~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'

Part 2

Ezra threw his head left and right. He struggled to free his shoulders of the weight that kept him pinned to the bed. Voices shouted at him. Something pinned his arm. Trapped it.

He kicked out. Panic seized him when his legs became ensnared in something moveable but inescapable.

He screamed again, watching as the boat toppled onto the Van. Buck and JD! A sharp hoarse denial bubbled through him, as he shouted out another defiant, "NO!" arching off the bed fighting against those that detained him.

Then a warmth spread from his captive arm, up through his body, sapping his muscles of their strength while infusing him with warmth. Suddenly he lacked the energy to fight, to struggle, he couldn't save his friends.

He felt the weight leave his shoulders, he was free but could not coordinate or convince muscles to move. It didn't matter. The boat crushed Buck and JD. He felt his muscles relax involuntary, against his very wishes. The flashes, the images, dimmed behind closed lids as a misty greyness filled his fading vision. He fought quietly once more.

His watery gaze locked eyes with a familiar face. "Please.." He tried lifting his hand, tried reaching out to the saddened face that stared down at him, "please…please" Let me help them…

Mrs. Travis watched as the sedative took effect. With a surprisingly steady hand, she wiped at the string of tears that slowly cascaded down from the corner's of the Southerner's closed eyes. She offered up a silent prayer and tightened her grip on his hand.

The nurse took another temperature reading. 106. The doctor frowned and consulted the three ring binder. He shuffled from the room jotting down notes. A nurse trailed behind, in his wake.

They left the solitary woman to watch over her charge. Most likely mother and son. Things were not looking good for either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'

The gun fire ended as quickly as it began.

Josiah, Nathan and Larabee bolted for the van. Ryan Kelly and his men made sure no suspects pulled hidden guns. SWAT swarmed the area like locus.

Tanner climbed, swung and jumped from his perch. He rushed the van in a full out sprint.

The four men converged on the scene at the same time.

The truck driver climbed down from his semi in shock. The DPD officer noticed the ATF jackets, the SWAT teams and wondered how much trouble he could possibly find in one night.

The six men stared at the wreckage. The van lay trapped under the boat. Flattened like Nova under a steam roller.

Then at once, the four members of Team Seven rushed the area where Boat and Van had become one.

Josiah started trying to find blocks, to help lift the seafaring behemoth. Chris shouted orders for ropes and jacks…and Nathan hollered for Buck and JD to answer him.

Everything paused when Buck and JD did.

Heads swiveled when amused voices rang out behind them, from the safety of shipping crates.

"You boys lookin' for someone?" Buck laughed. JD stood beside him grinning as if sharing in a joke that finally made people smile.

The others slowly started walking toward the twosome, "How?" Nathan stuttered out.

JD smiled even wider, " Ez said to stay away from the boat." Dunne then turned and pushed Wilmington forcing the larger man back a step, "but he didn't say anything about this big ox shoving me head first into a crate." Blood dripped from a cut over Dunne's left eye.

"When that over sized monstrosity rolled in here," Buck chuckled out, "we hightailed it out of Dodge." Wilmington held a bloody forearm to his midsection. "Had to make sure the kid here moved his ass. Young'ins these days don't have nuthin' but lead in their pants."

Chris chuckled and shook his head. Josiah nodded sagely agreeing with Buck. Vin narrowed his eyes, "Watch it Pard'." He'd give Buck some lead…

Jackson noted the blood on the two men and ignored it for now. Far from the heart.

Anything else that might have been said was lost in shouted commands and wailing sirens. The Six men returned to the work at hand, though Buck and JD suffered through numerous pats on the back and the occasionally ruffled hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'

Evie Travis covered a yawn. Standish lay curled on his side sleeping. A true sleep. Sweat rolled down his face and matted his hair to his head. The Judge's wife leaned forward and once again wiped the ever present moisture from the young man's face and neck.

