A/N: Hey everybody :) Yes, I am alive, and no, this has not abandoned-but add real life to the fact that the 'two scenes' I thought I had left to write wound up instead being so many pages the last chapter is now three chapters and half an epilogue, this had a lot more work left to it than I thought when I first published. Your guys thoughtful reviews made me want to flesh out certain people more and reconsider some other things, and whoo. That took forever! I am quite proud of how this has turned out, but apologize for leaving you all hanging so long. This chapter is a little short, but hopefully very satisfying. And chapter eight is all finished except for some polishing(Thank you MamaBear for looking it over and answering/suggesting things to my notes/questions!), but as it's the last day of my weekend it might be about a week before I get it up. And I won't lie, chapter nine is at the finish a few scenes/maybe add one point, but as everything that needed to be explored will have been by then I don't anticipate it growing and growing until it somehow splits into three chapters of its own.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it! Happy reading!

Nathan's feet felt heavy as he dragged them up the church steps, boards groaning a little at his slow steps. He'd just stood there for a long while, in the clinic, shocked and weighed down, and really the only thing that had changed was that he was finally moving.

If he were honest there had probably been more than once that his own thoughts, and even a time or two words, had been less than charitable to Ezra. Had seen the arrogance, the sneakiness, and it had taken him awhile to look deeper. The boy's attitude when he first arrived, particularly towards Nathan, had given him every excuse in the world to not. In front of the wide, slightly battered, doors, whitewash still shiny from Josiah's recent touch-up, the healer found himself just staring, drained. If he were really honest, Nathan would admit it wasn't only Ezra's attitude that had needed some adjusting. But, never, ever, even at his most irritated and fed-up had he been so callous, so careless, as he'd been when talking about the Raley boy that day. Would never have been. Buck was Nathan's family, had been for awhile, and Ezra was Buck's. Hadn't taken too long for that to come to its natural conclusion.

Acknowledging the twinge of guilt that he'd been so harsh towards Eli, towards any child, really, whether he liked them or not, Nathan wondered if Ezra would ever really, truly, trust any of them. It didn't seem that it had even occurred to him that they could have been talking about another boy. On the one hand, Nathan moving to start pulling open one of the heavy doors as his thoughts turned, there weren't too many others around, but on the other, there were a handful he could've gone through. Stepping through into the quiet, dark interior of the church as he took off his hat, Nathan pulled the door shut behind him as he let his eyes adjust. Place got dusty enough without him inviting it in. Not hearing anything but his steps as he walked forward, he called out, "Josiah?" in a low, but carrying, tone.

Nothing. Nathan waited another moment, listening, but he already knew the church was empty.

Figured. Josiah would be over at the saloon, and really Nathan should've known that. After the scare they'd had the man would be wanting a drink or two, and while he wouldn't be likely to get drunk with the chance either Buck or Ezra might need him, he wouldn't be denying himself either. Nathan considered joining him, knew that the others except for Buck would likely be there, or would be there soon. Instead he found himself walking up the rest of the aisle and sinking down in the first pew. Josiah needed to know what had happened, and Nathan would tell him, but his own thoughts could do with some sorting out first. This was a better place than most for that.

He didn't get more than a few minutes in before he could hear Josiah coming in through the backdoor and straight into his little bedroom. Nathan hesitated, feeling a bit like an intruder now. For some reason he'd expected Josiah to almost sense his presence, to know someone was in the church at least, though it sounded like a ridiculous notion once he'd put the thought into words.

So, of course, that was when Josiah stuck his head out into the small hall the back entrance and two rooms created, and asked, "You needing some more time for reflection or are you going to come back and say hello?" His tone was just a bit teasing, light, and it had Nathan's lips curving up even as the weight in his stomach stayed the same.

"Suppose I can reflect with company as well as I can by myself." As he pushed himself up, Nathan stretched a little, more from needing something to do with himself than from any stiffness. Josiah had disappeared back into his room and Nathan could hear him bustling around in there as he walked around the pulpit and the worn bible laid open on it-for in case the Lord's comfort was needed when he wasn't around, Josiah always said.

The feeling of being an intruder was gone with his friend's invitation, but Nathan still felt that knot in his stomach as he stepped through the doorway and saw that the two patched together chairs Josiah had salvaged had been pulled away from the corner they were usually stashed in. It tightened at the idea of telling Josiah that it had been their conversation, overheard somehow, that had sent Ezra running off in such a dangerous way, even as he had to grin at the man currently standing by his dresser, filling a couple of dented tin cups with rot gut. For all Nathan turned to Josiah for guidance, Josiah tended to look first to his bible, then, if that didn't work, to the closest bottle. Maybe not something that should make Nathan grin, but when the man smiled at him again and held out the cup, he couldn't help it, even as he shook his head. "Coming back from the saloon to have a drink seems a mite backwards, Josiah."

