Search lights flooded the area on Chris's property where land had been disturbed in recent weeks. Because of their last job, he'd not been out there enough over the last 5 weeks to be able to tell them what had been dug when, so the searchers were looking everywhere. Helicopters had tried infrared scans, but with no success. Cadaver dogs prowled and ground penetrating radar devices were being used throughout, but there was so much space and so little time.

Vin stood at the end of the drive, scoping out the expanse before him. After a few long minutes, he jogged toward a grove to the south. He stopped several yards back, analyzing the terrain. The shadows darkened sections of the small stand of trees, but it didn't stop him from finding what he hoped he'd been looking for.

"Buck! Chris! We need that equipment over here. There, next to edge of the trees. Dig there."

Chris ran over ahead of the equipment. "Why?" He didn't doubt Vin, but want to know the reasoning for that choice. Too much was riding on it.

"The land around here looks to have been compressed more that it was in other areas that have been dug up. Like they were trying shield it, to divert attention. And, this spot can be seen straight on from the front door. Right in front of you – like Tolliver said. I can't say why, but I just know this is it."

Buck moved the backhoe into place and started digging. No one spoke. JD paced on the far side of the growing hole, watching every shovelful being lifted out.

"Wait, stop!" JD yelled. "You've hit something." Once he was certain Buck had stopped working the backhoe, he leapt into the hole. He took the smaller spade and began scrapping frantically. A moment later he felt someone beside him and moved forward, glancing quickly to see that it was Vin he had made space for. "I knew you'd find him Vin," he gasped out without slowing his efforts. It took little time to clear the dirt enough to expose the pine slab. JD's hands shook as he forced the tip of the shovel under the lid, prying with every bit of strength he had left. Vin was beside him, adding his leverage and both shouted in relief when the heard the wood splinter. Vin grabbed for the shovel again, forcing the end of the cover off.

"Damn it – open the other end Vin." JD cursed when he realized he was looking at Ezra's feet. Vin moved quickly while JD reached in, gently pressing on the shin. "Ezra? Can you hear me? It's JD, Ezra. We got you." He waited for sound or movement, but none came. He moved the pant leg up, touching skin with trepidation. "Vin, he's cold. He's not moving Vin."

"Nathan, get down here." Vin shouted up as he finally succeeded in releasing the other end. He went quiet at the sight that awaited. Ezra's lips were blue, his face cold, slack and unmoving. As chilling as that was, it was the trails of tearstains that broke his heart. He reached down and slapped him, gently at first, then with more force. "Damn it Ezra, open your eyes. Don't you dare die on us now, you hear me?" He felt himself being pulled back as Nathan reached down an placed an oxygen mask over Ezra's face. He began pressing on his chest, forcing the lungs into movement. Vin reached down with trembling hand, feeling for a pulse. His had rested on the side of Ezra's neck for several seconds before he was able to let out a soft gasp. "There's a pulse. He's alive." He began gently brushing the settling dirt from Ezra's face, trying to offer some comfort, although he wasn't sure if that wasn't more for himself.

"We need that stretcher over here, now!" Chris shouted to the medical team standing by.

"Nathan," Josiah asked hesitantly, "how is he?" When Nathan didn't respond, he got even more anxious. "Damn it Nathan! Are we in time?"

"I don't know. He's cyanotic, and I'm betting his pulse-ox is well below where it should be. Pupils are slow but there is some response."

"All of which means what?" Chris asked impatiently.

"It means we need to move fast."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The sun was up, shining more brightly than seemed appropriate as they huddled in the hallway in front of Ezra's room, watching the nurse settle the blankets around him again as his doctor added a few notes to the chart. For the hours he had been there they hadn't wandered far from that spot. Periodically one went for coffee for all of them. The littering of still half full cups on side tables in the waiting room showed that had been far more from habit than need. Even when Travis had arrived, they gave him little of their attention. After checking in himself to see that Ezra was in fact still with them, and letting them know that a large-scale round up of virtually every member of the cult was underway, he had left them to wait together, eliciting the promise that he would get the first call when Ezra woke up.

They circled, vulture like, around the doctor as he made his way back into the hall. He said nothing, directing them several feet away from the door before speaking quietly.

"All things considered, your friend is in remarkably good shape. The injuries to his hands aren't as bad as they looked, and likely came from an understandable effort to extricate himself from his situation. The cold, confinement and tension will undoubtedly result in a lot of aches and pains, but no long-term problems."

