TITLE: O'kome and Ho'neheso

AUTHORS: En and Tess

DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognize as from the Magnificent Seven television series belongs to whoever owns that. Anything you don't belongs to US!

WARNINGS: Medically and scientifically impossible situations.

TYPE: Gen/OW

RATING: PG-13

STATUS: Complete, but with a possible sequel to come.

THE AU TYPE: Ezra goes through some mindbending, and finds one of the other 7 has a secret to keep, as well.

OPEN AU.

DISCLAIMER: Magnificent Seven are all the intellectual property of several big corporations. This is simply a folkloric tribute to the characters created by them. In other words, please don't sue us. We're both poor as churchmice, any way! And I goofed on the Zero post-- there's only 7 parts to this. Nice that it worked out that way, though. LOL

PART ONE:

O'kome and Ho'neheso
By Tess and En

Ezra was at the top of his game. He was in a town called Tres Rios, taking a small vacation from his peacekeeping duties. However, he could not seem to shake the annoying habit of being good. He'd already won back a farm and a dowry from the local cheat...

Who, of course, then squealed as loudly as a stuck hog that the newcomer had cheated HIM. And, unfortunately for Ezra, the local cheat was also the Sheriff's brother-- and the provider of a sizable cut of all normal winnings to same. The lawman was NOT amused by this downturn in his financial fortunes.

Ezra looked up mildly as the lawman approached. "May I help you, sir?" he drawled laconically. Mister Tanner would have been proud.

"Yeah... you can stand up and lay yer weapons out on the table, real slow and easy."

"Might I inquire as to the rationale?" Ezra didn't move.

"Ye're under arrest for fraud and larceny."

"As I have committed neither, I refuse to submit." He drank his shot and raised the glass in salute. "Sir."

The lawman's six-gun appeared in one hand, and the other snaked out to twist in Ezra's jacket collar, hauling him bodily to his feet. The big man shook him, all the while keeping the wicked muzzle of the revolver a scant inch from the smaller man's forehead. "I have it on good authority you did both, and I'm takin' you in or I'm layin' you out. Yer choice."

Ezra looked at the revolver, then at the sheriff. "While your source is sadly mistaken, I believe the court will clear this matter most expeditiously. Perhaps if Judge Orrin Travis is wired...."

"He ain't on this circuit." Yellowed teeth showed in a canine grin. "You'll wait cher turn when Judge Pritchert comes through, end of the month."

His eyes narrowed. "Sir, be advised you are accosting a fellow lawman --" 

Ezra found himself in no time inside the walls of a prison. He looked around, unconsciously smoothing his hand over his right forearm. The gun was gone, of course, along with the slim blade tucked into his boot. He scowled as the order came to strip. "Excuse me?" he gasped incredulously.

"You heard me... think we'd let you wear them peacock feathers in here? Strip, or we'll peel ya ourselves!"

Ezra's eyes narrowed. "You are welcome to try."

The slap of a blackjack into one of the turnkey's toughened palms tended to temper his defiance.

With narrowed eyes and a frown so deep a dimple showed, Ezra slowly stripped.

Rather malodorous, coarse, black and white banded garments were tossed at him, and his own clothes were gathered up greedily. 

"You done good... just keep jumpin' when we yell frog, like that, and you might just make it t' stand in front of Pritchert!"

Over the next few days, things grew bad. It was Ezra's quick tongue that kept getting him in trouble. No matter what they did, they could not still that barb!

It took one inmate exactly seven steps away from the defiant gambler, before his slow brain worked out that he'd been insulted. His body worked considerably faster than his brain-- which meant that Ezra never had a chance to duck away from the blow that caught him across the back of the head.

Ezra went to his knees, gasping as his vision blurred and his ears began to ring. Another blow sent him into darkness. At least, it was a form of escape.

When he woke, it was to find himself again in the warden's office. "Oooh...helll...."

"Welcome back, 31... just in time to hear me pass judgment on you for inciting a disturbance. 5 days in the Hole!" 

"Been in there b'fore," Ezra growled, his normal eruditeness gone under the brutality. "...not afraid of it..."

"Six days, then... get him out of here, he reeks..."

