This is a re-post. I fixed some tenses & grammatical errors, which I admit, was kind of distracting. I don't know what I was thinking!
This scene takes place directly after the final scene in the movie "Live Free or Die Hard". For some reason, I always thought there should be one more scene here before the credits started rolling up. The idea bounced around in my head for a while but I never actually put it down in writing.
Continuing Chapter: Unlikely Hero
The noises brought John McClane out of unconsciousness. Uneasy thoughts and disturbing images were twirling around in his mind. His eyelids were heavy with exhaustion and found it very difficult to open his eyes. In the darkness, he questioned himself over and over if the last seventy-two hours had been nothing more than a terrible nightmare. But he felt the stabbing pain from the gunshot wound and realized immediately that none of it had been a dream at all. The pain from his injuries brought back the memories and reality slammed into his face. He couldn't believe how he managed to survive this one. People told him he was a magnet for action, but this was ridiculous. The final words of Thomas Gabriel echoed in his head – "wrong place, wrong time."
He, of all people, happened to single-handedly save the United States from complete annihilation. Though, the help of his young squirrelly suspect-turned-sidekick Matt Farrell should also be recognized and given some credit. He was tired of bailing the kid out of trouble all the time – it was getting repetitive and tiresome. Although the kid had strengths, he also acquired a knack for getting himself into messes. But the kid sure as hell impressed him on a few occasions.
John had to admit that he and Matt made a pretty good team – well, when they weren't arguing. Matt's computer savvy combined with John's gutsy street smarts made them unstoppable. Saving the nation was a big deal. John figured this ought to win him a couple of medals at least. Though medals were the last things on his mind.
The effects of the morphine and sedatives were starting to wear off. But the noises around him got louder. It was a combination of disjointed human voices muffled by distant sirens and the shuffling of a thousand hurried footsteps. The copper stench of old blood and chemicals reeking of alcohol filled his nostrils. These things made it impossible for him to continue sleeping.
(Where am I?) John thought. The minute he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn't.
The scene before him was utter chaos. From what he gathered, he had ended up at the Downtown Hospital. Rectangular soft white fluorescent lights that clung to the ceiling lit the area. The bright light hurt John's eyes. He squinted and waited for his eyes to adjust. The room did not remotely resemble anything to an emergency room. Instead, it was a large room that was sectioned off by curtains and shaded partitions. This room, he realized it to be the hospital's cafeteria. They turned it into an extended emergency room to accommodate the mass flow of people injured by the attack.
Hospital equipment were strewn everywhere for convenience. The lack of time made it impossible to reorganize. Defibrillators, crash carts, medical instruments, blankets, infusion pumps, and other paraphernalia were scattered between the endless rows of beds. There were used gauze pads and all sorts of unsightly garbage on the floor. Shoes and other articles of clothing were lying about as well. There didn't appear to be any form of order. The disheveled doctors and overworked nurses milled around from patient to patient like bees to flowers.
There were dozens of injured people still lying in gurneys waiting for their turn to be attended to. Patients moaning, sobbing loudly, shrieking and screaming from pain were heard throughout the room. There were nurses frantically trying to administer drugs and do all they could to tend to the ailing patients.
The more severe cases were immediately wheeled through the double doors and into the main ER, where surgeries and other first aids were used to save lives. However, those with less life-threatening injuries were left alone, or rather – "put on hold" until they had doctors available to conduct the surgery. John figured he fell into this category. Being tucked away into the far corner of the room kind of gave it away.
John winced as he tried to move. His ribs had been taped up real tight. It was hard to breathe but the pressure from the bandages was probably doing more good than harm. The gunshot wound on his shoulder caused menacing pain.
(I can't believe I shot myself.) John thought and smiled to himself. (I shoulda never come out of retirement. I'm gettin' too old for this shit.)
John thought it amusing that he cheated death once again. He felt rather untouchable and chuckled to himself. But the chuckle was cut short as another spasm of pain forced him into a cough. He wondered were Lucy had gone.
His college-aged daughter, Lucy, was nowhere to be found. He imagined her to be somewhere in the lobby quarreling with the hospital secretaries about his condition and what was being done to make him well. John knew how feisty Lucy can get. But somehow, she always got her way in the end. Rutgers Law School was really starting to pay off. Though, he highly disapproved of his only daughter going into law. Being a New York City detective, he was exposed to the tyranny of DAs and lawyers throughout his career. He didn't want his daughter to be thrown into the mix. But, well, once Lucy had her mind set on something, it would be almost impossible to talk her out of it. John would've much preferred his daughter take up medicine instead.