"But he's still unconscious. That can't be good."

"Yes Mr. Larabee. He is. It is impossible to say for certain how much of that is physical and how much stems from a more emotional base. The trauma was significant, as you can well understand."

"Have you done any scans?" Nathan asked. "Determined if…" he didn't want to finish the thought.

"The monitoring we are doing shows that there is some reduction in brain activity, but that is to be expected in the circumstance. I am a little reluctant at this juncture to schedule him for an MRI. There really wouldn't be much to be gained, as the results wouldn't likely change our course of treatment."

"But they'd tell you more about what's going on." Nathan countered.

"I would prefer not to risk the possibility of Mr. Standish waking up inside the MRI tunnel. I think you can well imagine that would be a less than ideal situation, and a risk not worth taking at this point." Nathan nodded, understanding the last thing Ezra should have to deal with would be any further suggestion of confinement.

"But medically, he's doing OK doc?" Vin was trying to clarify all of this in his mind.

"He is breathing normally, without assistance, although we do still have him on an oxygen canula. His blood-oxygen levels have stabilized, but are still a bit lower than I'd like to see. As I said, there are no other significant physical injuries. For the moment, the plan is to let him get more rest, and hopefully wake up of his own volition in a few hours."

"So, there's really nothing much we can do for him?" Buck asked, the disappointment and frustration evident.

"On the contrary, there is a great deal you can do. For the moment, I think one or two of you should be with him, in the event he regains consciousness earlier than I would anticipate."

"Not a problem." Josiah showed the first hint of a smile from anyone on the team. "Be harder keeping that number that low."

"Well, it needs to be, at least for now. He does need the rest, and quiet is the best course. If he hasn't shown any sign of waking in – oh let's make it six hours from now, I would suggest more of you join in. Talk to him, talk amoungst yourselves. The idea would be to create a familiar atmosphere for him. Something he would be comfortable waking up to."

Nathan took the lead again. "You're saying his subconscious might be what's keeping him from waking up?"

"At the moment, exhaustion and oxygen deprivation is keeping him unconscious. But, from what I understand of the situation, it is entirely possible that he might have some difficulty convincing himself he wants to wake up again, given what he was facing each time he did so in the last day and half. I believe once he understands he is safe, his recovery will proceed at a much quicker pace."

"And when he wakes up?" Chris had to ask. "Things will be back to normal then?"

The doctor looked back into the room quickly before returning his attention to the team. "As I indicated, there is a reduction in brain activity at this point. We can't say for certain how long that went on, and what effects might result. Nor can we say what the psychological consequences will be. Physically, he is stabilizing, and I am cautiously optimistic that there is little long-term damage to consider. His emotional recovery is something I can't comment on. Much will depend on his own character, and the support he gets. I don't know him to speak to the first part, although simply surviving this is a good indicator. And I dare say I think he has a very strong support system here, which I assure you will help. There will be more to it, but if I were a betting man, I'd be betting on him. If you will excuse me, I have other patients to see, but will be back here later. The desk can page me if you need anything sooner."

"Thanks doc." Chris shook his hand.

"I have done very little. This recovery is far more his effort, and yours."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Buck pulled another chair in from the waiting room, leaving that area sparsely furnished while Ezra's room looked like a furniture clearance sale. Vin was next to the bed, his hand resting on Ezra's arm while continuing to talk about any and everything that came to mind. They'd spent the last six hours speaking softly around him, trying not to wake him while at the same time make sure he knew he wasn't alone. It was a tough balancing act, and one Buck and JD had acknowledged they couldn't master. They had left the subtle approach to Nathan, Josiah, Vin, while they stayed nearby.

Chris, surprisingly, had left for a short time, updating the judge on the diagnosis, and being briefed on the arrests being made. None of Tolliver's followers had admitted to anything, but evidence was mounting quickly against 4 of his top lieutenants. Chloroform had been found, along with rope and flats of pine panels which would no doubt match the materials from the coffin. Voice matching from the recording would be the final bit of proof needed. Chris regretted for a just a moment that Tolliver had not lived to see the plan fail, and to see his so-called cult collapse in ruin.

He returned as they were pulling the seats into Ezra's room. He handed Buck a slip of paper, and answered the unasked question that was evident.

"Rachel's phone number. She left it with a note asking you to call her and let her know how things are going." Buck smiled, and Chris chuckled softly. "Really? She got to you?"

