A/N: *Warning- This chapter will not top the last one for those who were expecting it to. I needed a little reprieve after such sad intensity, and I think so did Ezra, lol. This one's just regular whumpage and a tiny bit of him actually getting the last laugh. You have been warned. ;)

"Help! Please, can anyone hear me?"

He knew that voice. It was a woman…there was something special about her…

Oh no.

Had his body been responding to his thoughts he knew his face would have flushed with both embarrassment and anger. That woman calling out to whoever would listen was a real life version of Jason's Sirens, feeding off the men that were lulled to her side by her sweet song, only to drown them once she had had her fill.

Ezra, con artist extraordinaire that he was, fell right into her trap.

Always one to aide a damsel in distress.

He sighed and felt himself shiver against the frigid winter air. This particular catastrophe happened not all that long ago, just before he found himself joining up with his current companions. He and Chaucer were in no real hurry, casually shifting from one town to the next, never staying in one place long enough for the Fort Laramie incident to find its way back to him.

A strong gust of wind carried her voice to him as if it had ridden in on the snow that numbed his face.

He turned Chaucer towards the river in an instant, urging the horse to move quickly but remaining cautious not to send his four-legged friend into any potentially hazardous ice patches. He had to dismount and leave the chestnut on sturdier ground when he got closer to the water, his heart skipping a beat when he spotted the poor girl stranded on a small island near the middle of the fast-moving currents. She was wet and he could see her trembling violently from where he stood on the shore.

Where as he had felt nothing but fear for her at the time, and then later pure hatred, right now he felt himself being almost impressed. With his clear view of this past event he watched her play her part perfectly, conning the conman with supreme ease. She had no tells whatsoever that he could see, and knew that had he chanced upon her in his present time he still would have fallen for the trick. She was a pure professional.

Mother would love her.

He mentally tsked himself as he felt his arm wave at the woman, signaling that he was going to move upstream a little ways but that he'd be back for her. She nodded back, a mixture of fear and relief shining in her tear-filled eyes.

Lord, she's good.

He ran up the river a ways, doing his best to account for how far downstream the water would pull him once he slipped in. He made himself go a little further than he thought was really necessary, just in case. The last thing he wanted was to be swept past the girl and have to start all over again, aware that his muscles would be weakened with the cold the very instant he stepped into the icy waters.

Here we go.

The sudden temperature change made the breath catch in his lungs and he had to fight very hard not to simply crawl right back onto the shore, forgetting about the girl. He forced his arms and legs to pull him through the current, feeling the cold sapping him of his energy even faster than he had imagined. It only took him a few minutes to reach the tiny island, but for him, it felt like hours.

Don't touch me, he thought as he felt the girl help him crawl up onto her small piece of land. If his mind had been more clear at the time he might have spotted the small boat hidden in the reeds behind her, may have felt the little tingle that warned him danger was hunkered down nearby. Instead, his entire body wracked with uncontrollable shivers, he peered up at the woman and asked weakly if she was all right.

She answered between sobs, thanking him for coming for her and choppily explaining that she had tried to cross in a shallow area further upstream, that her horse had slipped and sent them both cascading down the river, how she had gotten lucky to be washed close enough to the island to pull herself ashore but how her poor animal must surely be dead. Ezra cringed internally as he felt his arms wrap around the liar, holding her close as he told her everything would be okay.

"I'll get you out of here," he promised.

"Not likely," she said, an evil grin on her face.

A man suddenly lunged from within the hidden boat, tackling Ezra to the ground where he felt his head slam against a river rock. In a daze, he tried his best to clear the fog from his mind as the man he held him down. It took a moment to realize that the woman was speaking.

"He was wearing a coat when I first saw him, must have ditched it before he got in the water. Where's your money, Mister? All in a neat little pile back on shore somewhere?"

"I don't have any," Ezra answered back, putting as much venom into his voice as possible. The effect was lost between his chattering teeth and slightly slurred speech, however, so he settled for giving her his best glare.

"Well, we'll find out," she promised, then without so much as taking another look at him she ordered her partner to toss him back into the river.

At least she won't find my belongings.

Internally, he allowed himself a wry little smile as he recalled stashing his coat, vest, and boots into a dark crevice between some rocks. Some would say (and he would probably let them) that he had taken precious time away from the rescue to stash his valuables because he didn't want them stolen, but in truth he had done it because he didn't want the spray coming from the river and the freezing rain that looked to be on its way to soil the clothing. His intention was to keep the coat and vest dry so that he and the girl wouldn't die of hypothermia once he got them both safely back to shore. The fact that everything he had of value was tucked within the pockets and boots hadn't even crossed his mind.

