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Primal Instinct |
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Feedback: Craved.
Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue. I never did like Barbie, Ken was always my favorite. Since I'm too old to play with dolls, I play with these guys instead. <g>
Warning: Possessive!Chris ahead. <g>
Author's notes: Praise goes to Sherri and Tess for their brilliant beta'ing. Any final mistakes are mine. Also a very big thank you goes out to Kimber and Serena for putting up with me. <wg>
Summary: When Chris is kidnpped Ezra must find him before it's too late.
Samuel Levit watched with a satisfied smirk as Chris Larabee parked his car in front of the ranch. He waited until the ATF agent was out of the vehicle before turning to the sniper standing beside him."You have the dart with the tranquilizer, Michaels?" he whispered softly.
The man nodded, rifle ready and aimed at Larabee's moving form. "Just say the word, Mr. Levit," he breathed back.
"Do it." Levit watched Michaels squeeze the trigger, his heart racing gleefully as he saw Larabee's hand suddenly move to his neck, a pained grimace on his face. The blond staggered precariously for a few seconds, then collapsed on the porch leading to his front door.
The sniper rose from their hiding place amongst the undergrowth. "Done, boss." His cold, soulless eyes bore into Levit. "What now?"
"Go back for the van, bring it here."
Levit waited until the sound of a vehicle approaching reached his ears, before walking over to his quarry.
He looked down at the unconscious man lying on the wooden floor, his mouth twisted into an evil smile. "Vengeance is mine, Agent Larabee," he muttered. "When I'm through with you, you'll be nothing but the shell of the man you used to be. And I will enjoy every minute of it."
He dragged the blond to the van with Michaels' help, throwing his prisoner into the back carelessly. He climbed into the driver's seat, Michaels staying behind with Larabee to watch over him. The first stars were beginning to sprinkle the sky when he finally drove away.
+ + + + + + +
Chris' return to consciousness was slow and painful. His thought process was sluggish, his whole body felt numb and he seemed to have trouble opening his eyes.
When he finally did, he realized he was lying on a small cot, hands and feet tightly bound. He was currently alone in a small sterile room, with no other furniture, no windows, gray walls made of a material he couldn't identify and a solid, steel door the only means of escape.
The door opened and a man walked in, brown eyes gleaming as he noticed Chris was awake. Chris tried to place a name to the six foot tall, slim figure, but failed to do so. He could only wonder at what kind of mess he was in this time around.
"Who the hell are you?" he rasped out. "What do you want?"
His captor ran a hand through his thinning dark hair. "I can understand how you might not remember me; it has been some time and we only saw each other once. My name's Samuel Levit. Does the name Thomas Levit mean anything to you?"
Chris frowned in concentration, then shook his head. "No."
"Well, it should." the man snapped, fury and madness burning in his eyes. "He was my younger brother. You arrested him years ago, while you were still with the Denver PD."
"Since it's been years, I'm assumin' this is not because I busted him. Let me guess, he died and you want revenge." Chris drawled sarcastically. It seemed he and his team spent more time trying to escape family vengeances than doing their jobs; it was beginning to grate on his nerves.
Levit nodded. "Got it in one. You see, I had to watch as Tom withered away in prison, day after day, week after week, month after month. I lost count of every new bruise, of every new scrape. I lost count of the number of times he couldn't make it to the visit because he was in the infirmary. I got to watch the light fade out from his eyes, little, by little, by little." He took a deep breath. "Until he finally killed himself six months ago. Your fault, Agent Larabee, since you put him there."
Chris shook his head. "Wrong. *His* fault, for doin' whatever the hell he did to make me arrest him."
Levit waved a dismissed hand. "Doesn't matter. What does matter is that I will be doing to you what jail did to Tommy. I'm a scientist, you know? Specialize in chemical drugs," he explained conversionally. "And I concocted a new drug especially for you, for this moment."
"I'm touched." Chris gritted out, wondering if he wasn't spending too much time with Ezra. Sarcasm had never been his thing before hiring the undercover agent.
"This drug," Levit continued as if Chris hadn't spoken, "will deprive you of everything we call civilized. You will lose your will, your conscience, your humanity. You will be a walking corpse, a vegetable with no willpower. It will take approximately two weeks for the process to be irreversible. At that time I will let you go, release you on the streets of Denver. It will be amusing to see how long you will last before a street thug or even one of your fellow agents kills you."
