Woo okay, I just watched some really funny videos and my stomach hurts from laughing too much. Lol. So here we go, Jay's hurt, Gale's crashed in a forest, let's get on with it and see how they get outta this one. Thanks to Coffee Monsta and TheShadeOps for your reviews.

Thanks for Reading, Fly High Aim Higher

~Spitfire out

Gale woke up slowly, leaning forward but kept upright by his harness. He lifted his head slowly, groaning at the ache in his neck. Fire. He coughed and braced himself against the seat. There was fire outside. He remembered now, he'd gone down in a forest. The two blown engines must've cause the fire. Gale considered his options a moment as his head cleared. He could go outside, find some form of help, but then, there was the fire, he wasn't sure of the extent of the blaze and for all he knew it spanned miles of the forest around him. And then there was the fact that he was in Russia, which wasn't exactly on friendly terms with the Task Force at the moment. Gale sighed and unclipped from the safety harness. He stood, wincing at a pain in his chest as something shifted, and moved to check his controls.

Gale did not have high hopes for having any power to the console. After confirming his suspicions, he moved towards the back of the cockpit, grabbing for the emergency radio. Only to have pain shoot up his arm as it refused to move. Broken. Great. He grabbed the radio with his unbroken left arm and inspected it. It appeared intact, but it would broadcast on an open frequency. Any hostile Russian base in the area would pick it up and know exactly where he was. No. Better to wait until he was somewhere less… hostile. Yeah… good luck with that… he told himself. Gale sighed and put the radio back. He slumped in his seat again, thinking through his options.

He winced and held up his good arm in defense as the console sparked. Gale stared at it a moment. Something still had to have power. It was just a matter of wiring and routing the power where he wanted it. This, he could manage. If he could get the power routed to the communications he had a chance of getting through to Command over a closed channel.

"Chemo, Chemo, he's not breathing," Prophet whined, holding one hand on the back of Jay's head, angling it so it was easier for Jay to breathe, but he wasn't breathing anymore.

"Damn…" Chemo looked up at Prophet then down at Jay's face.

He was grimacing, it looked like he was trying to breathe at least, but he couldn't. Jay's eyes shifted to look at him, he was in pain, struggling and scared, as any sane person would be.

"It's alright, Jay, CASEVAC's enroute, we'll get you outta here and then you'll be fine. Just fine," Chemo assured and looked back at Prophet, who looked like he was only just holding it together, "Proph, gonna need you to take your own advice here and breathe, you're not going to be much help to him panicking."

Prophet looked at him, wide-eyed, and nodded; he took one deep breath, then another, and bit his lip a moment before speaking again, "Wha-what's wrong with him? Why isn't he breathing?"

"He can't. Look," Chemo gestured to Jay's face, it looked as if he was gasping for breath but wasn't getting any, "I think his diaphragm's damaged…"

"You… you can fix it, right?" Prophet asked cautiously.

Chemo shook his head, "I don't know how, I only know the basics, y'know, a good tape job, stitching wounds closed… but I think I can help him breathe at least a little. Expanding his chest too much might make the damage worse, but at the same time if we leave it he won't be able to breathe, the weight and tension of every thing is keeping his lungs closed."

"So… we just need to get them open…"

"By expanding his chest a little," Chemo finished with a nod, "He won't be getting enough oxygen out of the air, though, he'll need an O2 mask…" Chemo dug around in Jay's kit for a moment, "But then he won't be able to breathe out either. It's that same weight and tension that forces the air out of the lungs… We're gonna have to move his chest for him…"

"How do we do that?" Prophet questioned.

Chemo made a face, "We'll figure it out?" he sighed, "I don't know, I've never had to do this… but it's the best we got and he'll suffocate by the time CASEVAC gets here if we don't try it."

Prophet nodded, "Just tell me what you need me to do."

"Just keep his head elevated like you've been doing and keep him distracted."

There was, admittedly, a problem with Gale's plan. He only had one arm and he couldn't get the damn panel off the console. Gale huffed and kicked it, wincing as his ribs shifted again. He made a mental note not to do that again.

He heard a groan and suddenly remembered: he had a co-pilot.

"Johnson?!" Gale called, bracing himself on his seat, "You still alive back there?"

"No…" came a pained groan and Gale gave a huff of a chuckle as he turned.

Johnson was leaning on the hatch frame leading into the cockpit.