Ezra lasted only three hours in the dark, suffocating silence before he passed out.

In the wagon in Four Corners, Vin Tanner dreamed. He was a wolf, running free and wild across the plains. Suddenly the howl of a coyote in pain shot across to him.

The tracker woke, his ears still ringing with the shrill cry, and shivered as a chilly night breeze wriggled across his bare, sweat-glazed chest. He couldn't explain it, but he knew it as sure as he knew his own name-- Ezra Standish was in danger somewhere... maybe even on the point of dying.

Even though awake, he heard it again! The cry of a wounded coyote --- just at the edge of his hearing --- to the west.

"It's jist a varmint," he whispered to himself, but even so, he pushed aside his blanket and pulled on his clothes. 

And saw a wolf cub sitting on top of the buckskin coat. With a playful growl, the little animal shook the worn leather, and then bounded out of the back of the wagon with it in tow.

As Vin gave chase, he saw the tiny beast heading due west -- toward the coyote's howl. It dropped the leather and looked up with eerie blue eyes at Vin --- as if asking 'you coming?"

"Yeah... lemme get m' horse," he grunted. 

The wolf pup gave a satisfied little yelp, and laid down on the purloined coat to wait.

Chris jogged up. "Where you off to?" he asked casually.

"Headin' out that way. Got a feelin' Ezra's in trouble agin."

"A feelin', huh?" Chris asked. He studied Vin's face for a moment, then began to saddle his horse.

"Yeah, a feelin', and a dream... and that pup over there..." Larabee was probably the only person on earth Tanner would be that open, about the things of the spirit world. 

"Pup?" Chris looked. "All I see is your coat sprawled on the street."

Vin glanced that way again. The pup leaped to his feet and made a small excited circle with a little yip, then dragged the coat west a few more feet. 

Chris's eyes widened. "Holy SHIT, how'd it move by itself?"

"The pup... All right, y' little imp, I get the message. I'm goin'. Now, gimme back my coat." 

Vin took a few long strides towards the retreating garment.

The pup let it go and danced in the circle again and again, coming smack against JD's leg with a sharp yelp. It plopped onto its little rear, shaking its head. 

JD never felt it, never broke stride. "We goin' for a ride?" he asked eagerly.

"Yeah... " Larabee dropped his leg over his saddle, and gathered Midnight's reins. "Follow him," he gestured towards Peso's diminishing rump, as Vin followed the sound of another howl of pain, 
and the pup danced just ahead of the wicked black's fore-hooves.

Buck joined them just outside of town. Nathan and Josiah would have, but Mister Carruthers was dying and had requested a priest -- even a defrocked one -- and Mabel was having her baby.

Just over the first rise, the pup darted away, and the hair-raising wail of a coyote in anguish sounded closer. From behind the scant cover of a sagebrush, a lean, dark form limped, and turned to face the on coming riders. The early morning sun shone full in the coyote's face, and seemed to make its eyes flare with an instant of green fire. It lifted its head again, and let out that unearthly wail. 

"Damn thing must be rabid!" Buck grunted, and reached for the rifle in his saddle scabbard.

The coyote turned to him --- and they all saw it. It was too skinny, but it was clear-eyed. The eyes shone green -- too green--- Human emerald green eyes looking out from the coyote's face.

Buck cocked his rifle and fired, aiming straight between the unholy eyes. The sound was deafening in the still morning air. 

"NO!" Vin screamed-- but the shot only raised dirt in front of the animal's forepaws. 

With a grin that was almost as human as its eyes, the animal danced backwards, threw back its head, and released another agonized wavering wail.

Chris grabbed the rifle and forced it down. "What are you DOING?"

"That thing ain't right! It's rabid-- or possessed-- or something!"

"Vin says no --- so NO!" 

The coyote limped away, then turned and wailed, then limped further away. West. Always heading west. With a last glare at Buck, Vin spurred Peso in pursuit. Even though the coyote limped heavily, its tongue lolling with thirst, it always managed to stay three horse-lengths ahead, even when Peso was well into his even, ground-eating canter.

It topped a rise, let out a long, mournful howl --- looked over the rise -- and vanished before their eyes.