The fever had broken a little under an hour ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'

"You boys heading for breakfast before going to the back to the office?" Kelly shouted across the space in front of the warehouse.

The wind had died down just before sunrise.

"Hospital first," Buck yelled back.

"Then Breakfast," Tanner filled in. Six in the morning seemed like as good as time as any for some waffles. "us Young'in can afford to eat our fill," Vin offered out patting Buck's midsection, as if it were a beer belly.

"How's Standish doin'?" Kelly herded his team toward one of the waiting vans.

"Aim to find out," JD answered back climbing into one of the Agency's cars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'

At 630 in the morning, the night nurses were getting ready to go home and the day shift was still filing through the doors. As a result, the six men of Team Seven reached the fifth floor and room 528 without being delayed.

It also meant they had no more information about their agent than when they had left earlier that morning…which wasn't much and what they did have wasn't encouraging.

Chris pushed open the door open…and stopped.

Larabee paused at the threshold a moment too long.

"Out of the way cowboy," Vin shuffled by Larabee and paused himself.

"Geezus guys," JD ducked under Larabee's arm and pushed passed Vin. He smiled, "Oh, Hey Mrs. Travis." The young man waved as if it wasn't unusual for the Judge's wife to be keeping a bed side vigil over one of their own.

"Good Morning JD," Evie Travis sat up straighter in her chair. She still held the small wash cloth in her hand as she leaned over and once again fixed the blankets covering Standish.

"Excuse them, ma'am," Josiah rumbled out as he brushed passed the others, "they have no manners in the morning."

"How's he doin' ma'am?" Nathan entered the room when Chris and Vin finally decided to move.

"Better," The Judge's wife smiled at the surprised expressions on the men's faces before looking back down at Standish. "his fever broke at about 330 this morning." She paused and struggled to stand up. Buck was instantly at her side, "thank you Buck," she offered him an appreciative smile which he returned, "….and he's been sleeping since."

"Amen to that," Josiah intoned quietly.

Murmurs of consent circled the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Chris placed the magazine down on the floor when he felt a pair of eyes staring at him. Larabee let his legs drop from the rail of the bed and slowly got to his feet.

"How ya feelin'?" The midmorning sun warmed his back. The remnants, of the impromptu breakfast the others had eaten, still littered the push table that had been rolled out of the way.

Larabee watched his agent as Standish struggled to get his bearings.

The dull green eyes that followed Larabee's movements merely blinked.

"That good huh?" Chris reached for the plastic cup by the side of the bed. "Doc says you need to take in fluids." They had been through this before but Chris had the distinct impression the first few times Standish opened his eyes, his mind still slept.

Much like now.

The green eyes dropped to the IV line and in emphasis tried to raise the taped hand.

Maybe not…maybe he truly was awake and aware.

"Doesn't count," Chris held the cup in front of his undercover agent, with the bendy straw just at Ezra's chin, allowing the agent to either grip the cup for himself or just sip from the straw. The level of independence at this point was up to Southerner.

Standish settled for a compromise. He raised a shaky hand to the maroon cup and slowly dipped his mouth to the straw. His neck shook with the exertion.

Larabee noticed the grip was not strong enough to hold the cup on its own and as a result kept his own hold.

After a few sips, Standish lay back letting his hand fall heavily toward the mattress. The effort left him breathing hard.

Chris stood quietly, watching and waiting.

Standish searched the now empty room, slowly roving his head side to side on the pillow.

"Josiah and Vin drove the Judge's wife home," Larabee smiled at the furrowed expression. Nope, he really hadn't been lucid earlier, just a good actor. The idiot. "Nathan is down in Emergency with Buck and JD."

Hazy, disjointed pieces suddenly cascaded into place for the undercover agent. Larabee recognized the horrified expression well before the man before him could physically react.

"Just keep still," Chris placed a restraining hand on Standish's blanketed chest. It was more for show, to allow Standish some sense of strength and independence, in a scenario that robbed him of either. "They're fine...thanks to you."

