Author's Notes:
I had wanted to get this posted before the new episode on Friday, and I almost made it, lol. Managed to finish it very late Thursday night, but it took me a bit longer than Real Life allowed to do edits.
I love the way that Jack and Riley's relationship has grown and matured since she's joined the team, how close the two of them have gotten and the easy affection that they now openly show. And after the events in Packing Peanuts and Fire, I couldn't help but expand on it, plus I'm sucker for a bit of hurt/comfort.
A Great Big Thank You to my beta, RiatheMai, who took this and helped me make it better. Love you, girl.
"Riley—"
"Alright," Riley continued on as if Jack hadn't said a word, reaching over into the first aid kit and grabbing the blunt nose medical scissors. "You know what? You've got enough of these black shirts…"
"Hey—"
"Just gonna cut right up the center. It'll be better that way. Better for you, with…with... Yeah, we'll just cut it." She grabbed the bottom of his shirt in one hand. Her other hand tightened its grip on the pair of scissors, trying to steady herself against the slight tremors that made her shake.
"Ri, hey… Hey, stop, ok? Just stop."
"No. I need to—"
Jack leaned forward with a bitten off groan of pain and curled his fingers around her hand holding the scissors. "What you need to do is ease it on back, alright? Just for a minute. Relax a bit. I'm fine."
"You're not fine, Jack!" Riley snapped, pulling her hand out of his grasp. The sweat that gathered on his brow and the way his right arm hadn't moved, snugged tight against his ribs since they had left the mall, amped everything up, intensified the adrenaline and fear still singing bright through her veins. "He was going to kill you… I told you to stop! I told you… I kept telling you, but you…"
Riley trailed off, turned her head away to the side as far as it would go to avoid looking at Jack; her righteous anger burnt away leaving only cold fear in its wake.
"You're right, I'm not fine," Jack admitted quietly. "As for the rest of that, I'm gonna address all of it, I promise. But first, I need you to ease up. Can you do that for me, baby? Come on... give me this hand."
It wasn't until she felt Jack's other hand on top of her own that she realized that she was still gripping the hem of his shirt, fist so tight she could feel the skin pull tight across her knuckles. He didn't do more than that, didn't try to pry her hand open, or force her. He just kept his hand on hers, warm and there, and slowly her fingers started to loosen.
"That's my girl," he praised softly, uncurling her fingers and holding her hand in his own.
She should have been angry at him for talking to her like that, in that tone as if she were a little child, but it had the opposite effect. It soothed her, made her feel safe, protected.
He lifted her hand and placed her palm flat against the left side of his chest.
"You feel that?"
His breath was shallow, a little too fast, slight hitch every other breath or so, but beneath that she could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady and alive beneath her hand, and she nodded her head and turned to look at him.
"It's gonna take more than just some two-bit wannabe art thief to take me away from you, Riley," Jack said, his thumb swiping away at the few traitorous tears that were running down her cheek. "You're stuck with me for a very long time."
She wanted to make a smart aleck quip, some joke at his expense, but the words wouldn't come. All she could do was nod her head gratefully that they had made it out alive, her hand still firmly over his heart.
"As for the rest of everything else…" Jack continued, "Was he going to kill me? Maybe, eventually, but that was what I was waiting for."
"What?" Riley burst out incredulous. "Have you lost your mind, Jack? You were deliberately trying to piss them off?"
He had the audacity to laugh at her outrage, and she would have hit him if he weren't already hurt. As it was, his injuries made themselves known, and Jack wrapped one arm around his ribs and curled in on himself with a moan.
"Dammit, Jack. Easy. Easy. Just breathe through it, okay? Or…don't breathe so much because that looks like it kinda sucks big time." She'd been trying for levity, but the emotion behind it fell flat as Jack's grunts of pain fill the small space.
Jack snorted at that, breath harsh as he slowly relaxed, though he still stayed curled in on himself.
"That's it. Let me look at the damage, Jack," Riley demanded, "Come on now."
She picked up the shears that she had put down on the seat and reached for him; then she stopped, suddenly not sure where she should start, what she should to do, what she was looking for.
Jack must have sensed her hesitancy because he looked up, understanding shining in his eyes, and he sat up a bit straighter. "Gonna give you the Dr. Jack Dalton crash course in field medicine."
