only time he was beaten?"

"I don’t know." Travis shook his head. "The next time I saw him was when he walked into my office four weeks ago. When I realised who he was, I checked his file to see how he turned out. He’s one of the best at what he does Chris."

"Did he recognise you?" Vin asked him.

"If he did, he didn’t say anything."

"So what’s stopping him from doing his job?" Chris took control of the conversation again.

"Eight months ago Ezra and his partner took part in a raid. Ezra’s partner went off on his own, told Ezra he’d seen someone and was going to check it out. Ezra told him to let it go, but the man took off before he could stop him. Ezra was with two of the men they’d arrested so he couldn’t go after him. When he finally got the chance he went looking for him. When Ezra found him, he was near death, he’d been beaten, and the man who had done it was standing over him pointing a gun at the agent’s head."

"Who was it?" Chris urged the Judge to go on.

"It was the same Uncle who had beaten him . . . "

"Shit!"

"Ezra hesitated . . . and could you really blame him. His partner was killed. Ezra was suspended pending an investigation. There was nothing found in the investigation to take it any further. A month later the rumours that he was on the take started. Some claimed that he had taken a payoff to allow his partner’s killer to get away."

"He’s still out there?"

"Yes."

Chris fell back against his chair and stared up at the ceiling. He thought he had gone through some bad times in his life. No wonder Ezra was the way he was . . . is.

"How the hell is he supposed to deal with that!"

"Has he seen a shrink?" Vin asked him.

"Yes, and he was lucky the physciatrist didn’t lay any assault charges against him."

"This time he’s talking to one and he’s going to listen." Chris told him. "Are you going to start the paperwork for a permanent transfer?"

"I put it in yesterday." Travis smiled at him.

"Good," Chris smiled back, "now all we need is for him to pull through."

Doctor Jones stepped into the waiting room to find seven tired and rough looking men laying in all sorts of positions. At least three of them lay on the carpeted floor while the other floor looked uncomfortable in the large chairs. He smiled at the sight. Jones coughed into his hand and received an immediate reaction.

"Gentlemen, I take it you’re all waiting for me."

"Don’t mess with us!" Chris threatened him as he pulled himself from his chair. His hand went straight to his back and he began to rub it.

"Mr Standish came through the surgery without any complications."

"So he’s going to be okay?"

"He still isn’t out of the woods yet, he’s very lucky, only a small percentage of patients fully recover." the doctor motioned for them to sit down again but they refused. "We know he doesn’t want to be here . . . "

"That’s putting it mildly." Chris nudged Vin.

"We’re going to keep him sedated, not fully though, he’ll be conscious but a lot calmer. The reason for this is so he doesn’t cause himself any injuries because he’ll fight us all the way if he was able to."

"When can we see him?"

"He’s being taken to ICU now, it’ll take them a few minutes to settle him in. You can see him in about ten minutes."

"Will it be okay if I stay with him?"

"Visiting hours are . . . "

"I meant stay with him. He’s going to be scared and I don’t want him to be alone in there."

"I’m sure we can arrange something for you. He’s not going to wake up for at least another two hours, you might want to go home and get a few things then come back."

"Thanks doctor." Chris reached out and shook his hand.

"You’re welcome and if you have any questions at all, don’t hesitate to ask someone."

"Thanks."

"Ten minutes." Jones smiled at the group of men then walked away from. He enjoyed giving good news and he didn’t always have a chance to do that.

Chris Larabee rushed through the hospital corridor and politely pushed his way into the elevator. He was late, thirty minutes late. The doctor had told them that Ezra would wake up in two hours, and he was late by half an hour. Maybe it was for the better, Ezra had been angry at him when he allowed the medics to take him to hospital. Vin would probably have been a more of a friendly face when he woke up.

The elevator doors opened and Chris stepped out. His eyes drifted over the men who were watching him. He hadn’t expected them to still be here. Chris smiled at them then started towards Ezra’s room. He looked before he entered. Vin was sitting close to the bed and seemed to be talking to Ezra. Chris sat his bag near the door and lay the paper work he’d brought with him on top of it.

"Vin?" Chris whispered.

Vin turned his head and smiled at the fearful look on Chris’ face. "You coming in or are you going to hide there like the yellow coward you are?"

"Is he awake?"

"Woke up about an hour ago, they sedated him half an hour ago."

"I asked you if he was awake!"

"He’s awake but he’s groggy."

"What sort of mood is he in?" Chris still refused to enter the small room.

"He’s groggy Chris, he isn’t in any sort of mood."

"So at the moment, I’m safe?"

"Idiot." Vin’s smile grew. "Get in here."

Chris hesitated but moved forward. The angry words that Ezra had yelled at him in the ambulance kept going through his mind. He wasn’t worried about himself, he didn’t want Ezra to get angry. When he reached the bed he smiled down at the younger man.

"Hey Ezra, good to see you’re awake."

Ezra’s only reaction was to blink at him.

"I see you’re in a better mood as well. You weren’t too happy the last time I spoke to you."

Ezra turned his head to watch Chris, he blinked a couple of more times. "Bastard." the word was whispered but Chris and Vin heard it clearly.

"I thought you said he wasn’t in a mood." Chris glared at Vin.

"Well you obviously put him in one." Vin shot back.

Ezra rolled his head back and closed his eyes.

"What were you talking to him about?"

"Talking? We weren’t talking, were we Ezra." Vin slapped Ezra’s upper arm.

A smile tugged at Ezra’s lips, but he didn’t have the strength to turn it into anything more.

"What’s he smiling about?" Chris pointed at Ezra’s face.

"Chris, that’s what you call a grimace of pain."

"No it’s not, he’s trying to smile."

Vin refused to say anything.

"Tell me or I’ll make your life a misery!"

"Okay," Vin shrugged, "I was telling Ezra that I need a partner in crime."

Chris raised an eyebrow, looked at Ezra who still had his eyes closed, then turned back to Vin.

"Well, it’s hard work pissing you off, I need a break every now and then and I thought Ezra would be the perfect one to take over when I’m not there."

"What?"

"He’s going to help me drive you crazy . . . "

"He agreed to that?"

"Not yet, I don’t think he really understood what I was talking about."

"Then why did he smile?"

"He was happy to see you."

Ezra moaned at the thought, happy to see him, like hell.

"You okay Ezra?"

"Go way." Ezra lifted a weak arm and tried to slap Chris’ arm away from his face.

"Sorry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m moving in until you’re ready to go home." Chris gently took the shaking arm and laid it back down on the bed and held it there. "I know you’re scared Ezra, I don’t want you staying in here without a friend by your side."

"Not a friend."

"Shut up Ezra and stop talking. That’s an order." Chris waited for Ezra to respond but it seemed the Southerner had gone back to sleep. "Did the Doctor have anything to say?"

"Said everything looked okay, won’t know for sure though for at least another twelve hours. He also said that Ezra would sleep a lot for another day or so because of the sedative."

"Good."

"Not so good when he wakes up though?" Vin asked him.

"I think he’s going to panic." Chris admitted.

"Well, we’ve got a couple of days to talk to him, convince him that it’s going to be okay."

"I think that’s going to be easier said than done."

"You’re going to have to do it Chris, the doc wants him in here for at least a week, longer if he doesn’t recover the way he’s supposed to."

"You hear that Ezra, the worse you make it for yourself, the longer you stay."

A low growl came from Ezra’s throat.

"I’ll take that as a yes." Chris smiled.

Ezra still didn’t understand what had been done to him. He had no idea why he was even here, no one had explained anything to him yet. A doctor kept coming in to examine him and he always spoke to Chris but his own mind was to messed up to understand any of the conversation.

