Memories Of The Heart

Cold.

That was the first he registered. The floor was rough and slightly dusty, scraping into his left palm. His back was leaning against hard wooden boards. The only sound that penetrated the haze that surrounded him was the sound of someone's scared breathing. It took him a little while to realise that the sound was his own breathing. Slowly blinking, he lifted his eyes up and took in the room around him.

It was grey. Worndown. Abandoned. Empty, but spacious. All that combined in his confused mind to tell him that he was in an old warehouse of sorts. His right hand clutched instinctively around something. To his own surprise he had no idea what it was, and had to lift it to see it.

The single lightbulb seemed to expand, sending beams of light down. The light bounced of glints of steel, to be dulled by crimson specks. The ragged teeth of a large blade egded into a black, rubber grip nestled inside his palm. Shock became paralyzing, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. A strangled cry escaped dry lips as he threw the knife away, the mere sight of it sending him into blind, agonizing fear. The metal made a sharp sound hitting the concrete. Then it was silent.

His hands were shaking. The sight mesmerized him. For a dizzy second he wondered if the hands belonged to him or if he was looking at someone else's hands. Carefully he flexed the fingers of the right hand, curling the hand into a fist. A frown marred the previous smooth forehead. Eyes fixed on the hands, he studied them attentively. He took in the slenderness of the fingers, the lines of the palm and the slightly tanned skin. It felt like watching a picture.

He had been so occupied with the strange foreigness of his hands that it took a little while to his eyes and mind to take in the rest of his body, or at least what he could see. His hands were resting on jeans covered legs, the faded denim encasing obvious muscles. His feet were tucked up under him, clad in black boots, the laces half undone. As his hands, they were small, the legs of the jeans so long that they were almost coating the boots from heel to toes.

Without thinking he touched his stomach, wanting to determine why the garment covering his upper body felt stiff and scratchy. His arms were bare, indicating that the piece of clothing was a T-shirt or maybe a shortsleeved shirt. His searching fingers found no buttons, only snug cotton. Something glistened through in his mind, a quick warning signal that was gone before he could even try to analyze it.

Lifting the cotton away from his chest to examine it, the warning was back. This time in form of a crippling stab of pain through his head, but not before he saw what was staining his T-shirt.

Blood.

It was everywhere. Most of it concentrated on his stomach and chest, sending irregular spurts onto his shoulders and arms. Again it felt like watching a picture. He knew that the skin underneath the shirt was whole and unharmed. The blood wasn't his. The memory of light on metal made his stomach turn, and he bit his teeth together to fight a wave of nausea. The small whimper that escaped him, felt unaturally loud in the silence. Pushing himself up a little he scanned the room. Nothing. He was all alone. The floor was clean. Rational thoughts told him that there would have to be more blood. So whatever it was that had happened...it hadn't happened in here.

Slowly and awkwardly he got to his feet. The room swayed and bright flecks of light danced before him. Taking several deep breaths, he attempted to calm himself, raising his hand to trail through locks of hair.

Only to have his hand pausing half way up. Because he didn't know what he would find.

Renewed fear slammed into him. Thoughts swirled in an out of control vortex. He had absolutely no idea what his hair looked like, not even what it felt like. Nor the colour or texture of it. Nothing.

In a desperate search for some control he tried to picture his own image. Still nothing. Just a blank slate. Shadows dripped over his mind. A heavy, damp fog settled in over his mind, drowning out the knowledge he knew had to be there. Wherever he turned he met the same pulsating darkness, the same unpenetretable wall. Everything was gone. His image, his name, where he lived, his age... Everything.

He had no recollection of who he was at all.

Basic instincts took over for his mind and he did the only thing he could think of. He ran. But the building had somehow turned itself into a maze when he had his back turned and he couldn't find the way out. Every wall seemed alike, the wooden boards curving in evil smiles. The dust on the floor whispered to him as his feet made their way over it. Every doorway seemed to grow fingers to reach out and trap him with.

Eventually his body forced him to slow down. The initial adrenaline surge was quieting down, leaving him with only the numbing fear and despair. He found refuge in a small hallway, pressing himself into the wall. The corner allowed him to slip down to the floor, to curl up making himself as small as possible. It was getting difficult to breathe, the floating specks of light was again making his vision blur. Reality was rushing out from his grasp, the floor tilting dangerously.

"I've been looking for you," a calm voice intruded his private world of chaos.

Squinting he tried to make out the form standing a few steps away. Drops of sweat was trailing down his face and numerous variations of pain were colliding to make him nearly welcome the evergrowing darkness. "Who are you?" he managed at last, his voice a breath over a mere whisper. "What is this place? What am I doing here?"

Then the last of the light was snuffed out. Everything was dark.

The atmosphere had been tense for several hours.

JD's dark eyes had been watching the computer screens for so long he felt like he had the imprints on them permanently glued to his retinas. But he didn't dare to look away. Although it had been quiet for so long now, he told himself that it wouldn't last. Soon, very soon, the small sound and blinking indicator would locate their missing team member once more.

"It's the tracking device," he muttered to himself. "I knew I should have tested it more... It's malfunctioning..."

Next to him the tall body of Nathan was perched in a chair. "Doesn't matter, JD. We still should be able to hear him."

"Maybe he needed to get rid of the wire?" The younger man's dark brown eyes were pleading with the other to let him hold onto the glimmer of much needed hope. "You know him, he can be reckless as all hell. He's probably relying on us tracking them."

A large hand landed on his shoulder. "It's going to be ok, JD. I'm sure he's safe."

"Yeah. He's safe." But neither of them could trust completely in their own words. JD went back to his computer, feeling the look of their sharp shooter on him. Vin was quieter than usual, diverting all his energy into what JD was doing. Searching for signs that their friend was ok.

Hearing the quiet exchange of words, Chris turned to stare at the warehouse again. Everything looked treacherously peacefull. They were a few miles out of town, on the deserted ground of what had been an old factory. The van was parked well out of sight for anyone inside of the building. Lifting the small binoculars he again scanned the facade, finding nothing new. It had been hours. He had the utmost respect for, and faith in the man on the inside, but he was sure as hell not willing to risk his life for a bust.

"We're going in," he stated, voice toneless and flat. The eyes of the two remaining team members were on him in an instant. At the sound of Josiah's "We should never have waited this long," he knew how worried their normally calm and collected friend was. Buck didn't say anything, just stopped his pacing to check his gun and put on the bulletproof vest. But his face told Chris anything he would need to know. The large man was tenser than he'd ever seen him, the clear blue eyes nearly black with emotions.

"Buck?" Chris carefully adressed him. "You ok?"

"Yeah." The answer was short. "Let's do this."

Their movements were second nature by now, every one of them knowing exactly what he would be doing and what his place in the team was. The strong bond between them and the full knowlegde of each others' strengths and weaknesses made them more successfull than any other team.

Silently and quickly they made their way into the building. Like well oiled parts of a racing engine they searched the premise, ready to face any irregularity in the flow. Only to come up with nothing. The building was as empty and silent as it had looked from the outside. They were all alone.

"They're gone." JD's unbelieving voice sounded out of place in the old warehouse.