"Ah, brother, but you forget-one has to pay at the saloon. And my pockets aren't any too deep at the moment." Nathan accepted the cup and took a sip, it would help steady his nerves if nothing else-only to about choke as Josiah concluded, musing into his cup, "Or at any moment."

Coughing a little as a now concerned preacher pounded him on the back and Nathan tried to shrug him off, he spluttered, "Don't do that when a man is taking a drink."

"Hell, brother, didn't know I was that much of a wit." Josiah's eyes were crinkled up around the corners as his concern turned to amusement and Nathan rolled his at him. The older man, having decided he was alright, turned his attention to putting the lid back on the bottle-though Nathan noticed he left it out-and Nathan decided he might as well sit in the offered chair and try and take a drink without coughing it right back up again.

Though rot gut wasn't an exaggeration, Nathan taking a long sip of something that he didn't think actually qualified as whiskey and fighting a grimace. Looking up at the bottle on the dresser and seeing the lack of a label he wondered where Josiah had got it, because it sure hadn't been in the saloon. Chris's red eye wasn't half as bad, and it was downright terrible.

He was silent, still not sure how to bring up what he'd learned and not as distracted by thoughts about truly awful whiskey as he might like when Josiah settled himself into the chair next to his and raised an eyebrow. "Got some deep thoughts going on there, brother. Want to share them?" Shifting in his chair and ignoring the ominous sounding creak with long practice, Nathan nodded and then knocked back a slug for courage.

And had to fight not to cough again as it burned its way down. "Jeez, Josiah what is this stuff?"

"Whiskey, what else would it be?" Nathan looked doubtfully down at his glass as Josiah grinned at him. Tossing back a mouthful of his own, Josiah shuddered as it settled and then fixed Nathan with a more serious look. "Now, what's weighing so heavy on your mind? Our young brethren's misadventure?"

With a sigh, Nathan decided to just get it over with. "Ezra overheard part of our conversation about Eli this morning. Only, he thought we were talking about him."

There was a pause as Josiah absorbed his words, eyes briefly closing as though they pained him. "And that's why he ran off."

It wasn't a question, but Nathan answered anyway. "Yep. That's why." Staring into the tin cup in his hand, he wished it actually had the answers he was looking for.

Ezra did his best to compose himself, but it was hard when he was still all but plastered to his cousin. He was not entirely sure he wanted to move, but he was certain that he should. After all, he was thirteen, and had already shed a preposterous amount of tears.

Finally, when the awkwardness began to truly outweigh the comfort, Ezra pulled himself back and Buck let him go, patting softly at his shoulder as he leaned away. Ezra waited uneasily for his cousin to say something. Much had been explained with the knowledge that it was Eli the older men had been talking about-not that it wasn't patently unkind of them to be so critical of Eli-but things still had a sense of rawness to them that Ezra would rather like to go away. With Mother, anything this emotional would've been swept under the rug as soon as it passed, and that seemed rather preferable to what he was sure would be Buck hovering over him for days.

For just a moment he longed for the press of his mother's arms and her perfume. It had been so long.

Shaking his head, Ezra reminded himself that his mother wasn't here, and that she would likely have had far less patience for any running off than his cousin if she had been. She would have looked for him, or rather hired someone to do so, but she would have been furious once he was located.

She would have held him first, just as Cousin Buck had when he'd been found, Ezra was sure of that, if only of that.

Forcing down the unbidden question of whether Mother would have been as worried as Buck had been, Ezra did his best to sense what his cousin would do next. "You think you're up for us talking a bit more about this?" It was only partially a question, Buck's eyes expectant as he finished climbing to his feet and resettled a large hand on Ezra's shoulder.

"Ah believe most of the particulars have already been hashed out." He did his best to sound confident, but was under no illusions that he had succeeded. Buck nodded a little, but then shook his head in the same movement and Ezra found himself surprised at how wrong-footed it left him feeling. His cousin had assured him thoroughly that he had been entirely mistaken in the words he overheard, and despite himself Ezra believed him.

What else was there to discuss?

He had ventured out of town without informing anyone…and neglected the basic safety measure of bringing his canteen. Swallowing, the boy hung his head and missed the confused frown on Buck's face. It was impossible to miss being pushed lightly in the direction of his bed, and braving a glance at Buck, Ezra was no more enlightened than he had been as his cousin certainly didn't seem stern. Solemn perhaps, but not severe. "Seems to me, that if everything was as clear between us as it should be you might've thought twice before thinking we were talking about you."

