Buck slipped back into the hotel room he and Ezra were sharing as quietly as possible. When it looked like his friend was going to sleep for a while, he'd stepped out long enough to go to the nearby Giordano's and get a pizza to go. It was just about time for him to wake Ezra and ask all the usual questions to make sure he was oriented to where he was. He hoped he could also get him to eat a little something since he'd had practically nothing to eat the entire day.

He put the pizza down on the desk and turned on the light there. It provided enough illumination without shining directly on Ezra.

Before waking his friend, Buck stood and just looked at him for a moment. Somehow, Ezra had rolled over, so he was partially on his right side. Considering the swelling under his right eye, Buck wasn't sure how he was able to do that comfortably.

Other than the collection of bruises, Ezra's face was almost as pale as the pillow he lay on. The gauze that covered the stiches in the chin laceration almost blended in. Since he'd pushed the covers down to his waist and didn't have a shirt on, Buck was able to see the bruising on his chest, back, and arms from his tumble down the stairs.

Buck sat down on the side of bed. He reached for Ezra's shoulder, careful to avoid the bruise there, and shook him lightly while calling out his name.

Ezra let out a little groan then his eyes blinked opened as much as they could considering the bruising the swelling. "More questions," he grumped.

"We've got to make sure that concussion's not getting worse. You know the drill."

As he pushed up to sit, Ezra accurately recited his full name, birthdate, their current location, and who the current president was. If the answers to the questions weren't good enough, he also added a recitation of how he'd acquired his injuries ending off with hoping he never saw the Jolly Green Giant again in this lifetime.

"I guess you're oriented," Buck said with a chuckle. "How are you feeling?" He reached to grab the pillows and stuff them behind Ezra's back so he could lean against them.

"Considering the past two days, I guess I could feel worse," Ezra responded with a very slight and delicate shrug. "My head's not pounding quite as hard and everything else just feels like a very dull toothache right now...if you can have a toothache in your ankle."

Buck let out a little chuckle. "I understand what you mean." He pointed to the pizza box on the desk. "I got some pizza. You feel up to some?"

"I thought I could smell melting cheese." Ezra thought for a moment then nodded slightly. "If I don't agree to eat, you'll just worry more. A small piece, though."

Buck put a slice of pizza on one of the paper plates the restaurant provided. He looked around for a second trying to figure out how Ezra would be able to eat off the paper plate without making mess then remembered seeing a lap desk in the closet. "Here you go."

Ezra looked at the slice of deep-dish pizza and then back to Buck. "I hope you don't expect me to pick that up and eat it...and what's in it?"

"Oh. Right." Buck grabbed a plastic knife and fork from the desk and handed them to Ezra. "It's a meat and more meat...pepperoni, salami, sausage, and bacon. If it's too much for you, I can probably get you something from room service."

Ezra waved off the offer. "This will be fine."

"Ok. There's a vending machine out in the corridor. I'm gonna go grab something to drink. What can I get you?"

"If there's ginger ale, that would be acceptable. Otherwise, water's fine."

"Sure thing." Buck grabbed the ice bucket, made sure he had a key card and left the room.

Once Buck had left, Ezra poked at his pizza and carefully shook his head. He wondered what the other man would have done if he'd said he wanted prime rib instead of pizza. At the thought of steak, his jaw gave a twinge of pain from the bruising. "Second thought, I should have sent him for soup." Gamely, he cut off a small piece of pizza and put it in his mouth. He chewed it carefully before swallowing and then waited to see if his stomach would accept it. Thankfully, his stomach seemed content to accept some nourishment.

It didn't take long for Buck to return with a Coke and a bottle of water. "They were out of ginger ale." He poured some water into a cup and added a few ice cubes and set it on the bedstand where Ezra could reach it. He was happy to see Ezra eating the pizza although he did manage only half the slice before voicing a desire to lay down again. Buck immediately jumped up from where he'd sat to eat his dinner to make sure his friend was comfortable.

"You need any ice for your face?"

"No. Please, sit and eat your dinner, Buck. I'll be fine. I'm just a bit tired."

Buck stood by the bed for a few moments before he finally agreed. By the time he finished eating, Ezra was already asleep again. He cleaned up the remains of his meal and then readied himself for bed. He was surprised to see that it was still early – just barely 8:00 pm. It felt like the day had been never ending.