Despite the nerves that fluttered around inside her, that pulled a smile from her. "Thought we all established that you were never a doctor, Jack."
"I believe it was Cage who said that I never went to med school," Jack groused. "Now, Dr. Farvenoogle, he was a brilliant physician, an even more brilliant cover, specialized in exotic diseases… but those are both stories for another day. I have, unfortunately, or fortunately as the case may be, quite the extensive knowledge of field medicine. And to start, little lady, all you have to do is remember my good buddy B.A."
"Uh… B. A?" Riley asked skeptically.
"Oh… do not tell me you don't know who B.A. Baracus is," Jack said with a hint of shock. She shook her head. "The A Team? Mr T? Seriously? My god, the youth of today, what has become of you… a generation lost."
"Jack…"
"Yeah, yeah. So, B.A," Jack began, "In the field, when patching your teammates up, you have to be quick and dirty sometimes. So, B would be for blood, specifically any wound that is bleeding out; you use anything you can find to stop it.
She looked him over before she even realized she was doing it, even though she knew it wasn't necessary. She would have noticed something like that back at the Mall, and if she hadn't, then Mac most certainly would have, but she couldn't help the cursory sweep anyways. Other than sluggishly bleeding small cuts, that's wasn't a concern.
"And you're not," she felt important to include.
"Score one point for Jack," he drawled. "So, A, would be for—"
"Air, breathing. Which you are, breathing, but not like you should be. It's too shallow, a bit too fast," she told him, her words starting to come a bit quicker, the need to do something overwhelming.
"She gets it in one; give the lady a prize," Jack cracked, but then quickly sobered. "Yeah, I am, or not, I suppose. What you're lookin' for is the obvious, of course, no breathing at all. But what you need to really pay attention to is breathing that sounds wet, bubbly, that would be a collapsed lung and that's all kinds of bad news."
"And broken bones, broken ribs?" Riley asked on a shudder because that was where her concerns lay. She knew how many times they had hit him, how many times closed fists had struck his flesh. She worried now, too, about a collapsed lung, about being thirty thousand feet in the air, hours from any medical professionals and a jagged piece of bone piercing one of his lungs.
Jack nodded, both of his hands fisted in his denim covered thighs as he straightened up, and she could see the pain and discomfort etched in the lines of his face. "Got lucky," he said and she had to snort at that because he didn't look lucky from where she was sitting. "Think they're only bruised, maybe a couple of 'em cracked."
"And the burn?" Riley asked.
'Yeah, that's gonna suck," Jack replied. "Grab those med scissors you had and just do your thing; cut up the center of my shirt. No way I'm gonna take it off."
She pivoted her body back toward the first aid kit to grab some supplies, using the moment to collect herself, to not let Jack see just how his admission had affected her.
She dropped the supplies on the bench seat between them—gauze, antiseptic, burn spray, medical tape, ace bandage—anything she could think of that she might need, then turned her attention back to Jack.
"You ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he responded. "Let's do this."
"Alright, here goes."
Riley grabbed the bottom of Jack's shirt, pulling the material slightly out and away from his body as she cut up the center of it.
And what is revealed when it fell open took her breath away.
"Oh, Jack."
His skin is a swirl of angry colors. The worst of the damage was centered all along his left side. She knew that had been done purposefully. Concentrate the attack to one area for maximum damage, make the prisoner break faster. She swallowed thickly as she stared at the damage, equal parts proud and terrified by what the man in front of her could endure against and still stay standing.
The flesh had already darkened to a deep purple, the entire area littered with red streaks where blood vessels have been broken.
"Jesus, Jack," she whispered.
His ribs had taken the brunt of the punishment, the tender flesh swollen and bruised. It spread out from there, the hideous coloring not fading as it feathered up his chest and around his waist, disappeared underneath his shirt where it fell open.
She reached out with her hand and very gently slid the black material to the side, his abused skin warm beneath the pads of her fingers where they brushed against him.
His muscle flinched at just that light touch, and Jack hissed in a sharp breath, the action quickly followed by another as his shirt suddenly encountered resistance and abruptly stopped moving.
"Shit!" Jack latched onto her wrist to stop her movements, his other one wrapping tight around his midsection, and she immediately pulled her hand away amid a flurry of I'm sorry's.
"S'ok," Jack grit out, trying to reassure her even though it was so, so far from being okay. "It's…ah… I think… The material's stuck to the burn."