Chris' face was closed, not letting any of the emotional turmoil slip through. "Search the place again. I want this building turned upside-down and inside-out if you have to."

As the other men moved out, the blond placed his hand on Buck's arm. "Wait a minute, Buck. I have to ask you something."

Several different emotions made their way over the taller man's open face. Then he sighed. "I know, Chris. I know."

"You ready to tell me about it?"

Blue eyes found his in an instant. "I'm not going to screw up the case because of it. Don't you dare take me off this case, Chris."

"I won't. I promise." Chris was relieved to see that at least a fraction of the tension left his friend. "But...I need to know what's going on here, Buck."

He already knew what was going on, or at least he had a good idea. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it coming. Wishing he could just be happy for his two friends, he knew that the newfound happiness could be right about to be shattered.

A few seconds of silence ticked by before Buck answered. A smile derived from happy memories played over his features.

"I love him, Chris. Simple as that."

His friend nodded. "We're getting him back, Buck, don't you worry." A small bout of curiousity made him add: "Does he know how you're feeling?"

"I sure hope so. After all I do tell him just about every time I lay eyes on him."

The smile mirrored itself on Chris' face. "That'll do it. I'm happy for you, Buck, I'm happy for you both." He was about to say something else as a movement caught his eyes. Vin appeared at his side, wearing a grim expression.

"We found a body."

Hearing the quiet sound of utter despair coming from Buck, Chris quickly placed a hand on his shoulder. "And?"

"Don't worry, it's not Ezra." The Westerner hesitated. "But the corpse was in real bad shape, somebody took their time to really butcher the poor guy."

"Call in backup," Chris sighed, arranging his arm around Buck's shoulder. Vin sent the movement a little look, but made no mention of it. As far as Chris knew, the brownhaired man probably knew about their two friends before even they knew themselves.

As Vin left again, Chris tried to steer the taller man towards the exit. "Come on, Buck, let's get you out of here."

To his surprise Buck shrugged out of his hold, eyes blazing. "I'm still very capable of doing my job, Larabee."

"That's not what I meant. You look ready to pass out, your face is as white as paper. I don't know about you, but I don't want you fainting in front of the coroners. If the wrong kind of people find out about you and Ez, you will be taken off the case. Then they'll probably have you both assigned to different teams. You want that?"

"No." All will to fight seemed to have left Buck.

"Good. Then let me get you out into the van and we'll start planning a way to get Ezra back into your arms, safe and sound." Chris hated the harsh words, but at the moment they were the only ones he knew would help him get what he wanted. The tall, darkhaired man seemed ready to break down at any second. Nudging him against the van, Chris tried not to think of the specific nature of their assignment. He didn't succeed.

George Delmer Donovan was in every detail the perfect gentleman, to the outer public. A wealthy businessman with a beautiful wife, who made large contributions to a variety of charities every year. What most people didn't know was that most of the man's money came from illegal businesses that dealt in the trading of humans. Because of Donovan hundreds of young boys and young men had been kidnapped and drugged to provide bordellos or a single buyer with the right amount of money. This was only one branch of the vast emporium that Donovan had built up and that Chris fervently wanted to see destroyed. The thought of their own agent, their friend, being at such a monster's mercy chilled him to the bone.

Buck had to be thinking the same thing. Ezra had gone undercover as a male streetwalker, knowing that Donovan's organization preferred taking the ones who were most likely not to be reported missing. Three weeks had gone by, with the six others playing customers of their bemused Southerner's 'services'. Then one night their target had taken the bait. From there everything took a wrong turn.

The young man had been standing alone on a street corner when a black vehicle had pulled up next to him. In perfect sync with his role he had sauntered over to the window that was slowly opening.

"Evening, mister," they could hear his voice over the wire, the thick coating of the accent betraying the calm, light tone. "You looking for something?"

A voice none of them knew, replied. "Yeah, kid. You."

"Well, then I would have to say you've come to the right place. And just...what...were you looking for me for?"

"Get in the car and I'll tell you."

"Oh no. I believe there are some issues that need to be discussed first."

"Yes, the money... I'll pay whatever you usually charge for your...services. If you do good I'll even throw in a little bonus."

"I always do good, mister."

"Then get in the car and prove it."

Ezra had taken a step back from the car. "I'm sorry, but I don't do backseats. Why don't you park that nice car of yours and I'll show you a nice place where we can have some fun?"

Instead of the spoken reply a revolver was directed out of the window, aimed straight at the greeneyed man. "I don't think so, kid. Get into the car before I blow your pretty, little head away."

They had tracked the car to the warehouse on the factory ground. The man inside of the dark car had kept the gun pointed at their team mate, leading him into the building. Shortly thereafter they had lost all contact. Chris was very aware of that Ezra might have gotten rid of the wire if he stood a chance to be found out. This particular assignement had meant a lot to him and he was hellbent on taking down Donovan. And if JD was correct and the tracking device was simply playing up... He had waited.

And now everything had gone to hell in a handbasket.

"Donovan likes to sample the goods a little before shipping them on," the informant had told them. "Especially the young, innocent looking ones... If Kurtz, that's his right-hand man, sees someone he thinks his boss will enjoy, he lets him know. After he has had his fun with them, they get moved on. If they're still breathing..." Looking Ezra up and down, a leer showed on the older man's face. "This precious, little thing will do nicely..."

At this point Buck's attempt to punch the man's lights out seemed a lot more reasonable. The man was a employee of Donovan, they had taken him with a truckload of tied-up, drugged youths at the state border. Facing a very long jailsentence, he chose to cooperate in turn for a lesser sentence.

Checking the computer again for any signs of life, Chris felt fear constrict his chest. Buck was slumped in a chair, hiding his face in his hands. Still no sign. The silence inside the vehicle was deafening.

"We still don't know if they found out who he really is."

His words made Buck look up, a humourless smile on his face. "So what, Chris? They still took him away, and I have no idea where he is, if he's safe..." Anger sent the blue eyes burning. "I swear, if that psycho lays a finger on him..." The burning was only enhanced by the sheen of tears.

Chris reached out and took one of the shaking hands between his own two. "He's going to be ok, Buck. It won't be long before you have him back, I promise. I'll even give you both a week off so you can show him just how much you have missed him."

A lone tear made it's way down the darker man's pale cheek. "It just scares me so, Chris... He's my life, my heart. What am I supposed to do without him?"

Chris had no answer for that.

Thomas Kurtz had worked for Donovan for years. His job as security coordinator payed more than well, and his boss' profession didn't bother him in the least. Power and money were the main importances in his life and until now he had been nothing but happy with his work.

Standing over the curled-up figure of a auburnhaired young man, his face was dark.

"You're telling me he's an ATF agent? That what the hell is he doing here, not to mention alive?" He kicked the unconscious figure, watching with satisfaction the pained expression fluttering over the pale, grey features.

Donovan chuckled. "Listen to what I am telling you, my friend. He doesn't remember anything. Not his own name, most certainly not mine. He had no idea who I was. How could I let such a golden opportunity pass through my fingers? After all I thought I'd lost him when he ran away after Mr. Carder's unfortunate demise." A cruel look showed on the tall, muscular man's face. "I told the old cook he was to keep his hands to himself. Normally I applause his taste in the specimens he brings in for me...but I don't like someone's else's leftovers." The brown eyes found the man laying on the ground in front of him. "Look at him, he is gorgeous, isn't he?" A hungry smile curved his lips. "I'm afraid that we will have to find a new provider for that part of town. Especially if there are more like this one out there. I have several customers who will pay a lot of money for someone like him."