He walked over to Chris, removing a syringe and a small vial from one of his coat pockets. Chris struggled fiercely against the ropes binding him, swallowing hard as he watched Levit fill the syringe full of liquid.
He had been in dangerous situations for most of his life, but this was different somehow. It was one thing to face someone with a gun in your hand, knowing you had a chance to fight back. But he was powerless against this madman, and he knew no one would be coming to the rescue, at least not fast enough to prevent Levit from drugging him out of his mind.
Levit pushed his sleeve back and plunged a needle into his arm with cruel intensity. Chris bit his lip to stop from crying out at the painful sting, trying to breathe deeply, fighting the abrupt sense of panic that flooded through him. The insidious drug hit his bloodstream, making him feel dizzy and disoriented, sweat breaking out all over his body as his heartbeat increased its tempo.
As he felt his mind begin to shut down, he had enough time to spare a thought for his friends, for the one he had lost his heart to, then he knew no more.
Six days later
The sun was just beginning to dawn through the trees as Ezra drove the rented jeep through the forest road, his foot never leaving the gas pedal.He clenched his jaw as he glanced at his bruised knuckles. He had nearly beaten a man to death not two hours earlier. That showed him how hard he was taking Chris' disappearance. He had always been able to control his emotions, even if only on the outside. But for the last six days he felt like a time-bomb waiting to explode and he knew the others were wary of being around him.
They had searched relentlessly for their leader, leaving no stone unturned, and still they had found nothing. He had been forced to resort to his underground contacts, which had finally paid off the night before. A known gunman for hire, who used to hang around a certain bar, had been bragging about having been the one responsible for Chris' kidnapping.
Ezra's informant met him at the bar, showed him who the gunman was. Ezra had waited until the man made it out of the establishment before cornering him. For someone who had bragged so much, the man had been surprisingly tough to crack and Ezra had lost his patience, landing blow after blow until the gunman lay a whimpering puddle on the asphalt.
It took time, but the man finally confessed he had been the one to shoot the tranquilizer dart which allowed a Samuel Levit to take Chris away from them. He didn't know for what reason, since only Levit had access to Chris. But for the first time in six days Ezra felt some hope of actually seeing Chris alive, some hope he might actually get to say the words stuck in his throat for the last months. All he had to do was rescue the other man and pray he was none too worse for wear.
Reaching the location given to him by the gunman, Ezra parked the jeep, eyes narrowing as he spotted the compound barely visible in the trees to his left.
He dialed Vin's number on his cellular. "Vin? Ezra," he said when the Texan answered. "I believe I have found our leader." Rapidly he explained what he had done the night before and what the gunman had told him.
"Damn it, Ezra! Why didn't ya call us?" Vin snapped, sounding pissed off.
"I wasn't certain if the information was accurate. But judging by the security at the compound, I think we hit jackpot," he stated calmly, giving Vin directions to the facility.
"Okay, Ez. You stay put, ya hear?" Vin demanded urgently. "I'll call the others and we'll be right there."
Ezra hung up, having no intention whatsoever to wait until the others joined him. Every minute was time wasted, time in which someone might be hurting Chris. No way in hell was he waiting.
Knowing the jeep was far enough away not to be seen, he checked his weapon, the contents of the backpack he had brought with him, took a deep breath, then ventured into the thick forest. He saw the first man patrolling the walls surrounding the main building. Putting to use the survival skills learned at Quantico, he snuck up silently behind the guard.
"Hello!" He spoke loud enough for only his prey to hear.
As the man turned, Ezra punched him hard, knocking him out cold. He dragged the man off the path, behind some large bushes, hoping the rest were as easy, but somehow knowing they wouldn't be.
He jumped over the wall, half surprised when no alarms went off, crouching down as he took in the facility. Not that big, but he had some open ground to cover before he could reach it. Seeing no other guards, he ran to the building, keeping as low as possible, eyes constantly roaming over his surroundings, senses alert to any unexpected threat.
He circled the building carefully, trying to find an entrance. Before he could make it to the final side, a man holding a .45 pistol came around the corner. Acting on instinct, Ezra tackled the man to the ground, straddling him, and without giving him any time to react, slugged him twice.
Satisfied that the man wouldn't give him any more trouble, he continued his search, finding a window on the first floor wide open. He climbed into the creepy house, drawing his gun as he allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloomy darkness.