After another quick look to make sure Ezra was still sleeping soundly, he stretched out on his bed. He found a game on TV to watch but kept the volume muted so as not to disturb the sleeping man. He'd have to wake him in a couple of hours to make sure there still weren't any signs or symptoms that meant the concussion was growing worse and they should be heading back to the hospital. Once he did that, he should be able to let Ezra sleep through to morning with only one more wake up.

He heard a grunt from the other bed as Ezra shifted into a different position. He was ready to go over a check on him when he heard a soft sigh and his friend settled down once more.

M7 M7 M7 M7 M7 M7 M7

The room was dark and quiet. Buck had awakened Ezra a couple of hours ago for another check and found his friend was still oriented although the headache did persist. Satisfied there was no need to bundle Ezra back to the hospital, Buck had let him settle down to sleep. He'd also turned off the TV and settled down for the night himself.

Buck had been having a pleasant dream when a sound pulled him awake. He lay still trying to figure out what it was, but other than the hiss of the HVAC system, the room was silent. He mentally shrugged and was rolling over to go back to sleep when he heard it again and knew it came from Ezra.

Worried that his friend was in pain or ill, he turned on the reading lamp over his bed so there'd be some light in the room then went to check on Ezra. The sound repeated but it wasn't a sound of pain...at least not physical pain. The sound was more of a whimper and he decided that Ezra must have been having a bad dream of some sort. He was torn between waking him up – and potentially embarrassing him or letting him be. When Ezra made the sound once more, the big-hearted man couldn't walk away.

As he had earlier in the night, Buck gently shook Ezra's shoulder being careful to avoid any bruises there. "Ezra?" he softly called. "You're having a bad dream. C'mon. Wake up."

Ezra pulled in a deep breath and let out a torturous "noooo." He stirred under Buck's hand and his eyes slowly blinked open, but Buck wasn't sure he was seeing him.

"Ezra? You awake?"

"Buck?" Ezra asked in a breathy voice as he grasped the hand still on his shoulder.

"The one and only." Buck didn't pull his hand away until Ezra had released it.

Ezra slowly pushed up to sit against the head of the bed. He looked around the dimly lit room as if he were trying to remind himself of where he was...or even when. "I was dreaming," he said needlessly.

Buck nodded and moved to sit on the edge of his bed to give Ezra some space. "Didn't look like it was a very pleasant one. Wanna talk about it?" he offered. Honestly, he didn't expect Ezra to take him up on the offer. Even though he'd grown surer in his trust of his teammates, there was still something in Ezra that had him pulling to himself in these situations, so Buck was surprised when he saw a small nod.

"Do you remember your father," Ezra asked. He couldn't remember Buck ever talking about his father but that didn't mean he hadn't known him.

"I never knew him." Buck shrugged. "I never really asked Mom about him and I guess she didn't think I needed to know. Couldn't even tell you if he's alive to be honest."

"And this doesn't bother you."

Buck sat quietly for a few moments thinking about Ezra's question. "I try not to let it," he finally said. "Sometimes I wish I knew who he was...maybe know what I got from him. There's nothing I can really do about that, though, so it's best not to think about it." Buck was again silent for a few seconds before asking, "That what you were dreaming about – your Dad?"

Ezra was always close-mouthed when it came to his past. What little Buck and the others knew of Ezra's father came courtesy of Maude. Had she not been worried about her son's health at the time, there was little doubt she wouldn't have opened up about it. Even though Ezra had said he wanted to talk about what he'd been dreaming about, Buck definitely didn't think he'd answer if it were about his father. When Ezra nodded again, he was very surprised although he tried to not to show it.

"His death, to be more precise."

"Your mother said you were just a little guy when it happened."

A quick, half-smile flitted across Ezra's face almost faster than Buck could see it. "Ah, yes. I'd almost forgotten Mother had chosen to disclose that information to you gentlemen."

"She was worried about you."

Ezra shifted uncomfortably. Although he'd be the first to say that his relationship with his mother had changed somewhat and improved since his bout of appendicitis, it still made him uncomfortable. She'd taught him from an early age to hide his feelings. It was a hard habit to break.