He struggled to move his limbs but they felt too heavy, they were like lead. There was no way he was going to be able to stand up and walk out of the hospital. He was stuck here until his mind cleared and his body started to work again.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he blinked up at the face of Chris Larabee. Ezra tried to grimace at the sight but even his facial muscles didn’t seem to work. The hand shook his shoulder to get his attention. Chris’ mouth moved, words came out but they had no meaning.

He hated being like this. He had never had to rely on other people to help him. He’d been independent since he was seven. Now for the third time in his life he was in a hospital where the nurses did everything for him. He had no control what-so-ever over what was happening to him and he was hating every minute of it. The sooner he could get out of here the better.

"What’s wrong with me?" he asked Chris.

"They needed to operate Ezra, you’re going to be weak for a while but you’ll get better." Chris explained to him.

"What’s wrong with me?" Ezra repeated because every word that Chris had spoken went in one ear and straight out the other. "Why can’t I move?"

"The doctor is keeping you sedated Ezra. He’s afraid you’re going to panic and that this was the best way to stop you from hurting yourself."

"I don’t . . . other people hurt me." Ezra felt angry but something stopped that anger growing to the point where he could let it out. His head ached because he couldn’t release the anger, it was as though every time he tried, a wall made of rubber appeared and it bounced the emotion around in his head. That was what caused the headache, if he could get rid of the anger, his headache would go away.

"No one is going to hurt you here Ezra, you need to understand that. I won’t let that happen." Chris tried to assure him.

"No." Ezra tried to move away from Chris but the man gripped his shoulder tighter.

"Ezra, they’re going to stop giving you the sedative tomorrow. When that happens you’re going to be more awake, you’ll be able to move around more. But you have to do one thing for me. Ezra, are you listening to me?"

"No."

"You’re going to have to stay calm. If you don’t they might sedate you again. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Ezra nodded, he thought he understood some of what Chris said. The word sedated kept coming back to him. How long were they going to keep him like this. He wasn’t sure but as soon as they stopped, he would leave and no one was going to stop him.

Chris rubbed his red eyes until they watered. He was tired and he needed to sleep but it eluded him. He was afraid that if Ezra woke while he was asleep, the Southerner would get out of bed and walk away from his new life. But what made him so sure that Ezra wouldn’t walk away anyway. Once he was out of the hospital and fully recovered, he was going to be able to do what he wanted. He had to talk some sense into the guy, to try and convince him that what he needed was a new life that had six men that wanted to be his friends. Friends that wanted to take care of him, to show him what life could be all about.

"Ezra . . . " Chris started but hesitated.

"What?" Ezra wanted to turn his head and look at Larabee, but he just couldn’t be bothered.

"Travis filled out the required paperwork to have you transferred to us on a permanent basis. You’re now Team Seven’s new undercover agent."

Maybe if he had something else to stay for.

"Whatever." Ezra hadn’t understood much of that sentence.

"You’re staying in Denver Ezra, this is going to be your new home."

Did he say new home. He didn’t have a home. He didn’t stay anywhere long enough to need a home. No, when this was finished, he would have to move on again. Pity, he actually liked these men.

"When you’re better we’ll help you find a place. Don’t know if you’d want a house or a flat. You can’t stay in that hotel and when I say you can’t, well, I had Vin go over and get your things and fix up your bill."

"Let me sleep." Ezra muttered.

"You tired Ezra?" Chris looked down at his watch. It was seven forty five in the evening. Buck was due at eight thirty, he was going to stay with Ezra for a few hours while he caught up on some sleep. His bed would be the chair he was sitting in.

They were going to move Ezra to a private room in the morning. The doctor told him that they would make sure there was a fold up bed in the room for him.

"Ezra, are you tired?" he repeated when he didn’t get a response.

"What?"

"Buck’s going to be here soon. He’s going to sit with you for a while so I can get some sleep."

"I’m sorry but I don’t get half of what you’re saying." Ezra tried to lift his arm but what felt like a ton fell back to the bed.

"That’ll be the sedatives." Chris smiled. "Your head will be clear by this time tomorrow."

"My head?"

"Sedatives Ezra."

"Oh."

"Go to sleep Ezra."

"I’m tired." Ezra repeated again.

"I know, go to sleep."

Was that Buck’s voice he could hear. Why would Buck be here. There was no reason for him to be here. The man didn’t even like him. He could also hear Chris’ voice. At least Chris hadn’t left him alone with Wilmington. He didn’t like being left alone when he was in a hospital bed. He’d been terrified of hospitals as a child and now at the age of thirty two, he was still terrified. But what made him think that Chris Larabee would stop any of the medical staff from hurting him.

"You think he’s going to stay?" Buck turned to look at his friend.

"No." Chris admitted. "At the moment he doesn’t have a reason to."

"He’s got a permanent job." Buck reminded him.

"That’s not going to make him stay. Not after everything he’s been through. It’s not just a job he needs Buck. It’s a home, and friends."

"And you’re going to give that to him?"

"Yes I am Buck. You got a problem with that!" Chris growled at him.

"Chris, is there something you should be telling me?" Buck frowned at him.

"What do you mean?" Chris narrowed his eyes.

"You haven’t turned gay on me have you?"

"What!"

"I mean, you are spending a lot of time with him, and you told the Judge that you liked him. You want him to stay with the team . . . are you gay?"

Both men looked towards the bed when Ezra started to laugh.

"What the hell are you laughing at!" Chris practically yelled at him.

Ezra tried to place his hand on his stomach in an attempt to stop it from moving. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to stop laughing - gay - but his stomach was starting to hurt even more and the only way he was going to stop the pain was to stop his stomach from moving.

"Gay . . . " Ezra said through the laughter and pain.

"I’m not gay!"

"Gay." the Southerner repeated.

"Buck!" Chris warned him. "You started this, you can stop it . . . NOW!"

"You have no sense of humour Chris." Buck smiled at Ezra, it was the first time he’d heard him laugh. "He’s laughing Chris."

"I know Buck," Chris also smiled but then the expression dropped from his face, "it’s what he’s laughing at that I don’t like."

"Wilmington’s gay." Ezra continued to laugh. Tears were beginning to roll down his face but he wasn’t sure if it was from laughing too hard or the pain the laughter was causing.

"Well, that makes me feel better." Chris slouched down in his chair.

"Ow! that hurts." Ezra complained as he attempted to roll over.

"Then stop laughing." Chris continued to smile.

"Can’t." Ezra held his stomach with both arms. "Aw hell, it hurts."

"Ezra." Chris stood up and quickly moved to the bed. "Stop laughing."

Ezra started to cough violently.

"Buck."

"Already pressing it." Buck held his finger against the buzzer until a nurse ran into the room.

"What’s wrong?" She ran to the patient and began a quick examination.

"He’s choking." Chris informed her.

The young nurse gripped Ezra’s shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. She began to slap his back. "Pass me that bowl please."

Chris handed it to her then moved to the other side of the bed so he could help if he was needed.

The nurse placed the bowl in Ezra’s lap. She stopped hitting the patient and began to rub the heaving back instead. She reached over and grabbed the oxygen mask off the wall and expertly placed it over the patient’s breathing passages. "Take a couple of deep breaths Ezra."

Ezra did as he was told, he had no choice. Everything hurt and there was nothing he could do to stop it himself. He began to feel better when the coughing fit began to ease.

"Now just breath normally. It’s going to take a few minutes for the coughing to stop."