"Think you can lend me a hand?" Gale asked curiously.

Johnson shrugged, "I better be able to, I'm better off than you, looks like."

"Aw no, I'm fine, just takin' it easy, mate," Gale sat down stiffly in his seat, "Do me a favor and get that panel off, something under there's still got power."

Johnson knelt by the console and got to work on the screws holding it in place, "And what do you plan to do with that power?"

"See if our comms still work, what else?" Gale questioned, "I'm gonna route the power to them and hope I can get a signal out to command."

"With one arm?"

"I've done more with less," Gale shrugged his left shoulder, moving to kneel beside Johnson as the panel came away, "They don't call me Gale just 'cause it sounds good y'know."

He took a good look at the wires and frowned. A lot of them were already severed and torn. He could still manage, sure, but the wiring was a mess.

"Why do they call you Gale?" Johnson asked curiously as Gale shifted to lay on his back to get a better angle on the wires.

"Flew easy through a typhoon. Didn't even really realize it was there 'till I landed back at base," Gale chuckled.

Johnson simply looked at him, "You flew through a typhoon… without realizing it was a typhoon…"

"Yep."

"Wow…"

"Yeah…. Alright, that should do it," Gale crawled carefully back out of the space and sat heavily in the seat, "Here goes nothing…"

He flipped the comms switch and waited for the tell-tale static of an open line with his team.

"Chemo…" Prophet was nervous, Jay still wasn't breathing despite their efforts and he had passed out.

"I know, I know," Chemo bit his lip, "I'm doing the best I can."

There was the sound of rotors closing in and Prophet could see the snow being kicked up by the wind they produced.

"There's CASEVAC…" Prophet pointed to the spot where the chopper marked with a distinct red plus on a white field was touching down, "Let's go."

By then the rest of the team had moved ahead, leaving Jay in the care of Prophet and Chemo, who would take the CASEVAC back to base with their wounded teammate. Chemo guessed the other SAM sites had been disabled, else the chopper wouldn't have made it so far. Medics and doctors stood at the door to the heli while a couple soldiers stepped out to cover Chemo and Prophet as the carefully carried Jay onboard.

They were in the air in a matter of seconds and the doctors were instantly at work, cutting away the rest of Jay's uniform, left to keep him somewhat warm in the frigid outdoors of Russia.

Prophet watched tensely, gnawing on his lip and wringing his hands, but stood out of the way, even though he couldn't see what they were doing to him. He waited and prayed to the God he wasn't entirely sure he believed in, leaning and stretching every so often to try and get a look at Jay.

When the doctors finally moved back they were nearly back at base and Prophet nearly let out a choked sob at the sight of Jay. There was a tube down his throat with a bag on one end, one of the medics was slowly squeezing and releasing it, and a line of stitches over his abdomen, but his chest was rising and falling rhythmically now and a little color had returned to his face. Prophet moved forward slowly and gently took Jay's hand.

"He's freezing…" Prophet commented idly.

The medic pumping the bag nodded, "He's lost a lot of blood and was exposed to sub-zero temperatures for quite a while. He'll live, but we can't promise a full recovery…"

Prophet's shoulders slumped and he nodded. The chopper was landing now and Jay would be whisked away any moment. He let go of Jay's hand reluctantly, but followed the team to the infirmary.

He paced in the lobby, Chemo having taken his gear for him, until Doc came out and stopped him.

"There was a lot of damage to his diaphragm, it'll be a while before he can breathe properly. Took some shrapnel to his arms and face, nothing to serious there. He'll live. About how long would you say he wasn't breathing for?"

"I don't know, it felt like hours…" Prophet responded, "Can I see him?"

Doc nodded, "Not sure when he'll wake up, he's on a ventilator at the moment, we'll replace it with an oxygen mask when he wakes up," he explained as he turned to lead Prophet to where Jay was resting, he stopped outside o8f the glass door of the ICU, "I have to warn you, there's a chance of irreversible brain damage. It depends on how long he was without oxygen. We'll know when he wakes up."

Prophet nodded and Doc left. Prophet pushed the door open and sighed at the sight of Jay. He was still pale, but looked better than he had when they'd brought him in, aside from the tube down his throat and the IV drips and wires and sensors keeping track of his vitals. They'd cleaned his face of dirt and, consequently, the makeup Jay used to hide the dark circles under his eyes. Prophet sank down in the chair beside the bed.