Externally, Ezra did his best to keep his face smooth, but internally he'd just blinked in surprise. It was better than the scolding he had been anticipating, surely, but what in the world was he supposed to say to that? Ezra always had something to say, something clever that could demonstrate his point, something smooth and witty to impress looker-ons. But he could think of nothing adequate to either answer Buck's question or to change the subject to something more pleasant. Not that Buck, gesturing for Ezra to take a seat on the bed, seemed to expect an answer from him.

Truly, until he had heard that dreadful conversation Ezra had not doubted that his cousin enjoyed his company. Not since shortly after he'd come to stay. Buck was always so cheerful, always so enthusiastic about whatever Ezra had to tell him, and he had stayed that way long after many of his other relatives would have grown sick of his presence.

But…

It had been eight months now he'd resided in Four Corners, and suddenly Ezra could hear his mother's voice reminding him that it was never wise to wear out one's welcome...

"Pard? Think I lost you for a minute there?" Slightly dismayed that Buck was at least partially correct, while he had been aware of his cousin settling next to him he had been intent enough on his thoughts that he hadn't actually reacted to it, Ezra pulled off what he thought was a perfectly casual shrug.

"Ah believe mah journey may be catching up to me. Mr. Jackson did recommend rest as well as hydration."

Buck's face took on a twinge of knowing that Ezra found both frustrating and reassuring. So much for perfectly casual. Mother would have told him he was slipping, for someone without their 'natural gifts' to be able to read him, but, well…part of him rather liked that Buck could. "That is true, Hoss, but we need to do a little more talking first." Shifting slightly, still expecting that this continued talking would be unpleasant, either in ways he could predict and dreaded, or worse, in ways he could not predict that would slice deepest, Ezra bit his tongue against the torrent of protests he could feel building in the back of his throat. "Now," his cousin seemed nervous, Ezra realized. Not in any large way, but it was there, lurking in the back of the tall man's eyes, in the way he let his hands fall across his lap.

He didn't care for that. While he was well aware that there were probably innumerable reasons for his cousin to have some apprehension none that Ezra could think of were remotely reassuring.

"Now," Buck repeated himself and Ezra sat on tenterhooks, "by blood we're cousins, kind of distant ones at that," it felt as though the blood Buck was speaking of had stilled in Ezra's veins, "but the truth is you've come to mean a lot more to me than just the blood between us. Even if we weren't related at all I'd still want you with me, because you're family and blood doesn't have all that much to do with that as far as I'm concerned."

Fighting a flush at the sentiment, Ezra found himself searching for words he didn't have and wouldn't know how to use if he had located them. What Buck was saying was extraordinary, yet at the same time it was a logical conclusion if Ezra believed what he had said and implied in his earlier explanation. His eyes found their way to his lap without his having allowed it and a loose string on his quilt made a useful distraction for his fingers.

He did have faith that Buck had been speaking truthfully, he did-so why was his heart hammering in his chest? Why was his mouth dry and why couldn't things just go back to how they were before this dreadful day?

To Ezra's undying horror a small noise that one could interpret as a sniffle left his nose and he did his best to halt the possibility of anymore by sucking in a slow breath and holding it briefly. Of course, this did not solve the problem of coming up with some sort of answer for his cousin. It felt as though the man had stopped speaking ages ago. Surely, it had only been a few seconds-yet, it might as well have been hours.

Ezra opened his mouth, knowing he had to say something, but entirely uncomfortable with the only real possibilities he could think of. A mad scramble to analyze everything his cousin had said and make sure Ezra was not misinterpreting it in a way that would cause later inconveniences was occupying a large portion of his brain, leaving room for little else. Telling himself that it was unnecessary had little effect on such an ingrained habit. Buck's arm moved to lay across his shoulders, and his voice, soft and husky, soothed, "Aw, heck, pard, I guess I ain't saying none of this right at all. I'm trying to tell ya I love you like my own boy, and that's just the way it is, not something that can change once it happens. Do you understand, Ezra?"

Ezra swallowed. He nodded, trying to keep his voice steady even as he did not entirely choose the next words that came out of his mouth. "Like JD?" There was a pause, and then Buck's arm was pulling him even closer, his chin coming to rest on Ezra's head.

"Yeah, Ez. I got two boys I love a whole lot, and reckon I'm about the luckiest man this side of Dixie 'cause of it."