Call and Fold Part 4: The Seventh Day
Title: The Seventh Day
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, angst
Pairings: Chris/Ezra, Ezra/JD, Buck/JD
Disclaimer: I make no attempt to pretend that I own the Magnificent Seven
Summary: Josiah suspects there may be more going on than he's been told about
Part Four of the Call and Fold Series
They've been trailing Ezra for the better part of a week now, and hell if the boy isn't damned hard to trace when he doesn't want to be found.
They passed Eagle Bend four days ago. Vin thinks they're gaining on him, but it's hard to be sure. The tension in the air is almost tangible, so thick you could cut it with a knife: the trail is leading with unerring certainty to Ridge City, where the stagecoach route crosses the railroad. If Ezra reaches Ridge City before them, gets on a train...they'll never catch him.
For this reason, they make camp late and leave early. Josiah gets the impression that if they were out alone, Chris and Vin wouldn't stop at all. JD's brimming over with nervous energy too, hardly able to sit still even when they do make camp. Shadows under his eyes show how poorly he's been sleeping.
Now Josiah isn't stupid. He knows there's something going on here, something he hasn't been told about. No-one seems to know the exact circumstances surrounding Ezra's rather sudden departure.
But that isn't exactly true, is it? Vin knows what's going on, he'd stake his life on it: it's clear in the way he takes charge without seeming to realise he's doing so, occasional comments which mystify Josiah, but Chris and JD seem to understand. JD knows more than he's letting on too, and it's obvious that whatever it is has upset him. He makes plaintive little noises in his sleep, hands subconsciously reaching for someone who isn't there.
And Chris...he may know what happened, Josiah thinks, but he doesn't seem to understand. The troubled look in his eyes speaks of confusion and pain.
The sun dawns painfully bright over the trail to Ridge City, by which point they're already on their way. It's the seventh day since they left Four Corners. They're tired, true, but weary spirits are lifted by the discovery of the ashes of a campfire around noon. Vin declares it only a few hours cold, and stakes his reputation on Ezra having been there. The air of grim determination hanging over the group strengthens noticeably.
"What's the next town?" Josiah asks, eyes fixed on the burnt-out ashes.
"Hapley's Well," Vin replies; "We should get there not long after nightfall; a few hours behind Ezra."
"You mean we'll catch up with him tonight?" JD says, eyes bright with hope and something else Josiah can't quite put a name to. Vin casts a swift sideways glance at Chris, who hasn't moved a muscle since they stopped, and murmurs; "Hopefully."
They push themselves hard, well into twilight. No-one wants to even suggest slowing.
Sunset is perhaps an hour past when they crest a hill to see the lights of Hapley's Well spread out below them. It's a little larger than Four Corners, and a lot rowdier. Without a word they take their horses to the livery and split up to look for signs of their wayward seventh brother.
Josiah is passing a shabby, nameless saloon when he spots a distinctive flash of red inside. He hovers outside the door, hesitant, simultaneously relieved and unnerved at the appearance of the gambler holding court at a poker table within. At first glance he seems calm, confident, relaxed; in complete control of himself and everything around him. Only someone who knew him well would see the shuttered look in his eyes, know that the tension in his posture was unusual. He smiles at a fellow player, but there is no flash of gold and his eyes remain blank.
With the game in full swing, Ezra won't be going anywhere for a while. Josiah makes a hasty retreat before he is noticed and goes to find the others.
He finds JD first, coming out of the local hotel. At the news that Ezra has been found the young man gives a grin like the sun coming up. He volunteers to go fetch Chris and practically bounces away, calling over his shoulder that he saw Vin heading for the boarding house.
Vin's reaction to the news is not as blatant as JD's, but just as strong. He gives a quiet, pleased smile like that cat that's eaten the canary, and not for the first time Josiah wonders what everyone else seems to know that he doesn't.
They arrive at the saloon a little ahead of Chris and JD, and they wait at the door so all four of them can enter together. The patrons mostly ignore them, a few wary glances cast their way, but the four are concerned only with Ezra.
They watch him surreptitiously as they enter, and all see the gambler freeze; the briefest flash of panic showing before his poker face slams back into place. The other men at the table assess the situation with commendable swiftness of mind and flee with hastily mumbled apologies. Abruptly alone, Ezra's eyes harden.
Vin leans in close to Chris and murmurs softly; "Don't screw this up, cowboy." Josiah feels his eyebrows rise, and Vin shoots him a sharp look at JD's significantly cleared throat.
In Josiah's opinion, the situation is getting downright peculiar.
