Sunlight coming around the edges of the drapes woke Buck. He grumbled a bit and pulled the pillow over his face to try to block it and get a little more sleep, but once he was awake, he was awake. Sitting up in bed, he looked over to where Ezra was still peacefully sleeping unbothered by the sunlight that didn't reach that far. "Now I know why you took that bed," he grumbled. There was no heat in his complaint, though. He knew Ezra needed the rest.

He scrubbed his hands over his face a few times trying to wake himself up fully, then back through his hair making it stick up in all directions. He checked the time, just a little after seven. He debated waking Ezra to make sure he was still oriented or letting him continue to sleep until he woke naturally. "Shower, then I'll figure it out," he said to the room at large.

Gathering what he'd need for a shower, he stopped by Ezra's bed to check him. The sleeping man was loosely sprawled across the bed with the covers pushed down to his waist. Getting another good look at all the bruises on his friend's body, Buck winced a little. He had to give Ezra credit. A lot of people took one look at him and his designer suits and made a snap judgment that he was soft and given to complaining, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Hidden under those suits was a body that was kept in good shape. Ezra might complain over something as inconsequential as paper cut but more serious injuries generally found him stoically hiding his pain. That was one of the reasons why Buck knew his friend was hurting. He'd heard very few complaints from him since the fall down the stairs.

"Take a picture, it will last longer," Ezra grumbled when Buck continued to watch him.

"I didn't realize you were awake. Sorry."

"I wasn't." Ezra rolled over and sat up. Mimicking Buck's actions of earlier, he scrubbed his hands over his face, carefully avoiding the bruising and swelling, then back through his hair. "Do you know how hard it is to sleep with someone breathing over you?"

"Sorry about that. I just wanted to make sure you were ok."

"Well, now you know. I think the least you can do to make up for it would be to let me have the first shower."

"Hang on. There's no way you're taking a shower balancing on one leg. What are you trying to do? Break your arm?"

"You used that same argument on me yesterday. I am not going another day making do with a sponge bath. I'm going to take a shower. You can either help me, or just stay out of my way." Ezra threw his legs over the side of the bed, holding back a hiss of pain when he jostled his broken ankle. He reached for the crutches and started to stand.

"Ok. Ok." Buck said when he saw Ezra's determination. "I'll help you. I don't think this is a good idea, but I'll help you. Just give me a second to get things ready."

Ezra put the crutches back and sat back on the side of the bed. "When I'm done, we should see about getting a flight out to Denver today."

Buck, who'd been going through Ezra's suitcase to get clothes for him stopped and turned back to his friend. "Absolutely not. Unless you've developed amnesia, in which case we should be on our way back to the hospital, you heard the doctor say at least 24 hours before you got back on a plane."

"He was being overly cautious," Ezra argued. "There is no reason we can't finally complete out journey today."

"No reason other than you could have a brain bleed and up in a coma or dead on the plane. And if you think I'm going to be the one to call Chris and explain that to him, you really must have brain damage. We are going to do exactly what the doctor said. I'll help you take your damned shower, but you are going to spend the day resting like you're supposed to."

Ezra was caught off-guard by Buck's vehemence. Throughout their whole ordeal trying to get back to Denver, he'd been nothing but patient and solicitous – except when dealing with the man dubbed the Jolly Green Giant. He knew that was in part because Buck felt guilty about causing his injuries even if it had been unintentional. That Buck was losing his patience now said something. "Ok," he agreed. "We'll stay here for the day."

"Good." Buck held up a handful of clothes he'd taken from Ezra's suitcase. "Now tell me where you packed some casual clothes 'cause there's nothing like that in here and I know the only thing in that garment bag is a bunch of suits."

"I packed for a conference." At Buck's quizzical look, Ezra further explained, "I saw no need to pack casual clothes since there was no downtime planned."

"You're kidding. So, all you packed were suits? You gotta learn to relax, Hoss."

Ezra just stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "One of us had to give the impression that our team does know how to dress appropriately." He eyed the faded jeans and long-sleeved Colorado Avalanche t-shirt Buck had thrown on his bed to wear for the day. "Take out the trousers from the Zegna and a white shirt," he instead instructed. Once more, he got a quizzical look from Buck. "Like you'd know a Zegna from an Armani," he muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "the charcoal grey suit."