Ezra nodded that he understood, he’d been through this before. He grimaced as the pain continued to burn in his abdomen and his chest. This wasn’t good, and he still didn’t know what had happened to him.

"Do you feel like you’re going to be sick? Any mucus?"

Ezra shook his head and watched as the bowl disappeared.

"I’m going to lie you back down now okay."

Ezra nodded. He was grateful when his head hit the pillow. A soft hand began to stroke his forehead. Ezra opened his eyes and looked up into the blue eyes of the nurse. "Try and relax Ezra." she smiled at him.

Ezra blinked then allowed his eyes to close. He was tired, too tired as far as he was concerned.

"Feel better." A slight nod was the only response she received. "Good. Why don’t you try and get some sleep."

Chris watched as Ezra began to relax. His eyes followed the nurse’s movements when she adjusted the oxygen mask.

"I’ll come back in about twenty minutes and take that off." she stepped to the end of the bed and pulled the patient’s chart out. She began to write on it. "The doctor will probably want to do a chest xray tomorrow to make sure there isn’t any fluid building up in his chest."

"Is that bad?" Chris glanced at Ezra then back at the nurse.

"It could be. He didn’t really have any difficulty breathing, and he didn’t cough up any mucus. The xray will just be a precaution." she smiled at the two men then left the room.

Chris sat back down to wait. He shifted in his chair when Buck sat next to him.

"So," Buck nudged him, "you still haven’t told me if you’re gay or not."

‘What is it that you had taken out of your file that you don't want people to know.’ The words echoed in his skull. Ezra lifted his arm to rub his head, he felt his fingers tangle in his hair. Aw hell, what sort of mess was he in this time. The thoughts that were tumbling through his mind began to slow down and make sense. He was in a hospital. his eyes flew open in fear.

"Ezra, you okay?" Chris stood up and looked into the green eyes that stared back at him.

Ezra refused to answer, he had to think. He closed his eyes and sorted through the memories that were returning. Chris Larabee had forced him to come here. His anger grew and he enjoyed the feeling that it gave him. He had to get out of here. But they would stop him, sedate him again. That’s what they had done to him.

"How long have I been here for?"

"Three days." Chris answered him. "You haven’t been alone at any time Ezra."

Three days. Damn him. He had told Larabee that he didn’t want to go to the hospital but he had forced him, not given him a choice. Now he was here in this terrifying environment with no way out. No, there was a way out.

Ezra sat up and grabbed his abdomen with his left hand, his right was immobile, a drip had been securely set in the back of the hand.

"Ezra what are you doing?" Chris demanded to know.

"I’m going to my hotel to pack, then I will see Judge Travis, then leave this damn town."

"You can’t leave Ezra, you just had an operation."

"I want to see the doctor."

"Ezra, he won’t be around to see you until tomorrow." Chris tried to push Ezra back down onto the bed.

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

"Ezra," Chris pleaded with him.

"I either leave now, or I see my doctor now, then leave. It’s up to you Larabee."

"I’m only trying to help you Ezra."

"Help me!" Ezra retorted. "You made them bring me here, I wasn’t given a choice."

"You would have died if I didn’t force you to come."

"That was my choice to make, not yours." Ezra smiled at him. "It’s illegal to force someone to receive medical treatment when they don’t want it."

"You were unconscious, they weren’t able to ask your permission to save your life."

"I wasn’t unconscious when I told the medics that I didn’t want to come. They weren’t going to bring me until you told them to. I can sue."

"You don’t have a leg to stand on." Chris crossed his arms. "You would have died Ezra, don’t you understand that? Or don’t you care?"

"Get my doctor! Now!"

Chris reached over and buzzed for the nurse.

Well, that had been easier than he thought it would be. The doctor had no choice but to discharge him once he had quoted the law to him. Ezra grimaced at what the doctor had told him. A ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm. What was that when it was at home. The doctor had then gone on to explain that it was probably caused by an injury he may have received as a child. Had he any idea what that injury could have been. Ezra had almost laughed in the doctor’s face. Of course he knew. His chest had been crushed when he was eleven, then there was the fractured skull, various broken bones and internal bleeding. He had died, but the doctor’s were able to bring him back. He had been one lucky son-of-a-bitch the doctors told him.

Ezra bit his bottom lip when the cab braked suddenly in front of the ATF building and he tasted blood when his mouth began to fill with it. He handed over enough cash to pay the bill, there was no tip, the driver didn’t deserve it. The cab sped off before he even had a chance to fully exit from the vehicle. Ezra stumbled and nearly fell. His right arm held his stomach when the movement pulled at his stitches. Damn cab drivers.

A quick glance over his shoulder informed him that Chris Larabee was getting out of his car and walking towards him. The man never gave up. Ezra respected him even more for trying so hard but the man was wasting his efforts on someone who wasn’t worth the trouble.

"Ezra." Chris nodded at him.

"Would it be easier if I told you where I was going?" Ezra raised an eyebrow at the man who was now leaning against the wall of the ATF building

"I assume you’re going to empty your desk."

"After I speak to Travis." Ezra began to move towards the exit.

"To give him your resignation." Chris nodded as though he knew what Ezra was thinking. "He won’t accept it."

"He’s not going to have a choice."

Ezra just smiled at him then continued on his errand. He couldn’t resign until after he completed his assignment and that was to inform Travis of the man who could get Larabee out of his nasty predicament. Chris wouldn’t like it but Ezra didn’t care at the moment. The man deserved to keep his job.

The former undercover agent stepped through the doors and made his way to the elevator. His attempt to close the elevator doors failed when Larabee used his foot to keep them open.

"I don’t need you to hold my hand Larabee!" Ezra growled at him.

"No, but you need someone close in case you fall down, you feel the need to be ill, or if you just need a ride back to the hospital."

"Then perhaps you could push the button for me."

"Sure Ezra, not a problem."

Chris held Ezra’s arm firmly when the elevator jerked to a stop. To his surprise Ezra took the help that was offered. They stepped out of the elevator and walked slowly to the doors that led to Travis’ inner office.

"You want me to come in with you?"

"No, I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say to him." Ezra lowered his head then lifted his eyes to look at Chris. "Thank you for the opportunity Chris, but I can’t take it. This won’t work."

"How do you know unless you try Ezra."

"I’ve tried before Chris, it’s never worked, why should it change now."

"Because we’re different, we’d help you try, you won’t be working alone to make this work out for you."

"If only . . . " Ezra smiled. "Good bye Mr Larabee."

"I’ll wait for you."

"No need."

“I’ll wait,” Chris repeated then moved to one of the waiting chairs.

Ezra shook his head, the man was as stubborn as a mule. Ezra turned and walked into the office of doom, he was expecting to have his head chopped off. The Judge sat behind his desk, he was leaning back in his chair, his right hand held a piece of paper.

“What are you doing? You should be in hospital.” Travis stood up and walked around the table.

“There was an informer involved in the case, Larabee’s snitch. He saw everything and can give you the information you need. It will be enough to get him off the hook. Buck or Vin should know who he is. You might want to put him in protective custody then the witness protection program. Chris was going to take the responsibility because he thought his snitch would get killed.”

Ezra took a group of small breaths, the short speech had tired him.

“Good work Standish.”

“I haven’t had time to write my resignation so I will give it to you verbally.” Ezra stepped back when the Judge moved closer to him. “I quit.”

“All I need is your signature here.” Travis handed Ezra the form and reached for a pen.

“Somebody already wrote my resignation?” the Southerner frowned at him.

“It’s the paperwork for your permanent transfer.” the Judge nodded while he continued to look for a pen.

