It had all been harmless fun at first. It was a hot day and six of the members of Team Seven were gathered at Chris's ranch for a cookout to celebrate the closing of a difficult case. While they waited for Ezra to join them, Buck decided it was a good time to wash his pickup and coerced JD into helping him. In the end, there was more horseplay happening than actual washing.
No one could say how it happened, it was just an unfortunate series of events. Ezra pulled up just as JD snuck up behind Buck with the hose thoroughly soaking him. Buck took after him with the bucket of water intent on getting his revenge. What no one bargained on was how slippery the wet grass could be or Ezra walking by at just the wrong moment. Buck's feet skidded out from under him sending him careening into Ezra. The two men went down in a tangle of limbs. Afterwards, Buck told them all he heard was the dull thud as Ezra's head contacted a large rock in the ground.
He lay limp on top of Buck. It was only when Buck pushed him off to get up that they all saw the blood on his forehead. "Nathan, he's out cold," Buck had called out in a shaken voice. They'd all swung into action at Buck's words.
Numerous tests had been done at the hospital. Diagnoses of subdural hematoma, skull fracture, and traumatic brain injury had been made and a neurosurgeon consulted. A cautious approach was taken at first hoping Ezra's body would be able to absorb the bleeding without surgical intervention, but a seizure twelve hours later had meant surgery. Through it all, Ezra had yet to regain consciousness.
Despite many attempts, Maude Standish could not be found to be informed of her son's medical condition. It had come as no surprise to Ezra's friends. "Probably looking for the next man to fleece," Nathan had said sourly.
What had come as some surprise to everyone but Chris, was that Ezra had had papers drawn up naming Chris as his durable power of attorney for both medical and financial matters if he became incapacitated.
"He did it about a year ago," Chris explained to the others. "He was afraid of something happening and no one being able to reach Maude. He asked me to keep it private."
It fell to Chris to take care of every detail of Ezra's care. He was the one the doctors went to with updates and consent forms. He was the one to whom they explained that there was a chance that Ezra might never wake up or, if he did, he might never be the same because of brain damage. And he was the one they called when Ezra finally did wake up six weeks later.
He'd been showing signs of coming out of the coma for the past few days. Everyone had been cautiously optimistic and avoiding giving voice to their worst fears. After he started showing signs of waking, they'd all wanted to stay with him so he wouldn't regain consciousness by himself. Dr. Gorman, the neurosurgeon treating Ezra, had been adamant, though, that it could take several days and that they couldn't all sit around the hospital room for that time. So, they settled on shifts, so someone was with Ezra almost constantly. There were brief times when work pulled them all away, though. It was during one of those times that Ezra finally woke up.
"I'll be right there," Chris said then hung up the phone. He took a deep breath and let it out. They'd all been hoping for this day...and also dreading it if the doctor's warnings came true. He got up slowly and made his way to the door of his office. "Hospital called," he said getting everyone's attention.
"And..." Vin prompted when he didn't go on.
"Ezra's awake."
There was a whoop of joy from Buck. Josiah bowed his head whispering a quick prayer. It was Nathan who asked, "Did they say how he was."
Chris shook his head. "Just that he seems overwhelmed right now and they're doing tests. They really couldn't tell me more than that. I'm going to hospital now." As one, the other five all got up, but Chris held up a hand. "The nurse I spoke to specifically asked that we not all come."
The others weren't happy but consented. "Call us and let us know how he's doing," Vin said speaking for them all.
"As soon as I know," Chris promised.
M7 M7 M7 M7 M7 M7 M7
Even after he got to the hospital, Chris still had to wait nearly an hour and a half to find out any more information since they were still doing tests. He was pacing in Ezra's room when the nurse he'd spoken with on the phone, Nadia, came in to tell him that the tests were finished and Ezra would soon be back. She also told him Dr. Gorman was waiting in the floor consultation room to go over the test results with him.
He made his way to the small room where he'd met Dr. Gorman several times over the last six weeks. As soon as he opened the door and walked in, he had a feeling the news wasn't going to be good.
"Come in, Mr. Larabee," the doctor invited. When Chris had first met him, he'd been leery. The man had more of a disheveled, absent-minded professor look about him than competent neurosurgeon. Looks could be deceiving, Chris had soon learned. The man was one of the tops in his field and Chris had learned to trust him implicitly with Ezra's care.
He'd also learned how to read the man. Right now, he looked apprehensive. "How bad?" Chris asked as he took a seat across the table from the doctor.
