Author's note: Huzzah! A second chapter! And happy St. Patty's! First off, there is some language in here, so I'm sorry if it offends! Also, I apologize if some find this chapter a little slow as things start to rev up, but I hope it's still enjoyable. Thanks for stopping by and sticking around, and stay healthy out there, folks. Healthy vibes to you all!
Chapter Two
All Jaz could do was stare. Stare at Adam as he slowly pushed through unconsciousness. She watched his expression tighten with confusion, and then it slowly shifted into pain.
She didn't know what she could say to him in that moment. Was he even coherent enough to understand?
Fuck, she hoped he was. Incoherent Adam scared her more than anything, and being out here, in the depths of nothingness . . .
"Top?" McG urged softly, having enough courage to coax Adam into the daylight.
Adam let out another groan, shifting a bit. Then stopping as he tightened his jaw.
Anxious, Jaz looked up at the cliffside, grimacing at the height of it. Forget the stab wound. The slice to the thigh. Falling from that height alone would hurt. Everywhere.
"Top, you with us?" McG tried again, this time settling a hand on Adam's shoulder.
The team leader was slowly coming to his senses. Inch by inch. Clawing his way into the light.
Then he opened his eyes.
Jaz took a deep breath, forcing herself to look at the pained, confused blue peering up at the sky. Adam was starting to breathe faster, his rough landing catching up to his brain and nerves.
McG took hold of Adam's wrist again, keeping steady track of the blond's pulse. "How're you feeling?"
Adam didn't answer. Instead, his eyes slid to find McG's, his lungs still pumping shallowly for air, hitching when his ribs protested the movement.
"Come on, Top. You've gotta give me something to work with here."
Adam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get a handle on things as a shaky hand weakly inched its way over his chest, as if it would somehow ease his throbbing ribs. "H'rts," he bit out through clenched teeth, opening his eyes again as his brows stitched together in angry agony.
Jaz could see Adam's hands starting to shake. She'd seen it before. Adrenaline, showing up a little too late.
After a surge of clarity, his eyes were growing mildly foggy again, as if his mind could no longer keep up with the massive influx of angry pain signals.
And after everything they did, all Jaz and McG could do was be a comforting presence. McG knew Adam would never consent to pain meds in the field, unless his discomfort was somehow hindering the team. And with everything wrapped and splinted, there was nothing else they could do to minimize this agony.
Helplessly, the two sat beside him as he shook, already deathly pale and unable to stop his adrenaline-fed quivering as it sparked waves of torturous agony.
Jaz looked at McG, startled to see him looking back.
"We need to start a blood transfusion."
She knew what that meant. She knew what it meant the first time McG said it. Jaz was a match, so she'd have to spare her own blood.
But honestly, it wasn't even a question to her.
"Then let's do it," she answered, dark eyes fiery with determination.
McG starting pulling supplies from his pack, prepping as quickly as he could manage. He was eyeing Adam's shivering limbs, pressing his lips in a tight line. It wouldn't be easy to get a line in, but the medic had dealt with worse. And he wasn't going to start pulling Adam off this mountain without a little extra juice to keep him more alive.
Because, hell, the man was too pale.
In a fleeting moment, McG wondered if he'd packed the abdominal wound enough. Then he wondered if the packing job would last long enough to get real medical help.
Then he remembered he couldn't waste time worrying about things he knew he'd done properly. Even if it was Top. Even if they were stuck on this damn mountainside trying to put blood back into his body.
McG glanced at Adam's face again. Adam was fading, but not enough to actually dip back into unconsciousness.
This was agonizing.
There was nothing more painful to McG than watching someone he cared about constantly in pain. At this point, he wished Adam would pass out again, if only to give him a moment of reprieve.
Because when they started moving off these mountains . . . it wasn't going to get any better.
Jaz's arm was already out, waiting for the transfusion, and McG spared a moment to be grateful for his teammates' undying loyalty.
It took him only a moment to set up the transfusion, inserting one needle in the crook of Jaz's elbow and holding Adam's arm's firmly as he found the vein and inserted another needle. Once it was set up, he sat back to watch the blood flow. And still, he couldn't smooth away the wrinkled anxiety in his chest.
"How're you doing, Top?" he asked calmly, determined to stay strong for Jaz, even if Adam wasn't aware enough to notice.