Gale sat back in his seat with an accomplished sigh, he'd managed to get a hold of MacTavish, who was now sending Nikoli after him and Johnson. All they had to do was wait and hope that the Russians wouldn't come and investigate.

Prophet opened his eyes slowly, having fallen asleep in the chair next to Jay after setting up a playlist of orchestral music to play. His brow furrowed at the sight of a husky resting its head on his knee.

"Tip?" Prophet questioned and the dog looked up at him and appeared to be smiling.

Prophet looked up to see two women standing there, one much shorter than the other, "Rea? Sky? What are you guys doing here?"

Reagan, the taller of the two women wore a grin, "Hey Nate! We got a call from a friend of yours and we decided you needed some company. Besides, Alaska is cold…"

Prophet chuckled and ruffled the fur between Tip's ears, "Well I'm glad to see you two, but Tip really shouldn't be in here," he commented with a glance to Jay, who was looking significantly better.

Skylar, quiet, short, and shy, shuffled forward to take Tip's leash from the floor and lead her back towards the door, "I'll wait outside with her," she commented, before leaving and standing right outside with the dog.

"So, you going to introduce me or?" Reagan asked, gesturing to the sleeping man.

Prophet rolled his eyes, "This is Jay, he's a medic."

"And your boyfriend?" Reagan questioned, nodding at their hands.

Prophet was still, very gently, holding one of Jay's hands. He was quiet a moment, simply looking at Jay for a while.

"I think so…" He finally answered.

"What do you mean 'you think so'? You either are or you aren't."

Nathan shook his head, "He was hurt, bad. He's scared. We're working on it."

Reagan nodded her understanding, "I see."

There was a quiet moan and they both looked down at Jay. He started jerking and Prophet shot up to his feet, taking a better grip on Jay's hand.

"Yell for Doc!" he shouted over his shoulder at Reagan as he pressed Jay's shoulder down gently.

Only a few seconds later Doc was pushing him back, telling him to calm down.

"What's wrong with him?" Prophet questioned.

"Nothing, he's fine. He's just bucking the vent, it's not exactly comfortable. He's starting to wake up," Doc explained, "but I'm gonna have to ask you to step out for a moment," he added, gesturing to the door.

Prophet bit his lip, and looked at Jay, who was still jerking, and left quietly. Doc pulled the curtain closed over the glass wall and door.

"What happened?" Skylar asked nervously, petting Tip.

Prophet shook his head, "Doc said he's starting to wake up."

Sky nodded, "Oh. That's good then. I'm glad," she smiled.

Prophet nodded.

Reagan nudged him with her shoulder, "You alright, Nate?"

Nathan looked at her, "Yeah, I'm alright…"

Reagan looked at him skeptically, "I don't believe you," she commented as Tip walked away from Skylar and laid down on Nathan's feet, "and neither does Tip."

Nathan sighed and knelt down to scratch Tip behind the ears, "I guess I'm just nervous…"

"About?" Skylar asked curiously.

"You know you can talk to us, Nate," Reagan insisted.

Nathan sighed and sat back on the floor, still petting Tip, "He wasn't breathing for a while, Doc says there's a chance of brain damage…"

"But didn't Doc say he'd be fine?" Reagan questioned.

Nathan nodded, "I know he will be, I'm just worried about what'll happen if he does happen to have brain damage."

"Why?"

Prophet shook his head, "Not really for me to share."

Skylar frowned sadly and hugged Nathan's arm, "Everyone's gotta vent somehow, you're not exempt just because of that confidentiality mess. You can talk to us, you know whatever you say will just stay between us."

Prophet sighed and shook his head.

Then Doc was opening the door and stepping out to join them, "He's awake. I have him on some pretty strong painkillers and gave him a light sedative to calm him down so I could take the vent out without hurting him. He might be a little out of it, but he's responsive if you want to see him."

Yep. That's it. We'll see about that brain damage and Gale's pick-up next chapter. Soo… Yeah. That's it. Reagan and Skye are Coffee Monsta's creation given in part to Prophet's back-story that she's writing. So big thanks to her for that. And Tip is the service dog he trained himself and ended up keeping out of both want and necessity (at the time, he doesn't really /need/ her anymore, but she still helps him with anxiety and shit).

Thanks for Reading, Fly High Aim Higher

~Spitfire out