John turned his head slowly and realized Matt was lying in the adjacent bed, about two feet away. The kid appeared to be asleep, with his head turned slightly towards the wall on the opposite side. A piece of his scruffy black hair had fallen over his closed eyes. Day-old stubble dotted his chin obscuring most of his pale facial features. His face showed signs of pure exhaustion.
(How many twenty-four-year-olds have gone through what he had gone through?) John thought casually. Underneath the whole I'm-gonna-beat-you-to-death image, he kind of liked the kid and felt it was still his responsibility to look out for him.
John stared at the skinny figure in the bed. There was no blanket on him nor did he even get a pillow. Matt's body appeared to have just been placed on the bed aimlessly and then neglected. They didn't even bother to take off his shoes. Ragged doll – came immediately to John's mind. The creased and tattered clothes from the events of the last three days made Matt look like he'd been through a wringer. The bloody scratches and bruises on his face made him appear defeated. John's eyes drifted down to Matt's injured leg.
It appeared the paramedics mutilated his jeans from the thigh down to the shins to get to the injury. The thick set of bandages that wrapped around the knee was soaked with layers of fresh and dried blood. No one had come around to change them. There was so much blood smeared on his jeans and leg that it was hard to pinpoint exactly where the wound was located. John noticed the pool of dried blood collecting under the leg. The white bed sheet thirstily absorbed the blood leaving an orangy maroon color. Fabric had a way of saturating the stain to look bigger than it actually was. But it was pretty obvious that Matt was not patched up yet. From the looks of things, it was highly unlikely that it would be his turn anytime soon.
"Hey kid." John spoke for the first time. His voice was raspy and barely audible amidst the noisy room. He bit back the pain in his shoulder.
"Kid, you awake?" John said a little louder this time. He got no reply. Matt did not stir.
"Kid." John called again. "Can you hear me?"
There was no response. Matt was completely still.
"Matt?" John was starting to get a little nervous. It just dawned on him that the bullet could've hit an artery in the leg. The kid could easily be dying from excessive blood loss or suffering from internal bleeding.
John's eyes were glued to a spot on Matt's tee shirt. He wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him because it seemed like there was no rise and fall of the kid's chest to indicate breathing. Something just didn't seem right. He quickly looked around the room for personnel and spotted a nurse standing a few beds away from him tending to another patient.
"Nurse?" He attempted to get her attention. She seemed to not hear him.
"Excuse me, nurse?" He called. Trying to flag her down with his good arm, John was getting a little impatient. She noticed him through the corner of her eye but finished up with her current patient before giving attention to John.
"Hey, nurse." He called again. This time, the nurse made her way to John's bedside.
She wore a tired but courteous smile. Before John could say a word, she mechanically recited, "Sir, everything's going to be alright. You just lie still. There's nothing to worry about. Everything's going to be fine."
"Oh, not for me. I'm just dandy." John clarified. "I was wondering, can you check on the kid." He thumbed in the direction where Matt lay motionless. "He doesn't look so good."
The nurse glanced over at Matt. The bloody bandages and blood spill caught her attention almost immediately. John's eyes followed the nurse as she walked over to Matt's bed. He couldn't tell what she was doing since her chunky figure blocked his view.
"He got shot in the knee." John offered, trying to be helpful. "It was a 10mm fully automatic Colt handgun."
The nurse spun around and gave John a startled look. She'd seen and treated all sorts of injuries that resulted in falling debris and other mishaps but dealt with very few gunshot wounds.
"It's ok, ma'am. John McClane. I'm with the police. We got in a tight jam and got shot up. I'd show you my badge but it's in my back pocket – kinda hard to reach right now." He winced. "The kid's a friend." He added. He couldn't believe he just called Matt his "friend." The real John didn't believe in having any friends.
Seeming eager to accept the explanation, the nurse turned back to Matt. John tried to watch what the nurse was doing but her stocky figure took up too much space between the beds.
"Is he alright?" John asked impatiently. He felt he had to say something. The suspense was killing him.
