Chris:
My friend, (and I can say in my heart I know that to be an apt declaration), I sincerely hope and pray that whatever led to your receiving this letter is not an occurrence you interpret as my running out on you. That is something I vowed to never again do.
For someone who had a reputation for selecting precise and deliberate vocabulary at all times, I continually found myself at a loss for a manner in which to express my deep and eternal gratitude to you for your unwarranted (at the time) faith in me. Never before had anyone, and I do mean anyone, deemed me worthy of a second chance. A renewed opportunity to turn myself around.
There is no question in my mind that you have had cause to lament your invitation to me. I choose to believe those instances have been few, and one can only hope, fleeting. I do know there have been moments, what with me being me and you being you, but please believe I only tested the boundaries of your patience when I had no option – usually.
There has never been a moment that I regretted accepting the more than generous opportunity you gifted me with. That includes the moment at which time whatever has led to my death occurred. I can only hope I met with an honourable demise, serving you and the team in a manner that properly reflects my deep regard and respect for all of you.
Despite the fact that you have already done for me more than anyone else has, I will presume to ask one final favour. Do not allow this, whatever it was, to destroy the team. I am not worth that cost.
Do not misunderstand that. I have come to accept that, for reasons I never was able to fathom, you all have deemed me deserving of the friendship everyone has bestowed on me. Given the respect I have for your judgement, I humbly accept such a designation. When I say I am not worth it, what I am trying to express is that my departure is not a justification for allowing our band to – well to disband. If despair takes hold, I fear the team may disintegrate under the load. No one individual, least of all a reprobate such as myself, should be the catalyst of such an event.
They will listen to you. They will follow your advice. They will follow you. If you choose to wallow in what I know is unwarranted guilt and sorrow, if you choose to let the loss of one member of the team eat away at you, they will do the same. This team, what we have done, and what you all can still do is far too important. It is bigger than me, bigger than any one of us. I know there is not one of you who would want the team to disperse on their account. I am entrusting you to ensure it does not do so on mine.
Chris sat by the bed as he read his letter. "Never go in for half measures, do you Standish?" Chris mumbled to the comatose agent. He knew exactly how this was going to affect the team – and each man in it. Keeping them together, keeping them functional was going to be more than a challenge. Leave it to Standish to make it a final request.
He looked over the message again. "Damn right I 'lamented' it sometimes. You could be the most obstinate, irritating, exasperating man to ever draw a breath. Next to me of course. Surprised we never came to blows, not that that would be your style." He'd briefly lost his temper with the man when he read "not worth it", calming a little as he went on. "You are not a reprobate – least ways not anymore."
He sighed deeply, reaching up and taking Ezra's hand in his. "I don't have a lot of friends either Ezra. Never seemed to be able to keep any. Most folks don't have the tolerance for putting up with me. You – you seemed to revel in my attitude. Yeah – you push the limits, and don't think I don't know you enjoy every minute of it. Truth is, so did I some of the time.
Anyway – I'll make you a promise to do the best I can with these guys. You may have more confidence in me than I deserve on this, and I'm not sure all things considered that they'll listen to me, but I promise to try. And you know how I feel about people who don't keep promises."
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Josiah:
In many ways I fear that this will be harder on you than on any of our teammates. My deep concern for you is that this may all somehow cause you to question yourself, or your faith. While it is a faith I never was able to share, I always admired your adherence to your beliefs, and envied you the comfort you found in them. I also know you perch at the edge of holding onto that conviction at times, particularly when your heart is broken.
I cannot pretend to understand why you have taken the paternal interest in me that you have elected to, but I was always deeply moved by the fact you did. While I appeared unwilling over time to accept such attentiveness, it was never because it was not cherished. I questioned my worthiness, and the association I had toward the idea of fatherhood. My own father never played an active role in my life, though I spent much of my childhood imaging the possibility. I learned over time his absence was not entirely of his own volition, but that did not lessen my ambiguous feelings toward the man. Every time you called me son, I was torn between those feelings, and my wish that there had been some truth in your reference.
The fact that, at this stage in my life, someone would look upon me in that way, care about me in that way, is a concept I had a great deal of trouble coming to accept. Slowly, thanks to your complete unwillingness to surrender the idea, I came to understand your intention. I found myself inordinately pleased to see acceptance, caring, and even pride in your face. And equally anguished to see disappointment or distress from time to time. I discovered I was making a concerted effort to avoid seeing those looks again, and realized I had finally learned what it meant to have a parent you desperately sought to please, and who still accepted you even when you failed in that goal.
