Chapter 4

Connor hated feeling this vulnerable. As if it wasn't enough he had somehow (and he still couldn't exactly remember what the hell happened) managed to fall off of a cliff. He had to get hurt and then Ethan had to risk his own neck to climb down. Now they were stuck, in the rain, on a ledge. And Connor couldn't even find enough energy to be of some help.

Ethan got down... he was most likely able to climb up as well. And if Connor hadn't been injured, he might've been able to do the same. Instead of just being a useless lump.

He lay still while Ethan's fingers ran over his scalp, checking for cuts and bumps. He did find a few, Connor was sure, because his headache ratcheted up a level at the touch, but it still wasn't too bad. Things had felt for the lack of better word 'hazy' ever since he came to. Either it was the concussion or the adrenaline. If it was the latter, Connor dreaded the moment when the pain would really hit. He hoped it won't be before rescue arrived. If nothing else, he was sure he could keep his adrenaline on high for a while... all he needed to do was take a peek to his left or upwards at the height that lounged between them and safe ground.

His heart skipped a beat and he turned his focus back on Ethan. The man was drenched, water dripping down his face, washing away the blood from the cut on his cheek so it was now barely visible. Connor could see small shivers running through his body and wanted to offer up the blanket, but then the wind touched the skin where Ethan had pulled back the blanket to continue his exam and Connor felt his teeth rattle. His left arm shook and it was a struggle to keep it upwards, especially when Ethan moved around.

As if it was any good, Connor thought grimly. He could feel warm blood seeping through the pressure bandage, just as he could feel himself getting more and more woozy. He closed his eyes, to keep the rain out as well as try and stop the world from spinning.

"Stay awake buddy," Ethan said and Connor grimaced.

He felt petulant and kept his eyes closed, but of course Ethan moved down towards his chest and started palpating his ribs. Connor's eyes shot open very quickly as he found one that was definitely broken.

"Sorry," Ethan muttered as Connor hissed out a curse, his arms instinctively curling over his chest.

"Whoa, no. Keep that arm up," he admonished, pulling the appendage away and into the right position.

"That fucking hurt," Connor uttered, pain mixing with anger. He wasn't even sure who he was angry at, most likely himself at this point, but Ethan was the only one around and the one adding to his discomfort at this point. It was hard not to bite his head off at the smallest twinge.

"I know. Sorry. Just want to make sure there's no more breaks. Wouldn't want a rib pierce a lung here."

Connor grunted in silent acknowledgment. He didn't want that either. He didn't want to appear like a cry baby either. So he bit down a complaint and gave a sharp nod.

"Just be quick," he said, resolving himself not to make a sound. And not to push Ethan off the ledge if he pushed down on that rib one more fucking time.

Ethan seemed to get the memo at least, leaving Connor's ribs be after a short moment. Connor thought he would feel some relief, but then Ethan started in on his abdomen and pelvis, making extra sure there was no sign of internal bleeding.

"So far so good," Ethan said, shooting Connor a thoughtful look. "Let me know if the pain gets worse though."

"Why, you planning some cliff side surgery?" Connor asked, trying to catch his breath and calm down his racing heart.

"Only if you can assist," Ethan retorted then resumed his exam. That's when Connor realized that his hopes of getting back up with some assistance were utterly foolish. He wasn't sure how he didn't notice until then, but his right ankle was busted. Ethan already had to struggle to untie the laces and despite his best efforts to stay silent, Connor actually cursed up a storm when the boot was taken off his foot. At least it was in Spanish. And a bit in Arabic.

"Sorry man. I will have to splint this somehow, but can't leave the shoe on or the swelling would cut off your circulation.

Connor gave a tight nod, his right hand curled into a fist and pressed against the cold and sharp rock at his side. Trying to focus on the pressure was better than to pay mind to what Ethan was doing.

He wasn't sure what the man used for a splint. Most likely something from that magical backpack of his. Funny how the man had everything prepared, yet according to his words, they got lost on a basic trail.

Connor really hoped at least that wasn't his own fault somehow.