He felt a certain satisfaction knowing that once he returned to the spot weeks later he would find his things exactly where he left them, but it was really only a small triumph for what he was just seconds away from enduring. He would be rolled back into the icy water and lord would he try his best to make it to shore, but with the cold and fatigue that had already settled into him, and with the mild concussion and other bruises he had acquired from being tackled against the rocks, he wouldn't have the strength to pull himself out. He would feel the exact moment of panic when he lost the fight with the river and realized he was going under, his lungs screaming for air and his skin burning within flames of ice. The knowledge that he was going to die would hit him with a terrifying clarity.

Waking up in an abandoned homestead beside a roaring fire in the hearth, fresh bandages tied around cuts he didn't remember having, and a bag containing food and water within arm's reach would be the next thing he would recall. The memory of his rescue, along with his mysterious rescuer, would never return. He would also never know the fate of the harpy and her pet ogre. He hoped someone had caught them and both had hung for their crimes...

He heard a splash and realized it was the sound of his own body crudely being returned to the river. In a rare moment of synchronization since these flashbacks began, his mind and body simultaneously gasped out, then choked as the water rushed into his open mouth. It took a moment for his shocked limbs to register that the brain was issuing them an order, and though they tried their best to respond to the instruction, they were no match for the outside forces working against them. Still, he clawed back to the surface again and again, fighting against the icy tendrils that threatened to drag him down into the river's depths.

"Get him outta the water!"

Ezra heard the yell and gamely fought to keep his head from disappearing beneath the rapids.

"JD! Help!" he shouted frantically.

He suddenly felt warm hands snake beneath his shoulders and around his chest. "JD?" he asked tentatively, his voice barely a whisper as exhaustion threatened to pull him into unconsciousness.

"Don't worry, Ez, I'm gonna get you outta here. Just relax."

Panting heavily, all he could respond with was a week nod as he felt the young sheriff easily pulling him towards the shore, towards some place where he knew he could get warm.

The memory of his days spent recuperating alone in that old house flooded back into him and he smiled. "Why didn't you tell me it was you?" he mumbled, just before the blackness took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~7777777~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JD paced the room as he watched his friends monitor the progress of the Southerner's temperature. Though the wound had remained relatively clean after that first purging of the infection, Ezra's fever had continued to climb until Nathan felt the only thing they could do was place the man in a tub of cold water. All six lawmen accompanied the stretcher over to the bathhouse under the veil of night so that they could keep the moment private for the gambler, and JD had very nearly lost his cool when they eased the sick man into the water. Ezra had jerked violently and sucked in a pained breath of air before he went frighteningly slack, and Buck had to hold the kid back so he wouldn't interfere.

"He's all right, JD, the cold just startled him a little. We've gotta get that fever down."

The young sheriff clenched his jaw, but nodded and promised to stay out of the way as the healer and the others tended to his friend. After several long minutes the man in the tub began to tremble and JD was certain they would have to pull him out soon. Instead, Nathan rested a hand on the conman's forehead and sighed in frustration, asking for Chris to hand him the bucket in the corner.

"You're not gonna-" JD had started to ask when his own question was answered as the bucket was dunked in the tub and the cold water dumped over the Southerner's head.

Ezra sat up straighter with a gasp, followed immediately by a coughing spell. The others tried to push him back down further into the water but he began to fight them. His arms flailed wildly and he kicked out with his legs, all the while gasping for air.

"He's gonna reopen that wound if he don't stop," Nathan growled as he caught one of the swinging hands.

From his position on the far side of the room JD was the only one who could see the sheer panic on the gambler's face. Anger rose within him and he rushed forward, pushing Vin aside and yanking on Josiah's arm.

"Get him outta the water!" he shouted, his voice near hysterical.

Josiah was about to push the kid back out of the way when Ezra suddenly screamed out, "JD! Help!"

The cry had stunned everyone long enough for JD to squeeze in front of the preacher who had previously blocked his path. He leaned over into the tub, not caring that his clothes were getting soaked with cold water, and wrapped his arms around Ezra's chest. The man instantly stopped struggling and the others released their holds on him.

"JD?" Standish whispered.

The young sheriff smiled. "Don't worry, Ez, I'm gonna get you outta here. Just relax," he soothed, gently easing the Southerner out of the tub. Buck reached over and helped the kid pull Ezra the rest of the way out and they gently laid him back down on the stretcher, Chris tossing a blanket over him once Nathan had checked to be sure the stitches had held.

"Why didn't you tell me it was you?" Standish asked JD with a strange smile.

"What's he talkin' about?" Buck said in confusion.

The kid shrugged and patted the gambler on the shoulder. "I don't know, but I think his fever's down some."

Nathan bent down again to check. "I'll be damned, I think he's right. Come on, let's get him into some warm clothes and back into bed."

They moved quickly, packing Ezra back towards the clinic faster than JD could even get up off the floor. He stood and nodded to himself before following after them. He had done the right thing and Ezra had acknowledged him for it, and right now, that was the only person who's opinion really mattered.