"What was the dream about," Buck asked to get Ezra on track and past talk of Maude.

"You must understand. I wasn't a naïve child even if were only six."

Buck was going to say that it was unlikely Ezra had ever been naïve even as a child but didn't want to say anything that would force Ezra back behind the walls he liked to erect. Instead, he just nodded.

"I understood the concept of death and that it meant the person would not be coming back. I even knew that wakes and funerals were a means to say goodbye. I just never really knew quite what happened at them. It never crossed my mind that the deceased were actually "in attendance", so to say, and I guess it never crossed Mother's mind to prepare me."

As Ezra spoke, Buck noticed how he drew in on himself ever so slightly. He'd wrapped his arms around his chest and his gaze was locked on the blanket over his lap. His voice had become hushed and, though not a monotone, was devoid of its usual animation. He couldn't imagine how shocking and frightening it would be for a six-year-old child to walk into a funeral home and see a deceased person, let alone his father, if he hadn't been told that would happen.

"I'm ashamed to admit I made a bit of a scene when we walked into the room where Da...Father was. I just couldn't fathom that there would be a dead person just out in the midst of people, so someone had to have made a mistake. Da...Father couldn't be dead. He was just sleeping in that strange bed."

"Oh Lord," Buck couldn't help but breathe out.

"I ran up to the casket and started begging Daddy to wake up." This time, Ezra didn't censor himself from using the diminutive name for his father. "I kept telling him it wasn't polite for him to be sleeping with all the people looking on." He chanced a quick glance over to Buck before continuing. "Mother was too shocked to do anything. Aunt Vera – she's was Father's eldest sister – picked me up and took me out of the room. She just kept telling me to hush but I just wanted to go back and wake up Daddy. They had to be wrong. He just looked like he was sleeping." His voice trailed off.

Buck moved from the edge of his bed to Ezra's. Hey. You were only a little kid. How were you supposed to know?"

Ezra shook his head slightly. "That didn't stop my ever so proper Grandfather and Grandmother LeBeau from castigating Mother for raising me poorly and allowing me to act in such an embarrassing and undignied manner. I don't suppose I did Mother any good when I pointedly told Grandfather to leave my Mama alone and that I didn't like him."

It was hard for Buck to miss the distaste when Ezra spoke of his maternal grandparents. He remembered Maude mentioning that Ezra had a less than pleasant relationship with his grandfather. He looked down to hide his smile at the thought of a little six-year-old Ezra taking on his grandfather. He'd seen Ezra's explosions of temper several times and had a feeling it wasn't any quieter when he was a child.

"Do you know what I remember most from that time?" Ezra rhetorically asked Buck. "I remember the bickering and the arguing. The Standishes and LeBeau's didn't get along very well. Everyone was blaming everyone else and keeping to their own sides with Mother and I caught in between."

"That had to be tough especially for a little kid." Buck could easily understand how that time would still haunt Ezra's dreams all these years later. He couldn't imagine how it must have felt to be a small child experiencing the loss of a parent and then having all the adults around you arguing and playing the blame game. He had a feeling Ezra was leaving a lot out, but he was coming to have more of an appreciation of why his friend would so often hide how he was feeling from the others and why it took so long for him to learn to trust.

"When we were at the funeral mass," Ezra continued without acknowledging what Buck had said, "the priest droned on and on during the homily. It felt like it was never going to end. Mother and Father rarely, if ever, took me to church. 'Too many ants in my pants', Father would say. The rare occasions we did go, he'd always find something to distract me, but this time, he wasn't there."

"And you had ants in your pants?"

"Something like that," Ezra answered with a shrug. "I wasn't paying much attention and was looking all around. I noticed the cloth they'd put on the casket was fluttering a bit and then, suddenly, a door slammed closed and the flutter stopped." He looked over to Buck, an embarrassed half-smile on his face. "I'm sure there was a draft from somewhere that caused it all, but..." he trailed off with another shrug.

"But you were six and your imagination went wild," Buck finished for him.

"That's a good way to put it, I guess. I started yelling, and crying, and carrying on. I wouldn't stop clinging to Mother's neck. Aunt Vera had to take me out again. It was decided that she would take me banquet room where the reception would be held afterwards instead of going to the graveside services. It was the first of many times I'd be sent off with a relative so I wouldn't prove to be a disruptive presence."

