Hi guys! I'm so sorry I haven't written in a while...but I'm back! Here's another hurt!Jack because I don't know how to write anything else. Enjoy!
"We need more milk!" Henley called from the kitchen, shutting refrigerator the door with frustration. It seemed to her that she was the only responsible one in the house. She glanced into the living room to see Merritt and Danny. Danny buried his head deeper into his book, and Merritt yelled, "Sorry, I'm sleeping!"
Henley groaned. "You guys suck."
"I'LL GO!" An excited yell came from the other room. Jack raced into the kitchen, playing cards still in hand. Henley laughed at his eagerness to do the simplest tasks, like a child excited about feeding his dog. She handed him his jacket and warned, "Okay, but be careful. The cops are still on our asses." With a quick nod of thanks, Jack burst out the door. After a few steps, he turned on his heel, poked his head back through, said to Henley, "Don't worry, I'll be fine," winked, and ran off.
The cold night winter air hit his skin like a brick wall, but Jack loved it. The other horsemen weren't bothered by their seemingly "house arrest", but Jack couldn't stand it. Throwing cards at the wall–and occasionally Merritt–could only hold his attention for so long. As he walked through the busy streets of New York to the corner store, he looked at the people around him. Looking at the same three faces each and every day had made strangers on the sidewalk more fascinating than ever.
He finally reached the store and made sure to duck to the right to avoid the security camera perched to his left. Quickly making his way through the isles, he grabbed a gallon of milk and brought it to the register. The cashier tried to make small talk, but Jack supplied him with short, choppy answers. He didn't like the way the employee was looking at him, lingering too long on each of his facial features as if piecing together a puzzle. After what seemed like forever, Jack exited the store, wanting to run, but knowing better than to add to the cashier's suspicions.
"Slow. Down."
"Slow. Down."
He kept whispering the same two words to himself, but the more he repeated the phrase, the more nervous he grew. Instead, he began counting his steps, restarting when his foot hit a crack. It was something he had done as a child when walking through the streets of Brooklyn to calm himself down. It seemed to be working until he heard "Jack Wilder! Put your hands where we can see them."
That's the last thing I'm about to do, Jack thought as he took off running. He heard a bullet scream by his head, followed by real screams, and finished off with the milk carton splashing on the pavement.
Sorry Henley.
Another gunshot rang in his ears, only making him run faster, enjoying the adrenaline of the chase.
"STOP! We WILL shoot!"
You already did. Twice, Jack thought with a small laugh. He turned in the opposite direction of the horsemens' apartment and led the officers down a completely different street, making his way toward a large brick wall. Quickly locating the small trash can that always sat at the base of the wall, he jumped a top of it and launched himself to the ledge, making sure to kick it over after so it wouldn't be of immediate use to the officers. Said officers gave up the chase as soon as they saw Jack scale the wall, knowing by the time they found a way to the other side, he would already be blending in with a new sea of people and cacophony of chatter and angry traffic.
A smirk overcame Jack's face at outrunning the cops, along with a sense of relief that he hadn't blown a simple trip to the store. However, his satisfaction was short lived, as he lost his footing and descended in an awkward tangle of limbs. His shoulder was the first to hit the ground seven feet below, on the other side of the wall. A sickening POP bounced off the alley walls, followed by a few muffled clunks and clicks. He screamed at the initial contact but then began choking on his own outburst. His breathing suddenly became labored and he struggled to get a good breath in; each inhale jarred his injured arm further, worsening the pain.
"Ow," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He moved to his hands and knees to try and push himself up, but as soon as he applied the smallest bit of pressure, his entire right side collapsed, and he was back to a pained heap on the concrete. Using only his left hand, Jack pushed himself to his feet, with his right arm hanging uselessly beside him.
He could already feel his shoulder swelling inside his sleeve and pushing against the tight leather of his jacket. The pain had spiked significantly and his arm felt extremely unstable, like he no longer had control over it. This was something Jack had never experienced before, so he was, at the least, a little frightened. Not knowing what to do, he began to shake his arm to relieve the pain, which quickly proved to be a huge mistake. As soon as he tried to move his arm in the slightest, multiple pops and clicks rang out through his joint, bringing new pain with each burst. "What..." POP "Shit..." clickclick "OW" popClick "OKAY that's...enough". He was doubled over in pain now, clutching his shoulder with his opposite hand and breathing heavily.
Nope nope nope bad idea, just let it hang there. Don't. Move it. Gritting his teeth to suppress anymore cries of agony, he waited for the fresh wave of pain to pass before he began the stumble home, still protectively holding his injured arm.
It's ok, Danny will know what to do. It's ok, Danny will know what to do.
This mantra got him the four blocks to the run down apartment, and barely up the stairs to the third floor. Jack was surprised he hadn't collapsed in the middle of the street and/or thrown up, but didn't want to jinx himself as he kicked the door with his foot for someone to let him in, as one of his arms was no longer working, and the other was grasping the latter.
Please open please open. I need help. Please...
Recognizing Jack's knocking pattern, Henley came to the door and opened it for the youngest horsemen. Seeing the door swing open and Henley's comforting smile, Jack was overwhelmed with a sense of relief.
"Jack! What–"
Before she could finish her sentence, Jack's body gave in to the pain and exhaustion, as he fell to the ground.
"I forgot...the milk."
First chapter done! Hope you guys enjoyed. If I get enough interest/reviews on this story I'll post the next chapter soon. Thank you!