"Then why don't you call them?" The dry tone of voice from his second-in-command dripped of sarcasm, making Donovan frown.

"Because of a certain gentleman called Orrin Travis. The man has made my life miserable for a long time now. And I do believe this little one is a member of his cherished Team Seven. What better way to get the old man than to destroy those who means the most to him? Unfortunelately I have had some trouble getting to his lovely wife and daughter-in-law...but this will do just as well. We'll use this one to get to the rest of the team as well. When all of them are dead, I'll make sure that Travis knows who was behind it before I kill him as well."

"And it's really worth all this? You know that Travis will never be able to gather enough evidence to get you convicted."

Donovan straightened. "A man of my position has to think of his good name. Mr. Travis seems determined to ruin it. I can't have that. Can you imagine what my wife, and our friends at the country club would think of the matter?"

"Then let me fix it!" Kurtz didn't mind that he was beginning to sound pleading. Donovan had helped him make an obscene amount of money, but the other man was far from sane, proven on numerous accounts. He had no intentions of letting his boss lead him right to jail. "I'll make sure that noone takes him seriously. Just let me deal with the man and for God's sake, get rid of this guy."

"Of course not!" Donovan looked apalled. "I'm taking the little one to my cabin. I am looking most forward to having him wake up again. And since you keep insisting, I'll let you help me bring down the fabled Team Seven." An evil smile slid across his face. "Don't ever question me, Thomas. Or I'll be forced to have to teach you your place. It will not be pleasant."

"Yes, sir." Kurtz looked away. He already had a back-up plan and escape route laid out for incidents like this. But he still was reluctant to leave such a lucrative business. Donovan would probably calm down and forget all about his ridiculous plan after enjoying the auburnhaired agent. At least he'd be in a much better mood.

"I'll have him brought to your cabin," he said, crouching next to the still unconscious man. "And I'll have someone clean him up and change his clothes so he'll look presentable."

"Thank you, Thomas." Donovan was smiling. "I knew you would see things my way. Now don't be long. I'm anxious to see those big, green eyes again." Whistling to himself he left.

Silently Kurtz stared at the man in front of him. The younger man's face was pale and drawn, bruises and traces of blood marring the smoothness of his skin. "Poor sucker," he absentmindly thought. "Oh well, at least you get my boss in a better mood." A small smile crossed the thin lips. "And he'll get his deranged mind back to what's important. Making money for me."

The cabin was built to fit in between the large pine trees, making it almost invisible if you didn't know it was there. Following the road it delievered you right on the doorstep of a large, wooden cabin you had no idea was there a few minutes earlier. Somehow Kurtz found that fitting. Thankfully the road was broad and wellkept, still he feared for his beloved BMW as he slowly drove towards his destination. He gave a relieved sigh as the car hummed to a stop outside the building. Quickly he exited the car, turning to open the back door. The blanketcovered bundle in the backseat hadn't moved at all.

Kurtz paused, about to pull the blanket away. The man was shorter than him, but of a solid build. He wasn't exactly looking forward to carrying the other inside. But Donovan would probably want to be there when the agent woke up and could be quite disappointed if Kurtz was to spoil his fun. So he hauled the unconscious agent out of the car, maneuvering the both of them onto the porch and in through the door. The hallway inside was large, made from expensive, polished wood. Only the best was good enough for Donovan, something he was rather fond of reminding them with a bright smile.

"There you are!"

His boss' voice was so delighted that for a moment Kurtz was almost waiting to see the older man start jumping up and down, clapping his hands. "Where do you want him?" he grunted in reply, straining a little under the weight. "There's not all that much of him, but he sure is heavy."

"Bedroom. Upstairs." Brown eyes were glittering. He followed close behind them as Kurtz started the stairs. In silence they reached the bedroom. A large bed domimated the room, where Kurtz disposed himself of the weight.

Stepping out of the way he let Donovan come close to the bed. "He's all yours." Turning to leave, Donovan's voice stopped him.

"Wait a minute, Thomas. I had time to do some thinking while I was waiting for you and the little one here. And as much as I hate to admit it...I have come to believe that my plan for Mr. Travis was indeed a little rash."

Allowing himself a smile Kurtz turned around. The smile disappeared quickly as he saw the darkhaired man's face. "Oh?"

"Yes. I am not going to be the one to kill Travis." Donovan stared down at the man in the bed, a finger lifting to point. "He is."

"He is...killing Travis for you?" Kurtz repeated. "Mr. Donovan, you hired me to take care of security. I have to say you're starting to make my job more difficult than it has to be. It's bad enough that you didn't bring the knife you used on Carder back. Let me handle this."

The other was shaking his head, sighing. "Thomas, Thomas... You haven't even heard my plan yet! It's brilliant... See, our little friend here doesn't remember anything, right? So when he wakes up again, he will believe whatever I tell him. Including that his former colleagues are now his enemies. I ask you, what could be better than to kill the ones Travis cares about?"

Again the look of childish joy radiated from the browneyed man, making Kurtz shiver involuntary.

"That one of the ones he cares about kills him."

The bedroom was light and comfortable. The beige colour of the walls reminded Kurtz about rich caramel. A mild summer breeze made the curtains slowly twine themselves around the windowframe.

He had to choose his words carefully.

"Are you sure that it will work? What if he regains his memory? What if you send him after Travis and when he sees the old man, he remembers everything...you have just exposed yourself completely."

Impatiently, Donovan waved a hand through the air. "Details, minor details... He will of course be watched at all times. At any sign of that his memory is coming back, he will never live to tell. We'll simply convince him that Travis is his enemy and needs to die. And if the rest of the team should come in his way, well...he'll have to take care of them too. See, Thomas, it's a win-win situation. It's perfect." He stopped, like he just had remembered somethng. "Oh and about the knife, I made sure that my prints aren't on it. I gave it to our friend here. Although, he didn't particulary like it though. I take care of everything, don't you see?" Donovan was beaming proudly at him.

"Please, Mr. Donovan.... It's too risky. He hasn't even woken up yet, he could already have his memory back. Why don't you just kill him instead and then have him presented to Travis...it will break the old guy just as much, that one of them gets killed because of him."

"But it always works in the movies!" Donovan was sulking. "And I am the one who calls the shots here, Thomas. I told you that I don't like you questioning me like that!" He straightened. "I will personally see to that my new, little friend here gets the information that is needed. He will do just what he is told. Just wait and see. Now go away. I want to play with my new toy." He turned his back to Kurtz.

Reluctantly Kurtz left. It was becoming more and more clear to him that he would have to fix this on his own. With Travis gone, Donovan wouldn't launch his demented plan. And if he still should try... Maybe the organization would benefit from a new leader. A smile spread over the man's face. Actually, that was starting to sound better and better. Under his leadership, they wouldn't just be delievering nationwide. No, they could become a international corporation. Amused, Kurtz felt a tingle race down his spine, heavy warmth settling in the center of his body. He almost envied Donovan the company of his little playtoy. Maybe he'd use the evening to go out and get his own.