"Hey," Buck replied, "she's an interesting lady. What she did, walking into our lion's den, that took guts - and class. What's not to like?"

Chris shook his head. "Never would have pegged you two for friends, let alone anything more than that."

"It's a phone call and maybe a couple of drinks, Chris. Not like I plan on proposing or anything. I'd just need -" he hesitated, looking down at the bed.

"Need what?"

"Permission, I guess."

Chris assumed he looked as confused as he felt when Buck shrugged self-consciously. "From Ezra. I need him to be OK with me seeing Tolliver's daughter. It might make him think I was being – hell I don't know, disrespectful or something. It just might be weird is all."

""I wouldn't worry too much about that Buck. If there is anyone unlikely to hold the actions of a parent against the child, I'd say Ezra is your man. And when we tell him how she helped, he'll probably want to buy her a few drinks himself. But for the record – asking him shows you're a pretty class act yourself."

Chris continued to shake his head as he moved to the far side of the bed. "You really need to wake up Ezra. You don't want to miss what's going on here." He took the chair near the head of the bed. If he was being honest, he'd have to admit to seeing little change since he'd left. Ezra did seem to have a bit more colour back in his face and hands, but still felt cold to him. It also didn't look like he had moved at all, and that worried him.

"A few twitches," Nathan answered when Chris asked about it, "but nothing beyond reflex."

"Look Ezra, I know you like a good long nap as much as the next guy –"

"Especially if the next guy is Rip Van Winkle," Josiah interjected.

"- but enough is enough."

"Yeah Ezra," JD added. "This is getting kinda old, so wake up already."

They hadn't really expected a response that quickly, but it didn't stop them from being disappointed when nothing happened. They kept the chatter going, both to Ezra and round him. JD pulled Vin aside at one point, needing the answer to a question he hated to ask.

"You got a better look at his face down there than I did. Was he – was he scared? Do you think he was he awake that whole time?"

Vin didn't have to work to hard to draw the image back to mind. He didn't think he would ever be able to forget it. "Yeah kid, I think he was awake. And scared. Wouldn't you be?"

"I'd be a hell of a lot more than that. Vin, do you think he knew we were looking for him? I mean, do you think he had any hope at all?"

"He survived, didn't he? Of course he knew."

JD had a ghost of a smile as he walked back to the foot of the bed. "Good. Then he wasn't alone."

It was close to an hour before the first movement was noticed.

"Ezra – you trying to open your eyes?" Buck asked. "Nathan, turn off the overheads. It's too bright here for him. They all watched, barely daring to breathe as Ezra tossed lightly in bed, his hands reaching out and then quickly pulling back when he made contact with the bed railing. Vin reached to take his hand, but Ezra pulled away again at the first hint of contact.

"Don't Vin. It's spooking him." Josiah cautioned. "He doesn't seem to want to touch anything." They kept talking gently, encouraging him to wake up, but he settled back into his deep sleep. Sighing, they returned to their rambling discussions.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The voices were back. Ezra was sure they had left him, or possible more accurately, he had left them. Left everything. Now they were back.

Louder than before. Clearer. Speaking to him. Well, that made a degree of sense. They were calling for him. Summoning him. He really did not want to do what they were asking, even though at some level he knew he had no real choice in the matter. He slowly reached out and was shocked when his hand hit a hard surface. Shit. He was still in the coffin. How could he feel that if he was dead? A hand touched his, and he pulled back quickly. No one was dragging him into the afterlife. He wasn't ready for that yet, and he wasn't going willingly. He'd go kicking and screaming, if only he had the strength for either action.

The voices backed off a little. Softer again, not calling his name. He had a reprieve. It wouldn't last, he knew. But he would take whatever he could get.

He drifted off, trying to ignore the sounds. He had no idea how long he'd been zoned out until he heard a loud and very familiar laugh, followed by several shushing sounds and what had to be Chris Larabee tersely whispering "Tone it down, you jackass." Chris was here? Silencing Buck? Dear God, were they dead too? Was the whole team dead, and here with him? No, they couldn't all be in this tiny coffin. He reached out a hand again, and the voices quieted. He moved his arm out until he noted with surprise he had gone much further than his confines should allow. He pulled back, his hand brushing on something soft. A blanket? That was the moment he registered that his back was cushioned. Not a board, but a mattress beneath him. This was impossible. This could not be happening. There was only one way to know for certain.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc