Well, Geocities has decided to close down, so--I've decided to upload my older m7 stories here. All the stories are complete of course and most I'll post in parts (one or two daily). I won't upload them all at once or anything so it won't come at anyone like a giant wave of spam! Hope you enjoy them.

He Sees

written in July 2001

Disclaimer: The characters of the Magnificent 7 belong to MGM, Trilogy and Mirisch. No profit is being made off this story.

Unfortunately--I don't even remember where the 'verses' came from!

There's a place in this world for a Gambler
There's a burden that only he can bear
There's a place in this world for a Gambler
And he sees…oh yes he sees…
And he sees…oh yes he sees…

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Ezra watched quietly from his corner of the saloon. The dimly lit interior casting long shadows around him though he knew that the others were aware of his presence. His hand gripped at the small glass in front of him, it's amber liquid tempting him as he swirled it dangerously close to the rim.

"Go away!" The angry shout came from across the room as one figure staggered and pushed at another.

"I'm just trying to help you is all," the other responded with frustration as he reached again for his friend.

"Don't want your help," the first hissed and shoved harder, remarkably coordinated for as much alcohol as he'd consumed.

"Fine then." Buck caught himself before slamming into a nearby table. He glanced up and caught Ezra watching the scene play out. "Maybe I should just punch him like usual." He sagged wearily into a chair near the gambler, his eyes back on Chris.

"Leave him be, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra said softly.

Buck looked at him with surprise. "You want me to just leave him here? It ain't safe!" He shook his head, "for anybody."

"I'll see to him."

"Ezra, you are about the last person he can put up with right now."

Ezra smiled, grimly acknowledging the truth behind Buck's words and ignoring the slight sting that accompanied them. "Trust me, for a change," he replied
calmly.

"You don't understand," Wilmington tried one more time.

"I assure you I do. It's an anniversary, is it not?"

Buck nodded and wiped at his mustache, his eyes filling with moisture suddenly. "Y-yeah it is."

"Then go and seek your own comfort."

At Ezra's tone, Buck's eyes widened. "You're sure?"

"I'm positive, Mr. Wilmington. No harm will come to either of us, now go."

Buck hesitated again for a moment, his eyes roaming from Ezra to Chris before he rose and with a nod, left the building.

Larabee sat, half slumped in his chair, his focus on the empty bottle in front of him. The door banged closed behind Wilmington and Chris glanced at it, then at the bottle before shoving away from the table and staggering a few steps towards the bar. He smiled as his searching fingers wrapped around the neck of a full bottle of whiskey.

"Are you positive you want another bottle?" The look aimed in his direction was almost enough to make Ezra wish he hadn't told Buck to leave.

"What's it to you?" Chris growled, stepping closer. "Thought I told you to leave."

Ezra huffed. "That was Mr. Wilmington and if you can no longer distinguish the difference, you really don't need to imbibe any further."

Chris grimaced and waved him away. "Shut up and go away."

"My apologies but I'm not going anywhere," Ezra intoned calmly.

"Why not? Everybody else cleared out of here," Chris pointed out as he wrenched the cork stopper out of his new bottle. "Might as well join them." He took a long drink and coughed when his reflexes weren't fast enough to swallow as much as he wanted. His eyes watered as he caught his breath.

"Maybe I'm not like everyone else," Ezra said simply.

"That's the truth." Chris' drunken contempt was obvious but Standish ignored the barb as Chris stumbled closer. "I don't want company, sure as hell don't need you so get out," he ordered, his blue-green eyes flashing angrily.

"Pushing everyone away and drowning yourself in drink isn't going to make the pain go away," Ezra voice was soft. He sat perfectly still, save for the movement of his left hand as his thumb and little finger nervously twisted at the gold band on his ring finger.

Chris stood still a moment, his eyes fixed on Ezra before he suddenly burst into a blur of violence. The whiskey bottle crashed against the wall next to them, exploding and sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Ezra barely had time to feel the piece that nicked him just above the eyebrow when the table in front of him went one direction and his glass of bourbon another. Larabee pulled him up by the lapels and pushed him back, knocking the chair over and under him. His legs tangled in the rungs as he struggled to maintain his footing. His hands clutched desperately at Chris' shirt unconsciously mirroring the grip that the gunslinger had on him.

Ezra felt the wall behind him and then Chris pulled him forward slightly before slamming him hard against the rough wooden planks. His head bounced painfully as Chris roared in his face, "What do you know?" and slammed him again. "Answer me damn it! What the hell do you know about how I feel right now?" Larabee hissed demandingly, the liquor on his breath adding to Ezra's sudden nausea.

Standish forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly against the blood that dripped annoyingly around his left eye. He met Chris' harsh gaze without flinching and for once in a long while allowed some of the pain of his own past to show. He waited until he saw the surprise and recognition in Larabee's eyes before stating softly… "Everything."