Adult Conversation

the sequel to Reborn and an answer to the June 2003 M7 Challenge by Setcheti

Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never have, never will.

Author’s Note: This story won’t make any sense if you haven’t read Reborn.

Katherine’s June Challenge: What I want is a story that fills in some details on the missing parents or even the ones that we do know something about. Our boys weren't hatched from eggs, and I want to know something about the people who brought them into this world (Figuratively speaking).

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Chris rubbed at the small scar on his upper arm even though he couldn’t actually feel it through his sleeve. It had been a week since he’d been…well, since what had happened had happened. They still didn’t know why, or how, and they most likely never would. The other men had given him a bare-bones account of the two days he’d been…different, and Chris had told them that he didn’t remember any of the details.

He’d lied.

He really hadn’t seen any other way. He wasn’t ready to discuss what had gone on with the other men, didn’t know if he ever would be. Aside from the shock of having briefly been a nine-year-old again, Chris was having trouble equating the men he counted as his closest friends with the adults he’d had to deal with over the course of those two days. Nathan, so full of professional concern and yet so personally distant; Vin and JD, who had mostly avoided him; Josiah, surprisingly callous, who had talked about him like he wasn’t even there. And Buck, who had scared him and in a way still was. Chris didn’t know what he was going to do about that situation; he’d known his oldest friend was used to him being a bastard a good deal of the time, but he hadn’t realized that Buck was dependent on him acting that way. The memory of the tall cowboy angrily trying to force a nine-year-old to assume the persona of a hard-drinking gunslinger was still making Chris shudder – as was the knowledge that none of the others had tried to interfere. Except Ezra, of course.

Buck still wasn’t talking to Ezra, and the other four men appeared to be trying to pretend nothing had happened. Conversely, Inez and Mary weren’t talking to any of the Seven except Ezra and Chris, and twice now Chris had seen Billy run and hide when Buck had come out onto the boardwalk. And Ezra’s professional smile had a brittleness to it that the Seven’s leader hadn’t seen since Maude had ripped her son’s precious saloon out from under him. The gambler was avoiding them all, so subtly that most of the others probably hadn’t noticed it but avoiding them all the same.

Chris knew that Ezra knew he remembered, and he’d been trying for days to get the slippery gambler to talk to him but pinning Ezra down was proving to be an exercise in futility. And to make things worse Chris was having the opposite problem with Buck, who was dogging his heels every spare minute and engaging in new lows when it came to uncouth behavior – especially where it was directed toward Ezra somehow. Chris was ready to kill him. Or to tell him he remembered it all, which might have the effect of killing him without Chris having to get his guns or the nearest loose board involved.

He could see a nice heavy nail-studded board from where he was sitting now, as a matter of fact, and he reflected without much concern that a man knows he’s been pushed too far when he sits around thinking about beating his oldest friend to death. He had to resolve one situation or the other, right now. And since Buck was off involving himself with a woman somewhere that meant it was time to corner Ezra. Or rather, to lie in wait for Ezra; the gambler was due to relieve him at the jail any minute now.

Ezra arrived five minutes late, no doubt in hopes that his boss would either have left or would be too angry to try to talk to him. No such luck. “C’mon into the jail, Ez,” Chris told him tiredly. “It’s too hot to sit out here any longer, if there’s trouble someone will come get us.”

“Indubitably,” was the short and equally tired reply. Ezra dutifully trailed him into the jail and closed the door, then dropped into a chair. He looked tense, no doubt anticipating the conversation to come and expecting nothing good to come of it. But once cornered, Ezra wasn’t one to back down. “You want to speak to me about the…incident, correct?”

“Yeah.” Chris took the other chair and tipped it back on two legs, using the precarious position to make himself less threatening. “Been trying all week, you haven’t exactly made it easy.”

Ezra shrugged. “I suppose I had the naïve expectation that if the subject were avoided all would be forgotten – and that you would prefer it to be so. Apparently I was mistaken. My apologies for inconveniencing you with my assumptions.”

“You don’t have any call to apologize,” Chris told him quietly. “You were the only one who…well, I owe you one. And I kind of feel like I owe you an apology, for Buck.”