But the nurse didn't hear him. Instead, she appeared rather alarmed and started beckoning other nurses to come over. Two other nurses came over and they whispered feverishly trying to maintain calmness. They kept their tones low and in control of the panic in their voices. John strained his neck and ears to catch any of the conversation but was unsuccessful.
The nurses then summoned a male doctor, who was walking across the room. He came over and the women mumbled something to him. He gave instructions as he was examining Matt's injury.
"Hey, what's going on?" John asked. No one answered him.
One of the nurses left and returned with a gurney. The uneasy feeling knawing in the pit his stomach grew. He watched the doctor and nurses carefully slide Matt onto the gurney. Completely limp, Matt made no signs of regaining consciousness. It was only then that John realized how pale the kid's face had gotten.
"Where are you taking him?" John demanded. But he knew very well where they were taking him - through those double doors. No one paid any attention to his inquiry. Frustrated, he grabbed one of the nurses by the arm as she passed by his bed. "Nurse," he began.
"It's alright dear." The old curly-haired nurse said politely. Hearing the kind tone in her voice made John feel guilty having grabbed the woman's arm in such a rude way. He instantly released his grasp.
"The kid, is he ok?" John asked with hardened green eyes staring straight into the nurse's soft wrinkled blue eyes. He wanted answers.
"They're going to take care of him." The nurse said as John watched Matt disappear through the double doors with a flock of nurses by his side. "Now, you just lie back and rest yourself."
John McClane hated to be told what he could and could not do. He was not a man to be bound. Part of him wanted to get up and push his way through the double doors and find Matt so he could see for himself. He was impatient and anxious to know the truth.
"Look, I wish I can tell you that he's going to be fine. But I can't make that kind of promise. It wouldn't be right for me to make assumptions about his condition since I'm not sure myself." The nurse spoke eloquently. "Sir, your friend is in good hands."
"His name's Matt." John had no choice but to accept the nurse's words. He gave a soft grievous sigh – like he carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow with his thumb.
"Don't worry. A little optimism goes a long way." The nurse offered. John did not appear to hear her. She figured perhaps he was in some sort of pain. "Is there something I can get you? Maybe a painkiller or – or a glass of water?"
"No, no." He shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks."
"Then, I'll come by a little later and check on you." The nurse said.
"Oh, nurse, there is one thing you can do." John called just as she was about to leave. "Can you let me know if you hear any news about Matt?"
"Sure." The nurse smiled and left John alone.
He stared at the dusty speckled ceiling tiles as he contemplated the possibilities. John didn't know what to make of it. He was too hasty in thinking that the heroes would come out unscathed. Living life so close to the edge was an adrenaline rush for John McClane and he always happened to land on his feet. He was the cool cat with more than nine lives. But things were suddenly different. Someone's life was on the line. It was someone whom he had grown to care about. Matt, in a way, had been his partner amidst the chaos. He helped save Lucy. Maybe if it wasn't for him, Lucy would've been dead a long time ago.
Helpless and riddled with exhaustion, John closed his eyes and eventually fell asleep.
He soon woke up to his daughter's worried, yet spunky face. For a split second, he'd forgotten where he was. But the putrid smells and clatter of noises brought him back to realization. The stubborn twinge in his shoulder refused to dissolve. It was hard to breathe without feeling some sort of pain. Ironically, the pain was a cheap price to pay in return for having Lucy close to him again. He wouldn't have traded this moment for anything. It was worth it.
"Hey Miss Gennero." John croaked amiably. The corners of his lips curled slightly up.
"Shut up, dad. You know its McClane." Lucy replied in a pleased huff.
"Oh, so now, I'm your dad, huh? I thought you disowned me." John teased. He tried to laugh but winced in pain instead.
"You've always been my dad. It just took me a while to realize it." Lucy spoke softly. Her long caramel-colored hair was tied up in a ponytail. She was still dressed in the same wrinkled clothes.
John studied his daughter's maturing face. He didn't want to believe it, but Lucy was no longer a little girl. She was practically a woman. Treating her like a fifteen year old was wrong. He wished he could take back all the times he spied on her and scared the living daylights out of her dates. Lucy was a smart and sensible person. She had good judgment and would never let anyone take advantage of her. John should never have doubted that. After all, she did take after him in so many ways. She'd proven that in the last twenty four hours.
"Does it hurt?" Lucy asked as her eyes drifted onto the blue fabric sling that held John's arm.
"I'd be lying if I said no." John muttered.
