Right. So I'm going to put the full addy for the fic "Alternate Universes" in a review for this chapter. No one's asked for it yet, but I'll put it up anyway just in case (I know the directions were probably confusing and annoying, but since ffdotnet won't let addies show up in chapters… this will have to do.
Next order of business: this chapter has NO CONNECTION to the previous chapter– it is still based on Angie's fic, only these two AUs are entirely separate. The concept is that because this AU switching happened in two universes, it caused a disturbance in two completely different universes as well (there will be no little Vin or JD; the only one changing will be Ezra). I always questioned the "what about Ezra" thing, but since it wasn't in the original concept I wasn't going to attempt it. Since I got reviews suggesting that and since I was already thinking about it anyway, here it is…
Children (er... Child)Again: Ezra Version
by Ami-chan
The warehouse had turned up nothing at all. They had hoped something would show up, but there had been no luck whatsoever. Ezra was extremely bored now and was contemplating what he was going to do for lunch as it was well past noon and he was rather hungry. He'd yet to eat – he was not a morning person and even if he had been he simply couldn't stomach eating in the mornings anyway – so the sooner they decided that yes, there really was nothing of interest here, the better.
That's when the strangest thing happened. He felt a sharp pain rush through him as if a blunt object had stuck him suddenly and his vision went completely black.
Groggily he began to come around, wondering why he had the feeling that his head had exploded and been put back together again. He heard voices, loud voices, vaguely in the distance, but whatever they were saying didn't make any sense to him at all. He became aware of something hard and unyielding pressed against his back and side and when he managed to pry open his eyes he recognized the "thing" as a "wall". It felt cold against him and Ezra couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Before he could, however, the voices got louder.
A large hand wrapped around his shirt and dragged him to his feet. What? Some sort of giant? He was being asked something, but he couldn't find the presence of mind to concentrate on the words enough to understand what was being asked, let along form any sort of response. Apparently that was not a good thing. He was shaken, several times, and he was fairly sure the hands that were wrapped around his arms were going to bruise – he'd always bruised very easily anyway.
He was hauled from the room and Ezra began to wonder if it was his imagination or if a woman really was screaming and if she was, why? That's when he was slammed into something rather hard and sharp. For a moment the word "table" flashed through his mind and then everything went black again.
When Ezra came to yet again he knew that there was definitely a woman talking to him, cooing over him softly, "Sweetie, darling, you know if you just talked at all it would be a lot better, don't you? If you just said something? It doesn't have to be like this, Tom wouldn't get so angry, you know?"
For a moment when he opened his eyes, he was sure she was some sort of giant and though he was fairly sure he hadn't climbed any beanstalks or taken any shrinking potions lately, that was the best his addled mind could come up with. Then it began to sink in that she wasn't a giant. Ezra was just very small. As soon as his dizziness had passed he pushed himself away from her and wandered through the halls of the unfamiliar house until he happened across what looked like a bathroom. The mirror over the sink was too high for him to see into, but he managed to unsteadily crawl up onto the sink and stare at his own reflection.
A pint-sized Ezra stared back at him and all the horrifying memories from his childhood came flowing into his mind. He had no idea where he was or who he was with. Oh, little feathered gods, he was in deep shit. What was he going to do now? He had to get out of here – what had happened? He needed to find someone – someone – who? There was only one real answer to that.
Making sure no one was around to see him, he snuck out the door. It seemed to be the back door, but as it lead outside it hardly mattered. He made his way to the sidewalk outside without incident and hurriedly trotted over to the corner and looked up. He knew that street sign, knew the coloring, the words. Ezra Standish knew exactly where he was. He was still in Denver, which meant that it was possible that he was the only one affected by whatever malady had overcome him.
Which meant it was all the more important that he find Chris Larabee and figure out what the hell was going on! However, it was a long walk to his ranch and he had no money for a cab fare. Or, to be more precise, he had no money at all.