He found himself in a lounge of sorts, a couch and countless chairs occupying every available space, a coffee and tea machine resting on a table, magazines spread throughout two other tables. With his heart in his throat, Ezra crossed over to the door, emerging into a long, gray corridor with several doors on either side. He held his breath as he stepped into the corridor, taking a peek in each room, his dread increasing as he realized each contained a laboratory.
He spotted a staircase and crept over, suddenly knowing Chris would be up there. He found himself in yet another corridor, more doors on each side. The first rooms were deserted, but they were different from the ones below. These didn't have any lab equipment and were considerably smaller. What set them apart was the fact they were sparsely furnished -- if at all -- besides a single cot.
He kept going, a drop of sweat trailing down his cheek as he opened the last door. He nearly sobbed with relief at the vision before him; Chris was lying on the cot, tied spread-eagle and apparently unconscious, but very much alive.
"Chris!"
He rushed over to the other man, switching the gun to his other hand, already reaching for the knife hidden within the backpack. He cut the ropes binding Chris to the cot's steel frame, rubbing raw wrists tenderly as he tried to rouse the blond.
He gasped as Chris abruptly sprang to his feet, backing away from Ezra. There was no life in Chris' eyes, no fire, no hint he even knew what was happening or that he recognized the Southerner. The stormy green eyes were empty, all light drained out of them.
Refusing to shout out his rage at the merciless skies, Ezra took a step towards Chris. "Hey, there," he whispered soothingly. "It's me, Chris, Ezra."
He inched closer, biting his lip uncertainly as Chris swayed slightly. Should he try to reach him? To touch him? Chris didn't move as Ezra approached, daring to rest his hand on Chris' arm. He simply stood still, eyes focused inward, seemingly not aware he wasn't alone.
"All right, I guess it's up to me to see us through this, at least for the moment." Ezra pulled out a heavy winter jacket from the backpack and gently helped Chris don it. "I'm a firm believer one should always be prepared," he said, hoping somehow his voice would bring Chris out of his frightening stillness. "It's cold outside and the weather's supposed to take a turn for the worse soon, so I thought I'd bring this along. Fortunate for you I did; you would have frozen if I hadn't."
He knew his babbling was the only thing at the moment keeping him from falling apart. It simply hurt too much to see Chris in such an apathetic state. He wanted the fire back, the spark always present whenever they were together. He needed it.
"Who the hell are you?" a voice spat from the doorway.
Ezra turned to see a tall, lithe man standing at the entrance, a gun aimed at him. "Who the hell are *you*?" He retorted. "Are you the one responsible for his condition?" he gestured towards Chris.
The man smirked as he moved further into the room. "That would be me, yes. I have been having quite a lot of fun with Mr. Larabee there. An amazing specimen, actually. Would you believe he has been trying to fight the drugs I've been pumping into him? Truly amazing."
Ezra felt a cold, hard fury take over his heart. This bastard was responsible not only for kidnapping Chris, but also for stealing that which Ezra held most dear in the blond; his soul.
Behind him he heard Chris move, distracting the man targeting them. Ezra didn't waste any time; he leaped, and spun 360 degrees in the air, his foot connecting with the man's chin, snapping his head back with a sickening crack. He landed solidly on his feet, his breath harsh, fists clenching, body coiled and ready.
Sanity returned and he realized the man was dead, his neck broken. Guilt stabbed at him for a moment, until his eyes settled on Chris and a maddening rage washed over him again. Forcing himself to remain calm, he held Chris' hand in his and pulled gently.
"Come on, we need to depart from this place; I have no idea if there are any more security guards around," he said as he snatched his weapon from the floor.
Chris followed him meekly down the corridor, past the stairs, along the second corridor. They made it outside, and this time Ezra decided to venture through the gate instead of trying to climb the wall; he didn't think Chris was up to it.
They were almost through the gate when another guard came running up, firing his rifle. The bullet caught Ezra in the left shoulder, throwing him backwards into Chris. Firing instinctively, Ezra's shot struck the guard in the heart, killing him instantly.
Pain invaded his world as he tried not to pass out, knowing Chris was vulnerable at the moment and needed him to be alert and functional. He grunted as he was suddenly thrown over Chris' shoulder in a fireman's carry, surprised the other man had been able to do so on his own.
He thought he heard Chris growl, 'Protect', then consciousness left him.