"I know Zegna from Armani," Buck griped. He kept it to himself that all he had to do was look at the tags to figure that out. "I'm just trying to figure out why you want to be wearing suit pants and a dress shirt just to lounge around a hotel room all day." He tossed on the foot of the bed a pair of the track pants and a t-shirt that hadn't been in the packing cube labeled laundry. Even though he knew Ezra commonly used them as pajamas, it was the only thing close to casual wear.

"You expect me to wear sleeping attire all day, instead?" Ezra asked with an arched brow.

"The most we're going to do is go downstairs to the restaurant to get something to eat." Buck had been the model of patience up until now but Ezra's fussiness about his attire was starting to exasperate him. "What does it matter what you have on?"

"I will not be seen dining out in inappropriate clothes."

"Ok, fine," Buck griped. "I'll get the damned suit pants and shirt." So far, it seemed all he'd done was butt heads with Ezra this morning and he was done with it. He certainly didn't regret sitting up with Ezra after the dream about his father's death had woken him up, but that coupled his heightened awareness of his friend all night, had meant a less than satisfying night's sleep. "You want to dress like some GQ model, what's it to me?"

There was silence in the room while Buck pulled out the requested garments. "I'm sorry," Ezra said to break it. "I realize you're only trying to help and I'm being...difficult." He waved in the direction of the bathroom. "Go. Take a shower like you were going to. I can get ready when you're done."

Buck saw the look of contriteness on Ezra's face. He came over and dropped down to sit beside him on the bed. "C'mon. Don't be like that. I didn't mean to snap at you." He ran a hand back through his hair making it stick up even more than it already was. He bumped his shoulder lightly against Ezra's. "We're just snapping at each other because we've been together too long. That's all."

Together too long were words Ezra hated to hear. They were words that usually preceded him being sent off to yet another relative. "Yes. I suppose so," he said with a forced smile. He nodded to the track pants and t-shirt still on the bed. "Those will be fine."

"Hey, I can get out whatever you want. You just let me know." Buck had noticed some subtle change in Ezra. He wasn't sure what it was, but it almost reminded him of how Ezra had been when he'd first joined Team 7 and always seemed to walk on eggshells trying to fit in.

"Really, that will be fine. As you said, it'll be more comfortable if we're just going to be in the room all day." Ezra turned a weak smile in Buck's direction. "Please, go take your shower now. If you'll just hand me my novel, I'll catch up on some reading until it's my turn."

Buck was tempted to point out that reading would most likely make the headache Ezra probably still had from the concussion worse, but quickly changed his mind not wanting to cause any more upset. "Sure thing." He found the book in Ezra's bag and handed it to him. "I'll be out in a jiff."

Ezra waited for the bathroom door to close behind Buck before settling back against the pillows. He opened to book to where he'd left off but didn't read more than a couple of pages before his head started to throb and he had trouble concentrating. They were both symptoms of a concussion and he should have known to expect it. Irritably, he snapped the book shut and put it on the bed beside him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows but that didn't seem to help much.

Gingerly, he got up from the bed and grabbed the crutches. Once he was balanced, he hobbled over to the dresser where Buck had left the bottle of ibuprofen the night before. He swallowed three of them followed by the rest of the bottle of water he'd been drinking last night then hobbled back to the bed.

He lay back against the pillows again and closed his eyes. He could hear the spray of the shower and what sounded like Buck singing. He found the sounds oddly comforting and soon drifted off to that twilight place that wasn't quite sleeping but wasn't awake.

M7M7M7M7M7M7M7

"Hey. I've got an idea," Buck said as he came out of the shower fifteen minutes later. He trailed off when he saw Ezra lying with his eyes closed. He noticed that the bottle of ibuprofen on the dresser was opened.

"Knew you were probably hurting," he whispered as he looked down at Ezra. He picked up the book from the bed and put it on the nightstand then reached over and flipped the blankets over the sleeping man. When he did, Ezra let out a contented sigh and snuggled down into them.

"You just rest and ol' Buck'll take care of everything," he whispered.

M7M7M7M7M7M7M7

It was another two hours before Ezra woke up again. In that time, Buck had called down to room service and ordered breakfast for himself. Since he didn't know how long the other man would sleep, he didn't get anything for him.

He didn't want to risk waking the other man by turning on the TV so, when boredom overtook him, he reached for the book Ezra was reading and started flipping through it. It was a battered and dog-eared copy of The Three Musketeers and Buck wondered how many times his friend had read it. He remembered reading it once some years ago.

The sounds of movement from the other bed accompanied by some groans had him turning to Ezra just as his eyes opened. "Hey there, Sleepyhead," he greeted.