You did fulfill the role in your own way for me though, and for that I shall always be grateful. Now I ask of you to provide that same guidance to the remainder of the team. They may not know they are looking for direction, but I know they will be. Chris will do his best to continue his superlative role as leader, and in that capacity I have no doubt he will succeed in keeping the team united. But you, my dear friend, are the one who can keep the soul of the team alive. That is no simple task, but I have no doubt you are more than equal to it. That is the faith I have in you.
Josiah rested his bowed head in his hands. Pulling himself together he sat up, leaning back on the bench in the courtyard where he had escaped to for privacy. These words, these feelings, were not what he'd expected to read. He'd always supposed Ezra resented his paternal feelings – believing the profiler had overstepped himself in venturing to assume such a role.
He never dreamt that it was because the young man himself felt unworthy of it. Ezra presented himself as confidence personified. Doubt did not exist in the image created. And that there were issues with his father? Not really surprising, knowing what he did of Ezra's mother, but still not an issue he'd ever given any consideration. An ironic turn when he stopped to consider his own paternal issues.
Seeing these words, knowing that Ezra had actually made the effort to make him proud was almost more than he could bear. Why had they never had this discussion before? Why did it require something like this to occur before people understood how important they were to each other?
What saddened him most was the realization he was going to fail his friend, his son, at the worst possible time. He saw no way he could provide guidance and heal the soul of the team. Ezra had been right in his fear. This experience had left the ex-preacher shattered in his convictions. He had difficulty tolerating loss and waste when he saw it daily in the course of his job. But to see it in front of him, to see Ezra cut down in such a merciless and pointless manner was more than he could accept.
"I'm so sorry son" he thought to himself, "but your faith has been seriously misplaced this time."
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John:
I know it isn't your preference, but for this singular occasion please allow me the liberty of addressing you by your given name. John, you are a fine operative, a first-rate computer expert, but most importantly, a true blessing in my world. My formative years, and subsequent time in law enforcement left me more than a tad skeptical in my view of the world. Your enthusiasm and exuberance reminded me that life is not always meant to be seen through jaded eyes, and served to restore my faded belief in human nature. Your view of the world is not youthful naivety as some will try to say. No, yours is a natural optimism. A refusal to accept anything less than a positive outcome. Don't ever allow yourself to lose that outlook. Cynicism and bitterness will destroy you – I know whereof I speak on that.
Please don't let whatever has happened now dampen that enthusiasm. The others in our group will need to be reminded of delight that comes in living with optimism. Share your simple passion for living with them. Learn from them, but do not allow them to assume your youth equates an ignorance or inability to do your job. You have great instincts – trust them.
I am trusting in you to keep hope alive in our group. They will present a challenge, but I have no doubt you are more than equal to the task.
Two final points. I'm asking you to take care of Chaucer for me. I know he'll be well cared for at Chris's ranch, but he needs someone to take him in hand. To know someone is taking care of him. And for God's sake - propose to Casey. You will never find a more perfect match for your outlook on life.
JD looked at the note in his hand, wishing his writing was a good looking as Ezra's. For that matter, wishing he had half the vocabulary the man did. He could say something in 5 words, but why to that when you can use 10, each with more syllables than any word should need. Thinking about stuff like that meant he didn't have to think about the letter itself.
He shifted on the small sofa, looking around him at the empty solarium. No matter how hard they tried, this place simply couldn't look cheery.
Ezra wanted him to keep hope alive. How could he do that when he had so little of his own left? That other letter, the one Vin let everyone read, that pretty much said Ezra was going to die. Was really already dead. Every time he looked at him in that bed – sterile white sheets, hospital walls. That wasn't right. The man was nothing but colour, and seeing him in the drab existence of an institution like this? No, the truth was, JD realized sadly, he had no hope left to share.
He took a deep breath and set his shoulders back, sitting up straight. So, he'd have to find some. You don't deny a man his dying wish, especially not when the man was someone like Ezra. Someone who taught him how to win at poker. He'd always known how to play, but now he had the subtleties that would let him win against just about anybody – except the master. Ezra was always quietly supporting him, encouraging him to stand up to the others and assert himself. So if Ezra thought he could bolster the team, then damn it – he would.
