"Ezra!!!! Ezra!!!"
The voice continued, each utterance of his name was a long, high-pitched, panic filled wail that seemed to cling to his eardrums longer than normal and stabbed into his side over and over again.
Not to mention the uncomfortable bed he was lying on, or the chomping near his head, or the rude shaking. This was altogether intolerable. Was this his wake up call?
"Ezra, get up please!!"
Now they . . . whoever they were . . . . were reduced to begging. Was it that important that he get up?
There was pain though.
He could feel it, waiting there on the edge of consciousness, as a warning that he shouldn't break through the darkness.
The voice was familiar, and the begging was making his mind uncomfortable. It wasn't right. That voice shouldn't sound so panicked, so frightened. Something was wrong and he had to find out what.
First things first. Open the eyes.
JD's panicked mind quieted slightly when he saw Ezra's eyes open, but then they blinked closed and he scooted further forward, putting his hands on Ezra's cheeks.
"No. You have to wake up. Please wake up."
They fluttered again and opened and Ezra looked confused for a moment before he clamped the eyes shut again and groaned softly.
"Please Ezra?" JD whispered, his mouth close to the agent's ear.
Whenever he was that close he knew he was supposed to be quiet. But if it didn't work JD was going to shout.
Thankfully, for Ezra's sake, it worked. The eyes opened and Ezra looked at JD and frowned. The pain hit him a split second later and his knees automatically jerked up and towards his chest, his hand flying down to the source of pain. God it hurt.
He could feel the sticky wetness and remembered with sudden clarity how it had gotten there and why he was so intent on torturing himself by remaining conscious.
He fought a scream of pain and rode out the pain, the feeling of small hands on his cheeks reminding him that he
was not alone.
Even a grown man needed to know that from time to time.
"JD . . " he managed and grabbed one of the hands gently, his other hand clamping down on the bleeding again.
He hissed at the pain and waited until it died a little before he tried anything else.
He couldn't frighten the kid. He just had to remember that.
"Where's Vin?"
JD's already teary-eyes looked on the brink of another fall out but he choked them back. He had to be big now. "He went, he went with a horse. To get help. To find Daddy Chris."
He left. He left. He left.
There was no other way to explain it. JD had woken up and had it not been for the solid heartbeat under his ear he would have been alone.
And scared.
And probably would have died.
Of fear.
He didn't like being alone. And Buck had promised him he would never be left alone again. So far Buck's promise had held true.
Ezra blinked a couple of times. Dragged in a labored breath, than another. Fighting each flare of pain until he had a handle on things. Or at least a glimpse of the handle.
"It's OK. JD."
He raised a shaky hand and turned the boy's face towards his own. JD had to know. It was OK.
"It'll be . . . .OK."
JD nodded. Trusting. Ezra smiled. That was good.
Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.
Vin was going for help. That was good. It was a good idea to go for help. He wished that Vin had taken JD, so JD at least wouldn't have to stay here.
Maybe Vin had tried to.
He'd have to ask Vin about that.
* * *
The small hand in his jerked a little and Ezra turned his head as fast as he could to look at JD. Wondering what had caused the sudden change. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. The brown eyes were still closed, the boy still appeared asleep. He must have just reacted to a bad dream.
Another breath.
It hurt.
Not terribly.
The pain had died since the initial moment in which the injury had been inflicted. If he could just close his eyes, go to sleep for a bit.
The pain would be gone entirely.
He'd be floating in that same sweet abyss he found himself in so often. He shouldn't have found himself in that often . . .
Stay awake. But he didn't want to. He wanted desperately to sleep.
To be able to wake up the next day and have forgotten about this one. He wished for it not to have happened.
"Uncle Ezra . . .?"
The soft hopeful voice reached him and he blinked desperately, turning pain- filled eyes towards JD.
The boy had sat up and scooted forward a few inches, his face not far from Ezra's.
"Is you gonna be all right?"
The concern and fear in JD's eyes was enough to break down the wall that was holding back his own fears, the emotions he wanted to express, and the pain he couldn't control.
"As . . . soon as Vin . . . gets back. We are going . . . to visit the hospital, and then . . .I will take you . . .both . . .for ice cream."