Larabee met the piercing green eyes and felt as if he were being dissected.

"Lilith?" The name came out hoarse, almost bruised sounding. The first real word the Undercover agent had said all morning. The earlier stuff had been Southern laced gibberish. Or as JD and Buck had labeled it, " Back hills, hilly billy dialect." This time however, a thinking mind sat behind the blood shot green eyes. One that would not be dissuaded from semi coherent questions with gentle but dismissive reassurances.

Larabee sighed and cocked his head sideways, "Don't know any Lilith, Ezra." The leader of Team Seven kept his hand on his undercover agent's chest. When Standish started to fight the lethargy that flowed through his muscles Chris merely increased the pressure.

Knock it off…Larabee sighed, "Cut it out." Damn Standish always did ignore my subtle hints.

"She was here," Ezra pointed out matter a factly, once again his eyes searched the now lighted area under the over hanging TV. "She was right there..."

Chris took a breath and let it out slowly. The doctor had no explanation for the fever, its origin, its mode of action, or why it broke so suddenly. Perhaps Stress.

Chris had discounted it. "Stress" seemed to be the safety net when people didn't have answers or good excuses. The doctor did, however, explain away the mysterious presence as fever induced. The others agreed.

"Ezra," Larabee began trying to find away to explain to his agent that he had been out of his head with fever, delirious and at times out of control. There was no easy way, "You had a hell of a fever yesterday and last night."

Standish narrowed his gaze at his boss in suspicion. He remember very little of the last twenty four hours but he did clearly remember a Lilith talking to him, seriously at first and then in jest. She was a beautiful young woman with a smile that lit up a room. For the last day, she had been his constant companion. What they talked about he couldn't remember, but it was unimportant right now. He just wished to thank her for her kindness.

Chris recognized the look but barreled forward. "Fever hit a 106...temp like that they say can start shutting down body systems...let alone cause hallucinations."

Ezra narrowed his gaze back at the far corner and then back up to Larabee, "I wasn't hallucinating."

Chris nodded, not in agreement but in concession that they would not agree on this point.

An uncomfortable silence fell across the room. Standish fought a futile anger at being sick and near helpless and the fact that he might have lost control last night in front of others. Worse yet, his boss offered a soft placating explanation as a means to dismiss something he did not believe had happened.

Larabee shook his head dismissively trying to ignore the rising ire in both himself and his undercover agent. Stubborn Jackass couldn't even accept he was sick enough to suffer hallucinations.

The tension was broke when the door to the room flew open.

"Shut up, Buck," JD bellowed out in a harsh overtly loud whisper, "he's probably still sleeping."

"Put a sock in it Kid," Wilmington stopped short in the door way forcing Dunne to walk into him, "ain't no way Ez's is still sleeping with you flapping yer gums like a ninny."

"Both of ya shut up and git in there," Nathan pushed Dunne forward back into Buck.

"Ingrates," Wilmington stepped into the room and spied Chris, " 'Ey old Dog...how's he doing?" Wilmington nodded his head in the direction of the bed. "Whoa Ho! Look who's finally awake....how ya feelin' pard'....don't mind sayin' you look like shit."

Standish squinted his eyes and raised an eyebrow. His attempt at a vocal greeting was cut short by JD. "'Ey Ez, no offense but Buck's right, looks like someone drug you through a cat door backward....Good to see ya a wake though, ya had us worried last night...Good thing Mrs. Travis was here...you know that the Dr. last night thought she were yer ma...ain't that the funniest thing..."

"Shut up, kid," Wilmington shoved Dunne away from the bed rail.

Ezra followed the motion with his eyes. He felt a step behind.

"You two fools knock it off," Jackson sidled up to the head of the bed, "You feelin' ok? Dizzy at all? Cold? Legs and back still hurt?" Nathan rested a practiced hand on Standish's forehead. Ezra slid his head to the side trying to get out from under the testing grasp. "must be feelin' better, gitten ornery again." The ex-paramedic looked across to Chris, "he coherent yet? Or is he still pretty much out of it? He still complaining about his back and legs? Any more muscle cramps? "

Before Larabee could answer, Dunne stepped forward again maneuvering Nathan to the side.