Proposing? Well, just maybe Ezra had a bit more faith in him than was deserved. Still, he'd been right about so many other things. JD puzzled out his options while staring out the window.
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Buck:
Never, in all my years and my wide scope of encounters, have I chanced upon an individual with as much pure joie de vivre as you possess. A truly indomitable spirit, which served to brighten even my darkest days. That is a remarkable capability to possess, and one that I long envied. I have never been anywhere close to as truly, deeply, genuinely happy as you appear to be almost daily. I hope to the depths of my soul that whatever has happened now does not extinguish that spark. The others will need you to bring them up from what I know will be some despair.
Chris, Vin and Josiah in particular will no doubt be finding ways to place the blame for whatever has happened solely on their own shoulders. Nathan too will take on unwarranted culpability if he sees my passing as something he should have been better trained to prevent. JD will no doubt think his youth and inexperience played a role in all of this. You too, have been known to take on far more guilt than is warranted, though you hide it better than the others, who wear angst almost like a badge of honour. But I am an observer my friend. I see those moments you quietly brood. Please – don't allow that to happen to you – to any of you. I am entrusting you with the happiness of our team.
I realize that it may be a difficult task I leave to you. As I said, our group is quite proficient at anguish and recrimination. But I have seen you persist in cajoling a smile out of each and every one of them, and I reluctantly admit, out of me, at times when nothing should have been able to raise our spirits. I know you can be delegated to ensure that my passing will not be an lingering source of melancholy to my dearest friends.
Please – be happy, and continue to help others do the same. That is how you can best honour my memory.
Buck leaned against the wall in the hospital corridor. He'd watch JD from a distance as the younger man read his letter. A few moments later he could literally watch him come to a decision, resolving to acted upon something inspired by Ezra's words. He'd had no intention of reading his own letter, at least not yet. Wasn't ready to say goodbye; to make anything more real than it was. Still, JD seemed a bit more, well he didn't know what the word was, but he couldn't help but think whatever had been on the paper was just what the kid needed. Figured. Ezra may put on that he was a one-man operation, and the rest of the world be damned, but there was no doubt that he truly cared for each of the men on the team. Buck sometimes figured Ezra'd figured them all out the first day he was there, and just worked on refining his opinion ever since.
With only a small amount of trepidation, Buck opened his envelope. He was almost immediately puzzled. Ezra envied him. The man had style, class, confidence and charm, yet he envied him? He'd never been truly happy. That was just wrong. Buck had always assumed, from the stories and adventures, that Ezra had enjoyed life to the fullest. Now, to find that wasn't the case. Well that's just wrong.
The rest was wrong too. Oh, not that they'd all feel guilt about it. That went without saying. But the idea the Buck Wilmington would somehow be able to stay happy with everything going on, and to make sure everyone else was happy – well that was more that wrong. That was bat-shit crazy.
He looked down the hall again where JD was now staring out the window with the hint of a smile crossing his face. What could Ezra have said to him to get the Kid grinning at a time like this? He looked back at the letter again. "Well Ezra" he thought "if you're looking for someone suited to taking on a job that was bat-shit crazy, I guess you're right – I'm your man."
As he walked to join JD he forced a phony smile on his face. Then, imagining the look Ezra would be giving him at the effort he found a genuine smile replacing it. He placed a hand on the younger agent's shoulder and was relieved to see the small smiled remained there as well.
"You know Buck – no matter what happens, I think Ezra's always gonna be with us."
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Nathan:
You, as it turns out my friend, have proved to be the hardest of our teammates for me to write to. In many ways, I remain uncertain as to just where we stand. I have presumed to call you friend, because on evaluation, if the tables were turned, and it was I mourning your loss, it would be the loss not of a colleague, but a friend. One who challenged me on a regular basis to be better than what I allowed myself to be. One who saw in me a potential for more than I was.
My moral code never quite lived up to yours. I was raised with different values, different beliefs. Many of those I shed over the years, as age and experience taught me the truth of the world. Some of my ideologies were slower to adjust than others, and I am grateful to you for providing to me the impetus to continue my personal growth. Your restorative skills go far beyond the physical healing you have provided over time.
