Disclaimer: I don't own the Magnificent Seven. I use them for typing and composition practice. I make absolutely no money off of this story.

It had been a quiet day. People had hurried through their errands and quickly headed home. The weather had an unsettled quality for late autumn. Clouds hung low in the sky. The sun struggled to shed light as it waned toward evening. It wouldn't be early in the year for snow, but it was the cold that drove the citizens for Four Corners to their abodes.

Ezra hunched into his coat as he walked from the jail to the saloon. There were no prisoners in the cells, but he had drawn the short straw of being a presence in the jail while people finished their errands. A bitter wind cut through the town as he stepped into the street. He felt his shivers all the way to his bones. All he wanted for the rest of this afternoon was a quiet game with the rest of the team until this storm, or whatever the weather was going to send, passed through. A sense of dread made him look down the street toward the cemetery. At the edge of town was a dark, hooded figure that was unaffected by the wind. Time stopped as the figure floated toward Ezra.

"Who have you come for?" Ezra whispered, the cold stealing his voice.

Does it matter? Come with me, and I will touch no one else.

The response seemed to come from the wind and appear in his head at the same time. The figure extended a misty arm. When Ezra hesitated, the figure looked toward the saloon where Chris and Vin were waiting for him. Ezra started to reach out. He stopped as a thought entered his mind. He'd made a promise.

"I will go with you, but I must first compose a dispatch for my associates. I promised to not 'run out' on them."

So be it. You are mine.

The figure stepped next to Ezra and put an arm through Ezra's side. His vision went gray, and he staggered as a cold hand wrapped around his heart. Straining to breath, Ezra walked into the saloon.

The saloon was mostly empty. The few patrons did not look up as Ezra entered. Two pairs of eyes watched him by means of the bar mirror as he headed up the stairs. Both noted the pale, sweaty face and rapid breaths. As Ezra disappeared from sight, Vin and Chris shared a silent conversation. Chris headed out to find the rest of the team as Vin went up to Ezra's room. He went from concerned to worried when he saw Ezra hadn't shut his door. The normally composed gambler was shaking so badly that he was unable to grip the pencil in his hand.

"What'cha doin'?" Vin asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He hoped Chris would hurry because Ezra was getting worse and fast.

"I am attempting to write a letter."

Vin took the pencil out of Ezra's hand.

"Fine. You speak; I'll write." With luck, that would slow the process to a crawl without Ezra figuring out that it was a delaying tactic.

Chris saw Buck and J.D. walking from the stables as soon as he stepped out of the saloon.

"J.D.! Go get Nathan and bring him to the saloon! Quick!"

J.D. took off running to the clinic. Buck lengthened his stride so he could see Chris's face in the waning afternoon sun.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't know for sure but Ezra staggered into the saloon looking like most men do when they're dead. Vin headed to his room, and I went to get the rest of you."

Buck nodded. "I just saw Josiah head into the hotel. Think he was planning on a meal. It'll have to wait."

Buck strode off, his long legs eating up the ground at a pace that wasn't quite a run but definitely wasn't a walk. Nathan and J.D. arrived from the clinic. Chris nodded to them as he turned back to the saloon. The three of them were stepping onto the boardwalk when Josiah burst out of the hotel with Buck right on his heels. Chris's lips curved into a smile that was not friendly at all. Whatever was wrong with Ezra was in for a hell of a fight.

Vin could hear the pounding of multiple sets of feet on the stairs leading to the second floor of the saloon. Relief flooded through him. Ezra was not using his typical flowery language. He was using simple language that Vin could write after the few lessons he had taken from Mary. It sounded like Ezra was trying to say goodbye without actually doing so. Vin was alarmed by Ezra's language and behavior. The gambler was saying only one or two words at a time, as if he understood that the rest of the team was on their way.

Ezra faced Chris as he entered the room.

"Mr. Larabee," he drawled, trying to keep up normal appearances.

"Ezra," Chris growled, "what is going on?"

"I was attempting to compose a missive explaining the situation but seem unable to put it into words that do not sound like I am running out on you."

Nathan reached around Chris to take Ezra's arm.

"Hey now! You're not going anywhere in your condition!"