"SHIT!!" JD blurted, yanking his horse to a sliding halt. 

"Told y' it wasn't right," Buck muttered.

Chris shuddered as he topped the rise. "A prison," he whispered, bad memories of his unlawful imprisonment coming to the fore.

JD pointed. "Look!" 

The coyote and a wolfcub sat on top of a coffin-like box. The coyote howled and keeled over and the wolfcub nudged it.

"Ezra's in there... and he's almost dead," Vin stated with cold conviction.

JD looked at him. Buck just stared. Chris spurred his horse onward, trusting Vin completely. "Any ideas on breakin' _into_ a prison?" he asked, almost inaudibly. 

That, however, was taken care of for them, almost as soon as the words left Chris' mouth. A huge crow swooped over his head, and snatched the matches from his shirt pocket. "Hey!" he yelped, ducking instinctively, but the bird was long past, trailing matches from the box as it went. 

The larcenous bird lit somewhere inside the compound. In a few moments, smoke started rising from the guard shack. The men poured out, and as they did, every horse in the corral suddenly squealed at once, and rushed their pen's gate, crashing through it and then stampeding on to burst through the fence on the far side of the enclosure.

"That answers that," Buck chuckled as they rode in.

"Wish Josiah was here to see all this-- and I wasn't," JD admitted, strung tight as a banjo string, every nerve alert for attack-- or more weirdness.

The box was sealed tight. The wolf pup with the blue eyes whined at Vin as he approached. Its little paw scratched at the weathered wood. 

The prostrate coyote lifted its head, human eyes half closed. Feebly, it drew back its lip-- one fang gleamed, gilded. With a weakened sigh, it dropped its head back onto the boards, and closed its eyes.

Chris and Vin both pried a board off, then another. Ezra tumbled out, his face covered with a reddened beard, his eyes half closed. He made no sound.

"Ezra?" Vin called softly, touching his throat. "He's alive-- just barely..."

Ezra flinched, moaning from the touch.

"Let's get him out of here." 

Chris lifted the smaller man easily. "Aw damn... he's nothing but bones..."

~7~

Back in Four Corners, Vin and Chris bathed and shaved Ezra, who remained nearly unresponsive. All the way in, they'd kept trickling water into him, as fast as they could without strangling him. 

Nathan kept it up, with clear broth, but the expression on his face told the others better than words, that the healer was far from certain it would be enough.

After two days, Ezra began to curl into a fetal position, hands over his ears and his eyes tightly shut. Nathan was frustrated and bewildered. The others were simply worried sick. None of them voiced it, but all of them wondered if the time in the broiling box had stolen Ezra's mind.

PART 3:

Then came the day when Nathan went into his clinic to check on his patient -- "CHRIS! VIN!" he rattled down the stairs at breakneck speed. "He's gone!"

Only Vin saw the coyote laying on the balcony outside Ezra's room over the saloon, grinning at them all, the gilded fang catching the light. The coyote shook its head and sighed. 

"I know where he is," Vin muttered. He headed into the Saloon, and went straight to the stairs in the back. 

All the shades were drawn. The only light came from the door. From the bed came a thick Southern growl. "Close the damn door."

Vin obeyed, and went closer to the bed. "Ez? You ok?"

"I'm rapidly losing touch with reality, but other than that, I'm right as rain." 

"What d'ya think you're goin' crazy?" Vin crouched by the bed, his voice instinctively low. 

"Everything's too damn bright...too damn loud....my clothes hurt....I can't eat...."

"Y' gotta eat, Ez... you're wastin' away!"

"Everything tastes rancid....." He rolled his head from side to side on the pillow. "I don't know what's wrong with me..... Nathan can't figure it out...so I just left."

"T' do what, lay here nekkid in the dark till you starve t'death? Come on Ez, this ain't like you. And the Spirits is gonna be real pissed off, after all they did t'get you free!"

"Spirits......." that caught his interest. He turned to face Vin and in the darkness, his eyes seemed to glow --- the pupils were almost completely blown. "Vin, you mean to tell me..... you can see them too?"

