TITLE: Lost and Found

AUTHOR: The Chronicler

CHALLENGE: Started out as an answer to W.O.W. 2-2-04-- RAVAGE, but

turned out too long. So...

ALTER. UNIVERSE: OLD WEST

RATING: R (strong language; pre-slash)

SUMMARY: Ezra takes word of his mother's death hard. But he gets

comfort from an unexpected source. C/E

ARCHIVE: Oh! Yes, anywhere you'd like. Just let me know where.

COMMENTS: Pretty please.

EMAIL: chronicler_of_knuckles@y...

~~~~~~~~~~

Lost and Found

By The Chronicler

~~~~~~~~~~

"Jeesh." J.D. shook his head as he dropped heavily in the chair

across from Josiah in the saloon. "I never thought I'd see the day."

Josiah nodded slightly. "Everything comes to an end, may it be the

worse and the ugliest, or the most wondrous and beautiful." he said

softly, his own chest aching from his remorse.

"But she was always bouncing around, happy and... I don't know...

full of life?" The young sheriff glanced about at the others for

confirmation, but none of them would look at him. With a sigh, he

leaned back in the chair and hung his head. "When my mother died I

thought the world would just crash down around me." he mumbled.

Vin smiled slightly. "Yea. Me too. Everything good and pure had

been..." He stopped, shaking his head, unable to come up with a good

enough word.

"Ravaged." Nathen supplied from where he leaned against the bar. "My

mother... well, damn." He couldn't finish, his own memories too

painful.

Josiah smiled a sad smile. "There's something about mothers that

words were never meant to describe. No word was ever spoken that

could do justice to the most honorable and precious of humanity.

There is simply nothing that can compare to a mother's touch,

muchless fathom her embrace."

Buck held up his drink. "To mothers, then. To those who can still hug

their sons, to those long gone..."

"To Maude Standish." Josiah added, holding up his own mug. "Who will

never hold her son again."

The remaining three held up their own drinks as they joined the

salute.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris sat in the rocker in the main room of his cabin, watching as

Ezra Standish stirred.

It had only been a few hours since he had finally gotten the gambler

to the safety of his ranch. Ever since the telegraph had come,

telling of his mother's death, Ezra had stubbornly refused to give

into grief. Fact was, he had hidden it away so well, no one even knew

anything was wrong until, worn thin by his own Southern sense of

proper, he snapped, drunk himself into a stupor, and nearly got

himself shot by accused an entire roundup crew of cheating... before

he had even a the chance to set down a game for them.

Getting him out of that one brought Chris' team very near to one hell

of a shoot out. One that, considering the numbers, would not have

turned out in their favor.

It was picking up Ezra's unconscious form that they found the

telegram and things started making sense.

And Chris knew what he had to do.

With a groan, Ezra reached up and dropped a hand over his

eyes. "oooh.... my... that was not a... well thought out... plan." he

grumbled, barely able to form words.

"No." Chris smiled over the rim of his coffee cup. "It wasn't." he

agreed.

One emerald eye snapped open. The other was more hesitant, but it,

too, eventually pealed open. After glancing around, he slowly,

carefully sat up. "Mr. Larabee." he observed.

"Ezra." Chris returned. He rose out of his chair and stepped over to

the fireplace and poured a second cup of hot coffee, topping it off

with a healthy dose of whiskey.

"Pray tell, how did I get here?" Ezra wanted to know, wearily

watching as his leader brought him the spiked coffee. "Not to

forget... Why?" With a nod he except the cup.

Chris crouched down beside him. "I brought you out here because I

didn't want you dragging anyone else into another suicide attempt."

Ezra choked on the first swallow. But, once he had it down, he eyed

the man. "Suicide? My dear Mr Larabee, if you have ever been more

mistaken..."

"I'm sorry 'bout your mother."

Ezra froze for half a breath, and, in that slightest of moments,

everything was revealed: his pain, his loss, his sadness, his

loneliness... before the conman kicked in and he tried to hide it all

again. Glancing down at his cup, he shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't

fully understand, Mr...."

Chris snapped out the telegraph, holding it over Ezra's cup, just

below his eyes.

Again, Ezra froze. after what seemed an eternity, he began to

tremble. "Honestly, Mr, Larabee, I expected no other end for the

woman." he tried to pass off. "It is, indeed, a sad thing, but she

was no more to me that an acquaintance. Nothing..."

