Its Nothing....Really
By Gypsy
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me,
yadda, yadda, yadda. The characters are based on those created by John Watson,
and the always wonderful Mog created this little universe and allows us to play
in it. I make no money, and have none to pay anyone else either. This is for
the pure joy of it.
Notes: Wrote this today at work. Ok, yeah, I WAS supposed to be working,
what's it to ya? When the muse strikes, you do not ignore it. It could be very
dangerous. This is my first post on the
fic list, although not by any means my first Mag7 fic. It IS my first ATF fic, though.
I fell down this morning while
dressing. Most embarrassing. Glad no one saw it. I hurt for most of the day, so
I decided to take my frustrations out on Ezra. Believe me, he'll hurt worse. (I
love him. I really, really do. Its just a very addictive hobby of mine to do
this to him.)
AU: ATF/AU
Rating: R (for language)
Warnings: I'm not a medical expert. If
some things in here do not ring true, blame ignorance. Also, this is not
betaed. Any spelling mistakes and/or general bad grammar should be taken in
stride.
_____________________________
Outwardly, nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
The single breasted suit was perfectly pressed, and hung on his body as if it
had been designed with him specifically in mind. The friendly, easy going smile
that he flashed to others as he passed
them was the same one that greeted them each day. He seemed confident,
self-assured, and well put together.
Of course, that was unless someone bothered to
look too closely.
An almost unnoticeable wince crossed his features
from time to time, but was gone again before anyone could see. The pain had
been bothering him since early in the morning. A sharp, very annoying pain that
seemed to come from his side. He wondered what he could have done to injure himself
in such a place. He couldn't remember doing anything that would be considered
strenuous.
Then there was the fact that he felt nauseous, he
had a headache, and he was more tired then he could ever remember being before
in his life. But he was not sick. He couldn't be. He, Ezra Standish, did not, and would not get sick. He had decided
upon that long ago when his mother would push him aside if he even got so much
as a sniffle. Maude didn't like sick people, and Ezra got so little of her
attention as it was. So he ignored every ache and pain, every cough and sneeze,
and hid them all behind the calm, cool exterior that Chris always liked to refer
to as his 'poker face'.
And he was good at it, too.
The difference this time was that now he had six
friends, co-workers, whose eyes' missed very little.
"Ezra? What's wrong? You look tired."
Ezra shot a look at Buck that could have frozen
the steaming mug of coffee that he held in his hands.
"Thank you ever so much for your astute
observation, Mr. Wilmington."
"Ah, and cranky too. Guess you didn't get
much sleep last night, did you?" Buck grinned at him. He was used to Ezra
in the mornings. The undercover agent was usually in a foul mood in the early
hours of the day.
"Hey Buck, here's that file you where looking
for." Nathan handed him a manila folder, then turned his gaze to Ezra,
noticing his blood shot eyes. "Geez. Late night, Ezra?"
"No" was all he said before walking away
toward his own office. It had not been a late night. In fact it had been quite
the opposite. Ezra, who was normally a late to bed, drag his ass out of bed in
the morning type of person, had gone to bed around 10pm the night before. He
had felt so rundown, and could honestly not keep his eyes open.
And he still had to forcefully drag himself from
the comfort of his warm bed.
He just wasn't a morning person. Never had been,
never would be. That was all.
Yes, of course. That was all. Now all he had to do
was convince everyone else of that.
"Ahh." Ezra couldn't keep the cry of
pain from escaping his mouth as he felt his body collide with that of another.
"Sorry, Ez. Wasn't looking. You ok?" The
young face of JD looked up at him.
Ezra sighed. What was it going to take? "I'm
fine. I was only surprised by the force of you knocking me over. May I ask,
'where is the fire'?"
"Oh, I got to get his report to Chris before
he brings down his wrath on me. You sure your ok? You look kinda pale."
"Nothing to worry about, I assure you. Go on,
before Mr. Larabee blows a blood vessel waiting for you." He walked into
his office, ignoring the concerned look that JD gave him. He did not want to
answer anymore questions about his health. His health was fine, never been
better. He felt like a freakin' 20 year old for christ's sake! What was so hard
about accepting that?
"God damn!" He swore, as the sharp pain
spread its way across his side.