He also hoped that Will and Natalie would bring help soon. Preferably before Ethan will have to make good on his word and actually try and do some backhanded surgery. Connor could handle stitches, but he drew a line at outdoors torture. He wasn't that much of a masochist.

"Alright, this should do for a while," Ethan said, settling Connor's now wrapped up ankle on top of his boot, slightly elevated. It did put Connor at an awkward angle, pressed all that more onto the rock wall. Feeling the cold seeping through whatever part of skin wasn't hidden under the blanket.

"All in all, for the fall you took, could have been worse," Ethan said and gave Connor an encouraging smile. Connor did not feel lucky or encouraged though and the look on his face must've telegraphed that, because Ethan's smile dropped.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I fell off a cliff... and then you beat me up," Connor said but the weariness took some bite off his voice. Ethan just nodded.

"Sorry about that. Here, I think I can give you some Tylenol. I'm afraid I didn't stock up that well on meds."

"Nothing to knock me out?"

"I do have an epi-pen but I'd rather keep that as last resort," Ethan pulled out two extra strong Tylenol pills and a half empty water bottle. Connor made an attempt to sit up but was quickly halted, both by Ethan's hand and his own body protesting.

"Easy. I didn't find any spinal injury but you should try to keep as still as possible. Let me help."

Connor didn't have much of a choice. The thought of getting even the slightest relief from the discomfort beat his sense of pride. He let Ethan help him up a bit and was thankful, because even that small raise made him feel lightheaded.

"Here," Ethan put the pills into his shaking hand, but didn't give him the bottle, instead pressed it against his lips.

Connor drank, fighting down the urge to chug it all. Ethan must've known because he pulled the bottle back quickly.

"Let's leave something for later," he said, putting the bottle away as Connor settled back down, closing his eyes. He was spent. How the hell did such a miniscule effort make him feel as if he'd run a marathon? He didn't remember being in such a bad shape ever before.

He felt Ethan's fingers at his neck, then wrap around the wrist of his injured arm. Connor was too tired to open his eyes. That was until he felt the pressure bandage being tightened a bit more. He hissed and looked at Ethan.

The man had a contemplating look on his face, as far as Connor could tell. He didn't like it one bit.

"What?"

"The bleeding isn't stopping."

Connor felt his throat constrict a bit.

"I moved around. Few more minutes... it will stop."

Ethan shook his head.

"I don't think so. The cut is deep. I would try to clip off the artery, but I don't have the equipment for that... and this weather isn't helping."

Connor blinked. He understood what Ethan said, but his brain couldn't really work out the sense of it. Or what was the next possible step. Until Ethan pulled out a familiar looking item.

Connor balked.

"No."

"What?" Ethan paused, taken aback.

"Not gonna lose the hand," Connor said with more strength than he anticipated and tried to pull his arm out of Ethan's hold.

"What the hell are you talking about? It's a tourniquet, not a bone saw!"

Connor shook his head, cringing.

"If rescue doesn't come... in time..."

Ethan scowled, scooting a bit closer to Connor. Whether it was to get him under control or just to get away from the ledge, Connor wasn't sure. He didn't like it though.

"If they don't come in time, you have bigger issues than losing a hand!" Ethan snapped and perhaps he was right, but all Connor felt was anger and fear. His heart was thrumming and he felt trapped. There was no escape.

He shook his head, trying to inch away, but he was already plastered against the rock wall.

"I said no."

Ethan stared at him with disbelief. He opened his mouth, as if ready to scream, but he snapped it shut with a grimace. Ethan took a few calming breaths, shaking his own head.

"Look. I know your hands are important to you, what with being a surgeon. But there is no time to waste. Longer we wait, more blood you lose. I can't treat you for hypovolemic shock here. Two hours without risking any damage. That's plenty of time for the rescue to arrive."

Connor shook his head stubbornly. Something about the argument stirred his memories, back to what really landed them there.

He snorted.

"Now you don't need... patient consent?"

Ethan blinked.

"Are you serious?"

Connor glared. He wanted to shout and argue, but honestly he was glad he got enough oxygen as it was. Every breath jarred his broken rib and his heart just kept pumping faster in his chest.