"You shot yourself."
"I know. You don't have to keep reminding me. Besides, it was a through and through – didn't hit anything vital. I knew what I was doing."
"Sure dad, whatever." She rolled her eyes. Somehow, she just wasn't up for a debate.
John turned his head and gazed at the empty hospital bed next to him. Someone had cleared the bloody bed sheet and replaced it with a fresh one. There was no sign of Matt anywhere.
"How long have I been asleep?" John asked in a foggy tone.
"About and hour or so." Lucy replied.
"You hear anything on Matt?"
Lucy shook her head. "I think he's still in there." She said as she stared at the double doors across the room.
Sometimes no news was better than some news. Even though he was only fooling himself, the unknown gave a degree of hope. That was the way John saw it.
(If it was just a flesh wound, they wouldn't be in there this long.) John thought. He wondered how things could get so out of hand.
If only he had a better handle on the situation. Perhaps if he thought about Lucy's safety to begin with, she wouldn't have been kidnapped and things would turn out differently. Profiling was not John's specialty but he knew the type of scum Thomas Gabriel was. He should've seen it coming. Gabriel was capable of taking Lucy away just as quickly as he could take Matt away. John couldn't weigh the importance of his daughter with his newly acquired friend. There was nothing hands down about it. For one to live, the other must die. He had a really bad feeling.
"I got him into this mess." John finally muttered under his breath.
"It's not your fault." Lucy comforted. "None of this was your fault."
"I don't think I can do this anymore." He said solemnly.
"You're burnt out. Maybe you'll feel better once you're rested."
"No Lucy, I really don't think I can do this anymore." He said. "Too many people end up in body bags."
"Are you worried about Matt? Is that it? Cause if you are, I'm sure he's ok. He has to be." Lucy stammered. She'd never seen her dad this way. John was always certain and confident about everything. To see him falter and question himself, well, it was so unnaturally human of him.
"It's not just that. It's everything else. I'm tired, Lucy." He droned. His speech was slow and sure.
"Dad, you just saved the nation from Armageddon. Of course you'd be tired."
"I mean the job. It's gotten to be too much. I don't know anymore."
Lucy reached over and placed a soft kiss on her father's forehead. "Things'll be alright. You can't expect to fix everything. You can only do so much. You're but one man. I don't care what anyone says, I'm proud of what you did."
The words meant so much to him. His daughter didn't hate his guts after all. He made plenty of mistakes in his lifetime, but this was the one moment he saw a silver lining. It was a sign that things were turning around. Lucy forgave him.
He had odd ways of showing how much he loved Lucy. It was his job to protect her and keep her safe from harm. Looking back, he had to admit that he did this all a little too well. He suffocated her to the point where she just couldn't stand him. His firm hold on his daughter's life was pushing her farther and farther away. Maybe he subconsciously didn't want to let her grown up so fast. He realized now that it was time to let go.
Neither John nor Lucy spoke for the next minute and a half. There was no escaping the thoughts and images that flashed in their minds over the events that happened. It was traumatizing. But in some sick way, this whole ordeal brought them closer together.
"I owe you an apology." John finally said. "I didn't mean to chase away your boyfriend like that. I shouldn't have interfered."
"Dad." Lucy began.
"I may have gone a little overboard." John said before she could say anything.
"A little overboard? Ha, that's an understatement." Lucy challenged.
"Fine, it was very overboard. I was trying to look out for you."
"I'm capable of taking care of myself you know."
"I know that now."
"After all, I AM a McClane." Lucy smiled.
"Well, that's true." John coughed a laugh.
"Oh, and for the record, he's not my boyfriend. I don't know what he was but he wasn't that." Lucy admitted. "Anyway, I don't think he's gonna call." She added with a discouraged sigh.
"And whatever gave you that idea?" John joked.
"Um, after you told him you were going to beat him to death if he ever came near me again." Lucy retorted.
A short laugh escaped John's mouth followed by a grimace. He grabbed at his ribs. His face turned a shade of pink. "That I remember. He looked like he was going to piss in his pants." He chuckled lightly.
"That's not funny." Lucy replied. She couldn't help but giggle. "You're such a bully."
"Hey, it worked."
Just then, someone came through the double doors. John noticed it to be the same doctor that instructed the nurses to transport Matt into the ER. The doctor was dressed in green scrubs and looked plenty exhausted as he wiped the perspiration on his forehead off with a sleeve. Lucy got up and quickly zigzagged her way through the maze of beds to reach the doctor.