The burn. Riley closed her eyes for a moment. She knew it was going to be a very long time before she could forget the sound of that cattle prod, the way Jack's body had gone rigid, the smell of his burning flesh.
"Hey. Hey, now, Jack? C'mon, Jack; ease up for me a bit, alright? Try and relax a bit," Riley said softly, and she placed her hand along the side of his neck. His pulse was jack-rabbiting against her palm, breathing too fast, breath hitching on little gasps of air as he fought through the pain. "C'mon, big guy, don't need you passing out on me. Slow it down. C'mon… that's it."
Jack nodded his head a couple of times but didn't move otherwise. Every couple of breaths he would hold for a few moments, until eventually, in small increments, he slowly brought his breathing back under control again.
"I gotta look, Jack," she told him, needlessly, because she knew that he knew that. "Here, lean over a bit, brace yourself on the wall."
Jack simply nodded again and let her move him until his right side was leaning against one of the corner walls and he carefully shifted the arm he had wrapped around his middle.
"Alright," she said, more to herself than to him as she leaned forward a bit to examine the extent of the damage. Riley bit back the curses that wanted to come out; the need to march off the jet right now and tell Cage to take a walk while she makes Enzo Lemaire pay for what he had done was overwhelming.
She didn't dare touch. A hole the size of two silver dollars was singed into Jack's black shirt, the tattered edges of the material stuck into the oozing, blistered flesh beneath.
"That bad, huh," Jack mumbled from where his head was resting on the wall, his eyes slanted sideways as he watched her.
Riley ran one of her hands over her face. It had to be cleaned out, the material stuck to the seared skin removed or they were going to risk infection by the time they made it back to Phoenix. She also knew how much it was going to suck for the both of them. She couldn't do anything to change that for her, but she could make it easier on him.
"Hey… Here, take a couple of these," Riley told him as she handed him a couple of little pills from a bottle of the good stuff she had grabbed.
"Nah uh," Jack shook his head.
"Jack…"
"No. Not, nah uh as in no… Nah uh as in not those," Jack waved vaguely in the direction of the med kit. "There's a silver spray can in that thing somewhere; grab it."
Riley flipped the kit back open, looking through it until she spied a silver can and held it up to him. "You mean this one? With the big yellow smiley face on it?"
"Yeah, that's the one. Smiley was my idea," Jack said with just a hint of his usual tilted smirk.
"What the heck is this stuff?" Riley asked as she turned the can over, and then over again, looking for some kind of directions…or at least a name of some kind.
"I actually have no clue what it is."
"You have no clue," she repeated with a raised eyebrow, "yet you want me to use it on you?"
Well, no… or yes," Jack stuttered with a small shake of his head before explaining. "Mac concocted it, so, no, I have absolutely no clue what's in it—and have learned not to ask such questions—expect that it has about a hundred letters in its name. You know how excited he gets when he goes all science nerd, I usually tune him out right after the, Hey Jack, did you know…. It's for times we need pain relief but didn't—or couldn't—be compromised by those fancy, little white pills in your hand. And, yes, I know we're on our way home, and we're safe, blah, blah, blah, but I don't wanna be knocked out. Besides, we still have to take care of you."
"Yeah, alright," Riley conceded, warmth once again filling her that despite how injured he was, he was still thinking of her. "How do I use this stuff? Just shake and spray?"
"Yeah. Just spray, works instantly to numb the area." Jack straightened himself against the wall a bit more, opening up his side so she could work better.
"Here goes," she warned him as she pressed the plunger cap down. A fine mist sprayed out, and she applied it liberally over the entire burned area. She put the can aside, giving the area she'd just sprayed a moment to ensure it was completely numb before she reached forward and started to slowly move Jack's shirt again.
Riley glanced at Jack as she worked. His eyes were closed, face relaxed as she worked at peeling the material away from the wound.
"What did you mean before, when you said you were waiting for Lemaire to kill you?" Riley asked him quietly, both needing the answer as well as a distraction to what she was doing.
"Suppose that didn't come out quite right," Jack admitted with his eyes still closed. "I can assure you, contrary to what those psych evals may suggest, and those crazy doctors that I'm forced to talk to may insinuate, I'm not an adrenaline-crazed risk taker."
"Well, the crazed part may be arguable," Riley joked, but the rest? No, Jack was precise, careful. He was the guy you wanted at your back when the shit hit the fan. .