"That procedure was life altering. The patient needed to know."

"It saved his... life! But it was almost... too late-" Connor had to pause, still glaring at Ethan, who somehow got hold of his wrist. "- cause you wanted a... signature!"

"He survived."

"Barely."

"And didn't end up suing us. Now what is your point exactly? Because if I remember, it was you who insisted his life was more important than his consent with the procedure."

Connor blinked.

What was his bloody point?

"They won't... get back in time," he tried once more.

"They will. And if not, we can try to save that arm somehow. But right now... my priority is to keep you alive. Your heart rate is already up and you are anemic. Please... don't fight me on this. I'd rather not have to wrestle you on a bloody ledge."

Connor looked Ethan in the eyes. Through the rain and his own blurry vision... he could still see the steely determination.

There was no strength left in him to fight Ethan off physically and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the man was right.

"Okay," he said, barely a whisper. But Ethan heard.

"Okay," the man said, his shoulders sagging in relief. He nodded, squeezing Connor's shoulder in support. "Let's get this done."

Connor knew it would hurt. Tourniquets weren't in common use at the hospital, not like these anyway and not without sedation but he had assisted during several emergencies outside the hospital where they saved lives. The patients never really appreciated the application of one though.

Now as he felt Ethan loop the tourniquet above the elbow joint he might've been gaining a new understanding for that sentiment. Connor watched Ethan pull the strap through the buckle twice, then start tightening it. At first it wasn't worse than a tight BP cuff. However, when Ethan twisted the windlass several times, Connor had to bite down on his tongue. It felt as if something was crushing his arm. And Connor knew the pain would only get worse as the circulation to his arm stops.

Ethan knew that as well. He tried to ease the mood, as he pulled out a sharpie.

"You're lucky it's me here and not Will. I wouldn't trust him not to draw you an extra mustache or worse on your forehead," he joked as he carefully drew a small T on Connor's forehead, along with the time.

"Should I... ask for a mirror?" Connor tried to joke back, but he was still trying to get a handle on the new discomfort that was his left arm.

"Nah. You're safe with me," Ethan put the sharpie away then checked the radial pulse in the arm. After a moment he inspected the gauze covering the wound. Connor wasn't sure if the bleeding had stopped, but when his fingers begun tingling, he was pretty sure that tourniquet was tight enough.

It was a pity the Tylenol didn't seem to do a thing for that.

"Now what?" he asked as he felt Ethan move around. It was a tight space and the ex-marine had to maneuver carefully, but he managed to settle himself behind Connor. He sat awkwardly, back leaning against the wall and legs partially hanging off the ledge. He was facing the view, looking right down at the camp. Gently, he helped Connor to move a bit so now he could rest his head on Ethan's thigh. It was a bit more comfortable than the ground, even though it felt strange. But Connor was too tired to complain.

"Now we wait," Ethan said finally settling down, "and hope that Will and Natalie will come through."

"One of us should've stayed behind," Will grumbled, brushing the rain out of his eyes. Luckily there was still enough daylight that they could follow the trail that supposedly led back down towards the campsite.

"What good would that do?" Natalie asked, though her voice quivered. She was surreptitiously looking at the cell phone, trying to shield it from the rain but also searching for that signal to appear. Seeing as they were heading down into the valley instead of up climbing a tree, it was less likely they would get lucky.

"What if Ethan fell too?" Will exclaimed, stressed. Under other circumstances, Natalie would be the one trying to diffuse him. To find out what he was feeling, to try and make things better. Right now though she was too worried herself to be able to calm down Will.

"What if he needs help with Connor? We don't even know if Connor is alive or-"

"Stop it!" Natalie snapped, turning around angrily facing Will. "Just... stop! I'm worried too, but this isn't helping either of us. Especially not Connor."

Will's jaw moved, teeth grinding as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. In the end he let out a frustrated guttural sound. He took in a deep breath then let it out. Giving her a short nod.