On the floor above him, Donovan was sighing happily. He had sat down in the bed, and was just starting to explore his latest prize properly. To his happy observation Kurtz had been kind enough to leave the blue jeans on, the fabric clinging to the outline of the smaller man's body. Instead of the white T-shirt, he was now wearing a black one, a little too big for him. The shirt had bunched up in the back, revealing tempting, smooth skin. Running his hand over a broad back, Donovan's fingers came upon a small silver chain around the other's neck. A silver pendant was attached to the chain. Easily ripping it off, the darkhaired man watched the small locket, then he threw it away.

Lifting one of the unconscious man's hand, Donovan admired the frailty. "So pretty," he sighed again. "Almost like my own pretty doll. That's right. So pretty..."

A weak sound made him look at the face of the man lying in the bed. A light frown made its way over his features, and the hand in Donovan's hold was trying to withdraw. Slowly, very slowly, clouded green eyes opened.

At first JD couldn't determine where the small sound was coming from. The premise was buzzing with activity. The coroners had removed the body, which he was grateful for. He hadn't seen more than a glimpse of it, but the amount of blood still made his stomach roll unpleasantly. The knife they had retrieved a few rooms away from the body was on its way the lab to get tested. He was still wondering about the wire. Since the connection was broken JD was sure that Ezra had removed it himself because he was in danger of being found out.

"I really wish you hadn't done that, Ez," he thought sadly. "We sure could use to hear your voice right now." Too deep in thoughts it took a few seconds before he was turning towards the beeping sound. Then his eyes widened.

The young man scrambled out of his seat, almost hitting the door in his rush to open it. Tumbling out onto the grass he spotted Buck a few steps away.

"Buck! Buck, I got him! The tracking kicked back in! I got him!"

The older man was at his side in less than an instant. "What? I thought you said the tracking was broken? Where is he?"

JD was hurrying back to his computers. With Buck in tow, he sat down again, his fingers dancing over the keys in a familiar routine. The small, beeping light was in the middle of an area that steadily got smaller. The city map flashed by, the search program locating the part it needed.

"There." JD's voice held proud satisfaction. "Pine Grove. The small forest area North of here."

Buck didn't reply. JD startled a little as the engine of the van roared to life underneath them.

"Buck? What are you doing?"

"What the hell do you think I am doing? I'm getting Ez back."

"But..." The unexpected behaviour from his best friend, had the darkhaired man confused. "Shouldn't you tell Chris and the rest of them, I don't think we should be taking off on our own like this..." A cell phone landed in his lap.

"Then tell them."

"Oh. Allright." Quickly dialling the number, JD sent the man in the front seat another look, before placing the small phone to his ear.

A little later he made his way into the front seat as well. As he was seated and buckled in, Buck sent him a sideways glance.

"Chris mad?"

"Does the word irate mean anything to you? If I were you I'd avoid our Mr. Larabee for at least the next month."

The words made Buck slightly cringe. "That mad, huh? Well, it doesn't matter...I'm damn sure not going to wait. Not when..." He paused, sounding uncertain. "JD, there is something I have to tell you. I'm sorry that I haven't done so before....but we, I mean I, wasn't sure of how you'd take it."

"Take what?" JD was still a bit surprised over the other's actions, but figured there was a good reason behind what Buck was doing. Taking off on their own like this was unheard of, and they were very likely to be placing themselves in danger. Trusting his big brother completely, JD simply leaned back and prepared himself for whatever was to come.

"You know I told you a while back that I'd met somebody?" Buck's voice shook him out of his thoughts again.

"Of course I do. You'd been uncommonly tightlipped about your new ladyfriend, usually you talk willingly away about them."

"It ain't no ladyfriend, JD. It's Ezra."

As the younger man was completely still, Buck carefully snuck a glance at him. "JD? Kid, you allright?" The blue eyes turned back to the road where the scenery was whizzing by at great speed. "I know I should have told you sooner, but... A lot of things really. I mean, both Ez and me were kinda shocked ourselves, it's not like we expected to one day just look at the other and realise that you're madly in love."

"That's what happened between you and Ezra?" JD's voice was soft.

A fond smile grazed the older man's face. "For me at least. One moment he's annoying the heck outta me as usual, and the next moment I just wanted to hold him... I'm telling you, I was so freaked out at the time. You have no idea..."

"What did Ezra do then?"

"Oh, he just looked at me with those huge, green eyes of his...and then I knew. That I was hopelessly and utterly in love. And that I was actually fine with it too." There was a far-away look in Buck's blue eyes. "Of course I had to do some serious convincing to make him trust me, that I was serious." His fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter, a pained look settling over his features. "I swear, if those devils have done anything to hurt him, I'll rip them apart limb by limb and force the pieces down their throats."

Seeing the seething anger on the normally calm and cheerful face, JD felt a shiver of cold over his spine. He reached out to place his hand on Buck's arm. "He's allright, Buck, he has to be. At least we know where he is now."

"That mean you don't mind? About me being with Ezra?" The hopefulness in Buck's eyes made JD smile in spite of all.

"Of course not, Buck. Why should I mind that two of my best friends has found happiness with each other? Sheesh, I thought you knew me, Buck!" JD shook his head teasingly. "Seriously, you two are good for each other..." His voice trailed off as a memory suddenly hit.

"Say, Buck... That one time you were playing customer to Ez's cover. Did the comm system really malfunction?" To his amusement a slight blush coloured Buck's face.

"Uhm, the truth? No. I turned it off. Just for a little while..."

Now JD nodded. "You have any idea how much trouble you caused back at HQ? We thought we'd lost the both of you. And all the while you and Ez were just getting a little too into character."

Buck had the decency to look a little shameful. "But I hadn't seen him for ages! It wasn't like I could touch him whenever you guys was around, we needed some privacy. Just the two of us."

"That's going to change now." JD paused. "Not that we're going to be listening to you guys getting intimate, but you should be able to show affection for each other even when you're not alone. Do the others know?"

"No," Buck shook his head. "Just Chris. I had to tell him earlier today. Other than him, you're the only one."

JD was watching him. "But you're going to tell them, right? When we get back?"

"Probably. We're going to have to, because once I get my Ez back I am never letting him out of my arms again."

When he saw Buck again, Chris was going to strangle him. Nice and slow. Not only had the maniac taken off on his own, with their youngest team member. He had also taken the only car. Which meant that they were wasting precious time as Josiah had hitched a ride back into town with the medical examiners to get one of their own vehicles. Standing very still, trying to calm down a little, Chris looked up to find Nathan approaching him. By the sight of the other man's face, something was very definetly wrong.

"What?" he snapped. Then he sobered. "Sorry, Nate, I'm a little on egde here."

"We all are," Nathan assured him. "It's ok. I'm afraid I got more bad news though."

Chris ran both hand through his hair. "What now?"

"The tests of the knife came back. The blood matched, it was the one that was used to murder the guy we found." Nathan hesitated.

"And?" Chris looked at him. "Oh God, no. Please don't tell me..."

