"Damn it Ezra, what did you do to yourself. No, stand still. Don't move." Josiah stepped back to let Nathan through before turning back to the others. "Somebody find some shoes for him. There's broken mirror all over the floor, and he's in bare feet."
Ezra stood mutely, staring at the back his right hand as if it was something he had never seen before. Spots of blood were beginning to appear above the lowest knuckles with a few deeper gashes as well. He showed no reaction at all when Nathan carefully began checking the wounds.
Chris was more than ready to lay into him but backed off as he watched Nathan. There was a look of concern there that didn't seem to match up with the apparent insignificance of the injury. He switched his gaze to what used to be a mirror and now was nothing more than hundreds of small shards that littered the floor. "How bad is it Nathan?"
"My hand received no significant damage, although sadly the mirror did not survive the encounter."
While it was good to see Ezra showing signs of coming back to life, the answer wasn't what Chris had been asking for. "When did you change your name? I asked Nathan."
Without looking up from the work he was doing, Nathan calmly answered. "Could have been a lot worse. Even in a moment of shear lunacy, he had the presence of mind to punch with the flat of his fist rather than squarely with the knuckles. Won't need stitches, and it doesn't look like he broke anything."
"Well, looks like he broke one thing." JD offered as he reappeared from the kitchen with a broom in hand. "When you two are done I'll clean that glass up."
"Not glass, a mirror. One must be specific about these details, since it will be traced back to be the cause of my misfortunes for the next seven years."
"Wrong Ezra." Chris leaned into the room without entering. "I am going to be the cause of those."
A tap at his shoulder had him turn away from the discussion. Buck was presenting him with a pair of shoes to pass over. "Figured this was better than slippers."
Wordlessly, he took them and set them on the floor, then favoured Ezra with a long stare before walking away. There were a million things he wanted to say but knew most of them would only cause more trouble then Ezra was likely able to deal with right now. The lecture would keep, at least for a little while.
"You ministrations, while appreciated, are hardly necessary Nathan. I assure you –"
"Save it. I said the cuts didn't need stitches, but that doesn't mean they don't need tending to. You've got splinters in there and since I'm guessing you'd rather not deal with that irritation, not to mention infection, just shut up and stay still until I've cleaned this up."
He would have liked to say more. Liked to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing pulling a stunt like that. Ask him what was so frustrating to him that he couldn't sit down and talk to him, or anybody else on the team. What was worth risking the consequences of such a futile gesture. But he knew the questions would be a waste of time. Ezra would give him a smartass answer, if he got an answer at all. He'd shrug things off with his usual brusque dismissal. He sighed to himself, wondering why he'd expect anything different. The undercover agent had been part of the team for several months now, and still remained as much of an enigma as he had the day he first walked in. No bonds had been forged, no friendships created. If he were to walk out on them all tomorrow it would make little difference in the personal interactions of the group.
The sadness he felt at that thought was deeper than he'd have expected, and he paused his mental process when that fact registered. It would make a difference, and greater than he would have guessed. He was startled to realize he would miss this frustrating, overconfident, self-satisfied southerner, though he was damned if he could understand why.
A soft, almost inaudible gasp from Ezra brought his full attention back to task he needed to focus on. There were still several small shards to be tweezed out, and he knew he had to do so while inflicting as little pain as possible.
Josiah had heard the quiet reaction as well. "Best do as he says son. You don't want Nathan mad at you while he's working like that." Josiah tried to give Ezra an encouraging smile, but from the reaction he got, he assumed the effort was wasted.
"The treatment is required and the associated discomfort warranted, but I don't believe an audience is a necessity. If I cannot be afforded discretion, perhaps some privacy could be extended?"
Buck tugged JD away from the door. "We can do that Ezra. Doesn't look like there is anything left in there to break, and Nathan wouldn't let you anyway. Come on kid. You and me can head out to the deli up the block and grab everybody some breakfast."
Josiah joined them in walking away, but Vin just propped himself against the door jamb, watching in silence.
Ezra didn't think it was possible to feel any further humiliation, but the unwavering watchful eye of his colleague was proving him wrong. Going on his lifelong philosophy that the best defence is offense, he rallied himself to the task.
"Is there something further I can do to entertain you, or do you find my shame sufficient diversion."
There was an almost immeasurable shift in Vin's composure. He'd never imagined shame to be an emotion the confident agent had in his repertoire, and certainly wouldn't have expected it now. Anger, frustration and resentment were the reactions he expected to have to deal with, and he figured eventually he would. But right now something else took priority.
"You've had a lousy couple of days Ezra. Worried about you is all. No shame involved from what I see."
Ezra stared him down, looking for the crack in the veneer that would tell him there was more to this. He couldn't find it but wasn't ready to accept that there was any genuine concern to be found. It didn't make any sense. Thankfully, Nathan distracted him from having to comment further.
"OK, I think that's all of it. Have you got some gauze I can wrap this up, or do I need to go down to the car for the first aid kit?"
A brief flash of embarrassment crossed Ezra's face as he realized the directions he would have to give. "There are appropriate supplies in the cabinet, behind where the mirror was previously located."
Nathan carefully opened the frame that now constituted a door, hoping to keep the remaining pieces from falling while Ezra was still in the room. He quickly found what was needed and collected the items. "Let's go sit somewhere to make this easier." He started steering Ezra toward the living room but was shrugged off. Instead, Ezra headed straight to his bedroom.