+ + + + + + +
Slowly, painfully, Ezra became aware of his surroundings. He was half-lying on the cold, hard ground, half-sitting on Chris' lap. The other man had his arms wrapped firmly around him and seemed to be rocking him gently, although there was still no awareness in his features.
He lifted his head from Chris' warm shoulder, scanning the woods around them. The compound was nowhere in sight; all he could see were trees and rocks. As predicted, the weather was already beginning to change. Heavy clouds were gathering in the skies above them, hiding the early morning sun, and the wind was blowing stronger.
Looking around, he noticed his backpack was missing, probably left behind after he had gotten shot. This meant the extra weapons and ammunition, bottled water, first aid kit, and food were all lost. His gun was also missing, leaving them without any kind of armed protection.
Gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder he tried his cell phone, only to realize they were out of range, and unable to contact the others.
He sighed wearily. Somehow Lady Luck always seemed to enjoy playing with him, throwing him into the most unusual plights and watching from the sidelines as he struggled to the finish line. It was troublesome.
Opening his heavy coat and peeking under his garments, he realized there was little blood soaking his shirt, telling him he hadn't been unconscious for long. Pressing his lips together to prevent a moan from escaping, he left the sanctuary of Chris' arms, slowly removing his coat and sweater. Stripping his shirt off, he ripped the sleeves off and turned them into a tourniquet for his shoulder.
At least he could feel the exit wound at his back and the bullet had obviously not caused any permanent damage.
After redressing he rose to his feet, closing his eyes for a moment as he fought the wave of nausea and dizziness assailing him. With no way to contact the others, and without knowing their exact location, the best thing for them was to keep moving. Perhaps they would be fortunate enough to stumble across a road or a cabin.
"Come on, Chris," he breathed softly, glad when the man followed automatically.
They picked their way carefully up the rough sloping trail, Ezra keeping a close watch on the man walking beside him, hoping to see some change in the uncharacteristic silence. Desolation replaced hope as time ticked by and nothing happened.
As he treaded slowly, Ezra could feel his heart breaking, wondering what would he do if Chris didn't return to his former self. He had accepted long ago his preference towards men, so his instant attraction to the blond hadn't come as any life-altering revelation. But the fact that the attraction had morphed into love frightened him, especially because during the last months it had been getting harder and harder not to blurt out his feelings.
And now he might never get the chance.
He stumbled on a root, then caught himself on a tree trunk. Leaning into the tree, he tried to swallow around his dry throat. His strength was fading fast, he would need to take a break soon. A real break, not the occasional stop to take a deep breath as they had been doing since their journey had begun.
He looked at the time, grunting in annoyance as he saw they had only been moving for little over an hour. In his weakening condition, it felt like much longer. Hot pain radiated from his injured shoulder, and although the provisory bandage was doing its function so far, he was still bleeding slightly.
He shivered as a fierce gust of wind howled over them. The snowstorm he had heard announced on the radio on the way to the compound was approaching fast. The sky was dark and angry, the temperature dropping with the rising wind. They needed shelter, or they would never survive the day.
Their slow march continued for yet another hour, then suddenly they reached an area full of ravines and caves.
"There is a God," Ezra muttered gratefully, as he spotted the mouth of a small cave not far from where they were standing, near the crest of a low ridge.
They began their climb, his focus never wavering from their promised shelter. His foot slid on the slippery slope, slamming him into the ground. He curled into a fetal ball, eyes squeezed shut, gripping above his left elbow and gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, his breathing shallow and rapid.
He couldn't possibly manage to get up again. Sweating from the effort, hurting and shivering, he was at the end of his tether.
Once again it was Chris who unwittingly saved the situation. Ezra felt the other man drag him to his feet, helping him make it into the narrow cave. He leaned against the wall, panting, trying to control the painful tingling in his whole body.
Opening his eyes, he saw scattered pieces of wood lying around, in enough quantity to build a fire and keep it going for a few hours. Clenching his jaw stubbornly, Ezra gathered the necessary amount to start a fire, using the lighter he always carried with him. Pretty soon the flames were warming up the small area, the smell of wood smoke filling the cave.
They huddled together instinctively. The throbbing in Ezra's shoulder prevented him from falling too deeply into the sleep his body craved, but allowed him to relax into a much needed rest.
+ + + + + + +
"Well?" Vin asked grimly.
"Four men. Two unconscious, two dead." Buck informed him. "JD found Ezra's backpack near one of the dead. It had food, water, a compass and his extra guns inside. His gun was a few feet away."