“Please, Mr. Larabee. You cannot possibly feel you are responsible for Mr. Wilmington’s behavior.” The gambler sighed. “He is an adult, whether he wants to be or not, and responsibility for his actions rests firmly on his own shoulders.”

Chris snorted. “He’s been a real…”

“I won’t dispute it,” Ezra interrupted. “But I believe that to be his method of coping with the fact that he almost lost you, his friend.”

Another snort. “His crutch, you mean.”

The gambler sighed. “That too. But far better to be that than alone, is it not?”

“I’m still thinking on that one – he’s driving me nuts.” Chris fixed him with a piercing look. “Ain’t no excuse for the way he’s been acting around you, though.”

“I am an adult too, Mr. Larabee,” Ezra told the ceiling, avoiding the look. “While I am not accustomed to being the recipient of jealousy, I am capable of recognizing and ignoring such petty emotions aimed at my person. And I am sure Mr. Wilmington will return to being his usual jovial self once he has had a little time to re-accustom himself to your strong, stable presence in his life.”

“If you say so. I’d still like to smack him upside the head, though.”

To his surprise, Ezra laughed. “I’m afraid I harbored similar sentiments last week, but…other considerations prevented me from following through.”

Okay, there was his opening. “About that,” Chris said as casually as he could. “Been meaning to thank you, I really appreciated the way you handled things while I…um, wasn’t able to.”

“It was nothing anyone else would not have done,” Ezra replied. A frown creased his face. “What was occurring was…unacceptable in the extreme. I thought more of our compatriots than that.”

“I did too.” Chris slowly sat forward in his chair. “I meant what I said in the clinic, you know, about how lucky your son was.”

The gambler flinched. “I would truly prefer not to discuss…my Robin,” he managed. His eyes finally met the gunslinger’s. “Please, Mr. Larabee.”

“I understand.” And Chris did; he recognized the pain in those green eyes from his own mirror. “I just wanted you to know.”

“I thank you for that, then.” Ezra looked away again. “From the sound of it, your mother was quite a woman.”

“Still is,” was the reply. Chris grinned at the other man’s surprised look. “Yep, she’s still alive. It’s just that with my reputation I think it’s better to keep some things quiet.”

“Ah, I see. And your father, is he alive as well?”

Chris shook his head. “Can’t say I miss him. He was with the Army and he wasn’t around much. And when he was around it was awkward, because he didn’t really know us. He tried, but you can’t get to know someone on a three-day pass. And then when he retired…” The gunslinger’s jaw set. “Well, it wasn’t long after that I left home to make my own way. You can’t have two men being head of the house.”

“No, I would expect not,” Ezra said quietly. “And conversely there cannot be no head of the family either. Perhaps that is the source of some of the…difficulties we encountered amongst the members of our little band a week ago; the father figure disappeared, leaving no one behind who could take his place.”

“Not sure I like the sound of that,” the gunslinger snorted. “Didn’t sign on here to do pa duty, unless it’s for Billy now and again.”

“But you do it admirably, on both counts.” Ezra stretched and pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. “If you will forgive my intrusion, you should probably have a talk with young master Travis about his…encounter with Mr. Wilmington.” He cocked one eyebrow. “I believe he is out playing behind his mother’s office right now, as a matter of fact.”

Chris cocked his eyebrow right back. “Tryin’ to get rid of me, Ez?”

“Yes,” was the surprising reply. The gunslinger’s mouth dropped open, and Ezra smiled slightly. “Yes, I am – temporarily, anyway. If you were to return later, however, I would be happy to share a libation with you…and perhaps join in a game of chess, as we were forced to settle for checkers last time due to your inexperience?”

“I’d like that,” Chris told him, and meant it. He wanted to talk to Ezra some more, but if the man needed a few hours of space he wasn’t going to argue. He stood up and put on his hat. “You won’t have to go easy on me this time, though.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ezra drawled, eyes twinkling. “After all, you are a grown man.”

The gunslinger’s grin widened significantly. “Thank goodness for that.”