" 'Ey Ez, check out my stitches," JD pulled his bangs back from the left side of his forehead showing off a neat purple line of sutures. "Got 10, not bad huh?" JD threw a mock scathing look at Buck, "Probably would have gotten none except Bozo tossed me head first into a shipping crate."

Ezra arched an eyebrow and looked to Chris. Larabee just shook his head. Ignore it for now.

"Hell Kid," Buck shouldered his way in front of Dunne, "they just gave you stitches to make you feel better, this here is a real cut..." Wilmington gently lifted the gauze pad off his arm to expose an 'L' line suture pattern in pink this time. "That there is 23 stitches…counted them myself."

"Hell Buck, I didn't think you could count that high," JD laughed out peering at the pink stitches.

"Shut up, both of ya," Chris finally stepped seeing the plaintive expression on Standish's face. Both Dunne and Wilmington stared at Chris slightly confused. JD backed into Buck even though Larabee stood on the other side of the bed.

"Don't worry about it Kid, Ole Chris 'ere, gits a bit crotchety when he don't get his 8 hours of shut eye," Buck leaned in close to JD and in a stage whisper stated, "Git'n old an all." The ladies man winked at Standish, including him in the 'secret'.

Dunne's eyes widen at the sudden 'revelation'. "Oh."

"Jist shut up both of ya." Larabee sighed.

"Who you tellin' to shut up now Cowboy?" Vin strode through the door with Josiah hot on his heels, "sure as hell won't be Ezra there...though give it a day or two and I bet you'll be threatening to shoot his ass."

"More like a few hours," Nathan added, "they're releasing him this afternoon," Jackson then turned and stared at Standish noticing the half smile that now creased the gambler's pale face, "on the condition you stay with one of us." Jackson's stern tone cut the room.

The half smile disappeared all together.

"Brother, You are looking better," Josiah slid up beside the head of the bed forcing Larabee to step aside.

"Hell, Josiah he looks like shit," Vin noted from the foot of the bed.

"Should've seen him yesterday afternoon when I found him at home," Sanchez turned to face Nathan, "you sure its ok for him to leave this afternoon? His muscles quit knotting up on him?" Doctor had said they were normal after such a high fever that they'd fade away. Josiah could not help but feel sympathetic twinges in his own lower back, legs and feet.

Jackson furrowed his brow for a moment, "Ain't too sure about it, but his fever 's staying down with Motrin, probably helping his legs and back too. He kept a small breakfast down and the blood tests are still saying normal."

"Must be something wrong with the machines then," Vin piped up, "ain't no way Ez, here is normal....Huh Ez?"

"Thank you Mr. Tanner," Ezra let a sarcastic smile etch his features. Finally, someone addressed him as if he were in the room.

"Dang son, are you back with us?" Buck leaned over the undercover agent's bed and stared closely at his blood shot eyes, "figured you were still in Laalaa land." Wilmington waved his hand in front of Ezra's face for effect until Chris shook his head at Buck.

"Mr. Wilmington, I assure you, as much as it distresses me, I am back amongst you Neanderthals."

"Pretty big talk for someone who can't raise his head off a pillow," Vin chuckled out.

"It will not last, I assure you." The fatigue that dripped from the words said otherwise.

"So Ez," JD wiggled back into the conversation, "Who's Lilith?"

The room suddenly fell silent as eyes stared pointedly at the young computer expert. Not that they weren't curious but some how they feared it would embarrass Standish as much as unnerve them.

Chris stared at the young man hoping he could make JD take the question back. Buck bumped his shoulder into Dunne's in silent reprimand.

Nathan and Josiah watched the undercover agent while Vin kept his eye on Buck.

JD wished he could disappear.