“But I don’t want a transfer . . . “ Ezra fell down into the chair that he had been leaning against since he stepped away from the man who stood before him.

“You don’t want to accept the best opportunity you’ve had in a long time?” it was Travis’ turn to frown in confusion.

“This isn’t an opportunity, it’s a chance of another mistake.”

“You’ve never made a mistake in your life Ezra, other people have, but for some reason you keep blaming yourself.”

“I blame myself because I have reason too.”

“That’s not true.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“You really want to know Ezra?”

“ . . . no.” Ezra hesitated with his answer.

“It’s not your fault that your FBI partner died, it was your Uncle who killed him.”

“He killed him because I hesitated, and he . . . “ Ezra’s eyes narrowed and glared at the Judge. “What do you know about my Uncle!”

“I know you can’t be blaming yourself for when he beat the shit out of you when you were eleven.” Travis sat on the edge of the desk and waited for Ezra’s reaction.

“I thought I knew you, I just couldn’t remember where.” Ezra rested his arms across his stomach.

“You don’t, do you?”

“What?” Ezra’s eyes searched the carpet for anything that would occupy his mind.

“Blame yourself for what your Uncle did to you.”

“I deserved it, I did something stupid, made a mistake that made him angry.” Ezra shrugged.

Travis couldn’t believe it, the young man actually thought what happened was an everyday occurrence.

“To put you in your room for the rest of the week, to not feed you that night, to even use a hand against your back side a few times but not kill you, and he did do that, you were lucky that the doctor’s were able to bring you back.”

Ezra had no idea how to respond to that.

“You staying or not, and I have to warn you that I won’t accept not.”

“There’s nothing here for me.” Ezra whispered.

“You have a permanent job but I want you to see a therapist first though and when he recommends that you’re ready for it, you can go back to being an undercover agent.”

“That’s not enough.”

“What more do you want?”

“It’s not that I want more, it’s just . . . they don’t trust me. I can handle them not liking me, I’ve had to put up with that all my life, but I don’t think I can work in a team again where the men don’t trust me.”

“You have to earn that trust Ezra.”

“I’m not on the take Judge, I never was.”

“I know that Ezra, so does Chris and the others. Did you ever hear them say anything about that particular subject.”

Ezra’s brow creased in thought. “No . . . I didn’t.”

“Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“I don’t know, everything’s just a fucking mess.” he rubbed his eyes with his right hand. His stomach hurt and he was beginning to feel ill.

“That’s why you need a permanent place to stay, a permanent job, and someone to talk to about everything that’s happened in the last six months. Most of all you need a group of men that you can invite to your home so you can watch some sort of sport and get drunk on beer and scotch.”

Ezra smiled at that thought, it was something he’d thought about on lonely Saturday afternoons.

“Sounds good doesn’t it?”

“I just told you about Chris’ informer, he’s not going to want to be near me when he finds out.”

“I told Team Seven about your Uncle and partner and why you’re really here.”

Ezra looked up in surprise. “Then they’ll definitely won’t want me here.”

“You’re not angry that I told them?”

“Not really, nice to have it out in the open. At least it gives them another reason to not want me here. It’ll make it so much easier to leave.” a hint of sarcasm filled Ezra’s tone.

“Why don’t we just ask Chris what he thinks.”

“I don’t know where he is.” Ezra lied.

“He’s outside waiting for you.” Travis smiled down at Ezra. “I’ll go and get him.”

Ezra’s stomached churned in fear. Chris wasn’t going to like this, he’d probably kill him just like he’d thought he would after a week into the case.

“Take a seat Chris.”

The sound of the door closing caused Ezra’s heart to skip a beat. He refused to look at Chris when the man sat in the chair next to him.

“He staying or what?” Chris slapped Ezra’s shoulder lightly.

“That depends on you Chris.” Travis sat in his own chair and rested his hands on the desk.

“I already said I wanted him to stay.”

“Ezra has given me the information I need to stop you from going to jail. Your informer will give me the rest.”

“Did he now?” Chris looked sideways at Ezra, who was refusing to look at him.

“Yes he did. Wanted to complete his job before he left.”

“Well, I was going to tell you anyway.”

Ezra blinked, then blinked again. He was going to tell him anyway.

“Can’t say I’m not angry about the entire situation though, but I accept it. Did some thinking after Ezra told me a few things, decided that he was right.”

Right. Did he just say I was right.

“So it’s settled then, Ezra’s staying.” Travis slammed his fist against the desk and produced the piece of paper he’d been holding earlier.

“I didn’t say I was staying.” Ezra reminded them.

“It’s not up to you.” Chris didn’t speak directly to Ezra. “We’re going to have to help him find a place to stay.”

“That may take time,” Travis smiled, “I get the impression he’s picky.”

“A house or unit?”

“Unit, a house will be too big.”

“He’s not ready to be on his own yet.” Chris glared at Ezra. “He should still be in the hospital.”

“Maybe someone can put up with him for a while?” Travis turned his eyes from Ezra to Chris.

“Nathan maybe, or Buck.”

“I don’t know about Buck, I mean he’s got young JD staying with him.”

“That’s okay because apparently Ezra and JD are having a sexual relationship.”

“I think I’ll leave it to you gentlemen to make the arrangements.” Ezra slowly stood up. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“Would you like to sign this before you go Ezra.”

“Chris, would you bring that with you. I just want to hang around with the others before I make my decision.”

“Sure, but you’re staying.”

“Whatever.” Ezra smiled then left the room.

Buck glanced up when he heard the elevator doors open, he was expecting Chris to be dragging Ezra in by the back of his shirt. He was surprised to find Ezra walking in on his own initiative. Something wasn’t right. He looked at the others and saw the same confusion and surprise written on their faces. Who was going to make the first move. Nathan, that’s the way, get in his face so he will run a mile in fear.

“Ezra, you know you should be in hospital.” Nathan cautioned him as he moved towards him.

“So people keep telling me Mr Jackson.” Ezra didn’t stop when the ex-medic stood in front of him, instead he stepped around him.

“Are you going back?”

“No, I don’t like hospitals.”

Nathan followed him, he wasn’t going to give. This man was now a part of the team and that meant that he fell under the medical guidance of the team’s mother hen.

“No one likes hospitals Ezra, it’s a well known fact.”

“I don’t like hospitals!” Ezra explained more firmly.

“Then you should be resting.”

Ezra reached his office and stood with his hand gripping the door handle. The knuckles were turning white. He glanced over his shoulder to find the rest of the team watching him.

“Is there any particular reason you are all standing there, hovering over me?”

“Waiting for you to fall down.” Vin smiled at him.

“That, I’m not going to do, so you may as well go away.”

“What are you going to do Ezra?” Buck moved to a closer position.

“I’m going to go into this office, collect my things and leave.”

“Leave as in?” Buck was now leaning against the door.

“Leave as in go away, depart, exit the building . . . “

“I thought you were staying.” JD piped up from behind the group.

“You thought wrong. Now if you will excuse me Mr Wilmington, I would like to gain access to this office.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t” the ladies man smiled at him.

Ezra knew there wasn’t a lot he could physically, not in the condition he was now in. “I would like to beat the shit out of you Wilmington, but I can’t right now. So, you are going to move out of my way because it’s the right thing to do.” Buck didn’t move. “Would you like me to explain what holding a person against their will is.”

“No one’s holding you Ezra.” Josiah spoke gently.

“Then tell him to move out of my way.”

Josiah nodded to Buck, who hesitated but did as he was told. “If he doesn’t want to be here Buck we can’t force him to stay.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“We want you to be here.” Josiah smiled at the shocked expression.