"Cut the crap, Ez!" Chris snapped, snatching the cup back so he

wouldn't have anything else to look at. "Your mother is dead!"

The sharp tone snapped Ezra's eyes up. Those clear emeralds were

shiny with tears. He opened his mouth to protest, but a whimper

escaped instead and he quickly bit down on his lip, dropping his eyes.

Chris set the cups aside and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around

the gambler.

At first Ezra stuttered out protests, trying to pull back, push away,

fight off the offered comfort. But he didn't have the will to fight.

And Chris had no intentions of letting go. He held tight, on hand on

the back of Ezra's head, holding it to his chest, his fingers twining

in the soft hair. The other rubbed up and down Ezra's spin, trying to

relax the other man in some small way. "Shhh. It's gonna be alright.

I'll take care of it." Chris whispered soft assurance. "I'll take

care of you." he promised before even realizing what he was saying.

Damn, where had that come from?

Damn, where the hell did he think that came from? He'd been wanting

to take care of this beautiful man since the very first moment he had

stepped into trouble... which was pretty much the second moment he

had known him. The problem had been that Chris had pretty much

decided in that first moment, that he didn't like this lying,

scheming, little snake.

But now...

Ezra's crying had eased, and he laid against Chris' chest, breathing

hard. "She... she... " he tried between gasps. "Last time I saw

her... we... we were actually getting along... and no con was

involved. I mean... she loved me... and... and..." He looked up,

meeting Chris' stone blue eyes. "she loved me." he repeated in a

disbelieving whisper.

Again Chris reacted without thought, his hand coming up to caress

that silky smooth cheek. "'Course she did. Who couldn't?"

Damn, he was really going to have to stop talking before thinking!

Ezra blinked those mesmerizing emeralds. A strange expression flashed

across his face. Suddenly he leaned up, his lips capturing Chris'.

This time, Chris Larabee froze... but only for half a breath. Then he

was leaning into the kiss, his arms circling around his gambler once

again. He kept his eyes wide open so he could watch Ezra's flutter

close, sinking into the warmth and tenderness that Chris poured into

him.

Damn, his heart was pounding like war drums. But he wasn't about to

lose his scalp. His heart, maybe...

It was a chaste kiss, that, despite its relatively shortness, seemed

to last an eternity for the two men. At it's end, Ezra's eyes were

still closed, his face held close to Chris'.

Smiling down at him, Larabee whispered "Open your eyes, Ezra. Look at

me."

Ezra obeyed, looking up at him through those long lashes. For a

moment they looked almost as if he was going to be alright. That all

the pain in the world had just found an unbreakable wall in Chris

Larabee and his fear melting kiss.

But then the gambler's eyes went big and he bolted back. "Oh, shit!"

Scrambling to his feet, he backed away, holding his hands out before

him, warding of any possible attack.

Startled, Chris came to his feet. "What the hell..." he started, more

than a little hurt at this reaction.

Ezra shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... it was an

accident... it won't happen again... please..." he rambled, terrified.

Chris took a step after him. "Ezra... it's alright." he tried, but

the other man was in a panic.

So blinded by fear, Ezra stumbled back, tripping on a stool, and

falling back to the floor with a hard thud.

Chris leaped after, landing on top of him.

His actions did little to calm Ezra. "Stop! I'm sorry. Don't do this.

Don't..." He swung up at Chris trying to dislodge him.

But Larabee grabbed his wrists and slammed his hands down, pinning

them to the floor.

Ezra opened his mouth to continue his plea.

Chris leaned down over him, his mouth capturing Ezra's. And, this

time, there was nothing chaste about their kiss.

Ezra continued to struggle a moment more, before, slowly, he fell

still, his eyes, once more, closing. As Chris' tongue gently pressed

its invasion, exploring and mapping every, tiny little detail of his

mouth, Ezra moaned softly.

Feeling him relax beneath him, Chris' fingers worked their way down

his arms, across his shoulders, and up to cup his face.

His own hands free, the nimble finger's of the gambler crept their

way up and around Chris' neck, pulling his down, even deeper, even

closer.

Finally, the need to breath forced an end to the kiss.