Ezra took a deep breath. He wasn't going to let something like an impossibly long walk get to him. But, he had no plan and nothing of value. Turning his attention back to the unfamiliar house he crept back inside and found a small child's backpack. An exploration of the kitchen found bottle water and apples, which he quickly stuffed inside. Nosing around a bit more he found a jar of change and a few small bills and took a good deal of it before heading right back out on silent, careful feet.
He located the nearest bus stop and waited. After taking the bus to the stop nearest the direction to the ranch he got off and began trudging in the right direction. The farther out he got the more important it was for him not to be visible on the road – a child walking along a sidewalk in front of a house wasn't unusual, but a child walking all by himself in the middle of nowhere was. Ezra kept the road in sight, knowing very well how easily he might get lost without any visible markers.
He made no stops along the way, though he drank some of the water at intervals to keep himself hydrated. Ezra found he was not in the least bit hungry. Something about blacking out multiple times and changing into a child had made him lose his appetite. Despite his pace it was full dark by the time he stumbled across the familiar turnoff to Chris's ranch. Every part of him ached, but he managed to crawl to the front door and reach up to ring the doorbell before he crumpled onto the doorstop.
When the door opened he lifted his head and saw the confusion on Chris's face at the apparent lack of anyone who might have rung his doorbell. Ezra made a sound. It was barely a squeak because he felt too tired to articulate himself properly, but it was enough. Chris jumped in surprise and stared down at him for a long time. Didn't Chris recognize him? Hadn't he wondered what had happened? Oh, why wasn't his mind functioning correctly?
"Kid." Then Chris was reaching down and picking him up. He whined softly, his body protesting and then he simply went limp against him. It was nice being held and comforted when he was so utterly confused and lost and – had Chris called him KID? "Hey, you hungry?"
Ezra mustered enough energy to shake his head no. If he ate anything he was very certain he would only throw it up again.
"Let's get you cleaned up first and then maybe you'll be hungry, all right?" Ezra found himself being settled into a plush chair that was much larger than he remembered it being before and only half heard Chris mention something about a bath. It did sound good. He felt itchy all over. Stupid grass and trees and the evils of the outdoors – it made him wonder why anyone would enjoy camping at all unless they were masochists. He heard the water running and then Chris's voice again, speaking softly, which was what caught his attention so quickly. "Yes, Nettie, I know what time it is and I'm sorry to disturb you, but you remember that kid? Yeah… well, he just showed up at my house." Pause. "Yeah, I know. I have no idea either." Pause. "Yeah, that will be fine. All right. See you in the morning."
So now he was a kid that some lady named Nettie was supposed to know? Who was this Nettie? He hoped, very much so, that she wasn't the lady he had seen before. He had no desire to go back there with that horrid man that had likely left very painful bruises on him.
He'd almost fallen asleep by the time Chris had returned, but the sound of footsteps made him force himself into some semblance of awareness. Distantly he heard Chris mention a bath again and he was once more picked up. Ezra winced a bit as his bruised skin was accidentally touched though he was far too tired to protest much. It occurred to him that he should attempt to undress himself except that the minute he was set down he swayed precariously on his feet. Had he been more awake he would have been appalled by the fact that Chris Larabee, his boss, was going to help him take a bath. Except that he was a child at the moment. Did that make a difference? Minor details.
A sharp in take of breath made Ezra force his eyes to focus on Chris, who was staring at him. Or, rather, staring at his back. Chris forced a smile when he noticed his gaze, then lifted him into the tub. Ezra could have died then and been perfectly happy, the warm water was impossibly soothing. He took a moment to appreciate the fact that Chris was washing all the dirt and grime off of him and decided that his son must have been one lucky boy. Having never had any real father figure (or at least not one he could look up to or respect), it was surprisingly nice –
He mentally smacked himself. Chris was his boss! He was not going to have "daddy" fantasizes now, not about him. Hell, he wasn't even gay! But, it wasn't about being gay at all, it was about having someone he could trust, someone he didn't mind taking care of him. Hadn't Chris done that to him before when he had been injured on the job? Hadn't he been there in the past when he thought no one else had given a damn?