"What I meant was, guys like Enzo? It's all about pride and control," he started to explain. He didn't move as she finally finished freeing the last remnants of his shirt, just continued talking.
"You heard him; he controlled the entire network of art thieves. He trained everyone, knew everybody, nothing happened and nobody did anything without him knowing about it. Then I come bumbling in and steal his most prized possession right under his hoity-toity artsy nose. That really pissed him off, and he wanted to know how I did it. Needed to know how I did it so he could keep all that power that he held, so he really wasn't going to do anything until he got those answers from me."
"Yeah, because all this looks like a big load of nothing, Jack," Riley snarked at him. She'd gotten as much of shirt fibers out as she could, the doctors back home would, unfortunately, have to remove the few she couldn't get. She draped a spare cloth over his hip as she picked up the bottle of sterilized water to clean out his wound with. "This may be a bit cold."
She felt a gentle touch on her arm and she looked up into sorrowful, sympathy-filled brown eyes. "I'm sorry you got caught…that you had to see any of that. But this," he gestured to his chest and side, "this is all superficial. Nothing I wasn't trained for. Hell, I got worse while I was in Delta training."
If that was supposed to make her feel better, it really didn't, but she appreciated the gesture.
"Beside, I just had to keep him talking long enough for our secret weapon to arrive," he said with a smile.
"Mac," she answered with a smile of her own.
"Yup. In all the missions, and through all the insanity we've been through, he's never failed me. He's always found me, even a time I didn't want to be found, and I knew he would this time as well. I don't think the word fail is in the kid's impressive vocabulary."
"It's not in yours either, you know," Riley told him. And it wasn't. Jack would go to the ends of the earth to help people in need and wouldn't stop until he accomplished what he needed, consequences be damned.
"As for the rest of your original questions… Why I didn't keep my mouth shut? Why I was tryin' to piss off both Enzo and the Pawn?" Jack reached up and tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. "Because me being my mouthy self kept his attention on me… and away from you, baby. I can endure a lot of things, but had he put his hands on you? Hurt you in any way… All bets would've been off. That would've broken me in a heartbeat. And I'm sorry, I know that is a lot to put on you, but it's the truth. If anything were ever to happen to you…"
"Dammit, Jack." She didn't know if she wanted to hug him or punch him, so she settled for kissing him softly on the cheek, because she felt the exact same way. She knew there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for him. "The feeling is mutual," she whispered brokenly into his ear.
Riley gave his shoulder a quick squeeze then pulled away. "How about we finish getting you patched up, huh?"
She picked up the gauze and the medical tape, and then just as quickly discarded the latter, deciding that she didn't want to adhere the tape to his bruised and swollen skin. She actually didn't want to cover the burn at all, wanted to keep it open to the air, let it drain and dry out a bit, but his ribs needed to be wrapped. She knew that would go a long way to support the area and to help ease his breathing a bit.
She opened the gauze pad and laid it flat in the palm of her hand, then sprayed the large white square with the burn spray.
"Here's what we're gonna do," she tells Jack. "I need you to hold this on your side while I wrap your ribs up for you."
"Yeah, alright," Jack agreed. He took the gauze from her and sucked in a quick breath as he placed it against the burn. She wasn't sure if it was because the spray was cold against his fevered skin, or if because it had stung, but if she had to guess, she figured it was a good combination of the both.
Riley picked up the ace bandage and unwrapped it as she pinned Jack with a pointed look. "No bullshit, Jack, to try and make me not worry because that ship already sailed…"
She let the sentence hang, knew he was well aware of just what she wanted to know… Is anything broken? Do you think you have internal injuries?
"No. I swear, Ri, nothing serious," Jack promised, and she believed him. "Internal injuries, belly wounds… You don't fool with those. And my ribs…lots of deep bruising and probably have at least two that are cracked, maybe three. But none are broken so you don't have to worry. Scouts honor."
"You were never a scout, Jack," Riley challenged, smiling as he held up three fingers in an imitation of the Boy Scout salute.
"Was too, made it all the up to Eagle Scout. Though there may have been an incident involving a small fire and a log cabin, but we don't have to discuss that," he said with a wry grin.
Riley actually could picture Jack as a Boy Scout and she had to shake her head at his remembered antics, because even now Jack couldn't do anything without getting into a little bit of mischief.
