Ezra woke up in an empty bed, but was smiling anyway even before he fully awoke. That had been an amazing night. Leo and Holly were incredible. And they had spent a good portion of the night just making Ezra feel good. He was going to get spoiled if they kept that up.

He stretched luxuriously, feeling a little sore and a little achy from the arches of his feet to the curve of his neck. But it was a good kind of ache, a remnant of a fantastic night.

He curled around a pillow on a cooler side of the bed and closed his eyes again, too comfortable and contented to get up. Unfortunately, his bladder forced him to rather quickly. After relieving himself, he took a quick shower, washing the sweat that he hadn’t minded last night but was now getting a bit rank, and then pulled on the first clean bottoms he could find- loose sweatpants shoved into one of Leo’s drawers. He had to roll the waistband over itself several times to get them to not pool around his feet and drag on the floor- he had no idea how Leo managed.

He traipsed downstairs and finally into the kitchen. He didn’t hear any sounds at all, so he assumed that once again he was alone. He made breakfast for himself and settled down to eat it in front of the television, propping his legs up. He managed to get through forty five minutes of television before he got bored and started pacing the house, finally exploring it a little bit. He hadn’t been upstairs until yesterday and he had stuck mostly to the living room, kitchen, guestroom and the hallways between. So he took the opportunity to wander around, peaking into doors and poking around, being careful not to disturb anything. The house was just as big inside as it was outside.

Yesterday, he had gotten the impression that most of upstairs were bedrooms. He knew from entering the wrong room that the hallway with the guestroom was pretty much all guestrooms, but that left the whole rest of the house that he didn’t know anything about.

He found a library almost immediately, stuffed full and overflowing with books. It was bigger than the living room and the book shelves were packed so close together that he could probably edge through them, but he couldn’t imagine how Malachi would be able to do so. He lingered long enough to find the book Dimitri had been reading in his room previously. He guessed this room was mostly Dimitri’s- the dark fae seemed to go through books fast. Plus, he could see at least three of the book shelves were dedicated to art history books.

He found a coat closet- once again, overflowing. He was beginning to think that was a theme here. Seven men accrued a lot of stuff, he guessed.

He found a formal parlor, right off of the living room. He didn’t know how he had never noticed it before. Three offices were around the corner of that. One had mostly papers and a staggering pile of books on the desk- obviously Dimitri’s. Another was strewn with clothes of all sorts, papers, and notebooks. He couldn’t imagine whose this was. Shared maybe? The last was the neatest, paper sticking out of a file cabinet. The only sprawl was an assortment of sex toys strewn over the desk. Ezra grinned. Had to be Rylan’s. Awesome.

He shut the door and opened the last door on that hallway- it was concrete, heavier than the rest and as soon as it opened even a little, loud music poured into the quiet house. Ezra started and dropped it. It thudded back into place, cutting off the bass heavy music.

But now he was curious, and expecting the noise, so he opened it again and stepped inside. It was the basement, the door opening right onto stairs. He took them, but stopped suddenly half way down, eyes widening. Oh god. This was the gym. Malachi’s gym.

The man was stripped down to a loose pair of basketball shorts that hung low on his hips and his hair was bound tightly up in a bun. He was hitting a punching bag. He had obviously been at it awhile, slick and shiny with sweat, chest moving up and down rapidly as he tried to get enough oxygen to his bulging muscles.

“Holy biceps, batman,” Ezra muttered and flopped to the ground to sit on the top step and watch. He felt a little weird and a lot creepy, but mostly turned on and amazed and he couldn’t seem to get his legs to work either way so he stayed where he was.

Eventually, Malachi seemed to wind down and moved from the punching bag to stretches and what may have been yoga or Pilates or something. Ezra wasn’t an expert. It was just as yummy although in a slightly different way.

Malachi didn’t notice him until he flipped the music off and turned towards the stairs, still stretching one arm across his broad chest. He stopped short and blinked up at Ezra. “What are you doing here?”

Ezra flushed. “Uh… Being a creeper?” he finally offered.

Malachi grinned, but it looked a little weirded out, so Ezra hastened to explain himself. “I was just looking around because I haven’t seen most of the house yet and I opened this door and there you were and I’m, uh, really curious about MMA fighting?”

“Uh huh,” Malachi said, one eyebrow shooting up. “I would believe you if that didn’t sound like a question.”