"Yeah... din't reckon you ever did, though, bein's how you always said you weren't sure about God and all..."

"I......." he turned his head again, frowning at the coyote that had just materialized, lying curled against his side, its head on his bare stomach. He froze. "Mr. Tanner, do you also see... a coyote....?"

"Yeah... danged thing led us to you-- got your eyes-- even your gold tooth. Think it's your spiritwalker..."

"What's a spiritwalker?" Ezra asked, as a hand slowly, shakily, came up to stroke the sleek head.

"Hard to describe... he ain't you, but he is, in a way. He's like... well... your guide. Guardian angel, mebbe..."

Ezra sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I wish I knew some way to simply... mute... every sensation back to the level I experienced before....."

"Wish I did, too."

"It feels...." Ezra wasn't even aware that he'd laid his hand over Vin's, for grounding. "....like everything is magnified beyond bearing. This room looks bright as the street at noon!"

"Ez, it's s'dark, I can barely make you out!"

"I can see you perfectly." 

Vin's attention was caught by the wolf pup --- who was worrying a knob on an extinguished kerosene lamp. "Here, pup! Don't chew on that!" He removed the lamp from the little animal's grasp, then, his fingers played over the wet knob. "Meybe... you could urn down the wick..."

"Turn down the...." Ezra's brow furrowed. "You mean pretend that my eyes are a lamp?"

"Yeah... somethin' like that... " Vin set the lamp down and went back to the bed, the wolf pup scampering around his feet. When he stopped, it grabbed the dangling mule-ear on one of his boots, and worried it, pulling till it was sitting on its haunches growling fiercely. Vin ignored it, to lean over Ezra. "Your pupils is flared wide open... so big your eyes look like black holes..."

Ezra nodded. "So if I mentally put a lamp wick in my head....." His eyes unfocused, "....and turn it down...." 

The pupils slowly contracted before Vin's eyes, until confused green eyes looked around. "Mr. Tanner, if you'd be so kind as to undrape the window."

The tracker moved to the window, and cautiously pulled the heavy quilt aside, that Ezra had put over the opening.

Gold flashed as the gambler smiled. "It worked. It WORKED!" He met Vin's eyes. "Do you suppose it will be as effective for the other senses?"

"It oughta... " Vin's own straight white teeth gleamed. "A wick-knob...try it..."

Ezra did, then he gasped, "You're not shouting anymore...." A few moments later, he was out of bed and sliding on his trousers. "Vin, they're not scratching me anymore!" Excitement made his voice crack.

Tanner had to laugh. "Must be one heck of a relief, for you to tell me about it in words I can understand!"

"It is!" he laughed as well. As he drew on his shirt and waistcoat -- and replaced the derringer rig --- he frowned. "Vin, I believe I'm ---" A loud gurgle from his stomach completed the sentence as he flushed.

"Ravenous, starved, voracious, famished?" Vin rattled off, with an excellent deep south drawl and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Ezra laughed. "You forgot HUNGRY!"

"Oh yeah, how'd I fergit that 'un? Come on, I'll even buy."

As they got to the door, a WHUF! caught their attention. They saw the pup and coyote tussling
playfully on the bed.

"Don't get any ideas, Mr. Tanner-- I have neither the strength nor the desire to engage in a
wrestling match at the moment."

"I think they're just celebratin', Ez."

Ezra cast a glance back at the tumbling canines, and grinned. "Now that is a suggestion I will
undertake."

Vin grinned, "C'mon, partner, I'll buy."

"My hearing is excellent, Mr. Tanner, I heard your offer the first time!" Ezra chuckled, and settled his hat upon his head.

As they ate breakfast, Ezra's head raised and tilted slightly. "Our compatriots have returned," he said with a grin.

Vin lifted his head, and listened. "How can you tell?"

"I can hear the horses.....Healer's got a distinctive blow..... Juliet's gait is lighter...."

"Yeah, yeah that's right, but how you can hear em over all this clatter I ain't got a clue."

"I turned up the wick a bit," Ezra said, taking a sip.

"Sounds lik y're gonna be teachin' me a thing or three 'bout trackin', now."

"Perhaps we can teach each other."