"Here, gimme your hand," Jack said suddenly and he reached out and grasped her wrist. He placed it against his ribs before she could ask him what the hell he was doing. "Press down."
Riley flattened her hand out and pressed down very gently as she felt along his side, not quite knowing what the heck she was supposed to be looking for but trying extremely hard not to hurt him any more than the squinted eyes and deep lines that surrounded his eyes suggested he already was. Jack placed his hand over hers and pressed her fingers tighter against him.
"Jack—"
"Feel that?" he asked as he guided her fingertips down the planes of his ribs. "Feels a bit…spongy? Gives a little more than it should?"
Riley nodded her head.
"That's the bruising, bones moving a bit because they're not quite a solid piece anymore. If they were broken, it'd feel all…grindy. Trust me, you'd know, it'd feel awful for both of us. So we're good, alright?"
"Yeah, we're good." She unwound the ace bandage and with Jack's help slowly wrapped it around his midsection, and even after a few seconds of it being on, there was a noticeable difference in his breathing and movements.
"Thanks. Your turn now," Jack told her, and before she could protest he was sliding off the bench seat and kneeling on the floor.
"What the hell, Jack! You could do that just as easy from the seat. C'mon, you're gonna hurt yourself worse."
"Hogwash, I'm fine just where I am. Now grab me those scissors and gimme that gimp knee of yours. You have enough of these black jeans, we're just gonna cut right up the center, it'll be easier that way," he tells her with a wink. "See what I did there?"
"Yeah, ha ha, funny man, I see what you did there."
"I'd ask if you thought anything broken, but considering how far we had to walk, and get in and out of cars to get back here, I think we'd know that already."
"No, nothing feels broken. It's sore as all hell, just twisted I think. Side feels a bit raw, scrapped up."
He gently lifted her right leg and rested it on top of his knee, and it wasn't until he moved it that she registered just how much it's throbbing. How stretched tight her jeans were around knee. Jack took the scissors from her, started at the cuff of her jeans, and began to cut. He stopped about mid-shin, opting instead to just rip the material until her knee was exposed.
"I'm gonna kill the bastard," Jack swore darkly as he looked at her leg, and she didn't needed him to specify exactly who the bastard was.
Her entire knee was already black and blue, swollen to twice it's normal size, the side of her leg, running from just above her knee down to her mid-calf, cut up and bleeding.
"I'm fine, Jack. Really," she tried to assure him. Technically, Lemaire hadn't laid a hand on her, her injuries more the result of the scaffolding being tipped over while they were still tied to it than anything else, but she knew that wasn't going to matter to him.
Jack simply nodded his head. "Tell me where it hurts." His hand hovered over her leg for a moment before he placed his fingers gently along the side of her kneecap, and she flinched instantly. "Sorry, sorry. Suppose that answers that question, now doesn't it?"
He reached up onto the seat and grabbed the supplies that she had just used on him, and then looked at her. "I'm gonna have to clean these cuts out, I'll be as gentle as I can."
He poured some of the sterilized water onto the cuts and she flinched again, this time more from the liquid being cold than anything else.
Riley huffed out a quiet laugh and Jack glanced up momentarily in question.
"What?"
"This reminds me of that time I wrecked my leg on my bike and you patched me up," she said. "You remember that? It was..."
Riley trailed off, the remainder of her words dying out before they even got a chance to pass her lips. They had settled things between them, became closer, stronger. She had forgiven their past and moved on from the anger and the pain that she had once felt.
But still, she didn't want to continue down that particular path of memory lane, risk ruining the moment, or worse yet, all of what she and Jack had gained back since then.
"…a coupla months before I left," Jack said softly, finishing her sentence for her anyway. His gaze stayed on her leg as he said it, continuing to clean away the blood, his touch so soft, so gentle that she could barely feel it. Riley could feel her eyes begin to fill with hot tears as she watched him, watched that one, small detail…the natural, unconscious way he was being so caring and gentle with her. The way he had always been with her, and it was another strike against Elwood, driving home even harder the decision she had already made.
If she was being totally honest with herself, the decision had already been made the moment he first contacted her.
There was a slight tinge of something in his voice… Sadness? Regret? Whatever it had been it tugged at her heart. Beneath Jack's smartass exterior hid a man who felt deeply and loved fiercely, and she couldn't have him thinking that way, questioning his place with her or just how much he meant to her. Not now. Not ever. But especially not with her biological dad back.
