A/N: Disclaimer I don't own Magnificent Seven characters, only the original characters.

I shot the sheriff, his friends and all of the boys. I'm sorry... Trust me, I'm crying too.

Ezra let out a low groan as he tried to apply pressure on the bleeding area in his side. His bloody hands were trembling as he struggled to draw breath. The sounds of gunfire and screaming from nearby had him flinching. The action only agitated his wound. Taking in shallow breaths, the gambler turned regulator looked up with teary eyes to two figures huddled together. He blinked furiously as the downed figured of his compatriots were five yards away. Buck had been cradling the young sheriff up against his chest before meeting his own end. Out of everything that was happening, that they should die holding the other in their last moments seemed right. Vin, their sharpshooter, he had seen before he was shot. The bounty hunter turned regulator had been on the roof of the hotel across the street when bullets came flying. All he could see now was the man's body, leaning slightly over the ledge, the sawed off rifle had fallen from the loose hands and dropped down below. Ezra never got the chance to see Josiah or Nathan again. The two men had been following some of the shooters into a building that, as soon as they went in, was razed to the ground by several sticks of dynamite. Their deaths were no doubt instant. Another groan escaped his lips and he went still as a person ran passed him.

It won't do to let them on that you're still alive.

The gambler hadn't seen Chris. The last time he had seen their leader, the man had been trying to get something to patch up their wounds. He had hidden Standish behind a barrel in between two buildings. A familiar sound of jingling spurs brought out a sigh of relief.

"We need to get you somewhere safer." Came a quiet voice.

"I don't…" Ezra took a couple of seconds to catch his breath so he could finish his sentence, "…walk." In his fuzzy mind, it was a full sentence, but he wasn't quite aware that he was starting to lose words.

"I can carry you. Just hold onto that wound." Chris said, already knowing the man well enough to know what he was trying to say.

The man in black, pulled Ezra up to his feet and immediately had to take on all the weight. They shuffled down the little alley and found a nice wall of crates to hide behind. There, they would have time to recover. Ezra let out an unceremonious gasp as he was laid back down. Gritting his teeth, he tried to bite back curses. Larabee wasn't looking all that much better, but the man continued to try and patch up the man he considered one of his brothers. He had found the well-worn bag of supplies from Nathan's clinic.

"Mista…Jackson… won't be pleased." Ezra slurred and tried to give his companion a smile. Chris's frown etched in his brow never went away. His eyes concentrated on what he was doing. "You have… no clue…what to… do, do you."

"Shut the hell up Standish." Chris said gruffly, but there was no anger in his tone, "If you have energy to talk, save it for breathing."

Ezra couldn't help smiling at the man, and for several minutes, stayed silent and did just that.

"This is all my fault." Chris muttered. Ezra, who had closed his eyes when there was no talking, opened them again to look at the man kneeling over him. "I should've seen this coming."

Ezra lifted a bloody hand and grabbed a fist full of the blond's black jacket. The look of surprise was worth it. He had to wait to gather his strength though, but was able to manage spitting out, "Don't doubt." Chris frowned, trying to understand the meaning behind the words. "The others…yourself…me. We did our best." He dropped his hand back down, the action using more energy than he had originally guessed.

And they had. The telegram wires had been cut. They were caught by surprise by over thirty men. The town had been thrown into chaos, but they were able to kill at least a dozen of them before JD was shot, then Buck. One after the other, their brothers died. Citizens fled and buildings were being burnt. Ezra felt his eyes grow heavy, but did his best to keep them open. The last thing he wanted to do was die on the man who was trying his hardest to save him. It actually was funny when you thought back to when they had first begun. Chris had saved him that day when he had given him a second chance. No doubt Ezra would've left town and continued his life as a gambler. Probably would've died sooner without no one to care that he was gone. Here, in this backwater of a town, he had found friends, brothers who die for each other, who would miss him. Whom he would miss.

"Mis…ta Larabee." Ezra said, more sluggish than the last time he spoke. He was feeling colder. His fingers and legs lost all feeling. Nathan would've said that he had lost too much blood and that him recovering from this would be no short of a miracle. He was pretty sure their team had finally run out of miracles and luck. "I fear… my time… is nearly up." He didn't want to make the man angry, but Chris looked ready to argue. It made Ezra think of all the times they did argue and all the times he would annoy Chris just for fun. "I'm afraid…Chris." His words silenced the would be argument and Chris stayed quiet to allow the man to speak. Ezra rarely addressed him by his first name, and when he did, it was usually important. "I don't want to die…I just…got used…to living."

Chris gripped the smaller man's shoulder, trying to give the dying man some strength in this scary time.

"This shouldn't have happened."

"Well...I was…due to meet my end…eventually."

"We've all been dancing around our fate for five years now." Chris said, his voice breaking. Ezra felt something wet drop on his face.

"Just… so we's clear… am I forgiven…for walking out…on you…"

"Standish, you've proven yourself to this team again and again."

"I just need…"

"You're forgiven, Ezra. Have been for five years."

"'pologies…I just needed…to hear it…from you." Ezra said, looking relieved as he gave a weak chuckle before it faded out.

"I'm sorry I never told you out loud." Chris said, but Ezra never heard him. The gambler's eyes were staring unblinking up at him, looking happy, but the light that had shown in them for years was gone. Chris closed the man's eyes and gave a silently prayer. Hot tears ran down his face. Though he wasn't the one to call on a higher power like Josiah, he was going to turn heaven upside down if he didn't see all of his men there. His sold he didn't care about, but each of them had worked hard to turn their lives around for the better.

When he finished his prayer, Chris heard the sound of a hammer on a colt being pulled back behind him. He didn't bother to turn around to see his killer. He didn't fight to live. After three years after his first family was killed, he found another one. Now that they were dead too, he didn't care. His eyes never left the gambler's smile and actually was able to form one himself before the trigger was pulled.