Gasping for breath, Chris rested his forehead against Ezra's. After a

very long time, when he could speak without struggling for air, Chris

asked softly "Are you alright?"

Ezra opened his eyes and he gazed up at him. "I thought... I thought

you would... kill me... for that." he admitted.

"Aw, baby." Chris breathed. He planted a light kiss on those already

kiss swollen lips. "I would never... could never hurt you." he

swore. "Hell, I'd bring down the world on the man who ever tries."

Ah, damn, not thinking before talk... Ah, damn again, forget

thinking! He much rather be kissing than thinking any damn day!

Those emeralds narrowed. "Why?" he wondered.

"Why?!" Chris straightened up and leaned back, pulling Ezra up with

him. Holding him close, he whispered against his lips "Because... I

die every time you hurt." Again he kissed those lips. When he looked

into those emeralds again, he saw tears. "Aw, baby..." Chris sighed.

Ezra dropped his head to his shoulder. "Please... make it go away.

make the hurt go away." he begged between escaping tears.

Chris maneuvered about him, being sure never to brake contact. Then,

scooping up the smaller man and cradling him to his chest, he climbed

to his feet.

"Where..." Ezra half wondered, but was too busy holding on for all he

was worth to really care.

"Bed." Chris answered. "I can't make the pain go away... but I can

make it easier... for awhile anyway."

~~~~~

Chris woke with a start as cool, night air whispered through his

bedroom, and over his naked flesh.

For a moment he was confused, but then the memories of the evening

before and most of the night came back. The purring and petting and

caressing. Soft whispers of assurance and love as he explored that

most perfect golden body from the very top of his head down to the

last toe. Feather soft kisses, breaths of a touch, bring alive that

most perfect golden body. Taking agonizing pleasure in those soft

cries and whimpers as his strong but gentle fingers worked that most

perfect body to the very peak of endurance. Holding him close as he

shuddered with mind blowing releasing, before collapsing into an

exhausted sleep. That most perfect golden body with those shimmering

emerald eyes wrapped securely in... his... embrace...

Chris sat up.

Where was Ezra?

~~~~~

He stood on the porch, gazing out into the night, seeing absolutely

nothing. His arms were crossed over his bare chest, holding himself

against the chill. He wore only a shirt, clumsily tossed on in the

dark bedroom, left to hang open.

Ezra wondered for a moment who shirt it was. It didn't smell like

his. 'Course, after last night not much smelled like his. Even

himself smelled like Chris Larabee.

And, for some reason, that was a comfort. More than a comfort.

Standing there, nearly naked in the cold of the night air, exposed to

all the world who just happened to glance his way, Ezra Standish felt

warm all over.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his middle.

Instinctively, Ezra leaned back against Chris' equally naked body. He

turned his face back and up and was rewarded with a welcoming kiss

from his lover.

"Hey." Chris breathed when he had use of his lips again. "How ya

doin'?"

Ezra smiled slightly, turning back to the night and snuggling back

into those ever so protective arms. "Better." he admitted. "I'm doing

better."

Chris sighed with relief, dropping his chin to his gambler's

shoulder. After a long moment, he said "I'll understand if you want

to pass last night off as just a momentary need. It wasn't as if we

actually had sex. You can forget this if you want..." He stopped when

he felt Ezra stiffen in his arms.

After a deafening silence, Ezra dropped his head. He couldn't hide

the tears in his voice as he whispered "I... I understand. I'll get

dressed and..."

"No!" Chris cried, catching on that he had misunderstood. He spun

Ezra around to face him. When his gambler didn't look up at him,

Chris ducked his head so he could catch those beautiful emerald

eyes. "That isn't it. You don't understand. I don't want you to go! I

never want you to go!" he assured. "I just.... I didn't want you to

think... if you didn't mean..."

Ezra blinked, then a slow smile crept to his lips. Reaching up, he

wrapped his arms around Chris' neck, and pulled him down, silencing

him with a kiss. When he pulled away, he whispered "For a moment I

was lost, afraid I was all alone. And then you found me. I don't

think I'll be going anywhere anytime soon, Mr. Larabee." His eyes

fluttered slightly, and he gazed up at this new found comfort through

his long eye lashes. "That is... if you'll have me...?"

"Damn, Ez." Chris answered, before hugging him to him as tightly as

he could without braking that perfect, golden body.

~~~~~~~~~~