"I remember that." Jack answered her question, still not looking at her as he tossed the bloody piece of gauze he had been using aside into the pile that she had started and grabbed the antiseptic spray. "I come home from grocery shopping to find you locked in the bathroom. No matter what I said, you were being your stubborn, strong-willed, independent self and wouldn't let me in, but I could hear the pain in every one of the "go away, Jack" you uttered. I was just about to break the door in when you finally opened it..." Jack paused on a long drawn in breath of air, looked up at her quickly with pained filled eyes and then dropped his head back down, "and I see you sprawled on the floor, leg all bloody, cuts and scratches all over your arms and face…You know you scared the hell outta me that day, kiddo. I thought…."
It was Jack turn now to trail off, to not go down that branch of memory lane, and knowing now what his actual job had been at the time, the dangers that he had faced and the enemies that he had made along the way, he didn't need to finish the thought for her to realize all the horrible scenarios that must have raced through his mind that day, and so many other days when her younger self had done crazy stuff.
"This might sting a little," he said instead as he cleared his throat of the emotion that had made his words shake. He pulled the cap off the antiseptic, giving the can a couple of quick shakes as he placed one of his hands above her knee as an anchor. The spray did sting, and even though she had been prepared for it, she still hissed, flinched against the cold and slight burn against her abraded skin.
"Easy, sweetie, easy…It'll pass in a second," Jack soothed as he leaned over, pursed his lips and blew cool air over the area to take the sting out, the same way he had done for her every time she had been hurt as a little girl.
"I'm sorry I put you through all that," Riley told him, sincerity lacing her tone. Because she was. Despite how messed up or dysfunctional her life had been before Jack had entered it, that was no excuse and she was truly sorry for the hell she had put him through when she was younger. For fighting him every step of the way when had he had bent over backwards to try and reach her.
"Nah, you were just a kid, Rile's. It's all water under the bridge now," he reassured her, giving her a wink. He grabbed a piece of gauze and dabbed at the excess spray that had run down either side of her leg. ""Sides, it's partly my own doing, the way we used to butt heads all the time. I can be a tad bit overprotective at times."
Riley barked out a laugh, quickly covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the noise so not to disturb the others if they had already fallen asleep.
"Just a tad?" she said incredulous. "Saying you're just a tad bit overprotective is like saying Mac is just a tad bit smart, Jack."
"Touché." Jack simply smirked and shrugged his shoulder, neither sorry, nor apologizing for the behavior. It might drive her crazy at times—most of the time—but she didn't want him to change, to be any other way.
"Besides," he said suddenly as he grabbed the ice pack from the med-kit, gave it a snap, and placed it on darkening blue and purple that was her kneecap. "The way I remember it, it wasn't your bike, it was Spider's. And it wasn't a bike, so much as it was a motorcycle. And another thing, what the hell kind of a name is Spider anyways? I mean, seriously, couldn't come up with something a little cooler, less…creepy-bug like?"
"That was just his street name, Jack," Riley said, "his real name was—"
"Ronald Bingingham," Jack easily supplied. "And yeah, I can see why he would've changed it, not gonna get any street cred with that. Nobody's gonna be scared of a guy named Ronald. Unless of course his last name is McDonald, and then yeah... Cuz that dude's always been pretty darn creepy."
Riley's eyes widened in surprise. "Jack… You…? How did you know that? Did you…? You did, didn't you," she said in shocked surprise, though thinking about it, she really shouldn't have been.
"I can assure you, little lady," Jack drawled, "That whatever it is you are trying to accuse me of, I am absolutely, one hundred percent, guilty."
"You used CIA assets to check up on a friend of mine." The words came out slow, disbelief and surprise coloring her tone. It wasn't a question, though, but a statement. Because despite her shock, she had no doubt whatsoever that that was exactly what he had done. Emotion welled in her belly, slipped around her heart, and warmed her soul. She wondered what else he had done in his pursuit to keep her safe, to make sure she was happy.
And she wondered what she'd done to be so damn lucky to have him in her life.
"Damn straight I did. Kid was interested in my sixteen year old little girl; I would've run his name whether he was a biker, a banker, or God himself." Jack admitted unabashedly. "He and I sat down with a couple of cold ones...that was root beer for him, of course, the real deal for yours truly, and we had a nice little chat, we did."