Ezra shook his head before muttering, "I do not know...but," but what?...How do you say there was something familiar about a face that no one believed exist? He wavered between unease, at his apparent loss of composure and conviction. Lilith was real.

"But nothin' Ez," Buck whispered quietly. Wilmington ignored both Vin and Chris as the two stared at him.

"She was here," Ezra felt compelled to try and convince these men that he was not hallucinating, that he had not lost control of his mind. That a lady, Lilith sat and spoke with him, about things he could not truly remember. He wasn't hallucinating.

"Easy Brother," Josiah intoned trying to calm ruffling waters, "no ones sayin' you didn't see her."

"Fevers do that Ezra," Jackson tried to explain, "especially ones as high as yours. Damn lucky you pulled out of it." Nathan rested a comforting hand on Standish's shoulder, trying to offer understanding.

"Dang Ez, if she was pretty, maybe Buck knew her," JD tried to joke, to break the tension he inadvertently created.

"She was Mr. Dunne," Ezra remarked more to himself than to the others. He stared at the spot in the corner where Lilith had stood and….warned him of the danger?

"Yeah, she was," Buck whispered out again, "most beautiful woman in the world." His voice had soften with a wistful sound. A touch of homesickness perhaps.

"Heck Buck, you say that about all women," JD laughed out and pushed on his friend's shoulder.

"Don't Buck," Chris tried to tell him it wasn't necessary. Buck's private life was his own, same with his past. He did not need to share it with the Team.

Vin and the others watched the two old friends.

Wilmington smiled sadly as he reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a worn leather wallet that had seen better days. The sticky residue of duct tape still covered the leather where the repair stitches now sat. Buck opened his wallet, bending the halves back, his fingers slid over numerous yellow and aged cards until he stopped at the one he was searching for.

He pulled it from the crowded slot. Whatever he tried to extract had stuck to the wallet material. With gentle pressure, he finally removed it. It was a wallet size picture.

"This her Ez?" Wilmington held the picture in front of Standish much like Chris had offered the water. The undercover agent raised a shaky hand to the worn creased photograph. He immediately recognized the Pacer's sweat shirt, the Cardinal's hat and baseball glove. More readily he recognized the laughing cobalt eyes and easy smile.

Lilith. She did exist…he hadn't lost his mind. How did Buck know her…better yet have an old photo of her? It was Lilith just as she appeared last night, softball glove and everything.

"Yes," the reverence in his voice had the others crowding the bed but Chris, "how?" Ezra asked moving his eyes up to the man that held the picture.

"Cuz, Ez," Buck stepped back and let the others see the faded picture that had not seen the light of day for years, "Lilith was my ma."

"I thought your ma died," JD stated voicing his confusion and doubt.

Ezra held on to the picture a moment longer, before weakened muscles trembled enough that Nathan took the picture before it slipped, "She's beautiful."

"Yup, a definite head turner," Buck beamed with pride. His mom worked hard, did her best to raise him right and teach him right or wrong. Her profession never stole her zest for life. He dropped his head to his chin, "But JD's right, she died along time ago."

"Then how?" Dunne let his question fall unasked.

"She's a lefty," Nathan noticed scrutinizing the picture. Mrs. Wilmington was a looker.

"Yup," Buck smiled and then chuckled, "Hell of a ball player too. Played softball in the Beer league...one of the best shortstops out there. Could bat a .375 easy too…taught me everything I know about Soft ball."

"Hell Bucklin, you suck at softball," Tanner chuckled.

"Yup, she used to say the same thing," Buck smiled in memory, "but it never kept her from tossing the ball and batting with me every morning in the summer."

Josiah whistled appreciatively. A good mother was a treasure to hold close.

Chris matched Buck's eyes and nodded silently in support. Buck didn't have to do this but if he wanted too, Larabee would back him.

Vin accepted the picture handed to him by Josiah. The sharpshooter studied it and marveled at the amazing woman that stood laughing at the camera uncaring of the trials and troubles the world threw her way. Much like her son.

