The Power Of Words
By: Angela B
Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be
Rating: G
Characters: uhhh..Chris, Ezra and Buck
May Challenge: Write a story in which the boys discover the magic in a word or words- for better or for worse.  Now, I don't mean that they have to sit around and have an English discussion about the meaning of a word.  It could be a discussion or a feeling or a realization or a memory or anything.  This challenge is in celebration of the magic of the written or spoken word!

This just wrote itself, so I went with it.

Note #2 Thanks to Twy for her help.

"You can do it!"
The words had been spoken so easily, so readily. He had said them a hundred times before, but this time he really meant them. Or had he? Had he said them because he believed them or because he wanted to give the man down a reason to keep fighting? Chris sat by the side of the white-linen bed like he had so many times before, remembering the images that had led up to him saying those words.

The bust was supposed to go down 1-2-3, but then again hadn't they always. This time when the gunfire broke out, it had surprised both sides of the player. Who knew a rookie could be so dumb, especially one dumb enough to usurp Agent-In-Charge Chris Larabee's authority. The rookie, a new member in the other backup team, didn't think it was going down well and had grown impatient with what he perceived as Chris' lack of indecisiveness to go in or not. So he had. To him the deal was going south and in training school, he was taught one should always think of their man first and the bust second.  "A.T.F, Everyone Freeze!" the shout briefly silenced of everyone seconds before a gunfight like none other broke out.

Ezra had been stunned by the turn of events and had faltered a step with the sudden change in plans. That falter earned him a slug to the side of his throat, nicking the artery. Chris had been equally stunned when he heard the announcement coming through his earpiece. Instantly he was giving the `go' signal and charged into the warehouse seeking out his undercover agent. He spotted Ezra just in time to see the arterial spray of blood and his agent and friend falling backwards onto the ground. All else faded away as he shot his way across the large, open floor screaming Ezra's name. Betting his life, and Ezra's, that his friends had their backs, Chris knelt down in the pool of blood and clamped his hands around Ezra's, forcing more pressure on the bleeding wound. "Hang in there!" he had commanded Ezra, not wanting to admit to seeing the fading in his friend's eyes. "You can do it, Ezra!" he shouted down at the prone man.  "You can do it!" he repeated softer, but forcefully.

Chris flexed his fingers over the lax hand he now held. Sometimes it really worried him about how much his words affected his men. The belief they had in his words. The power they held and wielded. Chris swallowed. He didn't want his words to have that kind of control over other men. What if one day his words turned out to be a lie?

"You can do it!"

That was what Chris had told him and he had believed it.

Ezra lay in the realm of nothingness, floating. He didn't know if he was dreaming or reliving the scene. He had been doing his thing at the warehouse. Doing what he was good at, bringing in the bad guys. He could do it more with ease now because now he had a backup team that he could depend on a hundred percent. That was why he faltered so when the unexpected announcement echoed through the vacated building, the words reverberating off the metal walls. He couldn't fathom who would be calling the shots, or why. Chris knew he had the situation in hand; the leader would never jump the gun. Chris was too well practiced in the game to do something so amateurish. Then the guns had started blazing and he had faltered in his haste to step back away from the crates loaded with weapons. The next few seconds had felt like eternity. The blazing fire that erupted in his neck, the sudden impact his body had with the hard floor, the warm, flowing blood covering the side of his neck and running down inside his shirt collar. He could feel some of it running down his back. He had clamped his hand over the wound automatically. He could hear Chris' calling his name, but had no way of answering back. He had been truly scared. The next instant Chris was there using his own  hands to clamp down on the bleeding, telling him to "Hang on!" Ezra didn't think he had the ability to, it would have been so easy to let go and fade away, but Chris had stared him the eye and calmly said, "You can do it." Chris had said, so it must have been true. Chris never lied. His words were always spoken in truth. So he had held on to life.

"You can do it!"
Buck stared across the friend he guarded with Chris. Staring at his oldest friend, he knew where Chris' mind was, recalling every second, and every nuance of the bust. Chris was wondering what he could have done differently to ascertain a different outcome. Buck could also see the wheels in his leader's mind turning, trying to figure out how such simple words could keep a friend alive.

They had all heard the whispered command in their earpieces. Even above the raucous gunfire and yells. They were the same words each of them had heard throughout their time together since forming this team. They would get wounded, Chris would tell them words of comfort; or ease; or, like in Ezra's case; words of encouragement wrapped in a commandment. And they would listen. Always, they would listen to those words and take them as commandments. Buck knew Chris would never understand why his words were taken as gospel, but the truth was simple. Chris Larabee made you want to stick to those words, obey those words. Simply, because by failing to heed to those words, one failed Chris and as long as they were a team, a family, no one wanted to fail Chris. No one wanted to be the first to make a liar of the blond. So they held to his words, the power of his words. The belief of his words and held on when there was no other reason not to.

The End