A/N: First of today's updates...

Thank you to the awesome reviewers, as always, you guys rock.

Read.


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It felt like the ocean, rocking gently back and forth, the easy sway of the tide careening Jimmy out to sea. And then a large wave crashed into him, and jostled him violently. His eyes fluttered open, light exploded across his vision and he groaned, closed his eyes again.

"Careful, Lourdes, take it easy on those bumps," a sweet, familiar voice spoke, and then a soft, smooth hand touched Jimmy's forehead.

He experimented at opening his eyes again; focused momentarily on the dark featured face peering intently down at him, and then slipped his eyes shut once more.

"Well, look who's back..." Dr. Glass cooed, "How you feeling, Jimmy?"

"…nm…" he murmured, it hurt just to attempt talking, and when he finally found the strength to form words, his voice was rasped and barely above a whisper, "…like someone blew me up."

"That would have been you, sweetie," Dr. Glass told him, with a note of mild-humor, "Can you sit up a little? I've got water here."

Jimmy nodded, sort of, then attempted moving, grunting at the effort. Dr. Glass did most of the work, slipping her arm under his shoulders and lifting him up. She touched a glass to his bottom lip and he opened his mouth instinctively, gratefully accepting the water within.

"Small sips," Dr. Glass softly advised.

A couple wonderful mouths-full later, Dr. Glass took away the water and eased Jimmy back down. He made another attempt at opening his eyes, only wincing slightly at the sting of light, and slowly his surroundings came into focus. He was in the back of the medic van, laying securely on one of the beds, and they seemed to be moving. Dr. Glass was starting to check his vitals. He rolled his head to the side to get better bearings, and a lump caught in his throat, his heart swelling to a point where he feared it might explode.

In a seat not too far away, Ben sat sleeping, arms folded over his chest, features pulled into a hard frown.

"He hasn't left your side since they brought you in," Dr. Glass explained quietly, fingers on Jimmy's wrist, counting the pulses there, "I've tried kicking him out, but you know he can be almost as stubborn as you sometimes. You've been unconscious for a few days…which is probably the most rest you've ever given your body…and he hasn't eaten in almost that long. I brought him something this morning; he nibbled at it a bit. He wanted to be here when you woke up but the poor thing passed out, I don't know how long he's been going without sleep…I swear, he thinks he's invincible sometimes. I can wake him if you want…"

"No," Jimmy whispered like the susurration of dried leaves on a breezy autumn day, "Leave him." He gazed for a few seconds at Ben sitting there, slumbering peacefully, and let the warmth and comfort of that long desired presence swell through him, "Right now, this is enough." His eyes closed, darkness overcoming him once more, as he mumbled, "It's enough."

When Jimmy awoke again, the medic van had stopped moving and the light was low, he assumed it was late in the evening and the 2nd Mass was setting up camp. Nearby he could hear Dr. Glass and Ben speaking in low voices, they were having a light-hearted discussion about Ben's father from the sounds of it. It was a nice change, Jimmy thought, most of the time those two were in deep concern for the missing professor. Maybe enough time had passed now that the loss stung less.

Jimmy wondered if he had remained lost how long it would have been before Ben talked so lightly about him.

He scowled, dismissed the thought. He struggled his way up to a sitting position, and tugged out the IV attached to his arm. He found his clothes on the counter nearby, someone had cleaned them, patched them up best they could. He dressed hastily, pulling his shirt on over his head as he exited the medic van.

Jimmy limped through camp, after a few minutes he brought a hand up to clutch his stinging shoulder. A few people stopped what they were doing as he passed, eying him in stun, surprise, some even called out to him, but he ignored them, striding determinedly as far away from that van and from those people, from their warmth, their happiness, their kindness, their familiarity, as far as he could get until he finally slipped to his knees behind one of the trucks and leaned back against its side panel, tears streaming unstoppable down his cheeks.

There, in the dark, alone, he sobbed wretchedly, clutching himself tight and shuddering from the force of his sorrow. He couldn't even recall why he was crying.

Was it from the days of unbearable pain that he'd miraculously managed to persevere through, or the pain that still remained ripping his body apart from the inside out?

Was it the relief of being back at camp, or the heart-wrenching realization that it didn't matter that he was back…that otherwise he would have just been another face gone in the 2nd Mass, another casualty of war?

Maybe it was everything that went as far back as that little boy he couldn't save.

Or maybe it was because that little boy was just another name on the long list of people he could not save.

Or maybe it was simply that, although he was alive, he still felt like he should be dead.

Eventually the tears dried up and Jimmy knew he couldn't sit there wallowing forever. He picked himself up and made his way back through camp, running into Hal halfway towards the medic van.

"What the hell, Jimmy?" Hal demanded haughtily, "It isn't enough you worry everyone sick for days thinking you're either dead, dying, or just never going to be found, as soon as you wake up you got to disappear and send everyone into another panic?"

Jimmy tilted his head down, shrugged slightly but said nothing, his expression remaining apathetic, as the older boy followed him back towards the medic van. Dr. Glass met them there, putting a hand on Jimmy's shoulder and guiding him inside, sitting him down on the bed.

"I'll go find Ben," Hal volunteered, then to Jimmy grumbled, "I swear, the stress you've been causing him these past few days…I ought to smack you…"

"Can I just request that you wait until he's fully healed before you do anything like that?" Dr. Glass half-teased, waving Hal out of the van and turning her stern look on Jimmy, "I know it's cramped in here, and Lourdes isn't always the best of drivers, but you could've mentioned to me that you wanted to stretch your legs a bit before taking off like that."

Jimmy's gaze trailed the van floor absently. He chewed his inner cheek, his palms pressed into the side of the bed, his shoulders slumped. Dr. Glass sighed, she walked towards him, delicately brushed the hair from his face. He flinched involuntarily at the touch, said nothing.