"Did someone hurt you?" It was asked softly, as if not wanting to alarm him. Not that Ezra was all that alarmed, not being conscious enough to be alarmed. He nodded his head as he fought off a yawn. "Was it your foster parents?"
Foster parents? He'd never had foster parents, but he nodded again, figuring Chris had a better idea what was going on in this reality than he did. Hm… child abuse and apparently to a fairly high degree as he recognized the maniacal gleam that had entered Chris's eyes. When he was lifted out of the tub he whimpered. His back did hurt and not just from being thrown against a table. What was the full extent of the evidence and what exactly had happened to him?
Ezra had enough presence of mind to register the fact that he was being dressed again. In a child's pajamas and since he hadn't brought any of his own clothing – which would have been difficult considering he wouldn't have known what was his or where it might be in that strange house – he had to assume they had been Adam's. Had Chris kept his son's clothing then? Sarah's too? He wondered.
It was still nighttime when he awoke in a large, somewhat familiar bed. He was in Chris's guest room, though the bed was much, much larger than he remembered it being before. A sudden fear seized him and he crawled out of the bed, not wanting to be alone. A childish fear, but since he was a child he could act upon it. Somehow that led him into Chris's room and to his bed. It wasn't surprising when Chris's eyes flashed open abruptly when he felt eyes on him; he'd always suspected he was as paranoid as Ezra was and hence a very light sleeper.
"Hey. You all right?" His voice was rough with sleep and the sound, for some reason, comforted him. When Chris turned back the covers in clear invitation, Ezra crawled readily up onto the bed and curled up against him like a small cat seeking warmth and affection. He was asleep again within moments.
It was the soft murmur of a one-sided conversation that stirred him from his surprisingly deep slumber. Once more Ezra was alone and he dragged himself up and to the hallway to better catch the words being said. There weren't many, but they were telling. "…did they? Well, he still isn't talking and I'm not surprised. Nettie, it looks like someone hurt him – " Pause. "Yeah. We know he didn't have those before in the warehouse. Not a mark on him. Doctors examined him." Pause. "Looked like he'd been slammed into something – a few somethings. There was also something that, well, it looked like a belt had hit him." Long pause. "Yeah. See you in a bit. Bye."
A belt? No wonder he felt as if a car had run over him and then backed up to hit him again for good measure. Wait. Still isn't talking? Hadn't the lady before mentioned something like that too? Was Chris Larabee implying that… what? He was incapable of talking? Or that he hadn't talked to anyone yet? Or that he had taken some vow of silence recently? Ezra was inclined to go with "hadn't talked to anyone yet", after all Chris had yet to address him by name.
When he judged it was safe he made his way into the kitchen, absently wondering how sleep tousled he looked and if it made him look as cute as it must have for Chris to smile like that so that his whole face lit up. "You hungry?" Ezra nodded. "How do pancakes sound to you?" He nodded again. Food in general sounded good, his stomach painfully reminding him that he hadn't eaten recently.He couldthrow out histypical no breakfast thing for one day.He hadn't even had lunch – well, he hadn't before when he was an adult… he wasn't sure, actually. "What would you like to drink? Milk, orange juice… "
He rambled through a few choices and Ezra thought about it carefully. He was sure his voice worked. It had to. "Orange juice, please." Yes, yes of course it did. Damn, he forgot how girly his voice had sounded as a child. Chris's reaction was worth it, though; he jumped as if he'd stunned him with a taser.
"Right. Here you go." The orange juice was placed in front of him. Chris was watching him closely as if he were a dog about to do a trick. Speak, Ezra, speak! Good boy!