"I do not intend to sit out there in a towel being starred at or worse by the others while you finish a task I am perfectly capable of doing for myself." He reached out with the uninjured hand to take the supplies, but as he expected, was denied that opportunity.
Vin debated for a half a second whether or not to remind Ezra of his plan to 'air dry' in front of the group earlier. Doubting very much the jibe would be well accepted, he passed on the comment and turned away. "We'll be waiting for you with breakfast when Nathan is done. Stop fighting us all the time Pard. You ain't gonna win."
"You will find I am a very poor loser." Ezra muttered too quietly for anyone else to hear.
Vin sat heavily at the end of the couch, pushing aside the bunched up blanket. There were a couple of moment of silence before he finally spoke.
"Honest to God Chris, the man is more stubborn than you are, and I never thought I'd live to see the day I could say that about anyone."
Larabee nodded. "Can't deny he gives me a run for my money on that score. Difference is, I know when to back off on things." He looked up to see his two teammates staring at him in disbelief. "I didn't say I backed off, just that I know when I should."
"That will come as quite a surprise to Judge Travis, amoung others." Josiah offered a cockeyed grin. "I'm sure they would all like to witness it at some point."
"I'm not the issue here. The question at the moment is what do we do about Ezra?"
Shaking his head, Josiah said what they already knew. "Not really much that we can. If he is determined to sabotage himself every step of the way I don't think there is a great deal we can do to stop him."
Vin looked up. "You think that's what he's doing? What he's done?"
"From what I know of his background, what we all heard about his departure from the FBI and how things have played out in his time with us I would have to say the man has an innate ability to make life as difficult as possible for himself."
Thinking back over to the short and far to abrupt letter from Maude, Vin thought there was more too it than self-destruction. "My take is that he figures it's what he deserves. God knows why she put the idea there, but his mother certainly seemed to set him up with the notion he shouldn't expect anymore from life."
Chris had come to pretty much the same conclusion. "The woman does seem to be a piece of work alright."
"And this particular apple doesn't fall far from that tree, correct gentlemen?"
They all turned at the sound of Ezra's voice, totally caught unawareness. It said something about him that he could look righteously indignant while wearing a silk dressing gown.
"That's not –"
"While I have no choice but to accept your constant psychoanalysing of my own particular personality quirks I can see no justification for your desire to draw my mother into the discussion, or the relationship that we share. You are fortunate she was delayed in her arrival as that has spared you the scathing lecture with which she would favour you."
Wordlessly, Vin reached into his pocket and passed over the flattened out note they had found. Ezra went pale, whether from shock or outrage was impossible to determine, but likely both. His body went rigid and eyes narrowed. For one of the few times in his life, Chris understood what it was like to be on the receiving end of that much highly focused anger.
"It is not enough that you all feel you have the right to march into my home and settle in as if you had been invited. You stare at me while I sleep, deriding me and going to great pains to point out my numerous shortcomings, a task which I am quite certain presented no real challenge to you. But somehow, in addition to that violation you apparently have no compunction when it comes to invading my privacy on a fundamental level, reading correspondence that was clearing never intended for you."
"Now son –"
"I am not your son Mr. Sanchez. I have no relationship with any of you. Certainly not family, and apparently not friend. Having terminated my employment, I am no longer even a colleague. Given that situation I am asking – make that demanding – that you all leave my home immediately. Failure to do so will result in a call to the local police to have you treated as trespassers and, if need be, arrested. I expect you gone by the time I return."
His intention to storm out was blocked by Chris's swift movement.
"Now you listen. We'll leave, but only to give you time to calm down and think about what you really want to do here. In the first place, you didn't quit. You may have tried, but it didn't take. And in the second place, helping out somebody when they are too drunk and stupid to get home on their own is exactly what friends do, and that is all we – specifically Vin – did."
Seizing the opening, Vin interrupted. "And I'm sorry about the letter. You're right, we shouldn't have read it, but we did, and reading that kind of crap about a friend is something you just can't forget - or forgive."
Chris cut in again. "As for the deriding you point, well there you have me stumped. So when everybody is a little less riled up, we'll get to that. In the meantime, you go get yourself put together and dressed. We are all heading out to the ranch for Christmas Eve. Family style."
"Which part of my previous monologue did you fail to comprehend Mr. Larabee? You are not family and I have no desire or intention to spend Christmas eve, or any other night with you."
Chris took a step forward putting him nose to nose with Ezra. The fact the younger man didn't flinch was a either a testament to his nerves or confirmation of the fact he didn't know when to be afraid. "Your plans just changed. You either agree to get your ass out there by supper tonight or deal with the consequences of screwing around with me."
"Both prospects sound equally appealing. Now, take your leave gentlemen." Ezra sidestepped Chris and disappeared into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
"Damn fool is going to tear open those wounds again." Nathan muttered, concerned about what further damage Ezra might do to himself in this state.
"If that's all he does, I'll be relieved. You really think it's ok to leave him alone?"
Before Chris could answer Josiah, Vin spoke up. "Yeah. He's pissed, but not stupid." The buzzer from the lobby interrupted whatever he had planned to say next. "Come on. Let's go meet up with Buck and JD and have that breakfast. We'll sort the rest of this out tonight."
"So you think he'll show up?" Nathan asked.
"Bet my next paycheque on it."
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tbc