“Uh, well, you see, I’m super- you are really attractive,” Ezra said, interrupting himself when Malachi stretched his arms up above his head and arched his back.

Malachi’s motions paused and he stood normally again, smiling sheepishly. “Thank you?” he offered tentatively.

Ezra nodded. “Definitely the proper response to compliments. And I would have believed you if that didn’t sound like a question,” he parroted. “Try sounding more assertive next time. Anyhoo,” he muttered, rising, still babbling. “Sorry for being a creeper, I’ll just continue my tour.” He quickly turned around and fled the room, going back to hide in the guestroom rather than actually continue his tour and running into Malachi. That had been super creepy and awkward of him.

He buried his face in the pillow and groaned. Fucking Malachi. He had no control of his hormones around the guy. He bet if they got stuck in an elevator together he would just hump the man’s leg like a Chihuahua.

He sighed and rolled upright. He needed to find something to do with his time. He was feeling fine these days and the downtime was killing him. He grabbed his bag and stuck his head out the door. He couldn’t hear anyone- Malachi- so he dared to step out and went over to what he assumed was the shared office. He didn’t think they would mind if he used the computer in there and maybe the printer. The desktop wasn’t password protected and he was able to get on it and start surfing the web, looking for nearby jobs.

That’s how Holly found him several hours later- hunched over a computer, frowning at the job listings in the area that he was qualified for. They were few and far between.

Holly kissed his cheek. “You know you really don’t need a job.”

Ezra scowled at him and Holly shrugged. “Just saying. Fine. I bet Leo could get you a job at Sin.”

Ezra’s scowl deepened.

“What? It’s a job!” Holly exclaimed. “And as much as I tease Leo, the rules are super strict there. Touching is a no-no and while it does happen it is also grounds for being thrown out if the waiter reports it.”

Ezra sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “If I can’t find anything else. And I mean anything.” Ezra might not know all of Sin’s visitors, but he recognized enough that he was pretty sure putting him in very little and throwing him to the masses would be bad. He hated jobs as a waiter for that very reason. He had once managed to get a job at a nice restaurant and actually had to quit that one because his ass kept getting grabbed and patrons kept hitting on him and he kept getting offers for a quick tumble in the bathroom and some didn’t like being turned down.

Holly snorted. “It really isn’t that bad. Leo doesn’t get bothered that much.”

Ezra hunched his shoulders. “Leo was never the town whore either,” he pointed out. “Limited contact or jobs where I’m out of reach are best,” he said moodily.

Holly snorted. “Ezra, you know by this point that I think you’re hot, right?”

“I’ve gotten that impression,” Ezra said, leaning back into the curve of Holly’s arm and smiling at him.
Holly grinned back. “Well, town whore or not- by the way, not, just FYI. You haven’t slept with anyone for money, I hope, and you haven’t slept with the whole town- people aren’t just going to molest you. You aren’t that crazy attractive.”

Ezra grinned. “Thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a guy.”

“I’m charming, I know.”

“Look, I’ve had waiter jobs before. They usually get pretty bad. I do well in coffee shops and cafes, places where it’s crowded and light inside and small. But actual restaurants? Its dark and the tables are spread out. Not everyone can see and hear everyone else. They get bad pretty fast. Like cornered in the backroom during breaks bad. It was okay when I was sleeping with anyone, but most of these invitations started with me saying no and meaning it.”

Holly tensed. “What?!” he snapped.

Ezra snuggled into Holly’s shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. It was yes before they actually did anything. It’s just… now it wouldn’t be and I don’t think most of them would have stopped,” he finally said. Wow. He would say no and mean it now to pretty much everyone. That was…. Recent. And a little disturbing.

Holly tensed. “No customer contact,” he growled.

Ezra grinned at him. “Really, it’s not bad except in bars and clubs.”

“No customer contact!”

Ezra smiled at him. “If you can find me a job like that, I’d be grateful,” he said softly.

Holly smirked and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Awesome. Hey, do me a favor? I have that stupid meeting in…” He checked the computer’s time. “-less than an hour. Blow me before I have to go?”

Ezra laughed. “Wow, that was romantic and charming.”

“I know right? I am just the cat’s pajamas of romance.”

Ezra grinned. “You totally are.” He got up and pushed Holly down onto the seat he had just vacated and sank between his knees.