“Um . . . if you . . . um . . . if you will excuse me, I have . . . a . . . a desk to clean out.”

“Have you got somewhere to go, a place to stay?” Josiah moved into the position that Buck had vacated.

“I have my hotel room, that will give me time to think about what I’m going to do.”

“Your stuff’s at Chris’ place.” Vin stared at him.

“What?” Ezra finally turned around to face the group of men.

“Chris had me collect your stuff and fix up your bill for you. He was going to take you to his place when you were discharged from the hospital.”

“I want my stuff here in half an hour Mr Tanner, or I will report it as a theft.”

“Ezra, there’s no need to be like that.” Nathan scolded him.

“Why the hell not!” Ezra was angry now. How dare they treat him this way. “I didn’t ask him to do that, he didn’t have my permission. You people are acting like you own me. That I’m yours to do with what you want!”

“Just want to be your friends.” Vin told him.

“I don’t want friends. I don’t need friends. I don’t have any friends!”

“Then you’re going to have a very sad and lonely life Ezra Standish.”

“Will you just leave me the fuck alone!” Ezra snapped at them. “Get out of my way!”

Ezra opened the door and pushed his way past Josiah and stormed into his office and slammed the door behind him. He leant his back against the door and took a breath. He could feel the pain radiating out from his midsection. Ezra took the pain killers that the doctor had given from his pocket and two one dry. He wasn’t going to go back out there for water. Slow, short steps were taken until he reached the chair behind the desk. Ezra carefully sat down and lifted his legs onto the table with the help of his arms. He shifted forward until his head was resting on the back of the seat and closed his eyes. He would rest for a few minutes then pack his things and leave. They could send his things to him via a post office box address.

A soft knock at the door caused him to jump in surprise. A small grunt of pain escaped him.

“You okay in there Ezra?” Josiah’s strong voice came through the door easily.

“Piss off, I’m fine.”

“Let me know then if you need anything.”

“I need you to go away!” Ezra yelled.

“I’ll just be out here if you need anything.”

Ezra slammed the back of his head against the door. Won’t these people give up. He pushed himself up off the floor, if he didn’t hurry, Chris would arrive and then he’d never be allowed to leave. God forbid.

Luckily there wasn’t a lot of personal things in his desk. An address book that he didn’t want to leave behind. His pea shooter, that’s what he called the small gun that was usually strapped to his right ankle. A thought occurred to him; maybe he could use this gun if he became desperate. Ezra then removed a folder from the file cabinet. Only he knew of the files existence. He’d begun to gather every piece of information he could find in regard to his Uncle after his FBI partner’s death.

Another knock on the door - this one was a lot louder and more forceful - forced him to turn around. It was Chris, he knew it, the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him it was. He hadn’t been quick enough to escape Larabee’s clutches.

“Ezra . . . “ it was Chris, “open the door.”

“No.” he sounded childish when he wanted to sound confident. “I need a couple of minutes before I come out.”

“Two minutes, then I’m coming in.”

Ezra could see him standing out there, his eyes trying to glare at him through the door, his arms crossed and his foot tapping softly against the carpeted floor.

What the hell was he going to do now. He’d lost, like he always lost. There was nothing left to do but to go out there and take his punishment like a man. Ezra walked slowly to the door and opened it. Chris was standing, facing the door, with his arms across his chest.

“Mr Larabee.” Ezra glanced at him then looked at the floor. He felt like his was a ten year old child again.

“I thought you were staying?”

“Excuse me, but I don’t remember saying that I was going to stay.”

“You signed the paperwork Ezra!” Chris growled at him then noticed when Ezra flinched away from him.

“If you look at the signature and compare it to mine, you’ll find that it’s a forgery. It won’t stand up in a court.”

“You want to leave?”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing I can say that will make you stay?”

“No.”

“Good bye Ezra, have a nice life.” Chris walked away without another word.

Ezra stared at his retreating form in confusion. What just happened here? The man was letting him go. A man who had for some reason decided to tie him to his apron strings was allowing him to leave. Ezra didn’t think twice, he left.

“What are you going to do?” Vin asked Chris when his boss sat down in his chair.

“Nothing.” Chris leaned back and looked at his friend. “I can’t make him stay Vin.”

“You don’t want to keep talking to him, maybe convince him to stay?”

“I’ve talked myself out, I can’t think of anything else to say to him.”

“Maybe if we all talked to him.” Vin suggested.

“And how are we going to do that, he’s gone Vin, we won’t be able to find him and there’s no way I’m going to ask a favour and have the police put an APB out on him.”

“I know where he’s going.” Vin smiled smugly.

“Where?” Chris stood up.

“Your place.”

“My place.”

“His things are there remember.”

“He can’t get in.”

“Some how I get the impression that he can.”

“I don’t know Vin, he hasn’t listened so far, what makes you think he’ll listen now.”

“I don’t but don’t you think he’s worth one more try?”

“Yeah, but I think you guys should do all the talking.”

“I’ll get the guys together.”

Instinct caused him to look over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching him. He smiled at his stupidity. Larabee’s house - log cabin more like it - was situated in the middle of a dense rain forest. To Ezra it was a dense rain forest, he wasn’t an outdoor’s man. He would consider four trees to be a forest, ten trees to be a jungle, any more than that was a dense rain forest.

The long stretch of dirt track curved and disappeared behind the trees, he wouldn’t see a car coming until it was practically on top of him. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t expecting anyone. Larabee allowed him to leave, he wouldn’t be coming after him, not now, not ever.

Ezra felt a tinge of regret and brushed it off as a side effect of his medication. There was no real regret, he didn’t want to stay. These men didn’t trust him. If he stayed, it would just be like all the other times when he thought he would be able to stay in one place for more than six months.

His feet carried him to the front door and he pulled out his wallet; he’d always kept a spare pick locking set in there. It only took a matter of seconds before he was able to push the thick wooden door open. He stepped into the interior and searched the large entry way. He had no idea where they would have put his bag. A search of the bedrooms was his first choice, after that he would have to make a more thorough search.

The main bedroom was a failure but young Adam’s room was a success. His bag was sitting in the corner of the room that was close to the set of drawers. He quickly retrieved it and began to make his way to the front door.

He closed it behind him and ran down the steps, he regretted it immediately. The bouncing movement caused the pain to erupt in his abdomen. His body bent over which made the pain even worse. Ezra turned around and moved to the large railing that surrounded the verandah that made it’s way around the house. He straightened and leaned against it. The change of position helped but the original pain was still there. He gripped the railing tightly and tried to wait it out.

Ezra was so involved with the pain that he didn’t hear the cars pull to a stop behind him, he didn’t hear the car doors open then close. His name was called but he didn’t hear the voice. The pain was becoming too much.

“Ezra . . . you okay?” Nathan stepped up beside him and reached out to him.

The ex-medic could see the grimace of pain that included eyes that were tightly closed, teeth that were clenched and the sweat that was forming on the forehead and upper lip.

“Ezra, let’s get you inside so I can check you over.” Nathan tried to pry Ezra’s fingers from the railing but it was difficult.

“No . . . I’ll be fine in a minute.

Nathan frowned, the Southerner wasn’t even surprised that they were here with him.

“You’re better off inside, it’s getting cold out here.” Nathan gripped Ezra’s shoulder with his left hand and placed his right arm around his shoulders.

“Are you doing this because you’ve been given orders.”

Nathan flinched at the remark. “No, I care . . .”

“You only care because you know what happened to me, and it’s not caring, it’s fucking pity!” Ezra bent and placed an arm around his stomach. “Aw shit it hurts!”