"They found a clear set of fingerprints on the handle. The prints belongs to Ezra."

"No. I don't believe it. He could never do something like that."

"The prints are his, no doubt about that." Seeing Chris' look, Nathan quickly continued. "But there were also other prints, but they were too smudged to get a proper read. Maybe Ezra had to defend himself... We've got an ID on the dead man as well. He's got several convictions for rape and sexual abuse. He had a history of using a knife on his victims."

The image of the dead man passed through Chris' mind. "Whatever was done to the guy, it wasn't just someone defending themselves. The man was slaughtered. And you know as well as I do, that Ezra isn't capable of doing something like that. He didn't do it. I don't know how his prints got on the knife, but he did not kill that guy." The blond's voice was low and icy, not tolerating any arguments.

"Relax." Nathan's voice was calm as ever. "I don't think he did it either. But his prints are on the knife. Which means that we have to find out what really happened in there. The only one who can tell us for sure, is Ezra." He looked around. "Josiah back with the car yet?"

"No. I told JD to keep us informed on where they're going, and to wait for us. I just hope that he can handle Buck in the way he's right now..." He received a curious glance from Nathan.

"Something wrong with Buck?"

Chris sighed. "No, not more than usual. I really wish he had waited for us this time. I hope he doesn't do anything stupid."

"At least he's not alone, JD's with him."

"Yeah. Don't know if that's all a good thing. God, I really wish they had waited for us."

This time it was different waking up. A steady, dull pain had taken up residence in his head, but he wasn't in the same place anymore. As reality started to seep through the darkness around him, he felt someone holding his hand. Again a glimmer of something raced through his mind, too fast for him to grasp. Eagerly searching for the fragment, the pain in his head got worse, making him give a faint groan. Carefully he opened his eyes, almost afraid to take in the new surroundings.

He was in a bedroom. The walls were of a light sandy colour, the colour only broken by the red and darker brown tones of the furnitures and the curtains in front of the open window. A few photograps decorated the walls, mostly nature scenes by night. The bed underneath him felt strangely yielding, keeping him from getting up. The world was still moving before his eyes, taking away his sense of balance.

The fingers that had been holding his hand curled tighter around his own fingers. More fingers crept up his wrist, fingertips grazing the skin. The man sitting beside him on the bed was tall, that was obvious even sitting down. His body was wellbuilt, powerful muscles clad in a dark silkshirt and dress pants. Moving up the green eyes met a strongly featured face dominated by deeply set brown eyes and a square jaw. Short, dark hair framed the face that he realised that he was supposed to know.

The face had been watching him intently. Then it lightened in a bright smile. Strong arms pulled him into a tight embrace, rocking him like a small child. A large hand was petting his hair. The movement made him feel dizzy again and he leaned strengthlessly against the bigger man. Torn images and thoughts were still caught in a frenzied whirlpool inside of his head. There was something he needed to remember, something insistent that kept trying to break through the heavy defense mechanismes his mind had set up. Closing his eyes again he rested his head against a broad shoulder, the throbbing headache diminishing as he let the warnings fade away again. Then he realised that the darkhaired man was talking to him. The same words over and over again.

"It's ok, precious, it's ok now. I am here to take care of you now."

The slow, spinning voice added to the turmoil inside of him. The broken pieces and glimpses of what he was fighting so hard to remember made him almost inattentive to the impressions coming from the world around him. Strong arms were enveloped around him, while a hand was stroking his hair. The words drifted through every once in a while, an unvelcome distraction when all he really wanted was to curl up into a corner and try and block away the pain in his head.

"I know you're hurting, my dear."

"Then why the hell do you insist on talking to me then?" he sourly thought. "Leave me be." A feeble attempt to draw back only resulted in him being held closer to the darker man.

"It's ok, don't you worry. I know who it was. I know who made you hurt like this." Now he was listening more intently to the voice. The world was a treacherous mass of swirling images and colours, so sharp even in their floating state that they hurt his eyes.

"And I know how you can make it go away."

Hearing that, he stilled. Allowing the man he knew that he knew the name of, keep holding him, he waited anxiously for the rest.

"Yes, he is the one that did this to you... And when he is gone, everything is going to be fine again. All you have to do is get rid of him, then everything will be better." There was a pregnant pause, then the words flowed on. "All you have to do is kill Travis, then everything is going to be fine."

"Kill Travis." He startled at the sound of his own voice. Even that sounded foreign to him. The distinct accent was a blessing, giving him one more clue to the mystery that was him. Obviously he was a Southerner, at least raised there. As far as he could see, he was much longer North now. But then again, he only had the view from the large window to go by. But still, there was a certainty in him, that he was a long way from home now.

"Yes." The voice was back. "I will help you. And when the old man's gone, I'll make sure you won't feel any pain at all."

The man holding him had dark hair. The sight of the short, raven locks sparked another flash in his mind. Frowning he tried to match the real image with the thought image. There was a darkhaired man in his life, which was why he had thought he'd feel safe in this man's company. But something wasn't right. It felt like watching your own reflection in a window. You could see every detail, but the mirror image was also filled with everything outside the window.

The images didn't match. Several more images flashed by inside his mind, too quickly to grasp. But every one of them left him with a feeling that something was terribly wrong. He wasn't supposed to be there, wasn't supposed to be this close to the man next to him.

Donovan had let the greeneyed man lean back a little, assuming that the other was simply thinking about what he had just said. But the look in the green gaze when it lifted to meet his was not what he had expected.

"I know you..." The voice had gained strentgh now, the smooth drawl still strongly present. The curved eyebrows over the emerald eyes drew together in a frown of concentration. "At least I think I do..." A fist was raised and pressed to his forehead. "Why can't I remember? It's..." The words melted away into compact silence. The hand fell away, as the young man lost what little colour was left in his face. Then he lifted his eyes to meet Donovan's again.

"It was you... The knife...you had the knife..." The words were alternating between tumbling over each other and coming nearly painfully slow as his mind fought to assemble the pieces. "You... You killed him..." He placed his palms against the larger man's chest, forcefully pushing him away, eyes burning wildly. "You killed him!"

"You sure this is the right place, JD?" Buck was cursing under his breath as one of van's tires caught in yet another hole in the road. "It don't seem anyone's been out here in way too long."

The younger man was busy fiddling with the hand-held screen in his lap. He looked up briefly at Buck's words.

"'Course I am. This is the place, Ezra is around here somewhere." He directed his eyes to the heavy forest outside before going back to the computer. "And as soon as I get the signal from the tracker into this baby, I'll be able to tell you exactly where he is down to the last inch. I'm telling you, Buck... Whoah, where did that come from?"

A tall wall of timber had seemingly raised itself up from nothing in front of them. The size of the wall indicated that it was part of a large building. The matted colour didn't reflect the sun in any way, completing the discreet placement between a number of wide pines.

"I guess someone doesn't want to be found." Buck's voice was calm, with a tense underlining that didn't escape the younger agent. "JD, you got the signal yet?"

"I do. And it's here. Ezra must be inside the cabin."

"Alright then." Buck opened the door and stepped outside. "Grab your gun, kid. I am going to have a quick chat with Mr. Donovan. Then I am getting my baby the hell outta there."