Riley shook her head a bit at the thought of that, could just imagine how it all went down. She knew for certain that despite his extra muscle from wrestling and free-weights, and the additional four inches of height he had on Jack, that it had been Spider who'd spent that meeting wary and on guard.
Jack was at his scariest not when he was in full-on Rambo mode, but when he was calm and quiet; relaxed lethality. That laid back, friendly grin, and lazy Texas drawl may pull you in and put you at ease to open up and talk like you've been friends forever, but that deadly glint in his eyes made it clear as day that he was a man you didn't want to cross.
Not that Spider would have ever treated her badly—beneath the tattoos and the attitude he had been a sweet guy—she would've taken him down a few pegs herself if he had, but the knowledge that Jack had done that for her…
"You know he asked me to the winter formal that year," Riley told him quietly.
"Did he now?" Jack remarked casually. He reached back into the med-kit and pulled out an ace bandage. He lifted her leg gently, and she held one end of the bandage as he wrapped it around her knee, holding the ice in place to help with the pain and to bring the swelling down.
"He brought me flowers, and a corsage, and chocolates," she told him as she watched him work. "Even rented a car, wore a suit. Well, not exactly a suit, but a new leather jacket complete with unripped jeans and a tee-shirt. You wouldn't know anything about that, would ya, Jack?"
"Me? Nope. Don't know what you talking about."
"Uh huh." Riley said, but she didn't miss the small smile that he tried to hide. Jack wrapped the bandage one more time around her knee and then tucked the ends into one of the folds to hold it tight.
"There. We'll keep it wrapped with the ice for a while; try to head off a bit of that swelling."
He didn't move from the crouch he was in on the floor, instead just stared at her for a moment before he grasped one of her hands as his thumb gently stroked back and forth across her knuckles.
"Jack? What is it?"
"Listen, about what I was sayin' before all the crazy started," he said, "I'm sorry. You are—"
"Jack, no," Riley interrupted, "You don't have to apologize. You don't have anything to apologize for, alright. You were just lookin' out for me, the way you always do…the way you always have. Please, don't change that.
"You know, I once told you that you were like a dad to me… And that's not true," Riley said as she turned her hand over in his palm and placed her other hand over the top of them both. She felt him tense, watched the emotion in his eyes shutter and she laced their fingers together and gave his hand a tight squeeze to get his full attention back.
"You're not like a dad to me, Jack. You are my dad." she said with a soft smile. "It takes more than just biology for a man to be a father… And for every single one of the reasons that count, you have been that man for me."
Jack brought his other hand up and placed it on top of their joined hands, her smaller ones cradled between his as he gave them a tight squeeze.
"I love you so much, kiddo," Jack said softly. "There isn't one thing I wouldn't do for you."
"I know that, Jack," Riley said, voice thick with emotion. "And you were right; there is something going on."
Jack nodded his head and gave her hands another quick squeeze. "Alright."
"It's not dangerous," she reassured him quickly, and she watched as the muscles all along his neck and shoulders relax at that admission. "But I need to handle this on my own. You taught me how to be strong, Jack. How to stand on my own two feet and not take crap from anyone… How to stand up for myself and what I wanted. And that's what I need to do now. Do you get that, can you respect that? I need to settle this on my own terms. For myself."
"Yeah," Jack nodded his head. "I can respect that."
She could hear the words under the words, you got this, and I have faith in you, I'm proud of you, and the always and ever present be careful. Those sentiments were always woven into each one of his rambling, drawn-out speeches that he had given her over the years. They had driven her crazy. They still did. She may not have listened to him, but she had heard every one, and she'd be forever grateful for the strength and confidence they had given her. That he had given her.
"And I promise, when it's all said and done, I'll tell you all about it over your favorite pizza."
Jacks' eyes lit up at that and he smiled. "Throw some skee ball in and you've got yourself a deal, little lady," he said playfully.
"You suck at that game, Jack," Riley laughed.
"Not if you help me," he replied with a wink.
"Oh, I see how it is," Riley chided as she pulled gently on his hands. "C'mon, old man, get off the floor before you freeze that way."
"I'll have you know that I'm extremely limber."
"Ewww, Jack! Too much information, dude."