They settle themselves into seats around the table, effectively blocking any escape route. Ezra isn't going to give in easily though. He raises an eyebrow sardonically; "Good evening, gentlemen." His tone is polite, distant, just this side of bored. The same tone he would use to any stranger. Josiah doesn't like it, and judging by their expressions, the others don't either. He's seen Ezra worried, guilty, in pain...but nothing like this. He's hiding it well, but the southerer is scared half out of his mind.
"Ez," Vin says firmly, breaking the silence; "When're you comin' home?"
"Never having graced any locale by such an appellation, that would be an impossibility in and of itself, Mr. Tanner." A careless shrug; "If, however, you refer to my return to Four Corners, the succinct answer would be that I have no intentions of returning. Ever."
"Fairly certain we had a discussion about you runnin' out on me again." Chris' eyes are narrowed, his voice low.
"Unless you have unaccountably failed to receive my correspondence, you must realise that my departure was in everyone's best interests."
"Ezra..." JD's eyes are huge, pleading, and the wavering of the gambler's resolve is almost visible; "It's not like you thought it would be. He knows now - shouldn't you at least give him a chance?"
"Can you claim you would be any less wary in my position, Mr. Dunne?"
"Probably not," JD admits; "But I wouldn't have been able to leave in the first place. I sure as hell couldn't have left a letter like that."
"It mighta seemed like the best idea at the time, Ez," Vin backs JD up quietly; "But even if you won't admit to it, you read things wrong. I ain't sayin' you shouldn't have left, 'cause god know I woulda done the same, but you're five kinds of fool if you don't take a chance and come back with us."
Josiah wants to speak, to add his reassurances, but he's increasingly convinced that he doesn't know the half of what's going on. Why did Ezra run anyway? What exactly was in that letter, which Chris has consistently refused to let anyone else see? And more to the point, why does everyone else know more about it than he does?
Ezra rises abruptly to his feet, his eyes as hard and uncompromising as steel. "I thank you for your concern, gentlemen, but it is unnecessary. Good night." With a quick, jerky movement he touches his hatbrim briefly and slips past Vin to disappear out the batwing doors. Within a heartbeat JD has followed. Chris shoots to his feet with the same intent, but is stopped by Vin's hand on his shoulder.
"Best not. Reckon JD's the one to talk to him."
"How'd you figure?" Chris asks, understandably nonplussed.
"Not my place to say." Vin clears his throat a little awkwardly; "But JD knows more about what's going on than anyone except Ezra."
"I envy him that," Josiah says, folding his arms; "What just happened, Vin?"
"Ain't my story to tell..." Vin looks to Chris for support.
"Oh no, I'm with the preacher on this one. Talk."
Vin's glare could have rivaled Chris at his worst.
"Fine then," he snapped, slouching down into a chair; "But you got only yourself to blame if you don't like what you hear...and if that letter said what I reckon it did, you sure you want Josiah hearin' this?"
That statement only makes Josiah more determined to hear what he has to say, and Chris, though looking a little worried now, doesn't back down. Vin nods wearily as if he expected no less; "I want your word you won't mention this to another living soul."
"You have it."
"Likewise," Josiah agreed tersely; "Now why did Ezra run?"
Vin takes a deep breath and says bluntly; "He's scared witless 'cause he's fallen for Chris."
A long pause. Josiah runs that sentence through his head a few times to see if he can possibly make it mean something other than the obvious. He comes up blank. Vin is watching him warily, and Chris is staring at Vin like he's grown a second head. Josiah suspects he should be rather more shocked than he is, but something about the whole situation seems surreally logical.
"Oh," he says.
"How in the name of hell did you find out anyway?" Chris demands grouchily.
"Was pretty damn obvious if you were lookin' for it."
"And you were looking for it?"
"Gotta pass the time somehow, cowboy." The attempt at humour fell flat.
"But what does JD have to do with it?" Josiah still doesn't quite understand that part.
"I'm not-"
"Spill it, Vin."
"Don't wanna tell you. You'll get the wrong end of the stick and probably end up shootin' Ezra."
Josiah looks to his left to confirm that, yes, Chris is just as lost as he is.
"Well if you say he don't need shot for whatever he's done, I'll take your word for it," Chris says thoughtfully; "Can't guarantee I won't be pissed, though."
"S'pose that's the best I'm gettin'," Vin mutters; "Alright then. JD's in the same boat as Ez, 'cept it's Buck he's got his eye on. Reckon the two of 'em decided to...console each other a bit."
"What?"
"Hey, hey, you said you wouldn't shoot 'im! Calm down!"