“Josiah, can you help me get him inside.”

“Do you want to walk Ezra, or do you want to be carried in?” Josiah looked into the pain filled features of the undercover agent.

“I’ll walk . . . “

Ezra only took two steps then his legs began to buckle under the pain. Josiah easily picked him up and began to carry him into the cabin.

“Put me down!” Ezra growled through gritted teeth.

“Not until you’re inside and on a bed Ezra.”

“I’m not a child, I am capable of walking on my . . . OW, watch were you’re going damnit! I hurt enough as it is.”

“What was that you said about not being a child.” Josiah stood in front of the door and waited for Chris to open it. Once he had access he went straight to Adam’s room and placed Ezra on the bed. He immediately put out a restraining hand when Ezra tried to sit up.

Josiah then began to undo Ezra’s shirt. He found it difficult to do because of the shaking hands that were insisting that he stop.

“Ezra!” Josiah growled down at him. “I’m just trying to help you, you stubborn bastard!”

“The last person who called me a stubborn bastard proceeded to beat the living daylights out of me. Are you going to do that as well.”

“I’m not your Uncle Ezra, and I don’t care what you say to me, I’m going to give you my help whether you want it or not.”

“I don’t want your help,” Ezra choked on his emotions, “why can’t you understand that.”

“How’s he doing?” Nathan walked into the room, his bag in his hand.

“I’m doing fine!” Ezra snapped.

“Has the pain eased at all?” Nathan sat on the side of the bed and began to examine Ezra’s abdomen.

“I feel fine.”

Nathan pressed against the surgical wound and was rewarded with a cry of pain.

“This is why you should have stayed at the hospital Ezra, you need to rest for at least a week, if you keep going like this you’re going to end up back there and you won’t have a choice in the matter.”

“I’ll rest when I get where I’m going.”

“You’ll rest here, or you rest in the hospital.” Nathan waited for an answer but he didn’t get one. “I’m not the enemy here Ezra, I’m giving you a choice. You can rest here, if you don’t then you’re going to end up in the hospital and I know you don’t want to go there. “ he paused for a moment. “Do you?”

“No.” Ezra whispered.

“Then you’ll stay here?”

“What will happen if I don’t?”

“I told you Ezra . . . “

“I know what you told me Mr Jackson, I want to know what will happen to put me in hospital.

“I’m not going to give you a medical list Ezra, you’ve got enough sense to know what will happen. All I’m going to tell you is that you need to rest. I want you to stay in bed for at least another three days, then light physical activity for a couple of days, then you can go.”

“Five days.”

“That’s all Ezra, five days, you should feel a lot better by then.” Nathan explained.

“Five days.”

“Yes.”

“Five days.”

“I’ll take that as a yes you’ll stay.”

“I don’t want to go back to the hospital.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Nathan smiled. “When did you last take your pain medication?”

“Back at the office, I took one.”

“Where’s the medication.”

Ezra lifted a hand and pointed to Chris’ coat jacket.

“Have you been taking them when you’re supposed to?”

“Mr Jackson, it’s only been a couple of hours since I left the hospital, there hasn’t been time to take one every four hours.”

“You take one if you need it Ezra!”

“I did,” Ezra retorted, “I just told you that’d I’d taken one.”

“Well, you need to take another one.” Nathan smiled down at him.

Ezra glanced at Josiah. “Is this what it’s going to be like for the next five days?”

“If you do exactly as you’re told, you don’t answer back, and you don’t do anything you’re not supposed to do, then,” Josiah shrugged, “it won’t be that bad.”

“You could go back to the hospital if you want.” Nathan warned him.

Ezra growled, showing his white teeth at Nathan.

“That doesn’t scare me Ezra, I’ve taken care of worse patients than you.”

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” Josiah muttered under his breath.

The two men changed the direction of their stubborn glares.

“How is he?” Chris asked when Nathan and Josiah left his son’s room.

“He’s in pain.” Nathan explained.

“Nathan!”

“He’s been doing to much, stretching his stomach, pulling the stitches and incision, that sort of thing, he’ll be fine after a few days rest.” Nathan slumped into the large chair in front of the fire. It was going to be a long five days for both patient and ex-medic.

“When can we talk to him?” Vin asked as he walked into the living area with a tray of mugs full of steaming coffee.

“I’d give him a couple of days, his mood is also as bad as the pain he’s feeling.”

“I don’t know how you’re going to talk him into staying.” Buck shook his head and took one of the offered mugs.

“That’s Vin’s area. I can’t think of anything else to say to him.” Chris told the group.

“Do we want him to stay?” JD asked. He saw the expressions that were sent his way. “I mean before this happened, only Chris and Vin liked him, the rest of us thought he was an asshole that didn’t belong.”

“Never judge a book by it’s cover.” Josiah quoted. “We didn’t try and open the book to see what’s inside.”

“He’s not going to open up anyway, not for a while at least.” Chris took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. For some reason, Vin liked it strong, too strong as far as Chris was concerned. “When are you going to learn to make a decent pot of coffee?”

“I make a great pot of coffee.” Vin protested. “When are you going to learn how to appreciate a fine cup of coffee.”

“When I drink one that tastes good.”

“Last time I make coffee for you.”

“Uh Chris.” Buck gave him a worried look, “you still haven’t answered my question about being gay.”

“First Ezra and now you!” JD’s mouth dropped open.

“I’m not gay JD and neither is Ezra!” Chris growled at him.

“But Buck just said . . . and at the meeting . . . Ezra said he’d told the Judge that . . . “ JD stumbled through the words.

“He was being an asshole JD,” Chris tried to remind him.

“Oh, so he isn’t,”

Chris shook his head.

“And you’re not.”

“No!”

“Oh.”

“I really don’t know where you get your ideas from JD.” Buck nudged him with an elbow.

“You just said.”

“No I didn’t, I asked if he was, there’s a difference you know.”

“So, are you?” Vin leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“I’m going for a walk before I shoot someone.” Chris muttered then stormed out of the room.

Ezra woke feeling better than he had in days; well physically anyway, emotionally he had no idea. He stretched his legs under the thick blankets and sighed when he realised he wouldn’t be able to do the same with his upper body. He opened his eyes and squinted at the sun that shone through the window. Judging by it’s position, he decided that it was at least mid-day. Lunch time and he was actually feeling hungry. He didn’t want to leave the warm, comfortable bed, not yet anyway. He’d wait a bit longer then get up. Ezra rolled back onto his side and snuggled down into the pillow. Just when he was about to fall back to sleep, a soft knock at the door caused him to open his eyes.

The door opened and Nathan stepped into the room. He was carrying a tray of food. Ezra couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sight of a huge salad chicken sandwich.

“I take it you’re hungry.” Nathan returned the smile.

“Starving Mr Jackson.” Ezra pushed himself up into a sitting position and allowed Nathan to place the tray over his legs.

“Enjoy,” Nathan told him, “I’ll come back later to get the leftovers. There’s also another pain killer there if you need it, if not just leave on it the night stand until later.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” That was all Nathan was going to say, if he said anything more, he’d probably ruin it for both of them. Ezra was in a good mood and he wasn’t going to spoil it.

The next two days were spent in much the same way. Ezra slept when he was able to, someone brought him food which he ate it. In between, when he had the strength, he would shower and shave. No one tried to talk to him during that time in regards to staying with the team. They didn’t want him to get up leave, not when he still wasn’t one hundred percent, although that would still take a few weeks.