"Dang," JD whispered, "You mean Ezra's been dreamin' about ya ma?"

The room fell silent, until a Southern laden, "Good Lord," whined from the bed. Ezra slunk low under the blankets.

"Must run in the team," Vin casually remarked staring pointedly at Josiah.

"Maude is a mighty fine lady."

"I'm going to be ill," Ezra mumbled despairingly from under the blankets.

"If you are, do it now, before you git in my truck," Larabee warned with a laugh in his voice.

"Ahh not again," Standish truly whined and curled into a loose ball, too tired to really fight but not exhausted enough to forgo a try, "this is unfair." Sequestered away at Mr. Larabee's again…just shoot me now…

Vin patted Chris on the shoulder in condolences, "I was gonna stop by this weekend, but if he's gonna be like that ," He stared pointedly at the mound under the white blankets, "I'll see ya on Monday."

"It'd be fine Vin," Nathan encouraged as he followed the sharpshooter out the door, "Ezra won't even have the stamina to walk to the bathroom on his own for a day or too, much less whine with any vigor." Jackson turned back to look at his hidden friend on the bed, "he should sleep most of the time anyway."

A dry cry bubbled from the bed. Jackson chuckled and headed out the door behind Tanner.

"We all have our penances Brother," Sanchez clamped Larabee's shoulder in a sympathetic fashion, "some worse than others." Josiah gazed down at the covered undercover agent and then back at Larabee, "I would not want your burdens this weekend."

Standish shifted under the blankets before quietly settling down.

"Looks like you take the cake, Chris," JD hopped in step behind Josiah. He gave the others a quick wave and disappeared out the partially opened door, "Hey! Josiah! Wait up! Did I show you my stitches?..."

Buck and Chris stared across the bed at one another and then down at the agent hidden by bed covers. Soft snores issued forth from the bed.

"You gonna need a hand?"

Larabee paused contemplating his upcoming weekend and not enjoying it. The Doctor or his nurse would leave a list of instructions. Standish would eventually do everything in his power to disobey any kind of command or order. The weekend looked like a bust, maybe he could use some help.

Larabee merely raised his eyebrow. Probably.

"Yeah right," Buck shook his head in resignation, "I'll get the discharge papers going and try and find his doctor." Wilmington headed for the door.

"Buck,"

Larabee's voice stopped him. The big man paused and turned around.

"Your mother," Chris paused, the subject of Buck's mother was always touchy. She lived her life walking a tightrope most people would have refused to even attempt. Balancing an illicit career with raising a son. She did a damn good job. Her efforts and sacrifices paid off handsomely in the shape of a loyal, intelligent man dedicated to his friends. "She was one of a kind...one of the best."

Wilmington held Larabee's gaze before breaking into a smile, "Yeah…I know."

Chris nodded, "Just wanted to make sure."

A rough snore dragged the two men's attention to the bundle hidden in the bed, "Whatta think happened?"

Chris shook his head, "I don't know....maybe Josiah's damned Destiny again."

Wilmington nodded, unable to come up with anything better. "Guess we better keep ole Ez around, especially if ma talks to him, and Mrs. Travis spends her nights at his side."

Larabee shook his head in resigned weariness. "Probably got a point."

Buck slipped from the door and disappeared down the corridor lined with pictures of Ducks. Wilmington shook his head at that…what kind of moron decorated with Duck drawings? Why not Bears, or Horses, or women for that matter? Water fowl? They smelled bad.

Larabee sat in his chair and gathered the magazine up off the floor. He paused and stared at Ezra, or more specifically the top of Ezra's head, the only part of his agent exposed from under the blanket. The leader of Team Seven swung his gaze to the empty space in the corner of the room under the Television set. A soft 'thank you' passed his lips.

Lilith Wilmington smiled pleased with herself and then followed her son down the Fifth floor corridor. Why Ducks?

The end.

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