Dr. Gorman shuffled the papers in front of him then closed them in a folder. "I won't sugarcoat it. As I've told you, Ezra's suffered a severe traumatic brain injury and there could be deficits because of it. The test results we have back so far indicate that there is. He's suffering from amnesia. His memories all seem to stop just after his sixth birthday. Not only that, but he firmly believes he is six. All of the tests we've done at this point confirm that, cognitively, he's on the level of a six-year-old. We'll be doing additional testing over the coming days but I believe we'll also find that both his gross motor and fine motor skills have regressed to that of a five- to six-year-old." He then proceeded to share with Chris the tests that were done, the outcomes and their meanings.
Once Dr. Gorman was done explaining the tests, Chris sucked in a deep breath. Of all the possibilities the doctor had tried to prepare him and the rest of the men for, this hadn't been one of them. "Is this permanent? Will he regain his memories?"
"Right now, I can't really say. I'd like to do some additional imaging as well as have him meet with a psychologist and physical and occupational therapists over the next few days. We'll be able to have a better picture of just how extensive the damage as well as what can be expected for recover. Over time, he may regain his memories. How much or how completely, though, is hard to say."
Hearing the news, Chris braced his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. He shook his head slightly before taking another deep breath and sitting back. "So, what do we do? Right now, what do we do?"
"Right now, just be there for him. It's all you can really do until we complete all testing and have a better grip on just where he is both cognitively and physcially. He's going to have remain inpatient for at least another week. After that, he may need to be moved to a convalescent facility that can deal with his deficits."
"No," Chris said adamantly. "He is not going to be locked up somewhere. I won't let that happen."
Dr. Gorman held up a hand to placate Chris. "There's still time before any decisions like that have to be made. Right now, would you like to see him?"
"Yeah...just...can I have a minute."
Dr. Gorman collected his files and stood. "Take all the time you need. I'll have one of the nurses come and get you in a little while and take you to his room."
"Yeah." Chris stood up and held his hand out to the doctor. "Thanks, Doc. I know you've been doing everything you can for him."
Five minutes after Dr. Gorman left, the door to the consultation room opened and Nadia poked her head in. "If you're ready, I can take you to Ezra now. They've finished getting him settled."
"Yeah."
Chris followed Nadia back to Ezra's room. "Dr. Gorman explained what you should expect," she asked.
"He did, but...um...how is he? I mean, how's he acting."
Nadia smiled slightly. "He's afraid but he's trying to hide it. He's also very confused. I'm sure Dr. Gorman explained that he thinks he's six years old."
Chris nodded. "Yeah. He said he can't remember anything after that."
"Well, he's having a little trouble reconciling the fact that he thinks he's six years old with being in an adult body."
"Has anyone explained to him what's happened?"
"I've tried and the other nursed. I'm just not sure if he understands it. He also keeps asking for his mother. He's really very sweet, though." Just before pushing the door to Ezra's room open, Nadian put out a hand to stop him. "You should know he probably won't know who you are."
"I assumed from everything the doctor and you have said." As Nadia pushed the door open, he composed himself. He'd have to do his best to hide what he was feeling right now.
He didn't know what he expected to see when he walked in, but Ezra looked the same as he always did other than his hair. The bandages from the surgery had been removed and his hair had started growing back after being shaved. It looked like he had a buzz cut.
He was sitting up in bed leaning over the table across his lap. He looked to be drawing. An IV running into his right hand forced him to hold the pencil in his left. It didn't look like he'd lost his ambidextrous ability. When he heard Nadia and Chris come in, he looked up.
"Hi, Ezra," Chris said softly as he approached the bed. He traded looks with Nadia. "Do you know who I am?"
Ezra slowly shook his head. He put the pencil down, folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "No," he said softly.
It was then that Chris saw it. There was a shyness he'd never seen before in the way Ezra had looked at him and the way he spoke. He was trembling slightly. Whether from fear or cold, Chris wasn't certain. He watched as he twisted his fingers in his lap and looked up at him through hooded eyes. There was a fragileness to Ezra that Chris had never seen before.
"My name is Chris. I'm your friend," Chris said with a comforting smile.
Ezra's eyes narrowed as he looked up at Chris. "How come I don't remember?"
Chris looked over to Nadia for help, but she just gave him a small nod that he should continue. "The doctor said it's because you hurt your head. Nadia said she talked with you about it."
Ezra briefly looked over to Nadia. "Uh. She said I'm really a grown up but can't remember 'cause I hurt my head." He picked up the pencil and went back to drawing. "Do you know where my mommy is?" he asked without looking at Chris.
