They didn't hurry over, none of the men being in any rush to get to what was waiting for them. Knowing something was going to happen was different than being there when it did, and the knowledge that Nathan was with Ezra meant he wasn't going to die alone. They also all knew that really wasn't enough, wasn't what he deserved. The revelation seemed to come to all five at the same time, and they picked up their speed, with JD being the first to climb the stairs.
"We still in time?" the young man asked as he entered, being pushed ahead gently as the others followed.
"Sure are." There was a look on Nathan's face they hadn't seen in several days. Josiah was the first to get up the courage to ask what it meant.
"He's hurting." Nathan answered.
Vin frowned. "Just why would you be taking pleasure in that? Hasn't he been through enough?"
"Vin. He's hurting. He's feeling pain. He feeling something." It took a moment for the significance to register.
"You said he couldn't feel anything anymore."
"Said I figured he couldn't. All things considered, he shouldn't be aware of anything going on, but when I saw that he was tensed up some, I started thinking maybe I figured wrong. Checked at his eyes. When you put the light near, they react. They weren't doing that before."
"Nathan," Chris spoke with caution, "you're telling us he's ok?"
The healer looked back at his patient then at the hopeful faces around him. "I'm telling you I think the problem in his head basically took care of itself. I still say there was bleeding – had to be with the way he's been out. But it might not have been as bad as I thought, and with the rest and quiet, it healed up." He held up a hand before the celebrations could begin. "That doesn't mean this is over."
"But if he's getting better…?" JD wanted to start dancing in the streets, and didn't like the last sentence Nathan spoke.
"Like I said, he's tensed up. Some of that is pain. Some of it may be whatever his mind is dealing with, and how it's coping. Lots of folks, when they wake up after a coma, talk about nightmares and thinking they were dead, or dying. It's hard to know what he's going through."
Josiah could hear what wasn't being said. "You think whatever happened may have caused trouble."
"I hate to say it, but there is good reason to think so. It's been four days since he so much as blinked. On top of the head problems, he's got the rest of the injuries as well. A body can only take so much without breaking down some, and until he wakes up, we can't say how bad things might be."
Vin latched on to the one optimistic word in the sentence. "You said 'until'. So he is going to wake up?"
"At this point, I'd say things are fifty/fifty on that, but since I wasn't giving him a chance in hell before, that's pretty good. And the way he manages to keep beating the odds, nothing would surprise me anymore. We need to make sure we keep getting water into him, and some of the teas and broth. Try to build up his strength."
JD started out the door. "I'll get to the diner – get him some of the soup to start with." His enthusiasm wasn't about to be tempered by the cautious concerns Nathan was expressing. The rest of the team was fighting to remain realistic about the options as well but given this was the first moment of hope in days, they weren't entirely successful.
"Shouldn't we be leaving him in more peace and quiet than this?" Josiah offered.
"For now. I want to check him over. See about reflexes and reactions, so yeah, be a good idea to let us alone for a bit. We need to keep up the vigil though. Even more important now. Talking to him might help to wake him up."
Buck slapped Chris on the back. "You're gonna have to figure out how to keep talking for your shift cowboy. That's gonna be hard on you." Like JD, he refused to accept the idea this wasn't all going to work out. As a result, he was grinning so broadly his cheeks hurt, and didn't care that he was getting a scowl at his comments.
"I can figure a way. Just tell him about the trouble you keep managing to get yourself into. And I thought I told you…"
"Yeah, not to call you cowboy." The men were chuckling as they left, more the result of a release of tension than of any real humour. Josiah lingered behind and moved next to the bed, just a few steps from Nathan.
"What chance is there that it will be our Ezra waking up?" Nathan looked up, started by the question. It was one he really had hoped not to be asked. "I've had some experience in the past with people who have been damaged, either physically or emotionally. They are not the same, and mere existence inside an institution would not be a choice our gambling friend would make."
Despite the desire to avoid the reality, Nathan couldn't lie about this. "It's not a choice he has. I can't say what kind of damage may or may not have happened Josiah. We can't know that until he can tell us."
"Or can't tell us. You do realize the life sentence you are subjecting him to if things are less than ideal?"
"What do you want me to do about Josiah? I can't change things."
Josiah stood quietly, thinking of the mischievous smile and sparkling wit that Ezra favoured them with on a daily basis. The love of language, the thrill of the action, the calculating manner in which every aspect of his life was laid out. The notion that the man who loved living in that style would be reduced to a shell that had no such spirit or will remaining tore at his heart.
"If that proves to be the circumstance his is left in, I need you to make me a promise."
"I many not be a doctor Josiah, but I know the oath. Do no harm. I won't violate that."