With a speed Buck would never imagined the somewhat clumsy man to have, JD scrambled around the car and stopped him with a flat palm to his chest.

"Oh no. You're not going to just barge in there like some righteous cowboy out of a ladies' novel. Not at all. I intend to get both you and Ez back sound and safe. Chris will kill me if I don't. So you stay right here until we can work out a decent plan, you hear me?"

Surprised blue eyes blinked back at him. "I hear ya. But you better come up with a plan awfully fast."

"I will, I will," JD mumbled. After scanning the area with his eyes, he moved to the back of the van.

"This place must have cost someone a lot of money. And as you said yourself, I don't think that 'someone' wants to be found. And if I was that whoever's inside of there, I'd get me a good alarm system to be sure."

Watching the fellow agent click on a number of the screens in the back of the car, Buck shifted impatiently. He hated waiting. Especially when he was so close, so close to be able to hold Ezra in his arms again. His lover was just inside of those walls, at the mercy of a maniac who had God-knew-what intentions... He had to stop himself from thinking about what he knew about Donovan to keep himself together. The dark was falling in the woods, the afternoon rapidly sliding over into night.

"It has to be Donovan," he heard himself say, leaning to one of the double doors at the back of the car.

JD nodded, working on the computers with his usual energy. "But we can't be sure though, could be some client of his as well..." He fell silent, looking up at Buck. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you worry more... And you know Ez, he's a like a cat, right? Always landing on his feet. I'll bet you that in a minute or so, he'll come walking out of there himself, asking what took us so long."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did." Buck had learnt to expect everything from his companion and fellow agent.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by JD grabbing a small, black backpack and jumping out of the car. "Seems like they're relying on that noone's gonna find them out here, because the alarms are crap. All I need to do is to find a circuit box and I can turn the whole thing off."

"Then I can go beat the shit outta Donovan?"

"Yes, Buck. Then you can go beat up Donovan."

A cold, feral smile crossed the taller man's face. "Good."

Things were absolutely not going the way Donovan had planned. The sudden change of the man in his arms had momentarily stunned him. Regaining his composure he threw himself out of the bed, tackling the smaller man to the floor.

This time he was being fought, frantic and desperatedly. Fingers dug into the side of his face, nails clawing into the skin. Slick with fresh blood the fingers slipped. Drops of the crimson liquid reached the side of the darkhaired man's mouth, the tip of his tongue reaching out to collect the blood. The metallic taste was sweet to him, leaving him craving for more. Taking hold of soft locks of hair he slammed the smaller man's head into the floor boards. Easily moving he flipped the other around, placing a knee in the small of his back. Raising himself up on his arms, Donovan leaned in to whisper in his captive's ear.

"I really wish you hadn't remembered." The voice was slithering through the air like oil-like smoke, clinging to skin and mind with invisible fangs. "Now I will have to kill you, my dear, I had really hoped to avoid that..."

Large hands was curved around a slender neck, fingers brushing over the damp skin. "But then again... I think we must have some fun first. Kurtz will be happy to hear that I have decided to go with his plan. Maybe I'll even call Travis up, and let him hear how much I'll enjoy this." The fingers tightened.

"So pretty... I really wish I could keep you." He kept squeezing until he felt the man underneath him go limp and immobile. Then he sat back, a smile touching the childlike face into amused curves.

True to his words JD had disabled the alarm system, allowing them to move closer to the cabin. The young man kept a close look out, knowing that there might be more, hidden alarms. Carefully and slolwy he lead the way onto the wide porch.

"What the hell are you doing?" Buck's low voice reached him. "You going to ring the door bell now?"

Looking at him over his shoulder, JD nodded. "Of course. Don't you think he'll realise that he has lost when he sees the two of us, two big and bad ATF agents? Heck, he'll even confess to anything we want him to..."

"You do realise that you're nuts, right?"

Instead of replying, JD pointed to a glimmer of metal inbetween the trees. "Cameras, Buck. And thankfully, none of them are directed this way. They probably never imagined someone coming through the front door. Too obvious."

"Well," Buck relased the safety on his revolver. "I can do obvious."

"And you are so good at it too." JD was notorious for his ill-placed jokes, but Buck appreciated them for what they were meant for. Tension breakers. He needed something to drag his mind away from the fear of what might be happening to his lover only a short distance away from them. They weren't even supposed to be handling stuff like this. Their original target had been a gun running group, another one of Donovan's underground organizations. During a bust they had literally stumbled onto a truck not at all carrying weapons. Not long after they had caught another truck at the state border. Buck knew the importance of their mission, had even been one of the most eager to take it on. But now, facing the possible cost of it, he feverishly wished he'd never heard of George Donovan.

The slow creaking of a door made him look up. JD was putting a lock-pick back into his backpack. Retrieving his gun as well, he slowly pushed the door open. Everything was quiet.

Communicating only by eye contact and hand gestures, they moved together into the house. The front door lead them into a spacious hall, doors lining the walls at each side. JD consulted the small hand-held tracking device again and then nodded at the centerpiece stairway. Following the older agent, he made sure to have the first floor covered. The silence was bothering him, the place seemed deserted. Or worse.

The indicator on the computer showed that they were almost within arms' length of the tracking device Ezra had been wearing. The second floor was as quiet as the first floor, neither of them making any sound at all either. Now JD was in the lead, having arived at a closed door. He met Buck's blue, determined eyes. Then the sound of a door being kicked in splintered the heavy silence.

The hinges were shrieking in protest, the noise hanging in the air for several seconds. The door slammed into the wall, halfway torn of its frame.

The room was empty.

Carefully JD lowered his gun. The afternoon sun spilling in through the windows caught on something on the floor. Picking it up, the broken pieces of a frail silverchain pooled in his palm. Attached to the chain was a small pendant. He let it dangle from two fingers, holding it up for Buck to see.

"He was here, Buck. This damn thing probably kicked back in after being thrown to the floor... Buck?"

The older man was kneeling on the floor, in front of the bed. Touching his fingers to a dark spot on the boards he examined them closely. Only the look in his eyes betrayed the closed-off mine on his face. On Buck's fingers the dark spot became red. JD knew what it was before Buck spoke.

"Blood."

The omnious word seemed to linger between them, then reluctantly melting into the silence.

Letting his mind slip into analyzist mode, JD dealt with the situation the only way he could think of. "It's still fresh, which means that they can't have gotten far. We don't know who the blood belongs to, might as well be Donovan's."

"The bastard better not be dead yet."

"What?" Big, brown eyes blinked in confusion at Buck. "What do you mean?"

"Can't kill him if he's already dead, kid."

The nearly pleasant tone made JD find the cellphone he had tossed into his backpack. Dialling the familiar set of numbers, he soon had Chris on the other end of the line. "What the hell am I supposed to say?" he idly wondered. "All I got is a blood stain, no Ezra and a friend who might be losing it."

Filling in their leader on what had taken place helped him regain his calm. Chris seemed to understand what he was trying to say not using plain words, the blond having known Buck for a long time.

"We'll be there soon, JD," Chris assured him. "Just keep him with you. I don't think he's going to do anything foolish, but just to be sure..." The thrumming sound of an engine entered over the line. "Josiah's getting the car. We'll be there as soon as possible."