The pain pulsed against him, his body rejecting the idea but his mind held firm.
He tried to smile and lifted the arm JD had been resting against, placing the palm against the boy's face.
"I promise."
He had to get up. He had to sit up.
To do something so that he wasn't falling asleep.
Leaning against at tree even. The movement sounded barbaric, and he truly wondered if he was a masochist for perhaps the fourteenth time.
"In fact . . ." He started, trying to push himself up off the ground.
Even the slightest movement jarred the strange sensations in his body and mind, not liking being messed with.
JD seemed to see this, somehow understanding the importance of getting up. Or perhaps emphasizing that Ezra should get up.
He grabbed hold of one arm and pulled up, bringing Ezra to a sitting position faster, however . . . the efficiency of the move was questionable.
Ezra paled, taking a moment. Then another moment, then a full minute. What the hell, time had no meaning in this little corner of the world so he could take as much time that he wanted he figured.
He didn't know how, but he found himself, not too long after, sitting against the trunk of a gnarled oak, panting like a sick dog and fighting the forces of gravity . . . and soon winning.
JD was gone for some reason then came back with a few drops of water left in his hands. He splashed them against Ezra's face trying to make him be awake.
Ezra struggled through the fog and eventually was the victor; again clamping a hand down on the freshly bleeding wound then focusing on JD.
It was then that he finished the thought.
"Would you like to play some hockey?"
JD was now convinced that Ezra had lost it. He turned big brown eyes up at his Uncle, the look of disbelief and worry plain on his face.
"I don' have any skates."
There was a silence in that part of the park for a moment, Ezra trying to digest what the boy had just said. Or understand the meaning why.
Finally he grinned.
Halfway between a grimace and a smile and dug into his pants pocket pulling out three or four
quarters and a nickel.
"Hockey."
He said quietly flopping the coins down in the dirt and positioning a poised index finger in front of one, flicking it
towards one of JD's hands. He straightened his torso enough to take a deep breath, then sagged against the tree and closed his eyes.
"Hockey . . . "
JD watched the movement of the coin, then blinked up at Ezra. He seemed intent on playing the game so JD tried to copy the movement, only succeeding in slamming his finger into the ground. He tried again, and got the same result, but on the third try the coin went flying, pinged off the tree trunk and disappeared in the grass.
JD grinned up at Ezra, who was awake amazingly and smiled back tiredly. And thus the game began. It was slow progress however.
Ezra's movements becoming more and more sluggish,
JD's more proficient but erratic.
More often than not JD would have to jump up and hunt down the 'puck' before the game could commence, and many times his little excursion would prove fruitful in finding other small trinkets of interest.
The entire time Ezra watched with rapt fascination. He had become cold not to long ago, and unknowing his hand had fallen from it's duty of applying pressure. The bleeding had slowed, but not stopped. And every pulse of his heart drained him further.
He was blissfully unaware however. Watching JD seem to forget the severity of the situation. Or the fact that they were stranded. His plan ultimately had worked. The only drawback was the longer they waited the more times he found himself forgetting, falling asleep, or trying to keel over.
He was grateful that the pain left him but he wasn't too sure about the alternative. There was a pressure in his chest that made it hard to breathe, to think, to move. Even to think about moving. And the tiredness that was dragging his eyelids down every second was driving him nuts.
He moved his eyes from their spot on the ground and searched the part of the park he could see. He realized JD hadn't returned from his latest sojourn.
His brain automatically tried to get his body in motion.
His legs jerked and he straightened slightly. Pain revisited him in a most unsatisfactory way and he groaned. Moving
his head listlessly he tried to work moisture back into his mouth.
Moving wouldn't work.
Not yet.
He tried calling for him.
Getting nothing out of his mouth but a whisper. And already he was gasping for breath.
He cursed his body. Wishing for once it would simply do what it was told to and nothing more. Moving his arms he found a way to get to his stomach, and stayed there until he could no longer feel the pain. Then started crawling forward.
Inch by inch.
He made it ten feet from the tree before he saw JD racing towards him. His eyes closed and he sank down to the ground. Not even registering the graying, balding man behind the young boy.