"Most likely... I'll go let 'em know y're found and alive." Vin pushed his chair back, and sauntered out the door.

"Thank you, Mi...Vin."

"Y're welcome-- O'kome."

Ezra frowned. "What's that.....? Oh." Suddenly he flushed. He'd heard Vin's whispered translation.

The tracker touched his hat-brim in a casual salute, and stepped outside.

"Nothing," Nathan panted. "Can't find him anywhere!"

"He's in there, puttin' away enough breakfast to sicken all of us twice."

"WHAT?" Nathan gasped, hauling himself into the saloon.

"Good morning, Nathan! Care for something to break your fast?"

"You scared us half to death, you red-coated hare-brained grifter!"

"I assure you, Nathan, your concern was not surpassed by my own. I was certain I was not long for this vale of trials, myself, until this very morning."

"Where WERE you?"

"Cloistered in my room."

"You seem fine! Day before, you were on death's door, and now you're fine! I don't understand this!"

"I scarcely know how to explain it myself, without sounding like a complete lunatic."

"This whole situation is on the edge of lunacy."

"I agree completely..." Ezra all but polished his plate, and sat back, cradling his cup of coffee in his hands.

Nathan gaped. "Coffee.....your usual? Bourbon laced?"

"Any other sort is scarcely worth the effort of consumption, in my estimation," he smiled, and took a sip.

"At least SOMETHING is normal here." Nathan scowled at him.

"How much did you eat?" Nathan asked, taking Ezra's wrist.

"Enough to make up for my previous fast," he demurred.

"Enough t'make you sick," Nathan grumped.

"I assure you, Nathan, my digestive system is handling the intake without complaint."

"I'll be the judge o'that."

"I quail to consider what I must do to convince you..."

"Let me examine ya."

"Fine. Fine! But not here, surely!"

An exasperated roll of ebony eyes. "No, in the clinic."

With a put-upon sigh, Ezra rose and after settling his bill, followed Nathan out to the clinic.

Once inside, a strange soft rhythmic thumping began to distract Ezra. "What _is_ that noise?" he finally frowned, turning his head to try to locate it.

"What noise?" Nathan asked, coming closer. Ezra saw a vein in his neck jump in perfect time to the thump.

"Oh... never mind..." Once again, his mental image of lamp wicks got adjusted, till the heartbeat faded to silence.

"Ezra, I swear, you're acting very strange today," Nathan sighed.

"Yes, I'm sure I am."

"Got an explanation for me?"

"As best I can explain it," Ezra sighed, "Is an extraordinary sensory acuteness has been granted me-- an acuteness that often is to the point of pain."

To his surprise, Nathan just nodded. "You was in that box. I seen this before."

"Exactly _what_ have you seen before?" Ezra tilted his head warily, instinctively afraid to divulge the full extent of his transformation.

"Men would come out of a box where there was no light, no sound.... they'd complain the sky was too bright, colors were too intense... claim they could hear heartbeats and things like that....sometimes they'd pull all their clothes off, said they was burning them......" He shrugged.

"Did these... bizarre effects... disappear in time?"

"For some. Others eventually killed themselves or committed 'suicide by overseer'."

Ezra winced. "Dreadful prospect to consider. Not the sort of odds I generally favor."

"The ones who lived, the effects got tamed." He shrugged. "They had someone by their side nearly all the time -- touchin' em, talkin' soft to 'em....sometimes they'd turn into a statue-like, and their partner'd talk an' touch an' they'd be normal again in no time."

"I fear I have no such devoted shepherd," he admitted softly, fear flickering in the depth of his eyes. "But so far, I seem to have found a way of... damping... the effects to a bearable level. Most of the time."

"I'd say you'll find one," Nathan said, washing his hands. "It'll be one of the things that keeps ya sane."

"I certainly hope so... madness or self-destruction hold no allure for me."

As he was on the way out, Ezra paused, and glanced back over his shoulder, "Thank you, Nathan, for your devoted care to me."

"Get outta here...this clinic's for sick people."

"Yes suh, Suh!" Ezra laughed, and clattered down the stairs briskly. His path took him straight to Vin's wagon. Knocking was out of the question, so he scratched on the flap.

