Why was it always him getting shot? Okay, Pooch had gotten shot in his legs, but that was one time. And they'd shot Aisha a little, but she'd totally deserved it, since she'd just shot him. Maybe Jensen should appreciate the fact she hadn't shot where she'd been aiming at first, but it was still annoying. He didn't think it was possible to shoot Cougar, the slick bastard that he was. And Clay surprisingly got out of most situations unscathed, even though he made some of the dumbest decisions. Take all of his exes and his current partner.
Did Jensen have some sort of magnet in his body that just attracted bullets? It wasn't fair if he did and he would appreciate if he could get it removed, thank you very much. His blood looked a lot better inside than it did outside, so he'd like to keep it there. But with the head wound earlier and now this, he might as well give up and let the rest of it out too. People didn't really need blood, did they?
"Yes, people do need blood," Aisha snorted, shooting a few more rounds before ducking again.
"I'm getting really sick of people reading my thoughts," Jensen grumbled.
"You've been saying everything out loud," Aisha scoffed, clicking a new magazine into her gun. "It's getting pretty annoying."
"See if I take another bullet for you," Jensen snapped, hissing as he tried to probe his wound blindly. It was going to take him some time before he felt ready to try sitting up.
"No one asked you to," Aisha shot back.
"You're such an asshole. I'm not expecting a parade in my honor, but damn."
"Let me take a look at it," Roque said, crouching down next to him.
"Don't fucking touch me. I hate you more than Aisha. Probably even more than the person who shot me," Jensen spat, smacking Roque's hand away before he could touch him.
"Would you rather bleed to death?" Roque asked.
"Might as well. Or does that mess up your plans for later? Plotting to kill us both at just the right moment, after one last villainous monologue?" Jensen mused. If this were a sequel to that bullshit day at the port, that's probably how it would end. Roque would make it all the way back for a final showdown with Clay after getting rid of the loose ends. Well, this loose end wasn't going to make things easy for him.
"Funny," Roque scoffed, before pressing something against his wound. Jensen wasn't really aware of anything after that for a while. He might've yelled something, but he wasn't sure. He couldn't even tell when his inner voice turned into an outer voice these days, so he decided not to fret over it.
"Jensen, if you don't say anything in the next five seconds, I'm going to shoot Roque!" Aisha snapped. Jensen's blurry eyes found her holding a gun to Roque's head, while still shooting at the bad guys. He was impressed that she didn't accidentally squeeze the wrong finger. She was probably amazing at that patting your stomach and rubbing your head thing. Or was it the other way around?
"Where'd you get the eye patch?" Jensen mumbled, staring up at Roque now that he was closer. Besides the eyepatch, he could also see some healed burns on parts of his exposed skin. And he overall just looked more tired than Jensen remembered. And like he'd aged a decade. Jensen told himself that he shouldn't feel sorry for him, since Roque had chosen this for himself, but he still felt a twinge of sympathy. It was hard for him to completely write off someone he'd cared about once upon a time. He'd probably still give his parents another chance, even though it never went well for him before.
"Clay gouged it out," Roque muttered, working quickly to soak up the blood and bandage Jensen's side.
"Nice."
"What are we looking at?" Aisha asked, reluctantly moving the gun back to the targets she could shoot without a thought.
"Just a graze. Could probably use stitches, but that isn't really an option right now," Roque replied, finishing up.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Jensen smirked, slapping Roque's hand after he was done, just to make himself feel better. His skin was crawling at having been in such a vulnerable position. He finally got a hold of his gun and pulled it out, dragging himself so he was seated next to Aisha. "What are we dealing with?"
"We're dealing with people shooting at us," Aisha hissed, growling as another chunk of wall was hit just above her head.
"Yeah, I got that, but do you have any helpful details? Like how many people we are dealing with and where they are?"
"I'm sorry, I've been a bit busy. You were the one laying around."
"Never again. Never again am I going anywhere with you," Jensen grumbled, peeking his head over their cover and immediately ducking back down when a bullet whizzed by his ear. "I don't care if you chop Clay's balls off next time, he's gonna hobble his ass out into the desert with you anyways."
"Excuse me interrupting your friendly conversation, but we should probably come up with some sort of plan to get out of this," Roque interjected, sending off a few rounds and hitting something, if that distant screech of pain was anything to go by. "We're eventually going to run out of bullets."
"How about you run into the open while Jensen and I go the opposite way. We can make a quick escape while you take a few dozen bullets for the team," Aisha suggested.
"I guess that means you don't want me to tell you where my car is stashed," Roque shrugged. Jensen perked up at the possibility they wouldn't have to walk all the way to civilization. Whoever was shooting at them may have cars too, but a definite vehicle was better than a possible one.