The voice continued, each utterance of his name was a long, high-pitched, panic filled wail that seemed to cling to his eardrums longer than normal and stabbed into his side over and over again.
Not to mention the uncomfortable bed he was lying on, or the chomping near his head, or the rude shaking. This was altogether intolerable. Was this his wake up call?
"Ezra, get up please!!"
Now they . . . whoever they were . . . . were reduced to begging. Was it that important that he get up?
There was pain though.
He could feel it, waiting there on the edge of consciousness, as a warning that he shouldn't break through the darkness.
The voice was familiar, and the begging was making his mind uncomfortable. It wasn't right. That voice shouldn't sound so panicked, so frightened. Something was wrong and he had to find out what.
First things first. Open the eyes.
JD's panicked mind quieted slightly when he saw Ezra's eyes open, but then they blinked closed and he scooted further forward, putting his hands on Ezra's cheeks.
"No. You have to wake up. Please wake up."
They fluttered again and opened and Ezra looked confused for a moment before he clamped the eyes shut again and groaned softly.
"Please Ezra?" JD whispered, his mouth close to the agent's ear.
Whenever he was that close he knew he was supposed to be quiet. But if it didn't work JD was going to shout.
Thankfully, for Ezra's sake, it worked. The eyes opened and Ezra looked at JD and frowned. The pain hit him a split second later and his knees automatically jerked up and towards his chest, his hand flying down to the source of pain. God it hurt.
He could feel the sticky wetness and remembered with sudden clarity how it had gotten there and why he was so intent on torturing himself by remaining conscious.
He fought a scream of pain and rode out the pain, the feeling of small hands on his cheeks reminding him that he
was not alone.
Even a grown man needed to know that from time to time.
"JD . . " he managed and grabbed one of the hands gently, his other hand clamping down on the bleeding again.
He hissed at the pain and waited until it died a little before he tried anything else.
He couldn't frighten the kid. He just had to remember that.
"Where's Vin?"
JD's already teary-eyes looked on the brink of another fall out but he choked them back. He had to be big now. "He went, he went with a horse. To get help. To find Daddy Chris."
He left. He left. He left.
There was no other way to explain it. JD had woken up and had it not been for the solid heartbeat under his ear he would have been alone.
And scared.
And probably would have died.
Of fear.
He didn't like being alone. And Buck had promised him he would never be left alone again. So far Buck's promise had held true.
Ezra blinked a couple of times. Dragged in a labored breath, than another. Fighting each flare of pain until he had a handle on things. Or at least a glimpse of the handle.
"It's OK. JD."
He raised a shaky hand and turned the boy's face towards his own. JD had to know. It was OK.
"It'll be . . . .OK."
JD nodded. Trusting. Ezra smiled. That was good.
Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.
Vin was going for help. That was good. It was a good idea to go for help. He wished that Vin had taken JD, so JD at least wouldn't have to stay here.
Maybe Vin had tried to.
He'd have to ask Vin about that.
* * *
The small hand in his jerked a little and Ezra turned his head as fast as he could to look at JD. Wondering what had caused the sudden change. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. The brown eyes were still closed, the boy still appeared asleep. He must have just reacted to a bad dream.
Another breath.
It hurt.
Not terribly.
The pain had died since the initial moment in which the injury had been inflicted. If he could just close his eyes, go to sleep for a bit.
The pain would be gone entirely.
He'd be floating in that same sweet abyss he found himself in so often. He shouldn't have found himself in that often . . .
Stay awake. But he didn't want to. He wanted desperately to sleep.
To be able to wake up the next day and have forgotten about this one. He wished for it not to have happened.
"Uncle Ezra . . .?"
The soft hopeful voice reached him and he blinked desperately, turning pain- filled eyes towards JD.
The boy had sat up and scooted forward a few inches, his face not far from Ezra's.
"Is you gonna be all right?"
The concern and fear in JD's eyes was enough to break down the wall that was holding back his own fears, the emotions he wanted to express, and the pain he couldn't control.
"As . . . soon as Vin . . . gets back. We are going . . . to visit the hospital, and then . . .I will take you . . .both . . .for ice cream."