"Thank you." Ezra sat patiently, sipping his drink, and before he knew it, there were pancakes set before for him. He'd never thought that Chris might be particularly domestic, as it were, but it was possible that he was. Just a little. Or a lot, he thought, after he'd actually started to eat. Who would have thought that Chris could cook well? He was just finishing when there was a knock at the door and Chris went to answer it.
Nettie was an older woman and not the same one he'd seen before. She looked a bit stern, but generally nice, however if her plans included taking him away from Chris then Ezra was going to have to show her how wrong she was. If he was going to be a small, scared child he was going to do it with someone familiar nearby!
"Hi there. Nice to see you again, young man." Ezra's eyes narrowed and he growled at her. Had he felt better he might have been more tolerant, but every bit of him ached and her voice sounded rather patronizing to him. "We're going to go and get you a checkup. How does that sound?"
Ezra rolled his eyes. In other words, they were going to take pictures of the marks on his body for legal purposes. Nettie must have seen his annoyance before she added, "You won't have to go back there, all right? We'll find somewhere else to place you." Which might have been good, except that he knew exactly where he wanted to stay. He waited until she had moved toward him, however, before he fled. Right to Chris. He locked his small little arms around the man's leg and glared at Nettie.
The woman attempted to reassure him, but Ezra refused to be reassured. People always lied, didn't they? Now that he was a child he felt so damned helpless and he was not about to put his trust in this stranger.
"It will be okay. Hear me?" He turned his eyes up to look at Chris. For some reason he couldn't believe him, either. Why would Chris want to take care of an itty bitty Ezra? Not that Ezra wasn't capable of taking care of himself… to some degree. He could no longer reach the stove, however, or the high cupboards or, well, he was a bit useless wasn't he? That was why mother had left him so often until he could be of more use to her.
A hand settled on Ezra's shoulder and he screamed, evidently startling Nettie and Chris as much as he surprised himself. "It's all right, honey. We're just going to go – "
"No!" He glared at her coldly and clung more tightly to Chris's leg. Nettie's eyes immediately turned up toward Chris in silent question. He gave her a nonverbal response that Ezra missed.
Slowly the woman stood and asked Chris, softly, "Would you be willing to go along?" A second passed and Chris nodded. "How about that? What if Chris was to come along with us?"
Ezra allowed his grip to loosen marginally and he nodded. He made certain that Chris was never far away and realized the uncertainty of him actually going with them when he was strapped into the child safety seat. It wasn't until Chris got into the passenger side of Nettie's car that he finally relaxed. It wasn't that long before he went into a state of panic again. They were approaching an orphanage. As soon as he could, Ezra attached himself to Chris and refused to let go. He would not be left here!
They were greeted by friendly looking man that said he was a doctor. Ezra soon found himself in clinical setting obviously intended for children. He hated it. Chris placed him on an exam table and stepped back, waiting, leaving Ezra feeling vulnerable once more. The doctor was making small talk while Ezra drilled holes into his head with his eyes. He was asked his name, but he ignored the man. It was as if the man hadn't seemed to really expect a response – apparently Ezra had been here before. It was when the doctor, after carefully explaining what he intended to do, reached to touch him that Ezra reacted, his short finger nails lashing out and drawing blood. The man took it in stride. Ezra wondered how many times he'd scratched him in the past or if the man was just used to dealing with hostile children. He slipped off the table and went immediately to Chris, curling his small arms around his leg.
"Perhaps you, um, Mr. Larabee, could assist me?"
Ezra only barely managed to suppress a triumphant grin. 'Yes, see, only Chris can deal with me,' he thought gleefully. 'I belong with Chris not you people. Chris!' And Chris, he was sure, would have to see that, too. He was lifted onto the table again, by Chris, and he partially listened while the doctor explained, once more, what he wanted to happen. Basically, he wanted him to take his shirt off, examine him, and take pictures. Ezra wondered briefly if the room was bugged or if there was a hidden camera somewhere recording all of this. Or both.