He gripped the back of his chair to keep from
falling to the floor in agony. What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe he
should see a doctor, just to prove that there was really nothing wrong with
him.
And there was nothing wrong. It was just a freak,
phantom pain that had decided to haunt him on this day.
The knock on his open door brought his head up,
and he straightened his back as much as he could without bringing on another
pain attack. Vin stood in the door way, watching him concerned eyes.
"Ezra, are you......"
"For God's sake, I am perfectly fine. What is
everyone's problem with that!" Ezra's hand gripped the chair back so
tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
"I'm sorry, pard. You just don't look, well....,
like you." Vin put a hand on his arm, and reached his other up to touch
Ezra's forehead.
Ezra jerked his head away, but Vin had already
felt the warmness that his skin held. "Ezra, maybe you should go home. You
got a fever."
"I don't have a fever, and I don't need to go
home. Why can't you all just leave me the hell alone?"
"What is going on in here?" Chris
stepped into the room at the sound of Ezra's raised voice. He looked from Vin to
Ezra, and saw that Ezra did not look good at all. His face was covered with a
sheen of sweat, and he appeared to be breathing too hard.
"Ezra's sick," Vin said, "and he
won't admit to it."
Chris came closer to the stubborn young agent, and
looked closely at him. "I think he's right. Go home. Now. You're not going
to be any good in this condition."
The pain was becoming too intense. It was
everything he could do not to cry out from it. "I don't have a 'condition'.
I'll be fine if you would just go away."
"Ezra, don't be such a gole damned stubborned
ass," Vin said, picking up Ezra's discarded coat. "Come on, I'll take
you home. I don't think you should even be driving like this."
"As if a ride in that prehistoric dinosaur
you call a automobile is going to be good for my health," Ezra said,
shrugging off the coat that Vin had draped across his shoulders. "Quit
treating me like I'm some child. I am more then capable of taking care of
myself."
"Well, you sure wouldn't know it." Chris
went back to the door and called out to Nathan. Maybe the most medically
intelligent of them all could talk some sense into him.
"Listen," Ezra said, taking a deep breath
to keep the pain out of his voice, "If it makes you happy, I'll go home. But
it's not necessary."
Nathan entered the room and immediately knew what
the situation was. Ezra looked as if he
was about to pass out. He quickly crossed the room, and felt Ezra's warm
forehead. Too warm.
"How long have you felt like this?" he
asked.
Ezra was about to say that he didn't know what
Nathan meant. He felt fine. But he knew they would not accept this, and
besides, he did feel bad. More then bad.
"Since early last night," he admitted.
Nathan shook his head in exasperation. "Ezra,
sometimes I don't know why I bother with you. Come on, sit down." He
pushed the other man down into the chair, and did not miss the grimace of pain
that crossed Ezra's face as he sat. "Ezra, I want you to be honest with
me. Are you in pain?"
Ezra nodded, no longer caring that they knew, only
that the pain stop.
"Ok, I'm going to touch a few spots on your
stomach. I want you to tell me what hurts." Nathan began to move his hand
over Ezra's stomach, pressing in slightly here and there, and watching Ezra's
face for reaction. He touched the spot below the stomach, and Ezra sharply took
in a breath. "There? It hurts there?"
"Yes, it hurts there! Fuck it, it hurts!"
Ezra's eyes watered as he leaned forward to stop Nathan's touch. "Please,
don't do that again."
"Ok. Ok, I won't." Nathan turned to the other
two men in the room, and gave them a look that said exactly what a serious
situation it was. "I don't think Ezra should go home. I think he should go
to the hospital."
The mention of that accursed word, 'hospital',
made Ezra snap his head back up. "No. I don't need a hospital. Nathan,
can't you just give me one of those herbal remedies of yours?" The look in
his eyes was heartbreaking. He seemed no more then a small, and very scared
child.
The handsome black man shook his head.
"Uh-uh, Ez. You're going to the hospital, and you're going now. I think
your appendix is about to burst."
"Shit." Chris swore, and went over to his
agent, putting a strong arm around his waist, careful not to harm him.
"Come on, *I'M* taking you to the hospital whether you like it or
not."