"I don't mean to scold. Everyone was worried is all," she told him kindly, "It took us two days to find you so the thought of losing you again…"

"Sorry," Jimmy croaked out, though it barely sounded like a word, air knocked from his lungs by her comment.

They had searched for him for two days. He didn't know how to feel. It was foolish. It was stupid. It put everyone at risk, staying in one less than ideal camp for more than a night, and all to recover what exactly? If something had happened, if the Skitters had swarmed the 2nd Mass while they sat vulnerable, trying to find him – little, worthless him – it would have been his fault. Jimmy closed his eyes, drew his breath in slow, let it out easy. He was such a fuck up.

Dr. Glass began to check Jimmy's bandages and vitals, smiling faintly at his apology. His shoulder was re-stitched, he kind of wondered how long that would last, and from the feel of it, she'd stitched up his thigh as well. His body didn't feel as acutely sore as it had while trekking through the forest, and his muscles were all lax, so he assumed she had him on a painkiller of some kind, it certainly explained why he had slept so much when he typically couldn't manage two straight hours in a night. The amount of bandages she had him wrapped in, he looked like a mummy.

"You're something of a hero to everyone in the 2nd Mass right now," Dr. Glass confided. Jimmy grimaced; he ducked his head down to hide the contortion of pain.

"I'm not one," he choked out, when he had control of his emotions again, "Farthest thing…"

Dr. Glass didn't reply, moving around the bed. She instructed him to lift his shirt and he did so, the motion not exactly easy given the tenderness and fatigue of his muscles. She ran her finger tips gingerly across his shoulder blades, examining the bruising and swelling, clucking her tongue reprovingly.

"What about Ben?" Jimmy whispered suddenly, a vice on his heart as soon as the name fell from his tongue and touched his ears.

"He's fine," Dr. Glass said, misunderstanding the question, "He didn't have as much trouble as you getting those explosives in the tower, came back with a few scratches, but nothing big. I think the worst thing for him has been the stress and heartache. He was really worried about you."

"He a hero too?" Jimmy clarified. Dr. Glass paused in her inspection, her fingers lingering along one particularly colorful bruise.

"Everyone is grateful of what he's done for the 2nd Mass," she carefully answered. Which meant 'no'. Dr. Glass indicated with a ginger touch to Jimmy's hands that he could put his shirt back down and he did so, steadying himself through the pain of that motion with a deep breath. He closed his eyes tightly.

"Dr. Glass," he began, trying to strengthen his next words with purpose.

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Do you think…" Jimmy faltered, bit his inner cheek, clenched the edge of the bed tight enough to turn his knuckles white, "Do you think if it had been Ben out there…do you think…that they would have searched for him…that they would have…would have waited…for two days?"

Dr. Glass hesitated too long, and before she could find the right answer, the door to the medic van opened and Ben stepped in, his eyes locking on Jimmy. Instantly, Jimmy dropped his gaze to the floor, too many emotions slamming into him at once at the sight of the other boy. Moments passed in silence.

Then Dr. Glass cleared her throat, walked towards the cabinets, opened one and took stock of the medicine inside.

Ben walked further into the van, letting the door drop shut behind him. He hovered a few feet from Jimmy, arms folded over his chest, as though he was afraid to come any closer. His eyes scoured the floor, perhaps, searching for guidance written there.

"You woke up," Ben noted, quietly, pained, added, "And took off."

Jimmy nodded, said nothing.

"So…what happened?" Ben questioned.

Jimmy shrugged.

Ben shook his head, made a noise like a low growl in the back of his throat, and shifted his stance, agitation evident in his quick, choppy movements.

"You know, this is exactly why I told you not to trust that Franklin guy," he started heatedly.

"Ben," Jimmy whispered warning, he glanced up, finally meeting those intense brown eyes with his own cold blue.

Ben shot a quick look at Dr. Glass and, noticing the glance, she made a show of busying herself in the far cabinet. Then Ben stepped forward, caught Jimmy's wrists lightly in his fingertips and drew the other boy into a tentative kiss that refused to let go. It fluttered through Jimmy, entered his chest, a sharpened stake that split his heart in twain.

The emotions were too much, he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. There were so many things he wanted – needed – to say but he couldn't form the words, he couldn't even begin to fathom what they sounded like and the pain of it was too much, he feared he would break. He rose a hand, curled it in the front of Ben's t-shirt, gingerly pushed Ben away, ducking his head down to avoid seeing the expression he knew would be on Ben's face, an expression he didn't have the strength to soothe away at that moment, too boggled down with his own head rush of darkness.

"I should report to Weaver," Jimmy mumbled softly, he tilted his head to the side, glanced at the doctor sidelong, she was now peeking at the boys curiously, "Dr. Glass, can I go?"

"I suppose," Dr. Glass answered judiciously, "For a short time. I want you to spend the night here for a few more days. Take it easy on that leg and don't push yourself too hard, Jimmy. Oh, and stop by the food stores, get a juice. You're a little low on nutrients and now that you're awake, I can take you off the IV and put some real food in you."

Jimmy exited the van again, Ben trailing after, the door shut noisily behind them.

"I'll come with you to see Weaver," Ben volunteered.

"No," Jimmy said and he didn't need to see Ben to know how the other boy winced at the sharp edge of that reply, but he pushed away the ache in his own heart, drawing himself up, striding across camp with as much determination in his movements as he could muster.


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A/N: Yeah, I know, not the sweet (...lust-filled) reunion you were hoping for. I have a reason for it, I promise, you might not like my reason, but I have one.

Got to tie up some loose ends in the last chapter, and then I swear, last three chapters are all Ben/Jimmy.

I would love some feedback, but othewise, go read the next chapter!