Ever since he had touched the blood, a feeling of dread had settled over Buck and refused to let go. It was Ezra's blood. He couldn't explain how he knew, but he did. The fact that his lover had been so close only to be taken away from him again, was driving him insane. Anger was a living thing inside of him, mingled with fear which was clawing restlessly at his heart. He knew the worried looks JD kept sending him although the younger man tried to hide them. Forcefully getting a grip, Buck straightened. The kid worried enough over Ez, he shouldn't have to worry about Buck as well.

It was just that when it came to Ezra every ounce of reason in Buck happily got up and left.

"You ok, Buck?" JD was studying him closely. "Chris and the guys will be here in a little while. He told us to stay put."

Exhaling deeply, Buck rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah. We should probably wait for them."

The dark eyes of JD was still aimed at him, the expression in them told Buck that the other was able to read him a little too well for his own liking.

In the end Buck couldn't take it anymore. "Listen, kid, I'm on top of it, alright? I am not going to run off, not going to break down." A small amount of the usual gleam was back in Buck's eyes. "And I am not going crazy. Ez's gonna have the pleasure of doing that all on his own when he gets back."

JD visibly relaxed. "Knowing him, he'll love every minute of it too."

A gust of wind moved through the room, rustling the broken door a little. The sound of metal grinding against metal was sharp, nearly covering the second noise. It was a similar sound, but this time it was caused by wood creaking.

Spinning around, both men found themselves face to face with a shotgun and Donovan's smiling face. The darkhaired man was standing in the doorway, seemingly the perfect, amiable host except for the gun in his hand.

"I do beg your pardon, gentlemen, for not being here to greet you when you arrived... After all," the gun was raised, aimed steadily at their chests. "I believe I have something that belongs to you."

"Three for the price of one." Donovan was smiling. "Even better. You men must be anxious to see your other little friend again. I do hope though, that the two of you will not disrespect my hospitality in the same way he did..."

"If you have hurt him..." Buck's words were almost too low for JD to hear.

Donovan turned to the taller man. "Oh I am afraid I have... And there is not a thing, my friend, that you can do about it. So how about we lay off the pleasantries and get down to business?"

Placing a restraining hand on Buck's arm, JD stepped in front of him. "Where is he? I want to see Ezra."

Donovan shrugged. "Alright. Might as well have the three of you together, makes it easier to deal with you later on." Stepping out of the doorway, he waved them on with the weapon. "Let's go. Down the hall, second door on the right."

Reluctant to leave the room, where their guns were still laying on the floor, Buck hesitated. The strong push of a barrel in the small of his back nearly made him stumble.

"I believe I instructed you to move, mister. And unless you want to end your days right here, I suggest you follow that instruction."

Spinning around, the barrel meeting with his chest instead, Buck was glaring at the shorter man with pure hatred in his eyes. "You go right ahead and try, you little misfit."

Standing up close Donovan was only an inch or two shorter that Buck. With an evil grin he raised the shot gun. "You sure are a feisty one, aren't you. Just like the other one. Well, I am afraid I can't kill you just yet, but I can do this..." The butt of the gun made harsh contact with the taller man's face, knocking him to his knees. "Which is almost just as satisfying."

Crouching next to them, JD leaned closer to Buck. "You ok?" As soon he got a shaky nod, his fingers tightened on the older man's shoulder. "Good. Never ever do that again."

"Get up!" Donovan's voice was coloured with impatience. "I know the rest of your team is probably on their way here. And I have a little surprise planned for them and for Mr. Travis."

JD helped Buck get to his feet. If not for the start of a bruise on the left side of his face, the brunet seemed ok.

"Travis? What does he have to do with this?"

The hand in his gave his fingers a light squeeze, then Buck let go. He moved almost inperceivably to the side. Catching on, JD took a step forward. "What do you want with the old man?"

"I think it's more a case of what the old man wants with me. He needs to learn not to try and interfere with my businesses."

"And the lesson you plan to give him, involves us, I gather?" Watching Buck move another little step away out of the corner of his eyes, JD leaned against the bannister next to the staircase. "May I ask in what way?"

"You'll get to know soon enough. Move along."

It was now or never. Seeing Donovan raise the weapon towards JD, Buck made his move. Sending the shot gun flying with a well-aimed kick, he caught JD duck away and out of the stunned man's grip.

A lot of people adorned JD with complexes for his heigth. The truth was that he had none. Being small and fast had proved to be a valuable asset in a lot of situations. This time was no exception. Slipping by Donovan, he spotted the shot gun halfway down the stairs, well out of reach for any of them. Leaving it where it was, he hurried into the other room, retrieving his own gun. Throwing Buck his gun, he held his revolver level with Donovan's head.

"Don't move."

The look on the darkhaired man's face sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes were black with rage, his lips pulled up in an inhuman snarl. Slowly studying first him, and then Buck, snarling at the sight of the guns, the large body tensed. Moving quicker than JD would ever have given him credit for, Donovan threw himself after the shot gun. JD's finger was already pulling the trigger back, but he never fired the shot.

Almost in slow motion he watched the heavyset man's feet slip on the first step, sending him crashing down the flight of the stairs. It was all over in the matter of seconds. Reaching the base of the stairs, Donovan was laying like a left-behind ragdoll on the wooden floor. Moving slowly after him, Buck picked up the shot gun on the way. He reached the body first, stepping back after a quick look.

"He's gone."

The sight of a neck bent at an unatural angle, made JD shudder. Without saying anything, he merely nodded, then turned his back to the body on the floor. Buck was already at the top of the stairs. Following at his heels, JD let the older man lead them down the hall, till they met with a door set slightly ajar. The tall, darkhaired man's hand was shaking as he pushed the door open.

This room was held in mostly yellow tones, smaller than the first one. JD remained where he was, watching Buck rush over to the curled-up figure on the floor.

"Ez?" Buck was on his knees, cradling the smaller man in his arms. "Come on, baby... Open your eyes for me." Stroking his fingers over the pale face of his lover, Buck placed a soft kiss to a smooth forehead. "Please, Ez, open your eyes for me?"

All of them were trained in first-aid, Nathan had drilled them all in the basic steps. Sitting down next to Ezra and Buck, JD reached out and placed his hand on the unconscious man's throat.

"He's got a pulse, but it's way too fast. Hold on..." Peeling back the collar of the T-shirt, JD examined the marks around Ezra's neck with a grim expression. "Is he breathing properly, Buck? Looks like someone tried to strangle him by the bruises around his neck."

Tentatively placing his hand on Ezra's chest, Buck was relived to find a steady up and down movement. "Yeah, he's breathing fine, thank God." Gently he brushed his fingers through damp, chestnut hair.

The touch produced a small frown on Ezra's face. His hand lifted and was placed against Buck's chest. But before he could try and push himself away from the arms holding him, Buck had enveloped him in a bonecrushing hug.

"It's ok, sweetheart, it's just me. You're safe now." The relief and love in Buck's voice made JD smile. The smile went wider as he saw Ezra's eyes open and find Buck's blue gaze.