Adam blinked harshly, uselessly trying to get a handle on his shivering body, his good arm still gingerly draped over his chest. "'M ok'y."
A lie. A downright lie.
But McG wasn't surprised. It just meant that there was enough of Adam to be stubborn. And strangely, it offered some comfort.
The medic patted Adam's shoulder. "We'll get you down this mountain in no time. No sweat."
McG knew that wasn't even close to the truth. It was going to be a painful trek. A slow one. With Preach incapacitated and Amir injured, the best chance Adam had of getting off that mountain was McG and Jaz. And McG was one of the first to say that Jaz was strong as hell, but Adam wasn't a lightweight.
In times like this, McG was realistic.
"How are we getting him off this mountain?" Jaz hissed, hoping Adam was too preoccupied to hear her.
"With his injuries, I don't think I can carry him on my shoulders. You and I will just have to support him between us," McG explained, already looking grim.
Jaz stared. Tracing the tight lines on McG's face.
This was bad.
This was really bad.
"But with—"
"I know," McG huffed. "It's going to suck, but it's the only option we have."
Jaz swallowed her response, dropping her gaze to the needle in her arm. "Do you think this will be enough for the hike back?" she asked quietly. "What if he loses more blood?"
Her eyes found McG's again, and with a simple look, she knew McG had already considered the possibility.
"I'll give more if I have to," she volunteered.
McG shook his head. "I don't want to do that unless it's absolutely necessary."
Jaz could easily hear the silent, But if it's that bad, we might have to. Her heart stuttered.
There was a faint crackle over the comms. "Preach is starting to get a handle on things," Amir reported evenly. "Still a bit unbalanced and disoriented, but I think he should be good to go."
With a deep breath, Jaz looked to the sky. "Good to hear," she replied. "We've got Top on a transfusion. Once we're done, we're going to start heading down."
There was a tight silence on the other end, and Jaz could almost feel Amir's angry helplessness. She locked eyes with McG, sharing a knowing look.
"What's the damage?"
McG took a moment to collect himself. "Stab wound to the lower right abdomen, deep laceration to the thigh, cracked ribs, a possible fractured arm . . . and a possible fractured leg. And what looks to be a mild head wound. And I'm sure there's going to be a lot of bruising from the fall." He paused, looking forlornly over his fallen leader. Adam was too focused on trying to breathe through throbs and spikes of pain bouncing through his right side. "Looks like he fell on his side. Amazing he survived the fall, really."
Silent seconds ticked by, dousing them all in a shadow of defeat.
"I guess we count our blessings," Amir offered, sounding both irritated and beat down at the same time.
"Command, we're going to do what we have to to get Top and Preach off this mountain, unless you have something else to offer," McG muttered, settling into a focused stare on Adam's bloody abdomen.
"We trust you completely. Do whatever you need to," Patricia answered, immediately falling back into silence.
This was so surreal, but not a complete surprise. Something like this could've happened on any mission. It could've happened in China. In Tehran.
They'd just managed to dodge the absolute worst outcomes.
Not knowing what to say, the team sat in silence, letting the minutes slip by. Praying, hoping for a good outcome.
"Okay, let's call it for now," McG announced, gesturing to the transfusion setup. "Then we'll get the hell out of here."
Jaz nodded, waiting patiently as McG safely removed the line from both her and Adam. An uneasy feeling started to burrow into the pit of her stomach. Things were bad enough now, with Adam pale and quivering on the rocky path, his enemy lying dead at his feet. Moving him?
She tensed.
McG did a final check, looking over the splints and bandages to ensure they were secure. "How're you doing, Top?"
Adam didn't answer right away, fading in and out of the overwhelming pain and the conscious world. His body still wouldn't let him sleep. Even when he did answer, all he could manage was a small nod.
"Amir, we'll meet you two at the fork, got it?" McG relayed, clenching and unclenching his fists. Jaz noticed but chose not to say anything.
"Got it."
The medic looked at Jaz, both sharing a quietly fear-filled gaze. "Okay, Jaz, you take his left. I'll take his right. On three, we get him up."
She nodded curtly, sure speaking would betray her feelings, then got into position. McG had elected to take Adam's injured side, something she was immensely grateful for.
"Alright. One. Two. Three."