John watched from a distance. He wasn't able to hear above the noise. But he studied the body language to tell if it was good or bad news Lucy received as she inquired about Matt. The two seemed engulfed in conversation for a while before Lucy made her way back.
"Well?" John questioned immediately. "What'd he say?"
"They don't know." Lucy said.
"What do you mean they don't know?" John demanded.
"They just don't know." Lucy shrugged. She looked just as confused as he did.
"Oh bull!" John cussed under his breath.
"They got the bullet out but he's lost a lot of blood."
"Where is he now?" John grunted as he shifted positions on the bed.
"He's still in there. He needed a blood transfusion."
John started to get up from his reclined position.
"What are you doing?" Lucy exclaimed.
"I'm gonna get some answers myself." John grumbled as he winced in pain.
"You're in no shape to get out of bed." She insisted and tried to hold John back.
The pain shot from all directions in his body when he tried to move further. His daughter was right. There was no use in getting up. He probably couldn't even stand up straight. John groaned and tilted back onto the bed.
"There's really nothing you or anyone can do. This place is disorganized to the point of chaos. The number of patients has multiplied and still trickling in by the dozens. The hospital is short-staffed and no one anticipated this many casualties. I don't think anyone will be able to help us." Lucy said as her eyes darted across the swarm of panic-stricken people in the room.
John remained silent until the ripple of pain subsided. He was a strong guy and rarely showed his vulnerability. Keeping up his hardened appearance was a difficult task right about then. The pain he endured was excruciating.
"The doctor said once Matt's stable, they'll bring him back here." Lucy said. "I don't know what that means or when that will be but that's all I got out of the doctor before he excused himself."
John, filled with remorse, stared at the empty bed next to him.
"You can't hold yourself responsible for what happened to him." Lucy said after a while. It seemed she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Somewhere along the line, he became my responsibility. It was my job to bring him in for questioning – not get him killed in the process." John said. "Gabriel was my fight, not his."
"You're being too hard on yourself." Lucy consoled. "Matt volunteered. It was his decision to help you. And quite frankly, I'm glad he showed up when he did. They probably would've killed me on the spot if it hadn't been for him." She turned her eyes down.
"I owe him for that." John gazed at his daughter.
There was a pause in conversation.
"Matt's tough, I guess." John said after much thought. He really wanted to know if Matt was still alive. There was no telling what horror was happening behind those monstrous double doors. John only hoped Matt was receiving the care that he needed.
Lucy sensed concern in her father's voice. She, too, had her worries about Matt's condition. There was a great deal of emotion going on inside her that she refused to show. The McClane's had something against revealing too much vulnerability. It just wasn't in their blood - no matter what. They were supposed to be brave and strong at all times – never let anyone see you cry. Lucy was saddened by the circumstances that surrounded Matt. She would've liked to know who he really was. More importantly, she wanted a chance to say thank you.
"I'm glad you're alright." John said to Lucy.
Although he hit the gym on a daily basis and maintained a pretty hefty physique at fifty-two, age was showing on his face. The wrinkles around his tired eyes and creases on his forehead were evident. Still quite attractive for a man of John's age, he decided to mess with his looks by shaving his head. This was something Lucy rejected. She had no interest in baldness. The new look was very much an aquired taste and she learned to accept it.
"I knew you would come for me." Lucy grinned.
"Hey, what are dads for." John replied. "Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it." He added with semi-clenched teeth while trying to mask the pain.
"I'm going to get you some Tylenol or something." Lucy decided as she started getting out of her chair. She saw the amount of pain that he was in.
John did not refuse. Popping a few pills would help tremendously. Lucy did not return with a hand full of aspirins and a bottle of water, like he expected. Instead, she came back with a nurse, who administered a much stronger dose of pain killers than aspirin. Within a few minutes, the medication rendered him asleep.
Sleep was what John needed the most to allow his body to heal. He had less than five hours of sleep within the last three days. He was exhausted and desparately needed to be recharged. His sleep was deep and mellow. No sound could wake him at this point. The drugs were relaxing his nerves and made him oblivious to the chaotic ambiance of the hospital. There was no more thinking about how broken the nation had become, no more thinking about Thomas Gabriel's demise, no more thinking about the damage that had been done, no more thinking about Lucy's safety, no more thinking about Matt's well-being…..it was just a tranquil sleep. John had thought about everything and now, he thought about nothing. He just allowed all of it to slip through his mind.