--

Holly had just left when Leo barreled through, calling Ezra’s name. He groaned in relief and threw himself over Ezra’s lap. “No one’s home and that stupid fucking meeting su-ucked,” he whined.

Ezra couldn’t stop from giggling. “That seems to be the general consensus.”

“Come watch TV with me?” Leo begged, red eyes huge.

Ezra’s heart melted and he nodded. “’Course.”

Leo grinned happily and pulled him forward, out of the study and to the living room, draping himself over Ezra and holding him tight. He flipped on the TV but didn’t seem to care what was on, burying his face in Ezra’s neck. “I babbled the entire time,” he confessed.
Ezra tensed and Leo was quick to reassure him. “Not about anything important. Just stuff. An endless amount of stuff.”

“Did it go okay?”

Leo nodded quickly. “Yeah. He could barely get a word in edge wise,” he said with a wide smile.

Ezra laughed and ran his hand through Leo’s hair and petted his ears, playing with the baubles hanging off them, touching the sweet earrings that stood for each of his five husbands gently. But there was a new one. He frowned at the teardrop shaped jewel and brushed it with his fingers and Leo went all tense in his arms again.

It was striped: blue, turquoise and black, nestled between the ones for Malachi and Holly.

“What’s this?” he asked quietly, trying to stay calm. That was a stupid question. It was the exact color of the majority of his hair. And this ear was for his husbands. But his permanent ones, right?

Leo looked at him, red eyes enormous in his face. “Don’t leave afterwards,” he said softly. “Please don’t. I love you.”

 

All the blood drained from his face, turning him ashen. Oh god. He adored Leo, sure, and didn’t want him hurt in any way shape or form, but love? It was too soon. But Leo was staring at him, obviously waiting for a reply. “I-“he mumbled, unsure of what to say. “It’s only been three weeks,” he muttered.

When Leo’s eyes filled with tears, Ezra realized a bit belatedly that it had probably not been the right thing to say.

He pulled Leo into his arms quickly, holding on even as Leo tried to wiggle away. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I-I love you,” he muttered, stumbling over the words. They felt heavy and dry and fake in his mouth, like sawdust.

Leo snorted and shoved Ezra off of him, dumping him on the floor in the process. Ezra’s hip collided with the edge of the coffee table but he brushed it off with a wince and scrambled to his feet. “Leo-“

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it!” Leo snapped, standing and shoving his finger in Ezra’s chest. “That’s not something you just say if you don’t mean it!” he snarled.

He turned sharply, slapping Ezra’s hands away. “I would have been okay,” he snapped, throwing the brittle words over his shoulder sharply, like a weapon. “If you had just left it at ‘too soon.’”

“You were going to cry!”

Leo kept walking away.

Ezra groaned and fell down onto the sofa, burying his head in his hands. “Shit,” he hissed.

He stayed in the living room a bit longer before finally retreating to his room and when he once again found nothing to do, to the study, approaching it hesitantly. But Leo was nowhere to be found so he returned to looking for a job. He had just… well, Leo wasn’t going to be happy with him for a while so chances were no one was going to be.

He sighed and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear and tried to concentrate. What seemed like eons later, during which he got nothing done, just fidgeted and clicked buttons and got through half an application before Holly burst into the house, yelling for Ezra, audible even in the office.

Ezra blinked and closed down the window. He stood and was at the office door before Holly found him. His face furrowed, contorted in anger.

“Wh-“ Ezra didn’t manage to get past that first sound before Holly interrupted, yelling. “You tried to kill yourself?” He was screaming, right in Ezra’s face. Heat was roiling off of him, but it wasn’t the burn of last time, just like being on the concrete on a hot summer’s day.

“I-“ Ezra started and then cut himself off with a confused, “What?”

“That fucking nosy bitch had to tell me that you tried to kill yourself! It was in your medical files or whatever! Why the fuck would you try and kill yourself?! And why wouldn’t you tell any of us?!”