"Come on, kid," Chris said gently as he reached out to remove his shirt for him, "This won't take long, okay?"
He distinctly disliked being called "kid". "Ezra." The room went silent immediately. Nettie, who had been shifting through some papers froze, the doctor who had been absently observing and making notes went still, and Chris paused momentarily in his efforts to look at him.
"What was that?"
He tilted his head to one side. "My name."
"Ezra." Chris looked astonished, as did the doctor and Nettie.
"What's your last name, Ezra?" the doctor butted in. Ezra pointedly ignored him so they resumed what they were doing and Ezra's shirt came off. As long as Chris remained beside him, holding his hand, Ezra stayed still and allowed the examination and the pictures to be taken. "Can you tell me how you got hurt, Ezra?"
Again, Ezra ignored the doctor. When Chris repeated the same question, however, he responded, "Which time?"
Nettie made a sharp motion in the background at the doctor to remain quiet and take notes before the man could butt in again. If they were going to get anywhere, it seemed as if Chris was the key.
"How about yesterday. What happened yesterday that made you come and find me?"
Ezra bit at his lip. He couldn't tell him that yesterday he'd been an adult with the ATF and that Chris Larabee was supposed to be his boss – they would think he was crazy and that wouldn't do. No. He could dothis. "I don't remember what happened before I blacked out the first time." Which, was the truth. He had no idea what had happened to this child version of himself before that.
"The first time?" Chris was working extremely hard to keep his voice calm and neutral, but it was obvious that he was upset and angry. "Did you black out more than once yesterday?"
He nodded slowly. "Only twice, though." It was said innocently – he had to commend himself on that and that fact that he was gaining Chris's sympathy. "I was in the corner of the room and I must have blacked out 'cuz my head hurt and everything was blurry. Sometimes I just sit there and if I stay still he doesn't notice me. But I didn't fall asleep 'cuz it hurt too much and I didn't remember what happened." Yes, that flash of horror in Chris's eyes. He couldn't leave him here now! He couldn't! "They were yelling about something. Didn't make sense, though, I didn't know what they were saying. The room was spinning too much. Then he grabbed me and I think he shook me, but I couldn't stand very well. He must have thrown me against the table after that. That's when I blacked out again."
"Who was it that hurt you? Can you tell me his name?"
Ezra wracked his brain for a moment. What had that woman said? Ah! "Tom."
Chris's eyes flickered back to Nettie, who nodded faintly at him in confirmation. Then he turned his attention back to Ezra. "How did you find your way to my house, Ezra? You've never been there before."
He hadn't? Well, damn. "Phonebook." It was the first thing that occurred to him.
"You looked up my address in the phonebook? It's pretty far out. How did you know how to get there?"
"Been out that way before. I knew what direction to go."
"Did you walk all the way there by yourself?"
He shook his head. "Took a bus part way." Then he paused, frowning. "Have to give them the rest of the money back. I didn't have any so I took some. After that, I walked."
Chris was staring at him in amazement. "You are very resourceful." Then his eyes darkened again. "What about the rest of the marks on you? Can you tell me about them?"
Ezra shrugged lightly. He couldn't, really. "He hit me." Then he added, "Tom did." He figured that was likely to be true, anyway. Then he looked up into Chris's eyes, making his eyes as wide and sad as he could. "You aren't going to leave me here. Are you?"
He silently cursed Chris when he faltered. He was. He intended to leave him here. "Well, I – "
"You can't. Don't leave me." Ezra was not above begging when it suited his purposes and this definitely suited his purposes very well.
"Chris, I think now would be a good time for us to go," Nettie suggested, eyeing Ezra cautiously.