"Disruptive?" Buck exploded. "You were just a little boy and you lost your Dad. Did everyone expect you to act like an adult or something? And why didn't your aunt just leave you with your mama? A little boy needs his mama at times like that."

"Don't hold it against Aunt Vera. I've always been quite fond of her. She never had children of her own, so she used to tell us all of her nieces and nephews were her children." Ezra smiled softly as he thought of his aunt. "She always smelled of lavender and had hugs to spare. And she'd always have a piece of my favorite chocolate whenever I saw her." He shook himself from the memories of his aunt. "As for acting like an adult? Yes. That's exactly what was expected – especially from Grandfather LeBeau. My last name may have been Standish, but I was still a Lebeau and it was expected I would act properly. Instead, I was embarrassing him and the rest of the LeBeau's. He let Mother know in no uncertain terms that she was to take me in hand at once. I guess that's why I always enjoyed when Mother would leave me with Aunt Vera. She only ever expected me to be a child."

Buck let out a low whistle. "Your grandfather's a real piece of work...and your grandmother was ok with that?"

"Yes, he was. Grandmother was a Beaufort...a bit higher up in the pecking order than the LeBeau's. She expected no less than Grandfather did. They nearly disowned mother when she married father. He was just a no-name accountant with no social standing. It didn't help that he was from Massachusetts. Nor did it matter that the LeBeau fortune was made through gambling, shady business dealings, and outright cons. It was a respected name. Mother gave me the middle name Phillip appease them, I guess. That was Grandfather's name. My sister was Madeline after Grandmother."

Since Maude had sworn them all to secrecy, Buck didn't let on that he knew about Ezra's middle name. However, the mention of a sister caught him by surprise. "Sister? I thought you were an only child?"

"I am," Ezra confirmed. "Mother was with child when Father passed. They'd agreed if it were a girl, her name would be Madeline. Mother lost the baby a month of two after Father's accident. It's not something she speaks of." He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly as if he were trying to physically distance himself from the past. He looked over to the bedside clock and saw that it was nearing 3:30 am. He shook his head slowly. "It's late and I'm keeping you awake prattling on about being a foolish child. I apologize."

Buck gently grasped Ezra's shoulder and gave him a careful shake. "Hey, don't apologize. I bet it's been a long time since you've told anybody about all that." He eyed the other man for a few seconds and then amended, "hell, a long time? I bet you've never told anyone that and you've just been keeping it all bottled up inside. It doesn't matter how late or early it is. You need to talk about it, I'm gonna listen."

Ezra reached up to pat the hand still on his shoulder. "Thank you. It seems this trip has been more than either of us bargained for?" He tried to hold back a yawn without any luck.

"That seems to be usual for all of us." Buck caught the hidden yawn. "You, however, need to get some sleep. You know rest is the best thing for a concussion." He got up from the side of the bed and helped Ezra settle back down then pulled the covers over him. "I think you should be able to sleep until morning without any more wake-up calls." He moved back to his bed and got comfortable. "You just yell out if you need anything," he said as he reached to turn out the light. The room was plunged back into darkness except for the small bit of light coming in around the drapes.

"Mr. Wil...Buck," Ezra said after a minute or two of silence. "What I spoke about...I'm hoping that can remain between the two of us and you won't share it with our compatriots."

Buck raised himself up on one elbow and looked over to Ezra. With the small bit of illumination in the room, he could just make out the tense form of his friend. "You have my word, Ez. I won't mention it to anyone."

"Thank you," Ezra said softly before curling up on his side. Within minutes, his even, deep breaths signaled that he'd fallen asleep.

Buck lay awake for another little while thinking about what Ezra had told him. He'd always thought Ezra's slowness to trust him and the rest of the team and the walls he hid behind were related to his time with the FBI in Atlanta. Now, he was beginning to wonder if that all started hearing the arguments of family when his father passed away and the expectation that he'd behave like a small adult instead of a child. He also had a little more insight into Maude. It couldn't have been easy to lose a husband and child in such a short time. Unfortunately, it seems it was Ezra who paid the price. "You got a lot of hurt you're keeping inside, Hoss," he whispered before letting sleep overtake him as well.