On the fourth day, he was able to leave the bed and walk out into the chill of the fresh air. Nathan had fussed over him, making sure that he wore a thick coat and didn’t stay out to long. The evening was spent in front of a roaring fire, a mug of hot chocolate with marshmellows in his hand - that had been JD’s idea - listening to the group of men talk about the last fishing trip they had taken. Ezra didn’t know if he would like fishing on not. It seemed to be a calming sport but also boring at the same time.

The antics the men had gotten up to on that particular trip made his smile. But he wouldn’t fit into that group, he didn’t know how to have fun. Yes he had a sarcastic wit and could easily hold his own against anyone when it came to throwing one liners, but to actually mix with a group of men and take part in an enjoyable activity without resorting to one liners, he couldn’t do that.

The fifth day was different. It started out the same as the fourth but Ezra could feel the tension that began to fill the house. This was his last day, he would be leaving in the morning and he was sure they were going to try and talk him into staying. He didn’t want to take part in any sort of discussion that involved that particular topic.

Ezra was sitting on the front steps, searching for the easist car to jump start so he could make a quick get away if he needed to. He didn’t know if they were going to physically restrain him or allow him to leave. These men seemed to be full of surprises, he never knew what they were going to do from one minute to the next.

His shoulders tightened when he heard the front door open, and the steps that told him two people were about to sit next to him. He knew who it was without looking at them. Vin Tanner sat down at his left and Josiah Sanchez sat on his right.

“I’m not staying and I don’t want to discuss it.” Ezra told them before they could even start.

“Not even a little bit?” Vin questioned him.

“Not even a little bit Mr Tanner.” Ezra glared sideways at him. “One word and I walk.”

Ezra was prepared to leave when he was ready. His bag was close by, there was enough money in there for a bus ticket to anywhere. All he needed was the transport to get back to town. If he wasn’t able to steal a car, he’d walk, simple as that.

“You enjoying the weather Ezra?” Josiah asked him.

“Beautiful Mr Sanchez.”

“It’s always like this before winter, a chill in the air, but not enough to stop a person from sitting out here and enjoying it.”

“I’m sure.”

“Summer get pretty warm though, but the lake is enough to cool you down, follow that with a couple of cold beers and the fish of the day. Perfect way to spend a summer evening. You should try it sometime Ezra, you’d like it.”

“I don’t believe I would.”

“How would you know unless you tried it.”

“I’ve tried it, I didn’t like it.”

“You haven’t tried it with us Ezra.”

“Excuse me Mr Sanchez, but I think it’s time I leave.”

“Ezra!”

“Vin, would you like to give me a lift into town, or would you prefer that I walk.” Ezra stood up and looked down at the sharp shooter.

“Ezra, I . . . “

“Fine, I’ll walk, it’s a nice day for a long walk anyway. No doubt I would be able to hitch a ride once I reach the main road.”

“Ezra . . . why can’t you see sense.” Vin stood up and followed the Southerner into the house.

“I’m not blind Mr Tanner.” Ezra reached down and picked up the bag that sat near the front door, he turned to find Vin standing in front of him. “We’re not going to go through this again are we.”

“No Ezra we’re not, but just let me say this. You are a fucking idiot. If you’re not blind you should be able to see what you could have here. A job, a place to call home, but most important, friends. Friends that are willing to care about you. We’re trying to help you Ezra and all you can do is throw it back in our faces. Now I understand why you don’t have any friends, it’s got nothing to do with anyone else, it’s all you. You’re the problem and I’ve just decided that if this is what you’re really like then I don’t wany any part of you.” Vin stood to the side. “Go on then, piss off, we’ll probably be better off without you anyway. You’re selfish Ezra and you’re going to rot in hell and die alone.”

Ezra smiled on the outside but on the inside he’d felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

“Good bye Mr Tanner.”

Ezra walked out the door. He didn’t glance at Josiah or say a word to him. His movements were slow as he walked down the steps but they quickened once he reached the dirt track that would take him away from these men.

Ezra had only walked four miles and he could already feel the sweat that had soaked into his shirt. His wound ached, much like it had four days ago. This wasn’t the light physical activity that Nathan was talking about. Blisters on the soles of his feet burned themselves into his brain - the shoes he was wearing were not made for walking, they didn’t exactly fit very well. He wasn’t going to make it, it was something he had realised two miles back. Either he turned around or he kept going until he collapsed. He decided on the latter, he wasn’t going to swallow his pride and go back there, especially after what Vin had said to him.

His body froze when he heard a car engine, they were coming after him, to drag him back. He wasn’t going, he’d fight them to the death if he had to. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and cursed at the sight that was coming towards him. Chris Larabee in his black dodge. Ezra began walking again. He was in the middle of the road and had no intention of moving over. Chris wasn’t going to pass him, he was going to pull up beside him and demand that he get in the car so he could take him back to the cabin.

Ezra stayed calm, even when he could feel the engines warm breath against his legs. It didn’t even occur to him that Chris might accidentally hit him from behind. The man wasn’t that desperate anyway.

“Ezra!”

He wasn’t going to answer, if he answered, it meant that he was going to have to look at him.

“I’m not going to ask you to come back!” Chris yelled over the engine. “Just thought it would be easier for you if you got a ride to where ever it is you’re going.”

The Southerner stopped again and waited for the touch of the bumper as it softly hit the back of his legs. It didn’t happen. He walked around the front of the car and got into the passenger side.

“Where do you want to go?”

“The airport.”

Chris nodded and drove on.

Silence filled the vehicle when each man refused to start up a conversation. Chris knew it was useless to even try. Ezra was a stubborn bastard that refused to give into what he really wanted out of life. Chris wasn’t sure if Ezra couldn’t or wouldn’t trust them, he supposed it could have been a bit of both. Ezra didn’t want to talk for fear of the conversation turning towards the idea of him staying.

Ezra watched the scenery pass by. The city of Denver was more or less like any other city he’d been to. Every city had something different, but the streets, the buildings, the people and the attitudes were the same. He glanced at Chris when he pretended to look at something on the other side of the highway. The man looked . . . well . . . he looked as though he no longer cared. Ezra quickly turned away. Isn’t that what he wanted. Yes it was he told himself. It would make the departure from this vehicle easier. There would be no goodbyes, just continued silence.

The time it took to get to the airport was longer than Ezra had thought it would be. When Chris parked the vehicle in the no parking zone Ezra hesitated for a moment. There was still only silence like he thought there would be, but now it was an uncomfortable silence. He felt he should say goodbye, thank Chris for what he had done for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do. Ezra waited for Chris to say something but Larabee was staring out the window.

Ezra looked down at his hands then grabbed his bag and got of the car. Without a backward glance he walked away and stepped through the automatic doors into the airport. He wanted to find a hiding place and watch Chris drive away but there wasn’t anything big enough to hide him. If Chris saw him looking he might think that he wanted to stay. Ezra kept moving until he reached the line for domestic flights. He wasn’t sure where he was going yet, he’d make up his mind when he reached the counter.

Washington. Where in the hell did he get the idea to go to Washington. What sort of place was Washington. Like he was going to be able to get work there. But then again he could become a politician, he certainly knew how to lie, how to be cold and not care about what people wanted. Or he could just go back to what his mother had taught him all through his childhood. Con, cheat and gamble. ‘Look after number one Ezra, no one else, not even your mother.’ That’s what she always told him. It took a few years for him to realise that she consider herself number one, and that meant that if she had to choose between herself and her son, her son would lose. But then again his mother had always thought of herself first.

Ezra sat in the coffee lounge drinking a warm cup of coffee. His flight wasn’t due to depart for another hour. He looked at the clock on the wall. Another fifty eight minutes and fourteen . . . fifteen seconds. A pain killer, that’s what he needed, something to make him feel numb.

