Title: Just Get Me to the Next Town (Chapter 8 of ?)

Author: Phoenix1972

Universe: Old West

Rating: Teen

Summary: Judge Travis sends Chris Larabee and Ezra Standish to Denver to testify in court.

Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Moonlight slipped between the spaces of the boards that made up their temporary refuge. The light was welcome as it kept the darkness at bay, but the cold wind that blew through those same cracks was bone chilling. Many huddled together for comfort as much as for warmth and prayed for a speedy rescue.

Jerking awake, Ezra peered into the dimness and tried to discern what had pulled him from his fitful slumber. Before he could wrap his sleep deprived mind around it a chill racked his body. Pulling the blanket tighter about himself he breathed warm air into his hands and glanced into the corner Rupert had curled into. Chris's red-rimmed, dull green eyes stared back at him. Glancing at the pallet near his feet Ezra realized his eyes were not playing tricks on him and Chris had indeed moved into the corner. When and how were you able to do that without me being the wiser?

"What are you doing up?" Ezra asked the obviously exhausted gunslinger.

"Nightmares."

"You had a nightmare? Are you feverish?"

Shaking his head Chris whispered, "No. Rupert was having nightmares." Moving the blanket away Chris indicated the child who was curled into his uninjured side.

"Oh." Ezra peered at the blonde tuft of hair resting against Chris's chest. "You could have woken me."

"I was already awake. Besides, you need the sleep just as much as I do."

"Yes, but I am not as injured as you are."

Chris frowned and hissed, "Just drop it. We still have to get to Denver and we'll need you more when we have to travel."

Ezra watched Chris grimace in pain as Rupert whimpered and burrowed closer. "I'll take him now. He's obviously hurting you."

"Leave him be," Chris gritted out as he rubbed soothing circles on the child's back. "He'll settle down in a moment."

Knowing once Chris had set his cap on something it was no use trying to change his mind, Ezra crawled onto the empty pallet. Well, if Chris won't use it I will, no sense in letting a perfectly good pallet go to waste. After a few moments Ezra realized the pallet was just slightly more comfortable than the floor.

Ezra lay on the pallet listening to the people around him, a few were moaning or shifting restlessly where they lay, trying to get comfortable. Every once in a while he would hear Chris whispering to Rupert. Straining to hear what the gunslinger was saying he realized Chris was spinning some childhood tale in an effort to keep the nightmares at bay.

A hard kick in his back brought Ezra out of a deep sleep. Jerking upright he looked around for the culprit, he came face to face with Rupert. "Did you kick me?" Ezra asked incredulously.

"He told me too," Rupert frowned as he pointed back at Chris. "Tried to shake you awake but you were snorin' so loud people were starting to complain."

Rubbing at his sore back Ezra grouched, "I do not snore. It must have been someone else."

Rupert shrugged and quipped, "I was only doin' as I was told." Rupert bent down close to Ezra and whispered in Ezra's ear, "I don't think Mr. Chris is feeling too well. I was one hot potato sitting next to him. I asked if he was okay. He just said he was fine."

"Mr. Larabee has a tendency to be rather peckish when feeling under the weather. I'll check on him in a little bit," Ezra whispered back as he sat up a little straighter. Noticing the sky was lightening he pushed off his blanket. Standing up stiffly, he groaned when his back protested the hard bed he'd been sleeping on. Judge Travis was going to get an ear full when he finally laid eyes on the man. Stretching as far as he could, he sighed when his back cracked audibly. While stretching the remaining kinks out Mother Nature suddenly demanded his attention. Not wanting to brave the outside twice he asked Rupert, "Do you need to go?"

"Go? Where would I go?"

"No, do you need to go?" Ezra asked as quietly as he could.

It finally seemed to dawn on Rupert as to what Ezra was referring. "Oh. No I can hold it."

"Let's take care of it now so that we can give Mr. Larabee our full attention later," Ezra whispered and pulled the child to the entrance.

~o~

When Ezra and Rupert had returned to the impromptu camp, they found a large group of people milling around the central fire where the aroma of cooking meat was strong in the air. Ezra and Rupert's stomachs had set to growling and fifteen minutes of standing in line had earned them a small bowl to share at the fire. Knowing there was no way Chris could make it out to the fire Ezra had begged a small bowl to take back with the promise of a quick return.