"NO!" He kicked and screamed, but it was all for nothing. Chris looked upset to leave yet he left anyway. When all the energy had drained out of him Ezra went limp. He might have described his state as catatonic for all he moved. At lunch a woman attempted to get him to eat along with all the other children and it was only after she threatened to take him to the hospital and put an IV in him that he mustered enough energy to eat a few of the green beans on his tray.
"Why don't you have a bit more?" she suggested. So Ezra ate the rest of the green beans. "Don't you want to try something else?"
A nearby boy who had been observing them off and on immediately offered to give his green beans to Ezra, which prompted the woman to asked if Ezra would eat more green beans. He shook his head "no". It was true they were probably the most edible food they had been given, but he hadn't even wanted to eat them. The woman had sighed and given up, leaving him to drink the milk that had been given to him.
Ezra didn't play with the other children. He stared blankly at the wall doing absolutely nothing. He only ate a minimal part of his dinner and only that because he was forced. The woman had tried to tempt him into eating an ice cream sandwich for dessert along with all the other children – naturally he had refused. He was silently biding his time until they were all sent to bed, twelve children being packed into one room, and the lights were turned out. Mostly. There remained a glimmer of light from a sort of nightlight.
The time passed slowly, but when he had judged that he had waited long enough he crawled out of bed and crept to the door. "You aren't supposed to leave," a soft voice cut through the darkness. In each room there was a bathroom so that the children did not have to go far away to reach a bathroom, but Ezra was not headed in that direction, he was headed for the hallway door. "It's against the rules."
Ezra cast the boy a glance. He'd been the one that had so unselfishly offered his vegetables to Ezra earlier. He gave him a quick smile. "Well, then, I'd best be quiet," he told him as he slipped out. For some reason he had the feeling that the boy wouldn't tell and if he did it wouldn't be until morning. Still, it would be best to be quick. He was forced to hide on several occasions when he heard the soft footsteps of people patrolling the halls, making sure that everything was all right. As his room was on the second floor, Ezra had to take the stairs down to the first floor to be able to get anywhere.
The doors, he was sure, were locked. That left windows.
His eyes widened as the sound of footsteps rapidly approach captured his attention. Hurriedly he dodged into the closest room and waited in silence until they had passed. Then he began to look around. He was in a sort of office-like room. With windows.
The first and second windows didn't budge, but the third did. With a triumphant gleam in his eyes he pried it open balanced on the ledge so that he could push it all the way shut again. He didn't like the drop, but it was necessary and he fell with as much grace and dignity as he could muster – none. He landed hard and had likely scrapped his knees. That was only trivial.
A glance around proved that he had chosen the wisest way out. The yard in back of the orphanage was sealed off by a high chain link fence and though he had a feeling he could have been able to climb it, he was glad he had managed to get out from a side where he was already outside of the fenced in area. With a sigh, Ezra realized that he was grateful that the orphanage was a lot closer to Chris's ranch than his previous location had been. He was uncertain whether he could have gone that far again.
It was only sheer determination that got him back to Chris's doorstop, where he once again rang the doorbell and allowed himself to collapse. He knew it was late, which explained why it took so long for Chris to reach the door. This time when he looked out he looked down first. "Ezra." He held up his arms and Chris immediately picked him up and took him inside. Before he fell asleep he heard Chris talking on the phone with, he presumed, Nettie. What was said, Ezra didn't know.
The next morning they had breakfast with no interruptions. No Nettie. Chris asked if he wanted to go to work with him and Ezra agreed immediately, though he secretly wondered what was going to happen. Had he been quite convincing enough? Would Chris agree to be his – his what? Legal guardian? What exactly had happened to his mother, anyway?
Ezra became unhappy when he realized he would be staying in the "daycare" area. Perfect. Exactly what he did not need. He went quietly, however, and allowed Chris to leave without a fuss. Then he waited for the right moment and made his escape. It wasn't hard – a few of the babies started crying and the daycare workers were forced to try to calm them down. He dodged through the hallways until he got to Team Seven's room. Well, it had been Team Seven's room. Ezra pushed the door open and peered inside. It looked almost the same as he remembered. Except his desk wasn't there.