John McClane woke some time later that evening. The loud jumble of noises was still there, as was the strong stench of bodily fluids and hospital drugs. He realized time had passed from the disappearance of daylight coming in from the window to his far right. The sky had gotten dark. The fluorescent ceiling lights blinded him for a second. Squinting at the bright light, he groaned uncomfortably.
"You awake?" A squeaky voice said beside him.
John turned his head to see who was talking to him. And much to his surprise, he was greeted by Matt's ashy face. Matt had returned to the adjacent bed.
"Matt?" John wanted to make sure this wasn't some cruel dream.
"Yea, who else would it be?" Matt replied barely audible. He took deep drags of air as he spoke. He seemed out of breath.
"You're ok." John said. One could sense a hint of relief in his tone.
He studied Matt's current state. The bruises and cuts on the kid's face had been stitched and bandaged. The blood loss and transfusion left him extremely weak. John also noticed how much Matt's complexion matched the white pillowcase in which he rested his head upon. His face was drained of color. The IV drip caught John's attention. The tube snaked it's way from the saline drip pouch, that hung over Matt's bed, into the crook of his arm. At least Matt's leg looked in better condition. It was now wrapped neatly with bandages and gauze, and propped up with two pillows.
"I'm fine." Matt confirmed. "I think."
"You had me worried there for a minute."
"Why?"
"Because you almost died."
"I did?!"
"Yep. You nearly bled to death."
"Oh." Matt stared at his bandaged leg. "They wouldn't tell me anything. The last thing I remember was being bounced around in the ambulance. Then the next thing I know, I wake up here feeling – quite drained." He spoke in a tired drawl. "Seems like a mad house in here."
"You don't know the half of it. You're gonna be ok." John sighed. "Where'd Lucy go?" He added after a pause.
"She went to get some food. She left about ten minutes ago but she'll be back." Matt said.
"Food. I'd forgotten about food." John said wholeheartedly. "Come to think of it, I am kinda hungry."
"Is a gunshot wound supposed to hurt this much?" Matt grunted softly when he tried to move.
"Don't move around. And yes, it's supposed to hurt like hell." John replied.
"How many times have you gotten shot?" Matt asked curiously.
"Four or five times, I dunno. I lost count. I try not to think too much about it." John's reply came quickly. He dismissed the fact that it was exactly eight times in the course of his career that he suffered from a gunshot wound. Although quite a few of them were just bullet grazes, being shot was a sensation that he could never forget. He had a scar from each incident to serve as souvenirs and reminders for the rest of his life. He didn't wear the scars proudly as badges of courage. Instead, he hid them from the wandering eye.
Matt seemed to be satisfied with John's answer and did not pursue it any further. His dark brown eyes glistened as he stared at the ceiling. He set aside the smart ass facade and suddenly became serious.
"So, what's gonna happen to me now?" Matt said without looking at John.
Matt couldn't look at him – not after what happened. The fire sale was, after all, his idea. It was a program that he helped create. He just never anticipated it to would work this well. Hacking was supposed to be a cool and harmless prank. It was never meant to do actual damage. Technically, this was all his fault and he knew he was in big trouble with the authorities.
"Are they going to arrest me for what I did?" Matt's voice sounded softer than usual.
"Highly unlikely."
"How could you say that? It was because of me that all this happened. I created the codes that nearly brought the nation to mass destruction."
"No, you created it but it fell into the wrong hands. Gabriel took it and implemented it. They were internet terrorists. You had no idea what he was using it for." John stated as-a-matter-of-factly. "What happened after - has nothing to do with you."
"I hacked into top security government databases."
"And because you had the know-how, you knew how to stop Gabriel in his tracks. It was your encryption that kept him from gaining access to the databanks. I would say your initial hacking is excusable."
"B-but I killed two people." Matt insisted.
"Uh, that would be self-defense." John interjected. "If you hadn't stepped in, they would have killed me and Lucy. I'll testify to that."
"Geez, you seem to have an answer for everything." Matt said exasperatedly.
"I'm just sayin', they won't haul your ass off to jail - if that's what you're worried about." John flexed his arm to relieve the stiffness.