The pain pulsed against him, his body rejecting the idea but his mind held firm.
He tried to smile and lifted the arm JD had been resting against, placing the palm against the boy's face.
"I promise."
He had to get up. He had to sit up.
To do something so that he wasn't falling asleep.
Leaning against at tree even. The movement sounded barbaric, and he truly wondered if he was a masochist for perhaps the fourteenth time.
"In fact . . ." He started, trying to push himself up off the ground.
Even the slightest movement jarred the strange sensations in his body and mind, not liking being messed with.
JD seemed to see this, somehow understanding the importance of getting up. Or perhaps emphasizing that Ezra should get up.
He grabbed hold of one arm and pulled up, bringing Ezra to a sitting position faster, however . . . the efficiency of the move was questionable.
Ezra paled, taking a moment. Then another moment, then a full minute. What the hell, time had no meaning in this little corner of the world so he could take as much time that he wanted he figured.
He didn't know how, but he found himself, not too long after, sitting against the trunk of a gnarled oak, panting like a sick dog and fighting the forces of gravity . . . and soon winning.
JD was gone for some reason then came back with a few drops of water left in his hands. He splashed them against Ezra's face trying to make him be awake.
Ezra struggled through the fog and eventually was the victor; again clamping a hand down on the freshly bleeding wound then focusing on JD.
It was then that he finished the thought.
"Would you like to play some hockey?"
JD was now convinced that Ezra had lost it. He turned big brown eyes up at his Uncle, the look of disbelief and worry plain on his face.
"I don' have any skates."
There was a silence in that part of the park for a moment, Ezra trying to digest what the boy had just said. Or understand the meaning why.
Finally he grinned.
Halfway between a grimace and a smile and dug into his pants pocket pulling out three or four
quarters and a nickel.
"Hockey."
He said quietly flopping the coins down in the dirt and positioning a poised index finger in front of one, flicking it
towards one of JD's hands. He straightened his torso enough to take a deep breath, then sagged against the tree and closed his eyes.
"Hockey . . . "
JD watched the movement of the coin, then blinked up at Ezra. He seemed intent on playing the game so JD tried to copy the movement, only succeeding in slamming his finger into the ground. He tried again, and got the same result, but on the third try the coin went flying, pinged off the tree trunk and disappeared in the grass.
JD grinned up at Ezra, who was awake amazingly and smiled back tiredly. And thus the game began. It was slow progress however.
Ezra's movements becoming more and more sluggish,
JD's more proficient but erratic.
More often than not JD would have to jump up and hunt down the 'puck' before the game could commence, and many times his little excursion would prove fruitful in finding other small trinkets of interest.
The entire time Ezra watched with rapt fascination. He had become cold not to long ago, and unknowing his hand had fallen from it's duty of applying pressure. The bleeding had slowed, but not stopped. And every pulse of his heart drained him further.
He was blissfully unaware however. Watching JD seem to forget the severity of the situation. Or the fact that they were stranded. His plan ultimately had worked. The only drawback was the longer they waited the more times he found himself forgetting, falling asleep, or trying to keel over.
He was grateful that the pain left him but he wasn't too sure about the alternative. There was a pressure in his chest that made it hard to breathe, to think, to move. Even to think about moving. And the tiredness that was dragging his eyelids down every second was driving him nuts.
He moved his eyes from their spot on the ground and searched the part of the park he could see. He realized JD hadn't returned from his latest sojourn.
His brain automatically tried to get his body in motion.
His legs jerked and he straightened slightly. Pain revisited him in a most unsatisfactory way and he groaned. Moving
his head listlessly he tried to work moisture back into his mouth.
Moving wouldn't work.
Not yet.
He tried calling for him.
Getting nothing out of his mouth but a whisper. And already he was gasping for breath.
He cursed his body. Wishing for once it would simply do what it was told to and nothing more. Moving his arms he found a way to get to his stomach, and stayed there until he could no longer feel the pain. Then started crawling forward.
Inch by inch.
He made it ten feet from the tree before he saw JD racing towards him. His eyes closed and he sank down to the ground. Not even registering the graying, balding man behind the young boy.