Ezra moved from Chris's touch. "I can walk by
myself," he said, but took one step and fell forward. Vin and Nathan
rushed to him, catching him before he hit the ground. "Oh, dear GOD,"
he moaned in painful agony, and tried to curl himself into a ball on the floor
of his office.
"Maybe we should call an ambulance," Vin
said, trying to drag Ezra into his arms. He hated seeing his friend in this kind
of pain, and felt his eyes begin to water in sympathy.
"We don't have the time to wait for it"
Nathan said. "I think the appendix just burst. We got to get him there
now!"
Chris moved into action. "I'll get my keys, we'll
take him in my car. Vin, go get Josiah."
"No need." The large man came into the
office, as if he had known somehow that the younger agent needed him. He bent
down and effortlessly lifted Ezra into his arms. Ezra gave no protest, and
leaned his head against Josiah's shoulder, closing his eyes from exhaustion and
pain.
Carrying Ezra from the office, Josiah headed for
the elevators, followed by Nathan, Chris, and Vin.
Buck looked up to see the strange happening, and
felt his own face grow pale at the sight of Ezra lying limply in Josiah's arms.
He grabbed the arm of the passing JD, and dragged him with him. "Come one,
kid. Looks like we got an emergency."
All seven men crowded into the small elevator. Six
pairs of eyes where trained on one whose eyes where shut. He was one of them,
and he was sick. What hurt him, hurt them. None of them would leave his side
till that hurt was gone.
_________________________
The hospital staff was used to the sight of six
men pacing the hallways, drinking coffee in the cafeteria, or just generally
bugging the hell out of any doctor or nurse they could get their hands on;
searching for any piece of information available
about their friend.
Sometimes one or two of the faces would change,
but the concern was the same. These men
did not seem to be complete without the missing member, and they would all
gather to be near that member when he was hurt. It was as if they could combine
their strength to make the other stronger.
Theirs was a relationship that went beyond
friendship, family, or love. It was
like their souls were connected to each other; they had all experienced
lifetime after lifetime within each others' company, and each life kept leading
them back together.
And now they waited to hear about the fate of one
life.
Chris stood by the window, his eyes seeming to
stare out across the busy city street that stood outside, but in truth he saw
nothing. His minds' eye could only picture Ezra's pale face, wincing even in
his unconscious state from the pain that continued to hound him. He could not
understand why Ezra refused to believe that he was seriously ill.
How could he feel so rotten, and yet brush it off
as if it were nothing more then a minor inconvenience? Ezra's stubbornness
could have cost him his life. And to die from something like a burst appendix
just didn't make any sense.
"I'm going to find out what's going on."
Vin said, pushing himself up from the couch that he had just sat down on only a
minute ago. He had been up and down from the couch, and in and out of the room
so many times that Chris had lost count.
"They're not going to tell you anything that
they didn't ten minutes ago. Sit down, your making me dizzy." Chris turned
from the window and pushed Vin back down onto the couch.
"But Chris, its been almost two hours. What
could possibly be taking so long?"
"Brother Vin." Josiah's voice brought all
attention to him. Until them he had been sitting quietly in a chair in the
corner, his hands clasped together in his lap, and his eyes closed as he
silently prayed for their ailing friend. "You'll do him no good by making yourself sick with worry. He
is in good hands, and he is a man of amazing spirit and strength. I have every
faith in him coming through this just fine."
Chris smiled. Josiah had a way of calming the
waters with just a few simple words. "So do I. Now why don't we all just
calm down, and wait for the doctor to come to us." He looked pointedly at
Vin, who gave a sigh combined of weariness and frustration, and leaned back
into the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. Chris sat down beside him, and
began the second part of the waiting process.
On one level, he had to agree with Vin. This was
the worst part. This long, excruciating waiting. Waiting to hear if Ezra would be alright, or if it had all been
too late,....they had been too late. No. He
wasn't going to go there. But, why WAS it so taking
so long?
He pushed such thoughts from his mind, knowing
that if he allowed them to take control of him, it would drive him mad. He
turned his thoughts to a current case, and tried to concentrate on that, but
others things kept getting in the way. Little things that no one should really
notice, but did anyway.