At times I wonder if you feel like the teacher in a kindergarten, surrounded by unruly children. Or the last sane man trapped with 6 volatile and unpredictable companions. And yet, you remained the voice of reason in our strange little troupe, never surrendering to what must have been a prodigious desire to throw your hands up in frustration. Believe me, I know I was undoubtedly the leading cause of your consternation and exasperation. I should have found the strength to move past our differences to demonstrate my respect and admiration for you. To let you know I cherish the fact that you saw past my sins to accept me for, or more accurately in spite of, myself. Perhaps, in time I might have been able to live up to your moral standards, as they were a worthy goal to strive for.
It is no small favour when I beseech you to impress those standards on our remaining friends in the days, weeks and even months ahead. I know these gentlemen well enough to know that if I have come to my end at the hands of others, they will take it upon themselves to balance the scale. You alone may be the only voice that can keep them from taking their desire for justice too far. They are all honourable men, men of principle. But I fear loyalty and retribution may turn to vengeance. I know you can help them to see the difference, and to remind them that they too have a far higher moral code than those they would seek to punish. I entrust you to be their conscience at a time they may not be seeing the path clearly. I know you have the strength to guide them.
"What on earth made Ezra think I ever thought of myself as sane. Would a sane man put up with all of you?" Nathan wondered
"You say something?" He looked across the table to see Raine looking at him with concern in her eyes. She knew what he was reading, and was more than worried about his response.
"Ezra could always take the simplest thing and make it complicated, but also narrow the most complex idea to a single statement. Describes me as a kindergarten teacher to our group."
"Well, there are times…" she grinned at him.
"He overestimated me." Nathan smile faded. "He talks about my voice of reason, my moral code. My character! Hell, if I had the character he seems to think, I'd never have been judging him like I did. I never took the time to try to really get to know him. Assumed the worst based on rumors and stereotypes. How does that make me a man of character?"
She took his hand, reaching for the note at the same time and scanning it. "What matters Nathan, is how he saw you – and how that helped him."
"Says I made him a better man. Pretty sure he turned out to be a better man than I am. Now I'm supposed to be some kind of conscience to the others. How could he think I was the right man for that job?"
"Well, I happen to agree with him on that, but we can discuss that some other time. All you need to know is that he believed it to be the case."
"Why didn't he know he was my friend?" Nathan fought to speak without letting the tears fall.
"He did. He never would have written this otherwise. Trust me honey, he knew."
"Not sure I deserve it."
"Then earn it. Do what he asked of you. Be the man he thinks you are."
Nathan looked up and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Not sure I deserve you either."
"You don't, but I love you anyway."
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VIN:
To quote a film classic – I think I will miss you most of all. Words cannot convey my pleasure and astonishment in acknowledging I have formed such deep and powerful friendships as with all of these magnificent men, I am most grateful for the connection the two of us have forged. Never did I expect to find a kindred spirit. Another soul who could understand things about me that I did not even comprehend myself.
Although I do not for a moment claim to have your moral fiber, or your code of ethics, I do believe we have a mutual understanding of the ways of the world, and of our respective roles in trying to ensuring a tipping of the scales in favour of good over evil. There is no manner to express the pride and gratitude I feel in being able to share that with you.
You are, in many ways, the man I wished to have been. Neither of us had a childhood of privilege, but you found the way to rise above your unfortunate circumstances, where I tended for years to wallow in mine. You helped me see past that, and I chose to believe that helped to make me a better man.
And now, I impose upon you for one final favour. I have asked of all our friends to share their strengths with the others. Their joie de vivre, enthusiasm, moral code, spirit, and leadership. From you, I ask the daunting task of ensuring they all follow my request. You have a way of reading people that is second only to mine, and you have always used yours for the betterment of others. You sense when one of the others is in despair, is anxious, is in doubt. You can be the one to move them past those moments.
I lied. I ask a second favour of you. Actually more important than the first. I want you –no, I need you – to live your life for me. Do not let whatever it was that brought me down to the same to you. Accept that I died a better man than I would have been had I never met you. All of you. Knowing that you honour this will allow me to rest.
Vin lay on his bed at home and read the letter twice. He knew he couldn't do what was being asked of him. Not now. Maybe not ever. It was too much. "I'm sorry Pard," he thought. "For now, I look after you. The others are gonna have to get by on their own. For now, and for as long as it takes, I take care of you. Then – if I survive this, I'll try."
He read the letter again, folded it carefully, turned his fact into the pillow and softly cried himself to sleep.
TBC
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