Together, they lifted Adam by the shoulders and arms, pulling up slowly but steadily. Between clenched teeth, Adam let out a grating growl, as if he was working far too hard to keep all his agony within. Jaz watched all the color drain from his face, and for a moment, she panicked that he was going to pass out.
But he didn't. His head lolled, and he breathed even harder than before, limbs still shaking from adrenaline. But he didn't pass out. Somehow, he stayed awake.
In an instant, she could feel all of Adam's fight fade, and his body just seemed to sag. The angry strength disappeared, replaced instead by a weary, pleading pain.
This was worse than before. This was so much worse.
"Top?" she asked anxiously, watching his tired guise age several years.
He just shook his head, having no strength for anything else.
She gripped him tighter, determined to stay strong.
McG steeled himself for the long journey ahead, ensuring his hold was firm and steady. "Okay, Top, you just focus on moving that right leg. I'll take care of the left."
"You've got this," Jaz crooned, taking a step to help Adam along. He took a step, trying to push himself onward. But she could feel just how feeble he was. He had nothing left to give, and yet, he still pushed.
Slowly, she helped him take each careful step as McG fully supported Adam's left side as a human crutch. As they trekked up the slope to the fork, Adam kept grunting in pain, his white teeth bared as he did his best to get through each jolt of pain from every tiny stride.
His head could barely keep itself up, and his muscles now shook more from exhaustion than adrenaline, shivering against his teammates' support.
And it had taken them forty-five minutes to get up the mountain at a relatively fast pace.
Without thinking too much about it, Jaz shifted her hand from Adam's wrist to his hand, trying to offer what silent support she could. His fingers tightened around hers, but they weren't nearly as strong as she hoped. For the hundredth time, she wondered how they were going to get him back to safety.
"Take your time," she muttered, hoping he didn't feel like he had to hurry for them. Because if it took all day—if he could keep going all day—it wouldn't even faze her.
As the chilling, howling wind whipped around them, she could still hear his harsh, weary breaths. Air scraped out of his lungs with ferocity, trying to keep up with the demand for oxygen. Every breath split the air, punctuating the empty, deserted sounds of the mountainside.
And for as long as she'd live, Jaz would never forget that sound.
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Amir managed to get Preach to the fork, helping the larger man balance as the two of them stumbled over stones and uneven rock. He was relieved that Preach had come to at least some of his senses—even if it was only enough for Preach to mostly walk on his own.
"You good, Preach?"
Preach swallowed, frowning a little as closed his eyes. "Good enough."
Amir brought them to a stop, looking down the other side of the fork.
And he promptly froze.
Jaz and McG were slowly making their way up the incline, a battered Top between them. And the very sight of Top sent a buzz of horror down Amir's spine.
Nothing could've prepared him for the image. He'd known it was bad, but he'd somehow managed to distract himself from the very real terror of it all by focusing on Preach.
But actually seeing it now. It made it real. Undeniable.
Adam was white as a sheet, stiffly wedged between McG and Jaz. His hands shook slightly, and his right side and thigh were smeared generously with blood. His leg and arm were splinted, and bruises marred the side of his face and what was visible of one hand. Amir winced to think what was hidden under Adam's fatigues.
The worst of it, though, was Adam's expression. His brows were pulled up in pain and exhaustion, and his features were tight and lined with agony. Somehow, he looked so unwholly like Adam Dalton, Amir wondered briefly if he was truly looking at his team leader.
"How's he doing?" Amir asked quietly as his teammates approached. McG just offered a small shake of his head, his jaw tight as he carefully supported Adam over uneven paths.
Being so near, Amir could now hear Adam's small noises of pain as they traversed the mountainside trail. Amir felt sick.
"Let's get the hell out of here," McG huffed, sparing Preach a good look. "You're looking better."
Preach nodded beside Amir, swaying some as he leaned on his smaller teammate. "Not quite 100%, but I'll make it," he muttered quietly, giving an uneasy glance at Adam. "Let's just . . . get him out of here."
"Agreed," Jaz grumbled.
With some difficulty, McG and Jaz guided Adam past their other teammates. As they struggled over a particularly rocky outcropping, the foot of Adam's bad leg scuffed a stone, eliciting a sharp cry from the blond. McG acted quickly, trying to raise Adam's injured side a little higher, sparking another yell of agony.
The team stiffened, feeling his pain.
This was going to be a long journey.