The hand on the larger man's chest was moved to Buck's face, carefully touching him. "Buck?"

"Yeah, it's me. Everything's ok now, babe. We're going home."

Curved eyebrows met over green eyes. "Home?" The small word was nearly inaudible. Then Ezra's eyes closed again, his body going limp against Buck's.

"We have to get him to a hospital." JD jumped to his feet. "Can you carry him?"

Buck gave a snort. "Of course I can! Just lead the way, junior."

Chris was finding himself short three team members. After having received another phonecall from JD, their destination had been switched from Pine Grove to the nearest hospital. Now Buck was still staying with Ezra, and Nathan was in talking to the doc. Vin was pacing with Josiah on his heels. JD was perched on the edge of a chair and Chris was going very slowly insane. He had made JD go over what had happened three times, none of the explanations giving him satisfying answers. There were only two persons that could tell what had really happened and one of them were now on his way to the city morgue. The other person was reason they were sitting in the waiting room of the hospital. And Chris hated not knowing what was going on.

The creaking of a door made them all look up. Nathan was entering the room, together with a tall man with steelrimmed glasses.

"This is Dr. Jacob Corbett," Nathan introduced them. "He's handling Ez's case."

JD was all but standing on the doctor's toes. "How is he? Is he going to be ok?"

The doctor didn't reply at first. "Why don't you come into my office?" he then said. The evasive reply made JD turn to Nathan.

"Nate? What's wrong?"

"Just do what the man says, JD," Nathan urged him on. "We'll explain everything inside." Silently the three others followed them as well, letting the physician close the door behind them.

Watching Dr. Corbett move around to his desk and get seated, Chris fixed a glare on him. "Start talking."

"Well, after having examined Mr. Standish, I can tell you that he is going to be just fine, physically."

"Physically?" four voices echoed back. Only Nathan remained calm, having already been through the explanations.

"Yes. It seems that Mr. Standish is suffering from amnesia. He doesn't remember his name, where he lives, the people close to him, his job..." The doctor leaned back in his chair. "Total loss of memory like this is very, very rare. It can follow trauma to the head, but I didn't fnd any evidence of that here. Which leads us to the other most likely alternative. The mind is trying to defend itself from pain by blocking out what causes the pain."

"But he did remember!" JD piped up. "Back at the cabin in the forest, Ezra said Buck's name before he passed out again, I heard it myself."

Dr. Corbett nodded. "The memories are still there, they are just being blocked from entering the conscious mind. Let me try to explain this a little better. This particular defense mechanism is called repression, and it's quite common, in lesser degrees after a traumatic incident. The mind cannot deal with the emotions at the time being and represses them."

"I've seen cases like this before," Nathan added. "Not to this degree, but I have seen it. There is no telling how long it will last, but most of them regain their memory again in full."

"Most of them." This time it was Vin. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"

The doctor was serious. "Some of the memories may be gone for good. If they pose enough of a threat, they will never be allowed to break free. It all depends on the nature of the memories and the person carrying them. I am sorry that I can't give you more definite answers."

"So what can we do?" Chris had remained silent up until of now. "There must be something we can do to help Ez, right?"

Folding his hands on the top of the desk, Dr. Corbett nodded. "Yes. But you will have to be careful. Since we don't know what happened, we don't know what may trigger Mr. Standish's memory. And given what I have been told about the case he was working on, the memories are probably going to be violent. Something that can seem totally indifferente to you, may be connected to some of the repressed memories. He will also most likely experience nightmares and irregular fears. Most patients with similar symptoms fight the represses memories, because having them come back is scary, and painful. You will not be able to avoid all of those, but exposing him to known, safe surroundings is a good place to start."

Nathan who was leaning against the wall, straightened up. "We do actually know a little bit of what happened to Ez before we got there. Or we have made an educated guess, anyway... Dr. Corbett?"

"Yes. We found a lot of bruising on Mr. Standish's lower body, gathered around the hips and back. While there was no sign of actual penetration, we found enough signs to conclude that he was the victim of an attempted rape."

"What!?" Chris was on his feet in an instant. "Who was it?" Josiah who was seated next to him, sent him a worried look.

Nathan made his way over to the blond man. "Calm down, Chris. We don't know who it was. Probably Donovan or Carder. And with both of them dead, Ezra is the only one who knows for sure. And he isn't telling either."

"Buck will get through to him." JD's voice was certain in its faith in his best friend. "Ezra knew who he was, right? So he does remember Buck. At least his heart does."

Vin placed his hand on JD's. "Yeah. All Ez needs is time, he'll come around. He has to." Placing his hand on top of JD's and Vin's, Chris added his support.

"He'll get through this. We all will." Feeling Nathan's hand on top of his again, he met the other man's dark eyes.

"Both Buck and Ezra are going to be needing us now."

Josiah's large hand completed the pile of connected hands. "And we shall be there for them, brother Nate. Everything is going to be alright. We simply won't allow it to be anything else."

The hospital room was quiet. Which suited Buck fine, the inner turmoil was bad enough without external stimuli to add to it. Sitting in the bed, his back supported by a small mountain of pile, the heavy, warm weight of Ezra in his arms was a great comfort after all. The younger man was out like a light, exhausted physically as well as mentally. He was still wary, but allowed Buck to hold him and had eventually settled down in the larger man's embrace.

Buck had talked to both the doctor and to Nathan, frustration building as neither of them could give him the answers he needed. Pushing the unwanted feelings of frustration and anger away, he hugged Ezra closer to him. At least now he could touch him, even if his lover still was out of reach in a way. Being able to look into those expressive, green eyes and watch the love and usual warmth in them lacking, broke Buck's heart. Pulling himself together, he kept a tight lid on all the troubled feelings. He wouldn't do either of them any good by breaking down. And he had to be strong for Ezra.

"I love you," he murmured, resting his chin against the sleeping man's soft hair. "You know that, don't you?"

Gently stroking the smaller man's back, he felt Ezra move a little, then resting comfortably against him again. "It's going to fine, love. You're back where you belong, and that's all that matters. I have you now and I am never letting go again. Never."

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" The voice made the man in the white coat jump. Turning he found another orderly coming towards him.

"I told you to take those files up to the third floor. Doctor Johnson are waiting!"

"I'll get on it right away," the man promised, blocking the other's view of the computer screen with his back. The younger man gave him a wondering look, then he nodded.

"Alright. Come back down here when you're done. Mrs. Katzopoulis needs to be take to the x-ray ward."

"I will." The blank look on the man's face transformed into a grimace as the orderly left him. "Yeah," he sourly thought. "I'll be back...back to drive your head through this damn counter, asshole. As soon as I've dealt with another little problem first..." Clicking at a few keys on the keyboard, a smile turned the corners of his mouth upwards. "There you are... Room 437."

Gathering the stack of files, Kurtz straightened the coat and pushed some locks of newly bleached hair back. A pair of contact lenses made his eyes a medium shade of brown. Whistling he started walking for the elevators. The double doors slid open at the push of a button. Well inside Kurtz let his hand slip inside of the coat, feeling the reassuring cold metal of the revolver. All he had to do was to tie up some loose ends, then he'd be on his way. Home free.

The End

TBC in Reflections of a Soul