It was the simple vocabulary that almost did Chris in. He was so used to Ezra using big words and he'd never heard him call Maude anything other than 'mother'. Even his accent was more pronounced. "Not right now, but we're looking for her so we can bring her here." He sat down on the side of the bed. He made sure to keep his movements slow and careful so as not to frighten the other man any more than he probably already was. "Do you mind if I stay here with you instead."
Again, Ezra nodded and briefly looked up. "Ok, Mr. Chris."
Chris smiled slightly at the name he was given. It was so much like Ezra's normal speech, but still so different. "Chris is fine. You don't have to call me mister."
"No, sir," Ezra responded as he shook his head. "My Daddy said it's not polite for me to call adults by their first name. He said I should always use mister…unless it's a lady. There's other stuff you call a lady. Daddy said it's not 'spectful. I should call you Mr. and your last name, but I don't know that, so I have to call you Mr. Chris."
The explanation gave Chris pause and he wondered if that was behind Ezra frequently addressing both him and the others by their last names with the mister honorific. "It's Larabee, but I think I'd like it better if you called me Mr. Chris instead of Mr. Larabee. Is that ok?"
Ezra looked thoughtful for moment before he shyly nodded. "It's a…a…compomise?"
"Compromise," Chris gently corrected. Ezra's difficulty with the bigger word was yet one more example of the changes. "And you're right. It is a compromise." He held out his hand. "Should we shake on it."
Ezra whispered the word 'compromise' several times and Chris knew he was committing the proper pronunciation to memory. After another little nod he held his hand out to Chris and they shook.
Settled on what Ezra would call him, Chris turned his attention to what his friend had been drawing. He'd become familiar with the sketches Ezra would often do when they were called to crime scenes. They were always highly detailed and precise. On occasion, he often used his talent outside of work. Last Christmas, he'd given the six sketches he'd done of them. They'd all marveled at how he'd captured each man's spirit.
The drawing Ezra was working on now lacked that detail and precision and was much more childlike in nature. However, the person Ezra had drawn bore a resemblance to Josiah. "Is this someone you know?" Chris asked hoping that Ezra would be able to answer. Instead, the younger man just shrugged.
"He's just a man." Ezra pushed the paper in Chris's direction. "Do you want it? Daddy used to hang my pictures in his office. Sometimes, Mommy put them on the refrigerator but that was before." He gave the paper another little push. "You could put it in your office, if you got one."
Chris took the paper and smiled at Ezra. "I'd love to hang this in my office." He grew concerned when Ezra started to rub his forehead and a pained, pinched look came to his face. "Is your head hurting?"
Immediately, Ezra's hand dropped to his lap and he started twisting his fingers again. "Little bit," he whispered.
"I'll let the nurse know and she can get you some medicine to make it feel better." As he got up from the bed, Chris realized that he'd yet to call the office and knew the others were probably getting ready to come to the hospital themselves and see how Ezra was. In the condition he was in, that was probably the last thing that he needed. He could let the nurse know that Ezra needed something for pain and call the office. "I also need to make a phone call, so I need to go outside for a little while."
"No," Ezra shouted and made a grab for Chris's wrist. "Don't leave me, Mr. Chris." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm scared."
Chris quickly sat back on the bed and grabbed Ezra's shoulders. "Hey. It's ok. I'm not going to leave. It'll be a for just a little while then I'll come right back. I promise." Remembering how his son was when he was six and how things like 'little while' didn't mean the same thing to a six-year-old that it does to an adult, he took off his watch. "Do you know how to tell time?"
"The big hand is minutes, and the little hand is hours," Ezra confidently said.
"Right." Chris took Ezra's left wrist and put the watch on it. "Now I'm only going to be outside for fifteen minutes. See how the big hand is on the two? When it gets to the five, that means it's been fifteen minutes. You think you'll be ok for that long."
Ezra examined the watch for a few seconds then nodded. "Ok…but you'll be back when the big hand is on the five."
"I will. I promise," Chris said solemnly.
Reassured that Ezra would be ok while he was gone, Chris got up from the side of the bed and left the room. Once he was outside, he leaned against the wall, buried his face in his hands and let out a sigh. How did tell the others about this? How did he prepare them for this?
Author's note: Since I've now been asked several times...No. I am not Jean Williams, nor do I know who she is. I was told she passed away some years ago. Additionally, I have not read her story by the same name as my story. Any similarities would be purely coincidental. Age regression/de-aging is a trope used in a lot of fanfiction. Second Childhood is a popular title for such stories. Most of the ideas I'm using in the fic are recycled from an unpublished Quantum Leap fic and unpublished Stargate: SG1 fic that I began but have not finished.