"Yeah?" Vin stuck his head out.

Taking a seat on the on the tailgate of the wagon, Ezra quietly announced, "Nathan has seen cases like mine before."

"He has? Huh... what he tell y' about 'em?"

"That either they have a -- partner -- or they go insane and die."

"Sounds like you're gonna be just fine, then..."

An elegant eyebrow lifted skeptically. "Pray tell how you come to that conclusion, seeing as I have no such devoted shepherd."

"You'll do fine, Ez-- cause you're already crazy as a jackrabbit in March." Vin's teeth gleamed.

Ezra glared at him. "I'm serious, Vin. I have no desire to die in agony."

"Ah hell, Ezra, for somebody with as much booklearnin' as you carry around, you sure can be stupid."

"Oh?"

"O'kome and Ho'neheso-- we'll run together, get you through this."

Ezra lowered his head, then blinked. "This is for life, Vin. I'm going to be this way....forever."

"Yeah, well, I don't see my name or my guide changin' anytime in my life, so we'll do fine."

"Thank you, Vin..." Ezra softly replied, then, looked puzzled. "Your name?"

"Ho'neheso... means 'Young Wolf,'" Vin nodded, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Ho'neheso... that certainly explains the wolf cub apparition!" Ezra's gold tooth gleamed for an instant, before faint anxiety reinstated itself. "Vin, Nathan spoke of 'statue-like' states. A few words, a touch....and they end." 

"I'll be watchin' over you, Ez... In one form or another."

"Thank you, Vin...I...." He lowered his head again, choked up. Something cold and wet nudged his hand.


When he looked up, it was to realize that Vin no longer stood before him... and the nose didn't belong to either ethereal pup, or spectral coyote-- but a large, buff colored he-wolf, in the full flower of his prime. 

The animal looked up at him with Vin's eyes, and his tongue lolled merrily. "...in one form or another..." echoed in Ezra's mind.


The gambler gasped. He went to his knees and ran his hands through the wolf's pelt. Opening up the wickdials he imprinted its scent, its texture, everything he could upon his senses, into his mind. Then, slowly, he turned everything down to normal.

When he rose, Vin rose with him-- the transformation so fast, that Ezra's eyes only registered an odd blurring of wolf into man. Ezra closed his eyes and drew another deep breath, the smile spreading wide. "You've the same scent!" he whispered in reverent awe.

"Do I?" Vin grinned delightedly. "Never knew that... and Ezra... thanks for not shootin' me or somethin'."

"Why would I attempt to do you harm? You're still Vin Tanner, obviously."

"Wish ever'body thought that way. Had my best friend, 'fore the war, try to shoot me with a silver bullet. He got me, all right, but when I didn't vanish in a puff o' smoke or somethin', he run off and left me layin' on the ground."

"How did you extricate yourself from that mortal situation?" Ezra asked, appalled yet fascinated.

"Managed to drag myself back to the Doc's place, 'fore I bled out, but it was a near thing... Doc jist knew I's shot, o'course, not why."

"The bullet...." Suddenly Ezra's pupils widened slightly and he reached out to reverently touch the bulge of the small medicine bag Vin always wore around his neck. "It's in here."

"Yeah... kept it as a reminder to never trust nobody again with all of me."

"And yet, now you have...."

A slight dip of the brown head was the only answer. 

"Thank you for trusting me."

"Figger we're in pretty much the same fix-- both of us can do things we don' much wanna do-- stuff that can get us killed by folks that tend t' pull a trigger when somethin' spooks em."

Ezra nodded and held out his hand.

Vin took it, and pulled him close into a brief, rough hug.

Ezra returned it, then broke it, smiling. "I suspect EVERY deck will now be a marked deck to me!"

"Yeah, but you'll do the honorable thing and not use that against your pigeons...uh... opponents, will ya?" Vin grinned.

"Only when I must," Ezra conceded. "After all, I cannot allow the tides of fortune to turn in a direction deleterious to my accustomed manner of living!

"I reckon not, O'kome! " Vin laughed, and clapped a hand against Ezra's shoulder. "I reckon not!"

The End