The words that Vin had said to him with so much anger become to nag him. Tanner had actually told him. ‘You’re selfish Ezra and you’re going to rot in hell and die alone.’ He didn’t want to die alone. He had lived alone all his life so far. Did he want to continue to live alone. Did he really want to die alone. If there was life after death, he’d probably exist alone there as well. He rubbed his tired face with his hand. He was so sick of his life. Nothing had ever gone right.

Larabee offered him everything he had ever wanted. Why was it so hard for him to take it, even if he took only a small part of the new life offered to him a bit at a time. He didn’t have to rush into and he was sure they wouldn’t push him into taking it all at once. The fact that Chris was no longer pushing him proved that. Vin had also given up on him.

‘Now I understand why you don’t have any friends, it’s got nothing to do with anyone else, it’s all you.’ That wasn’t all true. There were times when he wanted and accepted friendship but his mother always tore him from it, leaving him crying in pit of loneliness that he had been thrown back into. It wasn’t until later in life that he no longer wanted friends.

‘You’re the problem and I’ve just decided that if this is what you’re really like then I don’t any part of you.’ He was this way for a reason. He no longer wanted to be hurt, he’d suffered to much already. But wasn’t he suffering now. Wasn’t loneliness worse that being around a group of men that wanted to be his friends. Did he want to accept that friendship and offer them his own.

‘We’ll probably be better off without you anyway.’ Vin was right there. They would be better off without him, but would he be better off without them. He was talking about six men, not one or two but six. Was he willing to throw himself into the deep end.

There was also the job. A job that had become his life. He could have it all back. A list, he could write up a list of conditions and if they attempt something that they’re not supposed to, he could leave again. It would be easy enough. Ezra smiled, it all sounded easy, actually doing it was the hard part. The clock told him he still had thirty two minutes and ten seconds until his flight was going to be called. He grabbed a napkin and took a pen from his bag and began to write.

When he had finished the list of conditions he checked the time. Five minutes, he had to make a decision that could changed his life in five minutes. That was the point though wasn’t it. He wanted to change his life. Damn it! He grabbed his bag and stormed away from the counter. What did he have to lose anyway, it couldn’t be any worse that any other time he had stayed.

He needed a taxi, he also didn’t have the cash to pay for one that would take him back to Chris’ ranch. He didn’t really have to go that far, a hotel would be fine and he could show up at the office tomorrow for his first day of his new permanent position. That sounded good. Then he remembered the shrink. Ezra supposed he could wait a couple of weeks, settle in and if knew that he was going to stay longer then he would agree to talking to someone.

Ezra felt the doors close behind him. He was about to search for a taxi but saw something that made him smile in admiration. This was it, now or never. Ezra stepped forward, tore the parking ticket off the dodge’s windscreen and hopped into the passenger seat.

“Not one word Mr Larabee, we will discuss this over a good meal and a cold beer.”

“Whatever you say Ezra.” Chris smiled widely. Something had told him that Ezra wasn’t going to leave. He decided he would wait a few hours and see what happens. A parking ticket is what happened. Even his badge didn’t get him out of it, but the Judge would.

“That was four words Mr Larabee.” Ezra put his sunglasses on and leaned back in the seat. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Wait until they saw the list of conditions.

“What do you mean no social activities for at three months?” Buck asked through a mouthful of pizza.

“It means that I don’t plan on being socialble for a while.” Ezra explained.

“Why not?”

“Well so far, I know that you fish, that’s all. I’m not going to commit myself until I know what you like to do.”

“You can’t fish Ezra, or you don’t know how to.” Vin smiled and nudged Buck who choked on his pizza.

“You put a worm on a hook, throw it in the water, a fish comes along and bites it, the hook goes through it’s mouth and then you pull it in. Now, how easy can that be.”

“Who guts it and cooks it?” Buck leaned forward.

“Uh, don’t they come that way when you catch them.” Ezra’s face wore an expression of pure innocence.

“What about video games Ez, I like . . . “ JD started.

“Mr Larabee, can you read condition number three please.” Ezra asked him.

“No nicknames or shortening of the first or last name.” Chris read then glanced up at Ezra. The man had obviously thought about this.

“Mr Dunne, you had to have studied enough English at school to know how to pronounce two syllables.”

“Of course I did.” JD protested.

“You also want to stay in a hotel until you find your own place.” Chris read the next condition.

“That’s correct.”

“Here’s one for Buck and Vin.” Chris couldn’t help but chuckle. Ezra was going to fit in better than he would have expected. “No practical jokes until the sixth month of employment.”

“You like practical jokes Ezra?” Buck’s mouth dropped open.

“I’m one of the best Mr Wilmington.”

“Second best,” Vin corrected him, “I’m the best.”

“No you’re not,” Buck growled, “I am.”

“I am.” Vin continued to argue.

“Who was the one that replaced the suger with salt . . . oh shit.” Buck crouched further down into his chair.

“That was you!” Chris glared at his long time friend.

“Number five is the most important of the conditions, if you do not agree to it then, well, I’m going to have to leave.”

“Again.” Nathan snorted.

Ezra glared at him, it was an expression that they would become very familiar with.

“You won’t start work until nine in the morning.” Chris thought it was laughable.

“Yes, I need my beauty sleep.”

“We usually start at seven, earlier if we’re on a case.”

“WHAT!” it was Ezra’s turn to choke on his beer. “You can’t be serious.”

“Very serious Ezra.”

“Thank God I put that condition in.”

Chris narrowed his eyes then continued to read the conditions. “Own office, works alone, ATF pays for any damage to clothes, no discussion about your past, won’t take part in menial labour, you have a right to call everyone Mr.”

“You’re not going a bit far here are you Ezra?”

“It’s my life I’m playing with Mr Larabee, I want to do it my way or no way. I can’t rush into it.”

Chris nodded.

“Buck can’t be allowed to make the coffee . . . “

“There is nothing wrong with my fucking coffee!” Buck growled.

“They all seem reasonable.” Chris shrugged. “Except the nine am start.”

“I will not give in on that one Mr Larabee.”

“Eight.”

“Eight thirty.”

“Eight fifteen.

“Nine fifteen.

“That’s not the way you do it son.” Josiah smiled at him.

Ezra grabbed the napkin and scribbled on it. He shoved it into Chris’ face.

Chris raised his eyebrows and looked at Ezra then Josiah. “If anyone calls me son, they will be knocked flat on their back and will continue to stay there for at least a week.”

“Back to the comprise.” Ezra turned back to Chris.

“Uh, eight thirty.” Chris stumbled.

“Nine thirty.”

“Ezra!” Buck warned him.

“Listen and learn Mr Wilmington.”

“Seven.” Chris growled and leaned forward in his chair.

“Nine.”

“Done.”

Ezra toasted to the agreement.

“I want to start at nine as well.” JD told Chris.

“Excuse me.”

“Seven’s fine.” JD hunched over his beer.

“Do I have to sign this Ezra?” Chris eyed him with caution.

“All of you do.”

“And what do you sign?” Vin asked him.

“My transfer papers.”

“Done.” Chris agreed again then handed the napkin around for everyone to sign.

“Welcome aboard Ezra, you start on Monday.”

“Thank you.”

“We realise you’ve made a big decision here Ezra,” Josiah explained what they were all thinking, “and we’re not going to let you down.”

“I’m taking one more chance with my life Mr Sanchez so you better not. None of you will.”

“None of us will Ezra.” Chris assured him. “None of us will let you down.”

The End

To be continued in the next episode