Ezra blinked a few times before rubbing his hand over his eyes then sitting up. "I fell asleep," he half-asked, half-stated. "How long?"

Buck returned the book to the nightstand then crossed the small distance between the two beds. "A couple of hours. You feeling better? I know your head must have still been hurting you."

"Some," Ezra answered as he pushed up to sit. "I hope I didn't delay your breakfast."

"Nah. I called down for room service. I didn't want to get you anything since I didn't know how long you'd sleep. If you want, I can all now."

Before Ezra could answer, his stomach gurgled hungrily, and he let out an embarrassed chuckle. "That might be a good idea." He accepted the room service menu Buck handed him and scanned it. "The French toast sounds good. And coffee...a lot of coffee."

"Wondered how long you were going to go without your magic elixir. Let me just call it in and I'll help you with your shower. I had an idea about making it easier for you."

"An idea?" Ezra hesitantly questioned. "You do remember telling the doctor that you were the responsible adult?" he half-joked. Having seen some of Buck's ideas in the past, and knew that they were usually of the "adult" variety.

"Ha ha. You wanna take a shower or not."

Ezra turned on the bed and grabbed his crutches. "Please, do lead on Mr. Wilmington. I'm anxious to see this idea."

When they reached the bathroom, Buck stepped out of the way and made a grandiose gesture with his arm that Ezra should go in first. He took one step in, froze, then glared over his shoulder at Buck. "What is that thing," he demanded through gritted teeth as he jabbed a finger at the plastic bench in the bathtub.

The anger radiating off Ezra was the last thing Buck expected. "It's a shower bench. It makes showering easier for..."

"I know what it's for," Ezra interrupted. "I am not disabled. My condition is temporary."

All Buck could do for a couple of seconds was just stare at Ezra. Every line of his tense posture radiated anger and something else. It took Buck a second to figure out what the something else was. It was fear...fear of losing his independence. He knew...everyone knew...that Ezra was a fiercely independent person. For some reason, he was seeing the shower bench not as an aid but a removal of his independence.

"Now hang on there, Ez. Don't be getting your dander up. That's nothing but a tool to make your life a little easier. I thought you'd rather take a shower on your own instead of having me in here helping you every step of the way but if that's what you'd rather..." He left it unsaid that he could remove the shower bench and just hang on to Ezra the entire time he was showering to make sure he didn't fall.

Ezra hung his head at Buck's words and squeezed his eyes shut. Here his friend thought he was doing something to help him and, again, he biting his head off. "Again, I apologize. It seems I've allowed my injuries to make me irritable and have taken it out on you. I realize you're only trying to help, Buck. I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful."

"Anybody'd be a little irritable after what you've gone through the last few days. You just get yourself a nice, relaxing shower. By the time you're done, I bet your breakfast will be here." Buck gave a quick pat to Ezra's shoulder then left him to his own devices.

M7 M7 M7 M7 M7 M7 M7

When Ezra emerged from the bathroom, his breakfast was already there and set up on the desk. "What is that on your face?" Buck asked as he walked by.

Ezra immediately reached up and touched his face. "Oh lord. I forgot." He carefully unpeeled the tape holding the piece of plastic to his face. "I didn't want to get the stitches wet."

"Makes sense. I forgot they had to be covered."

Once Ezra was settled in the desk chair, Buck grabbed one of the trashcans in the room and upended it to support his friend's broken ankle. Ezra distractedly nodded his thanks. He was too busy indulging in what was, surprisingly, a good cup of coffee. Buck shook his head slightly and smiled at the look of bliss on the other man's face. There was no denying Ezra did like a good cup of coffee.

Once he'd assuaged his need for caffeine, Ezra tucked into his breakfast. "This is very good," he said between bites of the French Toast. After eating hardly anything the previous day, he was quite hungry.

The plate of French toast and the accompanying bacon was gone. Asking Buck to bring another cup of coffee over to him, Ezra settled down on his bed once more to read. Thankfully, the Ibuprofen had helped, and he was able to concentrate on the book. He spent most of the day quietly reading or just resting.

While Ezra relaxed in the room, Buck went downstairs. With the concierge's help, he was able to book them on a flight to Denver leaving late the next morning. Once that was taken care of, he called Chris to update him on their new travel plans.

After getting off to a slightly rocky start, the day ended up being a quiet and relaxed one for the two men. They turned in early eager to complete their travel and finally get home the next day.