Nathan and Josiah approached the others. "Finished searchin' the compound," Nathan told Vin. "One of the rooms on the upper level had rope attached to a cot. My guess is that Chris was held there."
"Any idea what happened?" JD asked sadly.
Josiah shook his head. "No. It seems Ezra managed to free Chris, and subdue all the men. I fail to see why they didn't remain here."
"There's more," Nathan said, his face unusually serious. "I found this in one of the labs." He held up what looked like a book. "It's a journal. I'm not familiar with all the scientific jargon in it, but I understood enough. This guy was testin' a new drug on Chris, givin' him two doses a day. Now, he didn't know if it was Chris' fault, or if the drug's components weren't mixed right, but it wasn't workin' as predicted."
Vin felt his heart missing a beat. "What do you mean?" he whispered.
"The drug was supposed to leave Chris pliant, a 'walking vegetable' as he refers to it in the journal. But between bein' nearly catatonic, Chris had periods of extreme violence. He tried to escape twice while they were helpin' him relieve himself, killed one of his guards in the first try. It might be the reason why he and Ezra aren't here waitin' for us."
"So, what you're sayin' is that Ezra is out there somewhere with a mindless, psychotic Chris?" Buck surmised hoarsely.
"Yeah," Nathan confirmed.
"Now what?" JD asked Vin. "The snowstorm is nearly here. Maybe we should wait --"
Vin shook his head. "We've brought the gear, we're goin' after them. We *have* to. Come on, let's get ready."
+ + + + + + +
Ezra grunted when a weight was suddenly upon him, a wet tongue teasing at the side of his neck, a quick nip on the soft skin behind his right earlobe.
He opened glazed eyes, and Chris' face came into his line of vision, blond strands bathed by the light of the fire. Hot breath tickled his chin as Chris leaned down, and then lips were against his, hands rubbing against his groin over his pants, and he felt himself hardening in spite of the throbbing in his shoulder.
Before Ezra was fully aware of what was happening, Chris' hands moved to his waist and taking advantage of surprise and Ezra's weakness, he flipped the Southerner over and onto his stomach.
Ezra gasped at the unexpected move as it jarred his wound painfully, his whole being consumed by agony. Chris straddled his back, pinning him to the cave's hard floor, an insistent knee urging his legs apart. Chris stretched out on top of him, blanketing his body, hips grinding crudely against Ezra's buttocks, his erection noticeable even through the clothes they were both wearing.
Dazed and hurting, Ezra moaned a protest as he felt fingers fumbling beneath him, parting the snap to his pants. Hands tugged at the garment, pulling it off along with his boxers until his lower body was bare. He tried to crawl away, but he was too slow.
Chris began kneading his ass cheeks, manipulating them wantonly, and once again Ezra felt himself responding to the man's touch. He cried out abruptly, a wave of goosebumps flushing through his body as a slick softness darted along the crevice between his buttocks, long, thorough strokes that had him writhing and whimpering shamelessly in seconds.
Chris took his hips in his hands, holding him immobile as thumbs parted him, leaving him exposed. Warm breath blew across his anus, Chris' tongue returning to torment him, caressing the delicate skin, licking at it.
Ezra quivered, never having felt such an amazing feeling before, the sensation intensifying as the tongue breached his puckered opening. His whole body was shaking, he wanted to thrash against the touch, but the small part of his mind still functioning, warned him about his wound.
Chris kept working on him, lapping, stroking, slow, patient flickers of his tongue along the tight channel to his body that took Ezra's breath away. The slick heat darted past the sphincter once more and he cried out again, then, as suddenly as it had begun, the touch was withdrawn, leaving him bereft.
When his head stopped spinning from both the pain and the pleasure coursing through him, Ezra realized Chris was back on top of him, panting harshly as his shaft nudged Ezra's opening. Ezra froze as he understood why Chris had rimmed him so thoroughly; they had no lubrication. Even if Chris wasn't fully aware of what he was doing, his subconscious seemed to have retained enough information to know they would need something for their coupling.
Only...
Spit wouldn't be nearly enough to prevent tearing. Besides, no matter how much he loved and desired Chris, this was not the way he had imagined their coming together. Not to mention, Chris would forever wallow in guilt if he ever remembered any of it.