"Do you think someone will come and get us soon?" Rupert asked as they neared the box car, "I really want to go home."

Placing the bowl safely away from the door Ezra grunted in pain as he lifted the child up into the car. "Help will be here before you know it, Young Rupert." Once he managed to get himself inside he snatched up the bowl and they wended their way through the injured and exhausted.

They found Chris lying in the corner on the pallet wrapped up in the three blankets, apparently sleeping. Setting the bowl down Ezra reached out and gently shook Chris's shoulder. "Mr. Larabee? Chris we have some hot stew for you."

Chris's red-rimmed eyes shot open and he reached for his gun. "Don't touch me," he growled darkly seemingly unaware of where he was.

"Chris, it's Rupert and I," Ezra whispered urgently as he pulled his hands away not wanting to startle the gunslinger. I never should have let you have your gun back, fevers and guns have never been good bed partners.

"I told you he wasn't feeling well," Rupert whispered by Ezra's ear as he moved to stand behind the gambler. "Is he gonna die like momma did?"

Ezra shook his head and patted Rupert on the leg. "No. I won't let that happen."

Chris ran a hand over his eyes and sighed, "Sorry. I must have drifted off and didn't realize it."

"That's quite all right." Ezra helped Chris to a sitting position and held out the bowl of stew. "Do you think you can eat some of this stew? Well, actually it's more like broth."

Squinting at the bowl held before him Chris rasped, "Not sure I can stomach that right now."

"You ought to try. You haven't had anything to eat since the day before yesterday and you left most of that on the tracks if you remember."

"Don't remind me." Chris swallowed convulsively before continuing. "Ezra, I don't feel well right now, maybe I can try later."

"If you're sure I'll just set it over here out of the way," Ezra replied with a concerned frown on his face. Chris must be feeling really bad if he just admitted to it.

Chris laid back on the pallet and pulled the blankets around his shoulders as he shivered violently.

Reaching out a tentative hand, Ezra lightly touched Chris's forehead. "You have a fever," Ezra sighed quietly and grabbed the blanket to pull it back. "Let me take a look at your side and see if that's what causing this."

"Just leave it be. All I need to do is get some sleep and I feel better," Chris croaked, tightening his hold on the blanket.

Pulling a little harder Ezra was able to take the blanket from Chris. "Rupert, my boy, would you kindly bring my bag over here. I need to tend to Mr. Larabee's wound. "

"Yes, sir. I can do that," Rupert crowed excitedly before moving around the two men and yanking at the bag. "Gosh, this thing sure is heavy."

"Do you need help?" Ezra asked without looking up from where he was removing the soiled bandage.

"I have it," Rupert huffed as he stumbled back to the two men. "Eww. That's gross. And look, it's got puss oozing out." Dropping the bag, Rupert leaned closer to look at the wound.

Glancing at Rupert, Ezra replied, "I can see that." Grabbing the carpet bag, Ezra pulled out bandages and the bourbon. "This is going to hurt, but I've got to clean it as best I can."

Draping an arm over his eyes Chris ground out, "Just be quick about it."

Taking a steadying breath Ezra set about the task of cleaning and bandaging the wound.

Chris jerked and moaned several times but said nothing.

After several minutes Rupert took a seat up near Chris's head and patted him on the shoulder, trying his best to offer words of comfort.

After what seemed an eternity, Ezra finished his task and as he sat back, letting out a long breath. "We really need a doctor. The bourbon is almost gone and you need proper pain management if you are to get any rest. And to top it all off, I'm worried about your leg. It hasn't been set yet. How do you even set an upper leg bone?"

"We'll have to do with what we have. Hopefully we'll be able to get out of here soon and find a doctor," Chris replied tiredly as he pulled the blanket up around his neck higher.

Ezra nodded and closed the bag. He sat there quietly wishing for the umpteenth time they'd never responded to Travis's telegram. Right now he could be sitting in the saloon enjoying an easy game of cards or having a savory lunch prepared by Inez. But instead he was sitting in a frozen box car with an injured friend and a child who'd just lost his mother. This was totally unfair and when he saw Judge Travis he was going to let him have it with both barrels.