Ezra scowled at him suddenly. That’s what Holly was worried about? Granted, the suicide attempt didn’t really count, but Holly didn’t seem to know that. And he was still just fucking worried about knowing everything for the stupid investigation. Nonetheless, his voice came out mostly calm. “I didn’t mention it, because I didn’t think of it, jackass!” He couldn’t quite keep as calm as he wished he could. “It wasn’t-“

“Shit Ezra! You were addicted to drugs, you tried to kill yourself, you let yourself get beaten by your fucking ex-husband… What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Ezra bristled. “Fuck you,” he muttered, shoving past Holly. He stalked back to the bedroom and Holly growled and let him go, throwing up his hands. So, two out of five husbands were angry at him for sure. The rest were sure to follow. So much for getting out of the house today. There was no way that date was still happening.

But apparently it was. Malachi knocked on his door around six and called for him to get ready and that it was a nice restaurant so he should dress accordingly. His voice was very carefully neutral.

Ezra was dreading it before it even started but he decided he needed to man the fuck up and get ready and just go on the stupid date and try to be charming. He dressed carefully, in dark dramatic colors and clingy fabric that would make him look like a china doll. But when he walked out and saw the tense lines of Rylan and Malachi’s faces, he shrunk into himself and wished he had just said he wasn’t feeling well. This didn’t look like it was going to go well.

But he obediently followed them to their car anyway and climbed into the back, the two men sitting in the front. The ride was mostly silent.

Malachi very chivalrously held the door open for him but the smile looked forced.

Ezra took the gesture at face value and murmured thanks. He couldn’t quite gather the resolve needed to smile. The two men flanked him as they walked up the steps to the restaurant, making him feel small and trapped.

The restaurant was modern, all hard reflective surfaces and primary colors where it wasn’t black. Noise bounced and echoed around the large, open room, almost covering up classical music. The well-dressed, sleek host greeted them and seemed to recognize Malachi and Rylan at least, taking them straight to one of the more central tables, already set with three place settings. He kept casting curious glances at Ezra, but didn’t ask.

Ezra almost managed to snag one of the edge chairs, but Malachi caught his wrist and gently pushed him down in the middle one, so he was between Rylan and Malachi who were facing each other.

Ezra sat nervously, perching on the edge of the chair. He stared at the black table, polished to a high shine and wished himself away.

It was silent until the waiter came.

“You tried to kill yourself?” Rylan finally hissed.

“Rylan!” Malachi admonished.

Ezra sighed and fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt. “Look, it was ages ago and I’m sorry I didn’t mention it but I didn’t even think of it,” he muttered, ignoring Malachi. He would have to clear the air sometime and Rylan wouldn’t have a screaming, knock down fight in the middle of the restaurant. “It was… It wasn’t really suicide so much as… well, self-inflicted euthanasia. No one even made me go to therapy for it and it’s not like a slit my wrists or anything so much as just yanked all the fucking tubes out of my arms and-“

Malachi cut him off by grasping his wrist suddenly and squeezing. Ezra winced but quickly covered it up with a smile when the waiter stepped up to the table with their drink orders. He glanced at Malachi’s hand on his wrist and Ezra quickly ducked his head and shifted his hand so he could thread their fingers together and make it a much more romantic gesture.

Malachi’s hand felt nice, warm and calloused, but Ezra couldn’t let himself forget that it was fake for even a moment. He dropped Malachi’s hand as soon as the waiter was gone.

“Euthanasia?” Rylan asked softly, leaning forward, ice blue eyes intent on Ezra.

Ezra shrugged. “I was always sick and spent more time in the hospital than anywhere else. I was eleven, in the hospital because of another attack when I did it. I had just overheard the doctor telling my mom I probably would be bedridden and stuck in the hospital for the rest of my very, very short life.” He scowled. “Of course, the dick was totally wrong and I got out of the hospital again in three months and the attacks got rarer after that.”

“What happened to put you in the hospital that time?”

Ezra shrugged. “Just an attack. It happened a lot when I was a kid.”

“But for three months?”

“I- Yeah.” Malachi was staring at him like that was really bad. Ezra decided not to mention he had already been in the hospital for the better part of a year at that point. That time had been really bad. “Dude, I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals. The attacks aren’t that bad now as long as nothing else is going wrong- I just faint a lot and have, like, the cold or the flu- but they used to be. Three months isn’t- well, wasn’t- that bad.”

The two were still staring at him and Ezra found himself a little irritated at it, not that he wasn’t used to that reaction by now. He had a disease, not a second head. And it wasn’t even that bad nowadays.

“Are you…” Malachi paused as he searched for words. Ezra waited impatiently. “Likely to attempt suicide again?” he finally finished.