"Whoa there little feller." Gawddamn Buck! He cast him a glare as he tried to edge his way around his desk. He didn't make it.
Chris burst out of his office and into the bullpen in a seeming panic. "He slipped off! Again! I don't know how – " Then he froze. "Ezra! How did you – never mind. Maybe I don't want to know." He scooped him up and then hesitated. "If I take you back, will you stay?"
"No." It was said firmly, brooking no arguments. When he saw Chris's eyes roll toward the ceiling he added quickly, "I can help."
"I'm sure you could, but it would be a lot more helpful for me if you were to stay with the daycare workers. Okay?"
Ezra's eyes narrowed. "No. I don't want to be there. I can help you."
At Chris's helpless look, Josiah said that he could keep an eye on Ezra since there wasn't a lot he had left to do anyway. Chris agreed, told Ezra to behave, and with one last worried look disappeared back into his office, presumably to call the daycare workers and assure them that Ezra had been found.
Each of the men introduced themselves – JD, Josiah, Buck, Nathan, and Vin. By the time they were finished with that, Chris had returned, obviously not trusting them to watch Ezra. He grabbed an extra chair and joined them. No one was doing any real work so it must have been a fairly slow day.
"So, what's your name?" Josiash asked.
Ezra raised his eyebrows. "Chris said it before. Ezra."
"What about your full name?" It was an attempt to get him to reveal his name, which apparently no one really knew. Chris had an interested look on his face so he decided to give in.
"Ezra P. Standish."
Buck grinned at him. "What's the 'P' stand for?"
Ezra turned his gaze in Chris's direction and said firmly, "Persistent." (1)
"Do you know what persistent means?" Josiah asked, chuckling softly, knowing the boy wasn't telling the truth.
"Of course. To be perseveringly obstinate, assiduous, indefatigable, pertinacious, tenacious, unrelenting –"
"You have quite the vocabulary there, son."
Ezra nodded curtly. "I wouldn't be as useful if I didn't." He realized he shouldn't have said it the moment after the words were out. The six men all straightened up and looked at him. Somehow he had fallen back into the frame of mind he had as a child. He was saying too much.
"What do you mean by that? How are you useful?" It was Chris that asked as he leaned forward to drag Ezra onto his lap.
He twitched uncertainly before finally offering the truth. "I can do lots of things. Pick locks, crack safes, count cards, pick out certain cards… but sometimes she comes back because she needs someone cute. To make her look harmless."
"To make who look harmless?"
Ezra wondered if he should tell. Did it matter? He was a child now, not their coworker, after all. "Mother. She'll be back eventually, when she needs me. So I have to be useful. Otherwise she wouldn't come back."
"What's your mother's name?" Nathan asked, having caught all the surprised looks. When they had discovered Ezra in the warehouse they had assumed his parents were dead. Perhaps they had been wrong.
"Maude."
"Maude Standish?" Josiah prompted.
He hesitated before shrugging. "I don't know." At the looks of disbelief Ezra got he added, "It changes a lot. Her maiden name is Standish, but… I can't remember what it is now. She remarries or uses a different name. It's sometimes safer that way."
"Safer? What does your mother do, Ezra?"
There was no nice way to put it. "Mother's a con artist. And a gambler. Usually… usually not a thief. When I open safes it's to get what she's owed, nothing more. Sometimes they don't want to pay up."
They were interrupted just then when the door opened, revealing Nettie, who paused in surprise at seeing Chris and Ezra both within the room. "It's all been settled, Mr. Larabee. He can stay with you for now and if you want to proceed further – we'll come to that later."
"His name is Ezra Standish. His mother's maiden name is Maude Standish, but she could be going under an alias as well."
Nettie's eyes widen. "Right. I'll see what I can come up with." They talked for a while more before she left to see what she could find out about Ezra and his family.