Josiah tunes the other two out to concentrate on his own shattered images of his friends. On reflection, he decides ruefully, he was probably happier not knowing.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, angst
Pairings: Chris/Ezra, Ezra/JD, Buck/JD
Disclaimer: I make no attempt to pretend that I own the Magnificent Seven
Summary: Josiah suspects there may be more going on than he's been told about
Part Four of the Call and Fold Series
They've been trailing Ezra for the better part of a week now, and hell if the boy isn't damned hard to trace when he doesn't want to be found.
They passed Eagle Bend four days ago. Vin thinks they're gaining on him, but it's hard to be sure. The tension in the air is almost tangible, so thick you could cut it with a knife: the trail is leading with unerring certainty to Ridge City, where the stagecoach route crosses the railroad. If Ezra reaches Ridge City before them, gets on a train...they'll never catch him.
For this reason, they make camp late and leave early. Josiah gets the impression that if they were out alone, Chris and Vin wouldn't stop at all. JD's brimming over with nervous energy too, hardly able to sit still even when they do make camp. Shadows under his eyes show how poorly he's been sleeping.
Now Josiah isn't stupid. He knows there's something going on here, something he hasn't been told about. No-one seems to know the exact circumstances surrounding Ezra's rather sudden departure.
But that isn't exactly true, is it? Vin knows what's going on, he'd stake his life on it: it's clear in the way he takes charge without seeming to realise he's doing so, occasional comments which mystify Josiah, but Chris and JD seem to understand. JD knows more than he's letting on too, and it's obvious that whatever it is has upset him. He makes plaintive little noises in his sleep, hands subconsciously reaching for someone who isn't there.
And Chris...he may know what happened, Josiah thinks, but he doesn't seem to understand. The troubled look in his eyes speaks of confusion and pain.
The sun dawns painfully bright over the trail to Ridge City, by which point they're already on their way. It's the seventh day since they left Four Corners. They're tired, true, but weary spirits are lifted by the discovery of the ashes of a campfire around noon. Vin declares it only a few hours cold, and stakes his reputation on Ezra having been there. The air of grim determination hanging over the group strengthens noticeably.
"What's the next town?" Josiah asks, eyes fixed on the burnt-out ashes.
"Hapley's Well," Vin replies; "We should get there not long after nightfall; a few hours behind Ezra."
"You mean we'll catch up with him tonight?" JD says, eyes bright with hope and something else Josiah can't quite put a name to. Vin casts a swift sideways glance at Chris, who hasn't moved a muscle since they stopped, and murmurs; "Hopefully."
They push themselves hard, well into twilight. No-one wants to even suggest slowing.
Sunset is perhaps an hour past when they crest a hill to see the lights of Hapley's Well spread out below them. It's a little larger than Four Corners, and a lot rowdier. Without a word they take their horses to the livery and split up to look for signs of their wayward seventh brother.
Josiah is passing a shabby, nameless saloon when he spots a distinctive flash of red inside. He hovers outside the door, hesitant, simultaneously relieved and unnerved at the appearance of the gambler holding court at a poker table within. At first glance he seems calm, confident, relaxed; in complete control of himself and everything around him. Only someone who knew him well would see the shuttered look in his eyes, know that the tension in his posture was unusual. He smiles at a fellow player, but there is no flash of gold and his eyes remain blank.
With the game in full swing, Ezra won't be going anywhere for a while. Josiah makes a hasty retreat before he is noticed and goes to find the others.
He finds JD first, coming out of the local hotel. At the news that Ezra has been found the young man gives a grin like the sun coming up. He volunteers to go fetch Chris and practically bounces away, calling over his shoulder that he saw Vin heading for the boarding house.
Vin's reaction to the news is not as blatant as JD's, but just as strong. He gives a quiet, pleased smile like that cat that's eaten the canary, and not for the first time Josiah wonders what everyone else seems to know that he doesn't.
They arrive at the saloon a little ahead of Chris and JD, and they wait at the door so all four of them can enter together. The patrons mostly ignore them, a few wary glances cast their way, but the four are concerned only with Ezra.
They watch him surreptitiously as they enter, and all see the gambler freeze; the briefest flash of panic showing before his poker face slams back into place. The other men at the table assess the situation with commendable swiftness of mind and flee with hastily mumbled apologies. Abruptly alone, Ezra's eyes harden.
Vin leans in close to Chris and murmurs softly; "Don't screw this up, cowboy." Josiah feels his eyebrows rise, and Vin shoots him a sharp look at JD's significantly cleared throat.
In Josiah's opinion, the situation is getting downright peculiar.