"I'm sure we'd be able to find it on our own," Aisha scoffed, grinning evilly as one of her shots hit its mark. Jensen had to admit that at this point, he was kind of leaning toward sticking with Roque. It wasn't like he forgave him or trusted him at all, but his adrenaline was waning and fatigue was setting in and he wanted there to be an easy solution.
"We've gotta do something soon, before it gets too dark," Jensen sighed, tapping his gun against his thigh. "If they get the chance to skulk around in the dark and surround us, we're screwed."
"Hold up a second, I have an idea," Roque mumbled. Jensen peeked over to see what he was doing and rolled his eyes.
"Of course you have dynamite in your bag. What kind of stereotypical bad guy would you be if you didn't?" Jensen snorted.
"You'll appreciate it when I end up saving your ass," Roque shot back, getting his supplies together.
"What's the plan? Gonna throw them at our feet and laugh as we jump around like they were firecrackers?"
"That's not a bad idea actually, but no," Roque chuckled. Since when did Roque laugh at any of his jokes? Jensen still wasn't sure this wasn't a very intense hallucination. "When this explodes and provides us cover, we're gonna run to the left."
"How about you run left and we'll run right, never to interact again?" Aisha suggested.
"Sounds great, since we have to go left to get to my car," Roque smirked. "I'm not gonna stop you, but that's gonna be a lot of walking, if you even get that far." Aisha sneered at him and let off a few more shots to release some of her frustration.
"I hate this," Jensen whined, swiping away a bead of sweat from his forehead. He couldn't even tell if he was hot or cold at this point.
"We all do," Aisha grumbled.
"I wonder how much differently this all would've gone if Clay came as planned. Probably not very well. Maybe me being here was fate," Jensen mused wistfully. "I like to think that I'm a forgiving person. I forgave Pooch for breaking my computer that one time. And just because I still bring it up doesn't make it not true."
"You know, I think I'm willing to get shot, just so I don't have to keep listening to you," Aisha snapped.
"I don't think you're as mean as you pretend to be. It's just a defense mechanism," Jensen murmured, letting his head loll to one side. It was too heavy. "We wouldn't reject you if you opened up to us."
"Oh my God."
"Well, the ear thing may give me pause."
"Have you even shot your gun?"
"I don't know," Jensen sighed.
"Dammit," Aisha grunted, cutting her eyes at Roque. "Do it."
"Jensen, you ready to run?" Roque asked, squatting in position to make his throw.
"Like Wile E. Coyote. I mean Roadrunner. Fucking whatever, the answer is yes," Jensen muttered, grimacing as he hoisted himself up from his resting place. All this bending and slouching sucked.
"Here we go," Roque said, grunting as he popped up to throw the ignited sticks of doom. Jensen could feel his adrenaline spike again in the few seconds of waiting for the blast, fueling his body and dulling his pain. It didn't matter how much of this next bit was going to hurt, because it was progress toward getting home.
As soon as the explosion sent up a plume of dirt, Aisha was off. Jensen was hot on her heels, not willing to slow her down and incur her wrath. It wasn't very far to their next cover area, but a lucky bullet hitting them was always a possibility. Jensen let out a bark of laughter when they made it across unscathed.
"That was fun, but let's never do it again," Jensen chuckled, wheezing a little at the end when he lost his breath. "I think I forgot how enjoyable watching things blow up was without you around, Roque." Jensen turned to look behind him to catch the other man's response, but there was no one there.
"Great," Aisha groaned, tipping her head back to where they'd been before. Roque was still there, holding the side of his chest in a way that wasn't typical. Not unless you had an injury there.
"Ah shit," Jensen muttered, seeing the red of the blood even from his distance. "What do we do now?"
"We find his car and get the hell out of here. Roque isn't our problem anymore," Aisha shrugged. Even though Aisha said it like it was so simple, Jensen was torn. He shouldn't be, since Roque left them for dead before. This should be the easiest decision in the world for him. The rest of the team would probably pat him on the back for a job well done. So why did leaving Roque feel like an impossible choice?
"Shit," Jensen whispered, moving to the edge of their cover. He raked a hand through his currently limp hair, searching for a sign. He wasn't religious, so he wasn't looking for something from someone in the sky. Jensen just needed something to tell him which way to go
"Jay, one click east. Under a tarp," Roque called out, just loud enough for him and Aisha to hear. There was his sign. Jensen darted back into the open, sensing the bullets whizzing by him but dodging them like a jackrabbit. He had to make a dive near the end, landing harshly on his injured side in the process. Jensen laid there panting for a few seconds, already cursing his terrible decision. He'd been practically home free, then threw himself back into the lion's den. Aisha was going to kill him.