Josiah started to agree with Nathan but was distracted when he caught sight of Vin staring at the empty space to Ezra's left.

"Mr. Jackson, I have no choice at this time. My leaving is to pro-"

Ezra's face contorted with pain, and he fell to his knees. His body shook as he struggled to pull in short, raspy breaths. Unable to catch his breath, he collapsed completely. Buck and J.D. rushed into the room and braced Ezra on either side to hold him up. Nathan knelt down next to him, checking the pulse in his wrist. Chris's heart felt icy cold when Nathan positioned his fingers on multiple pulse points.

"I can't find his pulse," Nathan whispered.

Five men stared in shock as Vin punched the air next to Ezra.

"You leave him alone! He's ours!" Vin shouted.

The five men watched as the hooded figure became visible to all of them. Rage shimmered almost palpably as their gazes followed one arm's path into Ezra's chest. The wind outside howled and shook the saloon.

He's mine. He chose to come with me.

Chris's eyes narrowed in fury.

"Don't matter. You can't take him because he was ours first and we ain't handing him over to you." Chris didn't blink as he stared down the phantom.

He chose. That's all the permission I need.

"Aw hell. Guess Ezra forgot to tell you that he promised Chris that he wouldn't run out on us. If'n he agreed before talking to 'im, then he's still ours." Vin looked relaxed, except for his shoulders. He was itching to punch this figure again.

Josiah rubbed his chin. "Did you come for Ezra? Before you took his breath, I do believe he was trying to say that he was protecting someone."

I told him if he came with me, then I would harm no one else. I never told him whether or not I was here for anyone.

Chris's eyes hardened even more at that comment. He reached out and grasped the figure about the neck and lifted. To everyone's surprise, the figure actually was lifted up; its arm lengthening to accommodate the longer distance to Ezra's heart. The figure did seem to lose a bit of its hold on Ezra, as the gambler was able to take a shaky, deep breath, although he still remained unconscious.

"You are not taking him, agreement or not. We don't take to lying, cheating, thieving spirits taking any of us."

He's a gambler. By profession, he lies, cheats, and steals. In his own heart, he thinks he's worth less than any one of you. Why would you keep such a lousy soul as him?

"Lousy? Ezra is not lousy!" Nathan couldn't help shouting his outrage.

Really? A southern "gentleman?" Tried to sell women? Kept a Chinese girl as a slave?

"No! Those were my mistakes. My prejudices. I didn't look below the surface."

Vin rested a hand on Nathan's shoulder. "We didn't look past the surface lots of times. Not just ya. But no matter how we fail, he's always where we need him."

Except when he ran out on you at the Indian village. And he was planning on leaving with the hit man's fee too, wasn't he?

J.D. bristled. "If he hadn't ridden out to try to find that mine, Ezra would'a been tied up right alongside us with that cannon pointed at our feet! We saved that village because Ezra rode off and CAME BACK!"

"Yeah. And he stepped in front of that bullet to save Mary Travis's life without knowing that the money in his coat would stop the bullet." Buck added.

With his hand still around the figure's throat, Chris started marching toward the window.

"None of us are anywhere near what you'd call angels, but we belong to each other and to this town. You don't get one of us without the other six. There's no where you could go if you take one of us that the rest would not follow. Even to Hell."

Vin stalked toward the window. "Ya either take all of us or none of us ."

I am only allowed to take one soul but there are others of my kind that can take multiples. Beware.

With that last word, the figure vanished from sight. On the floor in the middle of the room, Ezra took a breath and then another. He started breathing deeply and regularly. Nathan reached to check his pulse again. He looked up at Chris.

"It's strong and steady. He should be fine with just a little rest."

Vin looked outside. The sky was dark as night but the wind had stopped howling.

"Wonder how long we argued with that spirit?"

Chris followed Vin's gaze. "Don't know. Think we need to be worried about the others he talked about?"

"Well, we surely know Heaven won't take us," Josiah drawled.

"Hell should be scared we'll take over," Ezra whispered. "I'm guessing I have all of you to thank that I still tread this mortal coil. There are no words to begin to express my deep abiding gratitude."

Seven men grinned at each other. Heaven and Hell did not matter. Together, they were magnificent and that was more than enough.