Jack released one of his hands and wrapped it tight around his ribs as he started to stand up. "That's not… That sounded a lot different in my head," he grit out. He got half-way up, and then leaned over, resting his forehead on her shoulder with a groan.
"It shoulda stayed there, too," Riley told him good-naturedly. She placed one of her hands on the back of his neck and rested her head against the side his. "Along with most of the other stuff that tumbles outta that mouth of yours,"
"Ha ha, you're just a laugh a minute, aren't you?"
"Yup. Now, one more move and then you don't have to get up again until we're back home, okay."
"That's gonna suck, isn't it?" he said, but she felt him steel himself for the pain. "Alright, let's do this, then."
"Easy, now." Riley scootched over on the bench seat a bit, her own injuries letting her know just what kind of a bad idea that was. She placed one of her hands gently on his waist, the other on his shoulder as she guided him around to sit down. "Don't even stand up, okay? Just turn you're body a bit and sit, the corner walls will give you some support."
He sat heavily and all at once amid a flurry of curse words before she could stop him, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, jaw clenched tight as he tried to breathe through what was no doubt stabbing pain.
"Jack…" It was all she could say; one long, drawn call of his name that encompassed all of the exasperation and fear that she felt at what he had just done.
"'M'fine, really, Riley," Jack said as he reached blindly for her hand and gave it a poor semblance of a reassuring squeeze. "Gotta do it like a band-aid, all at once. Slow just makes it worse. Okay, you're turn now."
He opened his eyes and looked at her, patting the space beside him. "C'mere."
"Jack, what? No. I'm good here, really. I'll hurt you more."
"First off, you are not good there. We have at least another eleven hours of flight time left and I'm not gonna let you sit on the edge of that seat the whole damn time. Second of all, I've seen horseflies back home that weigh more than you, for crying out loud, you're not gonna hurt me, Ri. So c'mere, been a long day full of too many countries and too many bad guys and we both deserve a rest."
They just looked at each for a moment before Riley finally conceded that she wasn't going to win this round, and that just maybe he had some valid points, not that she was going to tell him that, of course. "So, just all at once, huh?"
"Go big or go home, baby," Jack bantered.
Riley chuckled and shook her head at Jack's favorite new saying, surprised he hadn't sung the jingle like he had been doing ever since he'd seen the football commercial it was tagged to. She doubted very much that phrase was relevant to this situation, but that was Jack for you.
She braced her hands on either side of her injured leg and spun around, Jack's hands on her waist helping to move her back and beside him all at the same time.
Jack wrapped his arms around her middle, and she rested her head on his chest. "You still fit right here beside me," he said wistfully. "You remember when we used to stay up late and watch the Saturday night creature-feature?"
"Yeah, I do." It hadn't been often that she'd allowed herself that comfort from him, but the few times she had were cherished memories. "God, those movies where awful… I think we need to start doing that again."
"Hey," Mac's sudden entrance had them both looking up, "you two doing alright?"
Riley watched as he assessed them both in a matter of seconds from where he stood, answering his own question without needing any input from them, she was sure. Even after all the time they'd worked together, and all the impossible things she'd seem him pull off, she still found it fascinating how his brain worked.
He went to the cabinet across from them. He pulled a blanket off the shelf and snapped it open, draping it over the two of them and then dimmed the overhead lights.
You two doing alright? That was a pretty loaded question, Riley thought.
She still wasn't sure about Elwood's intentions. Whether for once in his life he was, finally, telling the truth and wanted a relationship with her. If he had a hidden agenda, or if he was going to revert back to his old ways like he had so many times in the past, getting her hopes up and then shattering them when he left once again.
She wondered too what would happen when he found out his place in her life, that he had been replaced, and who exactly it was that had replaced him. Wondered also if Jack's talk with Elwood would go the same way their last one had gone, because she held no doubts that once Jack found out, he would track the other man down and confront him, find out for himself just what Elwood's intentions were.
But, Riley realized, those were allthoughts for another time. Don't go borrowing trouble now, enough finds us all on its own, she could hear Jack's drawl in her ear as if he had actually said the words. Beside, Mac's question, what he was asking… none of those thoughts mattered. None of that was what was important.
Jack pulled her closer, placing a kiss on the top of her head as he looked down at her. Riley gave him a soft smile as she settled herself against his side, letting her eyes drift shut in the safety and comfort of his arms.
"Yeah, Mac, we're perfect."