He could hear the flipping sound of pages turning
as JD went through a magazine that he was really not paying any attention to.
The sound was deafening in the heavy silence of the room. Buck sat next to him,
his head leaned back as he contemplated the ceiling tiles, and he finally had
enough of JD's flipping. He grabbed the magazine from the young man's hands and
tossed it across the room. JD, undeterred, picked up another magazine and took
up the flipping again. Buck shook his head, and turned his attention back to
the ceiling again.
Vin continued his impatient sighing, and added to
that a nervous little shake of his knee. Chris knew that he was worried, they
all were, but out of all of them Vin was the most nervous. His friendship
with Ezra was the biggest surprise out of the
forming of the team. Ezra had at first been reluctant to let any of them get
close to him, but Vin was never one to back down from a challenge, and Ezra was
the biggest challenge that he had ever encountered. But slowly, he managed to
break through that 'hard as nails' exterior that Ezra showed the world, and the
two had formed a close friendship. Chris knew that if something happened to
Ezra, Vin would likely go crazy from grief.
"Excuse me?" A voice cut in through all the
jumbled thoughts, and made the men snap to attention.
"I'm looking for," She consulted the
paper on her clip board, "Mr. Chris Larabee?"
"That's me." Chris said, standing up.
"Your friend, Mr. Standish is out of surgery.
The doctor is finishing post-op. He should be here to talk to you in a minute."
"Do you know how he is?" Chris asked,
anxious to hear word of Ezra.
"The surgery went well. I'll let the doctor
fill you in on the rest."
She smiled at the men, and left the room, once
again leaving them alone to wait.
What seemed like hours, but was actually only a
few minutes, passed and a tall man with a head full of white hair and a pair of
kind blue eyes entered the waiting room.
"Hello gentlemen," he said, greeting
each man with a smile and nod, "I'm Dr. Longbrook. You must be Mr.
Standish's friends."
"How is he?" Vin spoke up first.
"Can we see him?"
"One question at at time, Mr........?"
"Tanner. Vin Tanner."
"Mr. Tanner. Your friend is doing fine. The
surgery went well, and he should make a full recovery." A sigh of relief
escaped the mouths of all men in the room. "Right now he is in recovery,
but you can see him for a few minutes before we move him to a room. Only one at
a time please, we can't have all of you crowding him."
The six men nodded and thanked the doctor.
"You go ahead, Vin. I know your dieing to see him."
Vin smiled, and grasped Chris's shoulder for a
second before getting up and going to find Ezra.
________________________________
He knew where he was even before he opened his
eyes. The smell alone was enough to tell him. That horrid, tangy smell of
disinfectant that no other place on earth held. He hated it. If he wasn't sick
already, he was sure that smell would accomplish the task.
The feel of stiff linen was beneath him. One would
think that to make a person feel better, they would be given something more
comfortable to rest upon, but no. A hard mattress covered with itchy sheets.
Oh joy. He felt so much better. If it wasn't for
the dull ache in his stomach, he would be jumping up and down on top of the bed
and screaming out his happiness at his current situation.
He always did get a little cynical at these times.
He tried to let himself drift back into the soft
world of sleep, knowing that it would be about the only place that would not
hurt. If he should open his eyes, he would be sure to see six pairs of anxious eyes
staring down at him, asking him questions, talking to him in stern tones for
causing yet more fear to their hearts. Well, he was used to that, but he didn't
feel like putting up with it at the moment.
What he wanted was more time alone in his own
brain to sort out some things. A vague memory of seeing Josiah's face above
him, hearing Vin's voice saying his name, telling him to hang on. A tear had
escaped Josiah's eye, he could not fathom that. Never in the entire time that he
had known the man had he ever seen him cry. He had wanted to tell Josiah not to
cry, had wanted to answer Vin's voice as it continued to call him, but he had
felt so weak, and his breath would come only in short pants. He took comfort
for the mere presence of his friends.
His friends.
It was a new, and strange word to him. Not even in
his years as a child could he remember having anyone that he truly called a
friend. Maude had never allowed him to get close to any other child, telling
him that he was either to good for them; or, in her more nasty moments, that no
one would really like him for himself, so to try to make someone his friend was
a useless exercise. He had gone through many years believing just that, until
six men with the hardest heads besides his own began to slowly break down the
walls that he had built around himself.