They settle themselves into seats around the table, effectively blocking any escape route. Ezra isn't going to give in easily though. He raises an eyebrow sardonically; "Good evening, gentlemen." His tone is polite, distant, just this side of bored. The same tone he would use to any stranger. Josiah doesn't like it, and judging by their expressions, the others don't either. He's seen Ezra worried, guilty, in pain...but nothing like this. He's hiding it well, but the southerer is scared half out of his mind.
"Ez," Vin says firmly, breaking the silence; "When're you comin' home?"
"Never having graced any locale by such an appellation, that would be an impossibility in and of itself, Mr. Tanner." A careless shrug; "If, however, you refer to my return to Four Corners, the succinct answer would be that I have no intentions of returning. Ever."
"Fairly certain we had a discussion about you runnin' out on me again." Chris' eyes are narrowed, his voice low.
"Unless you have unaccountably failed to receive my correspondence, you must realise that my departure was in everyone's best interests."
"Ezra..." JD's eyes are huge, pleading, and the wavering of the gambler's resolve is almost visible; "It's not like you thought it would be. He knows now - shouldn't you at least give him a chance?"
"Can you claim you would be any less wary in my position, Mr. Dunne?"
"Probably not," JD admits; "But I wouldn't have been able to leave in the first place. I sure as hell couldn't have left a letter like that."
"It mighta seemed like the best idea at the time, Ez," Vin backs JD up quietly; "But even if you won't admit to it, you read things wrong. I ain't sayin' you shouldn't have left, 'cause god know I woulda done the same, but you're five kinds of fool if you don't take a chance and come back with us."
Josiah wants to speak, to add his reassurances, but he's increasingly convinced that he doesn't know the half of what's going on. Why did Ezra run anyway? What exactly was in that letter, which Chris has consistently refused to let anyone else see? And more to the point, why does everyone else know more about it than he does?
Ezra rises abruptly to his feet, his eyes as hard and uncompromising as steel. "I thank you for your concern, gentlemen, but it is unnecessary. Good night." With a quick, jerky movement he touches his hatbrim briefly and slips past Vin to disappear out the batwing doors. Within a heartbeat JD has followed. Chris shoots to his feet with the same intent, but is stopped by Vin's hand on his shoulder.
"Best not. Reckon JD's the one to talk to him."
"How'd you figure?" Chris asks, understandably nonplussed.
"Not my place to say." Vin clears his throat a little awkwardly; "But JD knows more about what's going on than anyone except Ezra."
"I envy him that," Josiah says, folding his arms; "What just happened, Vin?"
"Ain't my story to tell..." Vin looks to Chris for support.
"Oh no, I'm with the preacher on this one. Talk."
Vin's glare could have rivaled Chris at his worst.
"Fine then," he snapped, slouching down into a chair; "But you got only yourself to blame if you don't like what you hear...and if that letter said what I reckon it did, you sure you want Josiah hearin' this?"
That statement only makes Josiah more determined to hear what he has to say, and Chris, though looking a little worried now, doesn't back down. Vin nods wearily as if he expected no less; "I want your word you won't mention this to another living soul."
"You have it."
"Likewise," Josiah agreed tersely; "Now why did Ezra run?"
Vin takes a deep breath and says bluntly; "He's scared witless 'cause he's fallen for Chris."
A long pause. Josiah runs that sentence through his head a few times to see if he can possibly make it mean something other than the obvious. He comes up blank. Vin is watching him warily, and Chris is staring at Vin like he's grown a second head. Josiah suspects he should be rather more shocked than he is, but something about the whole situation seems surreally logical.
"Oh," he says.
"How in the name of hell did you find out anyway?" Chris demands grouchily.
"Was pretty damn obvious if you were lookin' for it."
"And you were looking for it?"
"Gotta pass the time somehow, cowboy." The attempt at humour fell flat.
"But what does JD have to do with it?" Josiah still doesn't quite understand that part.
"I'm not-"
"Spill it, Vin."
"Don't wanna tell you. You'll get the wrong end of the stick and probably end up shootin' Ezra."
Josiah looks to his left to confirm that, yes, Chris is just as lost as he is.
"Well if you say he don't need shot for whatever he's done, I'll take your word for it," Chris says thoughtfully; "Can't guarantee I won't be pissed, though."
"S'pose that's the best I'm gettin'," Vin mutters; "Alright then. JD's in the same boat as Ez, 'cept it's Buck he's got his eye on. Reckon the two of 'em decided to...console each other a bit."
"What?"
"Hey, hey, you said you wouldn't shoot 'im! Calm down!"
Josiah tunes the other two out to concentrate on his own shattered images of his friends. On reflection, he decides ruefully, he was probably happier not knowing.