Ezra snorted. “I was eleven and thought I was going to die anyway. I was in the hospital sick all the fucking time. If that happens again, I’m not making any promises, but no, I can’t see me trying to off myself in the foreseeable future.”

They were still tense.

“I’ve been getting steadily better since then. It’s probably not going to happen,” he finished, hoping that would be the end of it.

“You keep saying ‘probably’ and ‘if.’”

“Look, it’s a fucking incurable disease and when I was younger, and I was worse, the attacks were painful, not just annoying. And I suffered from those for over a decade before they started getting better.”

Malachi suddenly reached forward and grabbed his hand again, squeezing.
Ezra stared at him for a moment, confused, but it was a nice feeling so he let Malachi hold his hand. “No one really knows why I got better or what could make it worse or what provokes the attacks or anything. So no, I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to spend another decade bedridden, in pain, in some fucking hospital either.”

Malachi’s hand twisted further around his own.

“Holly said…” Rylan pushed a long strand of blonde hair behind his ear. He looked less angry now and more just tense and very carefully neutral. “That you said that you could die before you’re forty. You’re thirty-nine now.”

Ezra flushed. “Uh, I may have over exaggerated.” And how did that even come up? Did these guys tell each other everything?
“But-“

“It could happen potentially, but it’s not exactly likely. I was being overdramatic.”

“You could drop dead at any point.”

“Selicitus isn’t exactly well documented. And it’s different for everyone. Half-breeds sometimes have fatal complications and it’s not always possible to find a reason why. Can we please talk about something else?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Seriously, it’s a depressing subject and all what if’s and there’s nothing I can do about it anyway. It’s not likely to happen.”

“There’s- I mean… There’s no way to predict it or make it less of a possibility or anything?” Malachi’s gray eyes were intense on his face and his thumb was stroking the back of Ezra’s hand in slow, comforting circles.

Ezra scowled at him despite how nice it felt and how good the big man looked. This wasn’t okay. “No, and talking about it is really a buzz kill,” he said pointedly. Who wants to spend nights thinking about their own mortality?

But it was obviously on the two men’s minds. They were subdued and quiet throughout dinner and extra nice to Ezra. By the time dinner was over, Ezra was thoroughly depressed, angry, and frustrated. He huddled into the backseat of the car and stayed silent the entire way home.

He scrambled out of the backseat of the car and was treated to a very decorous kiss on the cheek from Malachi and a less decorous kiss on the lips from Rylan. The man just didn’t do chaste apparently. But Ezra didn’t linger on it too long. This was all the result of pity. Fucking disease. He followed them into the house, but veered off onto one of the hallways silently. That went well. Fuck.

He collapsed on the bed and then climbed back up and went for his backpack. He fumbled out the cigarette he had bummed from the one guy at Rylan’s store and then his old, beat-up lighter. He edged out the room and then out the front door. He looked around and finally settled on going outside the gate. The garden was nice, not exactly manicured but full of flowers and leaves and green plants. He would hate to drop ash or the butt anywhere on any of it. So he went outside the gate and leaned against the brick wall. He ignored the one or two other people on the sidewalk and lit up the cigarette, inhaling deeply.

“I don’t see why you can smoke and I can’t.”

Ezra jumped about a foot and turned rapidly. His neck gave a twinge that meant he was going to being to pay for that for the next few days.

“Rick!”

Rick grinned at him, leaning against the wall. Ezra’s heart gave an uncomfortable pang. God, he was so… Rick was sober, eyes bright and clear, and he was smiling at Ezra. It warmed his face completely; turned him back to the man Ezra had married. Crow’s feet gathered around the corner of his eyes. “E,” Rick said. “You’re looking good.”

“I- Rick,” Ezra repeated, at a loss for words.

Rick just continued to smile at him.

“W- What are you doing here?”

Rick bumped Ezra’s chin up with his hand and kissed him.

Ezra moaned softly and leaned into him.

Rick pulled away, tugging his lower lip gently.
“God,” Ezra muttered. “I missed you,” he whispered. He missed how easy this was, how Rick just took the lead and did what he wanted. All Ezra had to do was go along with it.

Rick grinned at him. “I missed you too.” His hand moved to the back of Ezra’s neck and pulled him against his chest.