Oh, the walls where still there, but they where
crumbling a little more everyday. And soon, only old and broken ruins would
remain.
Which was good, he thought. He liked to look at
old ruins.
A soft smile formed on his lips at the last
thought. The drugs he had been given must still be affecting him.
He felt a strong hand grasp onto his and squeeze,
as if to tell him that he was not alone, and a voice reached through the haze
in his mind.
"Ezra? You awake?"
Chris? He wasn't who Ezra had been expecting to be
waiting at his bedside. Vin, yes; or JD or Josiah seemed to always be the ones
to sit by him during such times. Chris was around also, but he never remembered
him to be the one he first saw.
His eyes opened slowly, blinking away the
brightness of the stark, white room, and his gaze swam into focus on the hard
lines of Chris Larabee's face.
Chris smiled to finally see Ezra waking up. He had
been moved to the room a few hours ago, but had remained asleep. They had all
been worried about the length of time that Ezra had been under, but the doctor reassured
them that it was not uncommon for a patient to sleep longer than the anesthesia
would last. Still, they had stayed by Ezra side the whole time, sometimes in
shifts and others all together. They had not wanted Ezra to wake to find
himself alone.
"How you feeling?" Chris asked, reaching
out to brush a stray strand of hair off Ezra's forehead. His skin felt cool
now, a huge difference from the heat that had emanated from him only the day
before.
"Like a useless appendage exploded inside of
me," Ezra croaked out. His dry tongue reached out to run over equally dry
lips. Chris, in his uncanny way, seemed to know what he wanted, and put a straw
to his lips. Ezra sipped, feeling the cool water enter his mouth, and slide down
his throat. It felt wonderful. "Thank you," he said, sliding down onto
the stiff pillows behind his head. "Where are the others?"
"Vin should be here soon, he went home to
change. Nathan and Josiah had to go to the office, seems one of our cases broke
all on its own and they went to finish off some of the paper work. Buck and JD
are probably still asleep down in the lobby. Want me to get them?"
Ezra shook his head, closing his eyes again.
"No. Not right now. I'm too tired to put up Mr. Dunne's enthusiasm at the
moment. Maybe later."
A yawn that he could not hide spread over his mouth.
"Alright," Chris said, and Ezra heard
him sigh. It usually meant that he wanted to say something, but didn't want to
bother Ezra at the moment when he felt as he did.
"If you've something to say, Chris, please do
so. I don't know if you will get
another chance later."
"Ezra, why did you refuse to let us help you?
You where sick, you could have died."
Ezra opened his eyes again to look into the steel
blue ones that usually appeared so distant, yet now where filled with
compassion and concern. It made a great difference on Chris's face, taking away
so
many years from him. He was a lot younger then
Ezra had initially thought upon first meeting him. It was the pain and hardship
that he had gone through that made him appear so much older.
"I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment."
Ezra tried to joke his way out of the conversation, but the look in Chris's
eyes told him that it would not work. Not this time. "I didn't think it was serious. I rarely get sick, and when I
do its hardly enough to get worried over."
Chris fought the urge to slap some sense upside
Ezra's head. Not enough to worry over? Who was he kidding? From the day they
met Ezra had been giving Chris too much to worry over. The agent was a maverick.
Took too many chances. It was enough to make his hair turn gray.
"I want you to promise me, that whenever you
feel sick or hurt that you will tell me, or Vin, or any of the others. I
wouldn't want any of you to go through something like this, and I know that you
wouldn't want me to either. We're a team. We stick together, look out for each
other. When are you
going to accept that?"
He meant for his words to sound stern, but he
could not keep the relieved smile from entering his voice.
"Force of habit." Ezra's voice became
soft and distant again as the sleepy haze came down over his mind again.
Chris smiled as he watched Ezra fall asleep again.
He shook his head, and pulled the blanket up to the young agent's chin. "A
habit that I will break you of. If its the last thing I do."
Chris leaned back in his chair again to wait for
Ezra to wake. They would have plenty of time to talk, all of them. Ezra would have to listen; and, sooner or
later, believe.
____________________________
THE END
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