"Chris, no!" he shouted, making another attempt at escaping the other man's powerful grip as Chris positioned himself and began to thrust, his cock rubbing against the ring of muscle. "Chris, please. Stop," he groaned, as he was continuously pressed against the cave's floor, his hands the only barrier preventing his wound from impacting with the rock.
He tried to scramble forward again, but hands seized his hips, dragging him roughly backwards. Teeth sank painfully into his right shoulder, a clear warning to cease struggling.
"Mate!" Chris growled in his ear.
Panting hard as he tried to control his fear, Ezra obeyed the command to remain acquiescent, stiffening in anticipation of the pain to come.
The weight holding him down retreated abruptly and Ezra scuttled to the end of the cave, watching Chris with wary eyes. Still no emotion visible, no sign of recognition, but there were definite changes. Chris was moving animatedly now, his pacing no longer looking forced or unnatural.
He was also sporting such a massive hard-on, Ezra thought had to be painful.
He had to do something. Obviously whatever drugs Chris had been given had left him unstable, going from apathetic to primal in an instant. And if Ezra didn't come up with a solution to their immediate problem, chances were Chris would end up raping him, even if he wasn't aware of his actions. He knew the other man would never hurt him under normal circumstances, but these were hardly normal.
Shaking his head ruefully, he decided to reenact one of his favorite fantasies regarding his blond tormentor. The setting wasn't exactly what he had had in mind, but at least it would end their stalemate.
Hauling himself onto all fours, ignoring the growing weakness and the terrible burning in his shoulder, he approached Chris carefully, his whole demeanor non-threatening. Eyes never leaving Chris' face, he took the hard length in hand, opening his mouth and engulfing the throbbing cock, enjoying the bitter, musky taste flooding his taste buds.
He slid his tongue along the underside, then found the tip and licked it teasingly, grinning as Chris groaned gutturally. His head bobbed back and forth while he sucked greedily, his hands gripping the firm flesh with his hands. He slowly worked his way up the shaft until only the head remained in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the weeping slit with slow strokes, tasting and nipping and swirling.
One of his hands reached down to Chris' balls, gently cupping his sac, fondling tenderly until he felt them tighten. Chris' legs quivered as he threw his head back, his savage cry echoing loudly in the cave. His whole body shook as he ejaculated, his seed filling Ezra's mouth, who tried his best to swallow the offering.
Ezra closed his eyes, reaching down to awkwardly tug his clothing back into place before collapsing against the wall. He felt movement close by, but he was too exhausted to investigate. Then Chris' lips were on his once again, pressing softly, sharing taste and moisture and warmth. It was the last thing he felt before darkness took over his world anew.
+ + + + + + +
Vin thanked whatever lucky stars were watching over them. They had been on the trail for almost two hours and so far the storm was holding off, making it easier for him to track Chris and Ezra. It didn't seem to Vin like the two men were making much progress, but considering Chris' current condition, it was to be expected. They hadn't exactly been going round in circles, but close enough, wondering aimlessly for a while before making for higher ground.
He and the others had come fully prepared, backpacks filled with water, a first aid kit, and a couple of blankets. There was no way of knowing what kind of shape Chris and Ezra were in.
He glanced at the area ahead, noticing the ravines and knowing their friends had probably found a cave to hide in, away from the approaching storm.
"Ezra! Chris!" he shouted, hoping the wind would carry his voice. "Ezra, it's Vin!"
The others joined him in calling, their shouts echoing loudly in the deserted woods. A strange noise alerted him to a new presence and he turned, gasping as he spotted Chris heading towards them. The blond man was making his way down the rocky path, teeth bared, a savage expression twisting his features as he growled deep in his throat.
Before anyone could move, Chris had reached them, throwing himself at Buck, snarling as he hit the fallen man repeatedly. For a moment everyone else stood frozen in shock, watching in astonishment as Buck tried to parry the blows to his face and body. Then, blinking out of his daze, Vin ran to the two men, the others following his example, and tried to get Chris away from the ladies man.
It seemed like an impossible task. Chris fought them fiercely, biting, punching, kicking, breaking free from their precarious hold. Then a new voice was heard and the tables were turned.
"Chris, stop!"
Vin watched a pale and haggard Ezra staggering over to them, clothes rumpled, winter coat open to reveal a bloodied sweater. The glazed green eyes were focused on Chris, who had stopped struggling upon hearing the Southerner's voice.
"Ez, you okay?" Vin asked.