Matt watched the muscles of John's bulging biceps tighten beneath a thin layer of t-shirt. At that moment, he was glad to have John on his side. He could actually imagine being pounded to a pulp by this guy.
"Look, it's not your fault that you don't know how to apply your brainy talents." John cracked a smile in attempts to lighten the subject.
Matt gave no reply. He had a lot on his mind. But John expected that much. John was a man of consequence. He knew about getting the job done and the aftermath. Sweeping up the mess that came after was just as important. This was what made him such a great cop.
"I wanna say nothin's gonna happen to you. But then I'd be lying. This is only the beginning." John started off in a calm tone. He looked at the ceiling while he spoke. He could feel Matt's eyes staring at him. "After the pardon, the Feds are gonna grant you a nice sum of money – kinda like a reward for your help in bringing down Thomas Gabriel and his pack of thugs. Then after the dust settles a bit, the FBI will want to hire you."
"Me? Why would they want to hire me?" Matt's voice was pitchy.
John stifled a laugh, which hurt his sides. He had to remember that laughing was painful and to not do it so often.
"You just don't know how capable you are, do you?" John said swallowing pain. "Kid, you created something that can ultimately cripple the United States' infrastructure and shut down the entire nation. Now, how many people can actually do that?"
Matt was speechless. Working for the FBI never even crossed his mind.
"The FBI is gonna need someone who knows the security system like the way you do. If you are able to take down their system, they're going to need to protect it." John continued. "Their best bet is you. Now, they're going to probably give you an offer you can't refuse. That's how they work. They're not stupid."
"How could you be so sure?" Matt said skeptically.
"You think I'm joking. Kid, you just wait and see." John said rather offensively. The kid was right. But John had a couple of aces up his sleeve. He was going to pull a few strings for the kid. Despite Matt's mistakes, he deserved a break.
"It's not that I don't believe you. It's just that it's so hard to believe."
It never dawned on Matt that things would end this way. Heroism wasn't something that he could easily pull off like the way John could. Matt was different. Battling it out in the cyber world was so much easier and safer than doing it in person. He knew all about viruses and firewalls, but not the first thing about physical combat. Hiding behind a computer was far less life-threatening.
"A word of advice, don't go making another fire sale, ok?" John said.
"I don't think I'd do that again." Matt sounded sad. He stared at the wall.
There was a pause in conversation before John started again.
"It'll probably take a while for them to get the financial data back on track and the transition of money into your bank account." John said.
"It's not like I'll have a mailing address anytime soon. Gabriel blew up my apartment, remember?" Matt said. "I can't go back there."
"You got any family you can stay with?"
"Family? No, it's just me." Matt replied sheepishly. "I was thinking maybe I can bunk with Freddie for a few weeks. Well, I don't know how that's gonna go. The Almighty Warlock doesn't like people invading his command center. I'll think of something, I guess." He sounded unsure.
"Listen, why don't you stay at my place? You know, just until you get back on your feet." John said. This offer surprised Matt.
"With you? Naw, I couldn't." Matt refused. He pushed the hair out of his eyes.
"They haven't blown up my house yet. And I've got plenty of space." John said. "I'll admit that it's a little messy right now. But it's better than staying in Freddie's basement."
"I don't know." Matt hesitated.
"Come on, kid. You don't have anywhere else to go." John demanded. He didn't mean to come off so harsh – the kid's just lost everything he had in the last 72 hours. He should be more sensitive but sensitivity was just not the McClane vocabulary. McClane's were blunt and to the point.
Matt looked at John bleary-eyed.
"Lucy's going to stay at my place until classes pick up again. Then it's back to campus life." John revealed. "Her own idea."
Matt thought this was some kind of joke. John allowed him to stay in the same house as his precious daughter?! Wasn't it John who threatened to beat anyone to death if they messed with his daughter? This made Lucy untouchable – off limits. But Matt could have sworn John was loosening the leash a little, making Lucy a bit more attainable. Perhaps the brush with death changed John's mentality. In any case, Matt felt rather suspicious.
"I won't mind." John said. Matt caught the sincerity in John's voice.
"Really? You would do that for me?" Matt asked.
"Why not? You saved my life back there. I owe you that much."
"Goes the same for you. You kept me from getting killed more times than I can count."
"That was my job." John said modestly. "'Sides, just helpin' out if I can."