For the next week Ezra was showered with toys and clothing and everything a child could possibly have wanted. They managed a compromise and Ezra found himself in daycare, annoying as it was, but he had the option of calling Chris whenever he wanted and, possibly, if Chris wasn't busy, of going to his office to "talk with the guys." It was like a second childhood for Ezra and even for Chris – since Chris often had to show him how games and toys worked as Ezra had never played much as a child. Though he was still worried about what had happened and being in a child's body, he couldn't help but admit that he was having fun.
Then it happened. Nettie called and Ezra, who was supposed to be asleep, overheard. From Chris's side of the conversation it was all a bit too clear. "They found her then?" Pause. "What?" Pause. "We can't have him identity his mother's own body, no. Do they – " Pause. "Yeah. Are they sure?" Pause. "Damn. All right. Yeah." Pause. "Yes, of course." It ended there, but Ezra had already stopped listening.
Chris asked him the next day if Ezra wanted him to stay with him permanently, as his adopted son. In Nettie's search they had discovered that there was no father listed on Ezra's birth certificate and Maude had had no living relatives. Ezra had agreed and then asked, pointblank, if his mother was dead. He had not cried when Chris told him she was. He didn't ask for the details. It wasn't Ezra's mother, his mother was still alive somewhere, this wasn't his mother. Or was it? Had reality changed… or?
He yelped in pain as his head suddenly began to pound. He felt himself falling out of his chair and then… he was looking up into Chris's face. Only he was no longer a child. And it was very much awkward. "Mr. Larabee, if you kiss me I am going to have to punch you, boss or not." Ezra grunted as he was suddenly hugged by the normally stoic man.
"Ezra! You're back!"
Slowly, gingerly, he pried Chris's fingers off of him. "Might I inquire as to what happened?" A glance around showed that he was in Chris's living room and that the rest of Team Seven was there, as well.
"The doctor said that you had regressed for some reason," JD was the first to offer.
Nathan nodded in agreement. "Figured something had triggered a childhood memory and pulled you back for a while. We did everything we could to help you."
"Ah." Ezra blinked his eyes rapidly in surprise. Had it all been a dream? Sending himself back into his childhood to re-experience things, including his worst fear, his mother never being able to come back? "I hope I didn't say anything… too…" Ezra winced. "Detrimental."
"Don't worry, Ez, we'll tell you allll about it." For some reason Ezra very much disliked the wide grin on Buck's mouth. "You were one vicious, untrustworthy little kid. It was cute seeing the way you cuddled up to Chris, though. How you called him 'daddy'."
Ezra's face turned an instant red. "I did no such thing!" But the nods he received all around the room belied his words. He was sure he hadn't, very sure. He would not have called Chris 'daddy', ever! But, if it hadn't been him, then who?
#t#
The child Ezra had just returned to full awareness and had the words repeated to him, when he asked what had happened,that Chris had just told him thathis mother was dead and that Chris was going to try to adopt him. He'd grown fond of Chris, but he cried for the loss of his mother. Even though she had never been there much in his life, he loved her anyway. Still, he was glad to finally have someplace he could stay without every having to worry about having to move or to wonder who he would be dropped off with next.
That was how he had ended up in the warehouse in the first place. The people she'd sent him to hadn't wanted him andEzra had been forced to seek shelter elsewhere. Luckily, not long after that Chris and the others had stumbled across him and then he had met Nettie. He hadn't talked since then – mother had always told him to never tell anyone anything because they could use it against him. Especially social workers. When they had placed him in a foster home with that man, Ezra had thought he would never escape. Somehow he had ended up with Chris, though, and now Chris was adopting him.
Now he had something to look forward to.
-The End-
(1) In the episodes Ezra says that the "P" in his name stands for "persuasive", but "persistent" worked better with this fic. Most writers, if they mention Ezra's full name, put his middle name as Patrick.