Ezra gave him a lopsided smile. "I have been better, Mr. Tanner. Think it would be possible for you gentlemen to release Mr. Larabee?"
"Umm, you think that is such a good idea?" Nathan questioned. "If we let him go, he'll start hittin' us again."
"No, he won't. Please..." Ezra said softly.
Vin nodded and they let Chris go. To his amazement the blond didn't attack them as expected. Instead he made his way to Ezra and remained quietly by his side, eyes downcast.
"Wow!" JD gushed out breathlessly. "How did you do that?"
Ezra shrugged slightly, then winced. "No idea. But he seems to be aware of my presence and understands me up to a point. You wouldn't happen to have any water, would you? I'm parched."
Josiah dropped his backpack to the ground, opening it and handing Ezra a bottle, careful to keep his movements slow and non-threatening. "Here, brother."
"Thank you, Mr. Sanchez."
Vin watched Ezra gulp down half the bottle, then asked, "The blood on your sweater? Yours?"
The Southerner nodded with a grimace. "I was shot by one of the guards at the compound."
Buck looked up from brushing dirt out of his clothes. "Why didn't ya wait for us there?"
"I'm afraid I passed out. Mr. Larabee took it upon himself to take us to what he perceived as safety. When I regained consciousness we were in the middle of the woods, so I thought it best to keep moving." Ezra said, stepping closer to Chris and placing the bottle against his lips. "Water, Chris. You need to drink some."
Chris didn't move, an eerie passivity seemingly having taken over the savagery. Ezra sighed tiredly, head tilted to the side as he evidently tried to figure out a way to get Chris to drink. A slow smile graced Ezra's face, and Vin shook his head fondly as he saw the Southerner dip a finger inside the bottle, before running it gently over Chris' lips.
Almost immediately Chris' tongue swept over his bottom lip, gathering the moisture there, and once again Ezra placed the bottle against his mouth. This time it worked; Chris reached for it and drank greedily, drops of the precious liquid escaping and dribbling down his chin.
"I should take a look at that wound o' yours," Nathan stated, once Chris was standing still again.
"Let's try it," Ezra agreed. "But Nathan... keep your voice soothing and don't make any sudden moves."
Nathan nodded and, armed with the first aid kit, walked over to Ezra. They sat on the ground and Nathan did the best he could without Ezra having to take all of his clothes off. It was getting colder and adding pneumonia to the bullet wound wasn't the way to go.
"Want to rest for a while?" Vin asked when Nathan was done.
Ezra shook his head. "We better head back. I'm surprised the storm has held this long."
"Yeah," JD chimed in. "Someone's definitely watching out for us."
"Let's go then. Think Chris'll behave?"
Ezra grinned weakly. "Your guess is as good as mine, Mr. Tanner. But I will try to restrain him, should his... more primal side make another appearance." He looked up at the rocky wall behind them. "We left a fire burning in one of the caves."
Josiah squeezed Vin's shoulder lightly. "I'll take care of it."
Minutes later they were on their way back to the compound, back to their vehicles and civilization. Vin kept an eye on both Ezra and Chris, concerned at what he was witnessing. Chris was following Ezra with single-minded intensity, although there was no life or expression in the man's face. On the other hand, Ezra was obviously getting weaker, even if he did his best to conceal it from the others.
It worried Vin that Ezra might not make it on his own to the end of the line. How would Chris react if they were forced to carry the Southerner?
"I'm surprised he didn't get violent with you," Vin said, trying to get Ezra's mind away from the journey ahead.
Something flashed for a moment in Ezra's eyes, but it was gone before Vin got a chance to identify it. "He did," Ezra confessed softly. "There was a moment in the cave when he went decisively frightening. Somehow he stopped before doing any actual damage to my person."
"Ya know why?"
Ezra shook his head. "No. Maybe he sensed my... uneasiness. Whatever the cause, I'm thankful he didn't hurt me."
The conversation lulled after that; it was taking all of their perseverance to keep moving down the rough trail, knowing they had to make it as close as possible to the compound before the storm hit.
They weren't that lucky. Halfway to their destination it started to snow, gently at first, quite heavily after the first few minutes. By the time they made it to the lab facility they were all freezing and soaked to the bone, even with their winter gear.
Vin turned to ask Ezra where he had parked his car, shouting a warning as the Southerner swayed and crumbled to the ground, his strength finally at its end.
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