He appeared at least a bit calmer and Natalie wished she could do the same, but knew that wouldn't work for her. She did try before, when things were bad. Letting out steam with screaming in the middle of the woods held its appeal certainly, but she was afraid they might still be in hearing distance from Ethan. Last thing she wanted was to make him worry about them as well.

"We need to keep moving," Will noted, nodding up towards the sky.

"The clouds seem to be thicker," Natalie mumbled. While the rain seemed to be abating some, the wind was picking up and the temperature felt colder. Though that might've just been caused by their clothes getting wet.

"I really hope the storm will pass. Not sure a medevac would fly in this weather."

Natalie's blood ran cold. The idea that even if they managed to get a hold of someone they might not be able to come in time because of the weather was worrisome. She shook her head.

"No... they would come. This is just rain. They can fly in rain," she said, reassuring herself as much as Will.

"Let's hope so," Will muttered, squinting ahead. "Is that a signpost?"

Natalie sped up as Will rushed forward.

It indeed was a sign, right in the middle of a crossroad. With the dark sky and rain it looked rather ominous, but also like a godsend.

"Two miles to the camp," Will spoke, frowning, looking down the road one of the arrows pointed to. "Ten miles to the town."

"We just need to make it to the camp. Two miles isn't that bad," Natalie tried to keep positive, though she realized that right now every minute counted. They needed to speed it up, because arriving to the camp was just the first part of the rescue.

"Right. You can make it. Here, take the map-" Will was pushing the map at her and Natalie was trying to figure out what was happening.

"What?" she snapped, pushing the map back into his hands. "What the hell are you saying?"

"I need to go back."

"What?" Natalie repeated, thinking she misheard.

"I just... this was a mistake. Leaving them there. Look, you can make those two miles fast. The trail is clear, you have the map and phone. I'll go back and make sure Ethan made it safely-"

"How? Are you going to climb down too? What's your genius plan, Will? Getting lost again?" she shouted, because she felt like he was behaving irrationally. Will gritted his teeth, the familiar anger and frustration returning to his eyes, but Natalie couldn't care less. This whole day was just one failure after another. She was scared for Connor, worried about Ethan. She refused to add Will to that equation as well.

"It wasn't my fault! Who the hell thinks sending a city boy into the middle of the woods with nothing but a map is a good idea? And Ethan got lost too! He's ex-army! Why don't you go blame him?"

"Because he's hanging on a bloody rope over a cliff, trying to save Connor!" Natalie snapped back. God, how she wanted to slap Will to his senses. Or scream. Yes, that one sounded like a great option.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't bring help any quicker.

"What the hell is your problem? You go ahead and I will turn back. We both follow the road!"

"Great! And if I slip and sprain my ankle, you would be sitting on your ass back up at the cliff, waiting for the help that won't come?"

She knew it was low. She wasn't really worried about herself, although the idea of running through the woods alone didn't bring her any joy. But she also didn't want Will getting lost, or worse... try to be a hero. She knew him. She knew that letting Ethan be the one climbing down, be the one taking charge and hopefully saving the day, was killing Will. He hated not being in the thick of things, to prove everyone he could be the savior.

If this was all about his medical skills, she would've told him right away to stay with Ethan and Connor. Trouble was, Will could be clumsy. Will also didn't like heights. So the idea of him hanging around the cliff side gave her the chills. What if Ethan did need help? What if Will tried to climb down too, without even that rope-

No. Natalie shook her head. She was willing to do many things, but didn't want to risk losing Will to some hero complex.

"We need to go together, Will," she said, grabbing his arm, begging with her eyes for him to just comply. He looked like he wanted to fight still, feet not moving.

Natalie let out a strangled cry of frustration. Just as she was deciding whether to leave him there or not, something pinged.

They both froze.

Another ping followed by a buzzing sound.

A message. Then another.

Natalie looked down at the phone.

There was one signal bar flashing. Several missed calls. Several messages. She clicked on the first missed call and redialed the number. Waiting with bathed breath, praying.

"About damn time-" came the voice of their camp leader. Natalie let out a victorious yelp, interrupting the would be diatribe.

"What the hell?"

"It works!" she mouthed at Will. "We need help!" she said to the phone, hope filling her voice.