The big man shook his head vehemently. "And I would never ask you to. Would never ask that of any man. I assume that you would recommend he be moved to a facility that can care for him in such a state."
"You know about such places?"
"As I indicated, I have had reason in my life to become familiar with them." Josiah didn't share details, and Nathan knew better than to pry.
"If things were that bad, that he couldn't stay here, then yeah, that would be the best thing for him. Ain't saying I like it, just that it would be the way to deal with it."
"My request then is simple: that you make sure, by whatever means you can, that I will be the one to escort him."
Nathan didn't like the way the conversation had turned. "Why do you want to do that?"
There was a brief hesitation as Josiah chose his words carefully. "To ensure that Ezra is given the chance to deal with this turn in the manner he would choose for himself. To ensure his final destination would be acceptable to him."
"What I can promise you Josiah, is that if things come to that point, all of us are going to do what is best of him, and we can talk about that if we need to. Right now, I'm gonna do what I can to make sure we don't have to have that talk."
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Buck paced the small space so often he was beginning to work a groove into the flooring. Patience had never been a virtue of his. In truth, there were few virtues he could boast of. But after nearly four days of waiting for Ezra to die, spending three more days waiting for him to wake up had worn down his last nerve.
"Damn it Ezra, this isn't funny. We have things to be doing, and this is just not helping on that score. I haven't been over to Miss Callie's place since all of this started. Well that just ain't right for a man to go that long without company. Least, not this man. But with patrols, and sitting with you, and worrying and all. Well, point is, you need to wake up, so I can get back to my normal way of dealing with…things."
"If I didn't hear it, I wouldn't have believed it. You're yelling at an unconscious man because you haven't been able to avail yourself of the company of any ladies for a week?" Chris stared in disbelief. "Even for you, that's over the top."
"Man's got needs Chris."
"Well, don't let a little thing like this interfere with your urges Wilmington. I'm sure Ezra would understand your priorities."
The two men stared each other down, with Buck understandably being the first to back down. "It ain't priorities Chris. You know that. I just can't take sitting here, watching him. I keep figuring the longer he sleeps, the less likely he is to wake up."
Larabee signed deeply. He understood at least some of the frustration. "Nathan keeps trying to tell me it's the opposite. The more he sleeps, the more he's healing. Sure looks better."
That fact couldn't be disputed. The bruising had faded to pale purples and a sickening, but healing, shade of yellow. The swelling had also lessened considerably, to the point that Ezra actually looked almost like himself again. There was still blisters from the sunburn, but they too were showing signs of fading away, and looked like scarring would be minimal. His broken hand had been immobilized, his ribs re-taped and bandages on the other cuts, scrapes and torn skin were no longer tinged with his blood.
Adding to the muted optimism was the fact he had become, on occasion, restless. Nothing substantial, but there was movement. JD had been with him the first time Ezra seemed to be showing signs of coming back and summoned the others by screaming for Nathan from the window. It quickly looked like half the town was gathered below, waiting for news. The expectation was premature.
"Can't know whether it was dreaming or reacting to the pain. But it's a good sign. Every step forward is a good sign." There were more signs. More restless twitches, low moans and even the occasional mumbled sound. Small moments that gave glimpses of hope that, to date, had failed to come to fruition.
"Go on Buck. Go get yourself some fresh air – or whatever else you need. Don't imagine Ezra would want to be the cause of you straining yourself from too much control."
"You two don't hold it down in hear I'm gonna kick you both out." Nathan had come up the stairs when he heard the commotion. The looks of contrition seemed genuine enough that he didn't see the need to go any further with he lecture. He made his move instead toward the bed to check on his patient and stopped two steps later. "Ezra?" He looked down at the green eyes looking back up at him. "You hear me Ezra?"
Buck and Chris froze in place, waiting to hear the sweet southern drawl. For close to half a minute, no one moved. Finally Nathan pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat, taking Ezra's hand. "Can you hear me Ezra?" Buck and Chris both moved closer, but Nathan silenced them with a glance.
"Ezra, I want you to watch my finger." He moved his hand into Ezra's line of sight, holding it still, waiting for a sign that his request had been heard. A moment later he lowered his hand when Ezra closed his eyes.
He spoke before either man could question him. "Doesn't mean anything bad. He could be still waking up. Opening his eyes and being aware of what's going on don't necessarily happen at the same time."
"He didn't even know we were here." Chris argued.
"I'm not willing to say that yet. You have to keep in mind that every step forward is a bit of a miracle. We just have to take them one at a time is all."
Buck sat on the spare bed, his eyes not leaving Ezra's face. "Don't think we should tell the others. If this don't mean anything, there's no point getting there hopes up. And if it does mean something, then it will happen again. Guess this means we just gotta be more patient. We all know how much Ezra likes to sleep.
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tbc