Ezra leaned into the touch and rested his head on Rick’s shoulder. His body went boneless and limp as he relaxed for what felt like the first time in days.

“I had an interesting visitor today,” Rick murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Someone from the HRFC.”
Ezra froze and just like that, all of the tranquility he had felt a moment before fled. “Yeah?”

Rick pulled away and stared at him. “You’re staying married to those guys?”

Ezra cringed. “I- well, they’re…”

Rick caught his chin again. “Hey, just tell me what’s going on.”

Ezra opened his mouth to explain, but that wasn’t what came out. “I can’t.”

Rick started. “What?”

“I- R- Rick,” Ezra stuttered. Shit. He had never had this much trouble getting words out before. “We-“

He flinched when Rick’s hand tightened on his chin.

“I- E, I’m sober. What the hell?”

“But for how long?” Ezra snapped, pulling away from Rick. “I can’t keep doing this!”

Rick stepped back, looking shocked. “E-“

“You beat the shit out of me every time you fall off the wagon!”

“It’s the drugs!”

“You’ve nearly killed me! More than once!”

Rick flinched. “Ezra, you can’t-“

“You haven’t been sober longer for a few weeks in years! I know it’s hard but-“ Ezra broke into a sob and he realized belatedly that his face was wet- he was crying.

“God, Rick, I’m scared of you. All the time, not just when you’ve gone out.”

Rick stepped forward and Ezra flinched.

Rick paused. “So that’s it? After twenty-some years?”

Ezra ducked his head. “No. Well,” he amended. “I hope not,” he said softly. “But I can’t… I can’t keep getting beat up every time you fall off the wagon. I need you to be sober for good.”

“This time-“

“You’ll be sober for a few days, a few weeks if you try really hard,” Ezra said bitterly.

Anger flared in Rick’s face. “If you were around-“

“If I was around, you’d just hit me. I was around for years and years and did everything I could think of to help you to stop. It never worked.”

Rick’s jaw tightened in anger. “Seriously?”

Ezra took a step back. His pulse was racing and his palms felt cold and clammy. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. “Rick, don’t.”

Anger flashed through Rick’s eyes. “You don’t think I can do it! You think I’m that weak?! That I’m weak as you were? I may have hit you a few times but I’ve never stolen! I’ve never tried to whore!”
The blood drained from Ezra’s face. He had stolen from his mom twice, his entire addiction, Rick once, when he couldn’t come up with any valid means of getting the money. And the whoring… That had been at the lowest point of his drug addiction, barely a week before he quit cold turkey. And it hadn’t even happened anyway. He had gotten past the negotiating, had gotten the guys pants down, and then had run. It had been stupid and he hadn’t gone through with it and had been so high he hadn’t even been able to feel the tips of his fingers. He had found out that day that he couldn’t sell sex. He just couldn’t. He had been seventeen at that point and hadn’t done anything with anyone besides Rick and didn’t want to. Rick had gotten pissed, but Ezra hadn’t cared because he had gotten the money from the guy before anything had gone down and had been high again. Apparently he looked like an honest whore.

“I was seventeen,” Ezra hissed. “And it didn’t happen anyway.”

Rick snorted. “The point is I’ve never gotten as bad as you were and you still have the nerve to tell me that I’m worse.”

“Rick, I stopped! I was clean before I was legal! Three years I did blaze! Six years I did drugs at all! I haven’t touched anything besides booze and pot since!”

“And nicotine,” Rick murmured, grabbing the forgotten, still burning ember out of Ezra’s hand.

Ezra snorted. “You can smoke cigarettes all you want. That is the one fucking thing I don’t have a problem with you doing. But you get drunk and decide it’s cool to smoke a little crack too and then you can’t fucking stop with the crack and the heroin and the-“

Rick hit him, open handed. It was loud, more than painful, but Ezra’s eyes widened anyway and he stumbled back. “What the fuck?”
Rick stared at him, eyes wide enough that Ezra could see the white all around his eyes. Ezra fell back, startled.

Rick stared at him. “What the hell Ezra?” he said, voice rough. “You’re just going to give up?”
“If you get clean,” Ezra snapped. “I’ll be back with you in seconds. But you have to be clean!”

Rick snarled something incomprehensible at him and his hand, still raised from when he had slapped Ezra, curled into a fist. He hit Ezra again and he saw stars. Another impact against his head and then nothing, just blackness.