"No one, no one's ever done anything like this for me before." Matt said with a heartfelt but bewildered sigh.
"Don't worry, Lucy's room will be very far from yours." John said in a strict dad-tone. Then he softened a notch. "You break her heart, I'm gonna break your ass."
And that was the John McClane Matt knew. Nobody crossed him and got away with it. Matt couldn't help but feel a little better about his circumstances, now that John, in his own subtle way, was allowing him to be with Lucy.
Matt was so touched that he could cry. But it wasn't something that one does in front of someone like John. He had to be man enough to suck in the tears and be tough. Although each time he tried to move his leg to better accommodate his position, a bolt of pain shot up his spinal. Nothing but an uncontrollable moan passed his pale lips. He prayed that John did not hear it.
But John was very observant. He noticed everything. John could withstand a great deal of physical pain. Matt was not so tolerant. Although John really wasn't the type of person who would fawn over an injured pup, he was capable of feeling pity. John caught a glimpse of Matt's glassy eyes before the kid turned away.
He wanted to tell Matt it was going to be alright, but he just couldn't bring himself to verbalizing it. He was a man of steel and emotions were just not things he was used to pouring out. His divorce with Holly left him hollow and passive.
At least John still had his daughter. Matt had no one. He was a loner. John was pretty much the only one he could depend on. Matt wasn't the type of guy who would ask for help unless it was offered. That characteristic mirrored John exactly.
Several minutes later, Lucy returned. She had in her hands two medium-sized brown paper bags.
"I found sandwiches." Lucy reported enthusiastically. "Everywhere is closed. But I managed to find a deli that was still open a few blocks away. Hope you guys like ham and swiss because that's about all they had."
"At this rate, I'll take whatever I can get. I'm so hungry I can bite my foot off." John expressed with a smirk.
"I'd like to see you do that." Lucy said jokingly as she emptied the contents of the bags out onto the edge of the bed.
She unwrapped one of the sandwiches and handed it to her father. John ravenously took a big bite out of it. Then she handed another sandwich to Matt before opening one for herself. Matt only stared at his sandwich. For the first time in his life, he was not hungry. He was bothered by the lack of food the last couple days. Everyone ignored him when he requested a stop for food. But now, he just didn't have a desire for it.
"What's the matter?" Lucy said to Matt after taking a nibble out of her sandwich.
"Dunno. No appetite." Matt replied.
"You've been harping about food for the last three days. Now, you finally get some, and you say you're not hungry?" John said between mouthfuls.
Matt shrugged and played with the wax paper that protected the sandwich.
"You gotta eat something." Lucy insisted out of concern.
"For some reason, I just can't eat." Matt said. He appeared weak and sickly.
John kept watch as he chomped on his food.
"Just try. Maybe your appetite will open." Lucy advised smartly.
"I-I can't. I don't know if I can hold it down." Matt replied. He felt a trace of nausea building in his stomach.
"AW, SHUT UP AND JUST EAT IT." John's voice thundered. "Don't make me ram the sandwich down your throat." It was tough love. He cared about Matt but he obviously had a different way of showing it.
The unyielding tone in John's gruff voice made Matt jump. He was so startled that he almost dropped the sandwich on the floor. It left Matt no choice but to obey. He nervously grabbed the sandwich and took timid bites out of the corner.
"There you go." John said. Satisfied at Matt's compliance, John continued to munch on his food.
The disturbing sounds and horrible odors coming from his surroundings at the hospital room had taken a huge step into the background. They did not bother him. He watched the interaction between Lucy and Matt as he pretended to be occupied with food and napkins. He knew that it was going to happen sooner or later. There was nothing he could do to stop it and it really wasn't in his place to stand in between them – at least not anymore. Matt was a good kid and had John's approval. They've been through too much – keeping the nation from going into the dark ages, ducking away from assassins, foiling an internet terrorist plot, not to mention saving each other's lives multiple times in the process. Matt has proven that he could be just as brave and heroic as anyone.
(Things are actually going to be alright for a change.) John thought and smiled to himself.
The End
Author's Note: Hey, as I finish writing this, I realized that they could turn this into a TV series. I think that would be neat. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read my fic. Please be gentle in your reviews! I'm a new Die Hard fan. I haven't seen the first 3 Die Hard movies yet. I've only seen the 4th movie before writing this fic. I made up a lot of the stuff based on assumption. Thanks!