Author's Note: I hope this is a lovely ending for you all; it's simply where the story took me. :) Thanks for reading!


Chapter 3

Preach and Amir managed to bring their packs down one by one, finally collecting all their things so they could again focus on Adam.

And the four of them maintained a nearly silent vigil as they waited.

McG steadily monitored Adam's heartrate as Amir took the medic's place at Adam's side, again putting pressure against the wound. Jaz continued to press against his shoulder, relieved when McG had announced the bleeding had slowed at least a little.

But Adam never stirred. Not once since he'd slipped under.

Then over the din of the forest, they finally heard it. The buzz of vehicles. Of help.

Preach left to flag down the rescue team, and McG moved to prepare Adam for transport.

McG was lifting various bandages for a quick look before help arrived, and his face fell.

"What is it?" Jaz asked, her voice strangely small.

The medic spared her a glance, his eyes soft. "Infection. I was afraid of this."

Before she could say another word, Preach rounded the corner with a collection of emergency personnel behind him, a new wave of activity washing over them.

Hands descended on Adam, careful and probing as McG passed on what he knew. And there were just voices. So many voices. All of them bumping into each other as they spilled through the open air, splattering over what was once a serene landscape.

Adam was placed on a board, carried hurriedly through the trees. Afraid of being left behind, the team hastily grabbed their packs—Amir snapping up Adam's also—and ran after Adam's rescuers.

And all the noise, all the pandemonium, moved jaggedly through the forest, casting the abandoned space into a smooth silence. Where they once were lay a swirl of disturbed leaves and dirt, pools of precious blood sunk into the earth. A quiet, still memory of what happened there.

Left behind. Without even a fleeting glance back.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"We've cleaned his injuries and stitched them up as best we can," the doctor reported evenly, the picture of professionalism brushed over clear concern and care. "We had to push a couple bags of blood, and to stave off the infection, we've started a strong round of antibiotics."

"Is it bad?" McG asked seriously, dark eyes hard.

"Animal bites of any kind can lead to nasty infections, but I think we may have gotten to him in time," the man replied, nodding with a sympathetic look. "We were ready to treat the infection before he even arrived, so he got what he needed right away."

The team sat quietly, internalizing the information as they carefully tucked their emotions away.

"He's been through quite . . . an ordeal," the doctor continued, the corners of his mouth dipping downward. "He's going to look pretty bad for a while." He paused, looking at McG. "But I understand you all serve together."

"Yes, sir," McG huffed as he straightened with pride. "We've seen our fair share of 'pretty bad.'"

The man nodded. "Your service is greatly appreciated. And our staff will give him the greatest of care while he's here."

"Any idea of how long he'll be here?" Jaz asked suddenly, uncomfortable in the bright lighting of the hospital.

The doctor shifted in his seat. "If we get through the infection easily and if he starts to recover from the blood loss and physical trauma fairly quickly, I could release him in maybe two weeks—given he'll have someone to keep an eye on him at home."

"Oh, we've got a system," McG muttered with a wan smile. "You haven't had the privilege yet, but he can be a stubborn patient."

The man returned the smile, standing from his seat. "Strangely, that doesn't surprise me."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"He does look pretty bad," Jaz sighed, voicing the shared sentiment as they laid eyes on Adam for the first time in hours.

While the dirt and blood had been carefully wiped away, the bruises had grown bolder. Honestly, they'd expected a better image, considering the claw and teeth marks would be hidden away behind clean bandaging. But the bruises . . . those they hadn't accounted for

"Only Top would get attacked by a bear in the handful of months we're stateside," McG muttered, dropping wearily into a chair.

With a hum of dark agreement, they settled in for the long wait.

Even with the antibiotics, Adam developed a fever quickly, straining the teams already tense worry. Thankfully, the staff let them stay during all hours of the day, the four of them taking turns going home for a shower and some decent sleep. At one point, Amir and Preach left to fetch Adam's truck from where they'd left it at the trailhead. Then, finally, Adam's fever broke, and his condition took a turn for the better.

But in a solid day and a half, he'd only awoken for minutes at a time, groggy and out of it amid the fever and pain. The team was starting to grow restless, enduring long stretches of unconsciousness.

It was the weary hours of the early morning when Adam opened his eyes. The sun had yet to come up, casting the dim room in dark shadows. The whole team was present, sprawled around the room as they'd been for the last two days. Jaz was closest, thumbing through a magazine. Amir was seated on the other side, reading a book without much focus. And Preach had managed to fall asleep in a corner seat, with McG napping in the opposite corner.

So when Adam let out a soft groan, Jaz and Amir immediately snapped to attention.

"Top?" Jaz pressed, fingers already curling around Adam's uninjured forearm.

It took some time, but Adam finally managed to push his way into consciousness, breathing shallowly against broken ribs. He winced tightly as the pain gradually came back to him.

Jaz's enthusiasm faltered.

"You need some painkillers?" Amir asked from the other side. Adam weakly shook his head.

"No, don' wan' 'em," he mumbled, moving a fraction of an inch before the sharp agony stopped him.

Jaz huffed, rolling her shoulders in annoyance. "How're you feeling?"

Adam thought for a moment, closing his eyes momentarily. "L'ke I w's hit by a b'r."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Ev'ryth'n's sore," he added, letting out another groan.

Amir leaned closer, though still keeping a respectful distance. "Doc says the worst of it is over. The infection's gone, so it should only get better from here."

"Good," Adam croaked. "F'll recov'ry?"

Jaz sighed. Of course Adam would be most concerned about lasting damage. About anything that could keep him from his duty. "They said you were lucky. With proper physical therapy, you should completely recover."

Adam nodded, swallowing against a dry throat.

"Here," Jaz offered, filling a cup of water from a pitcher the nurses left and holding it to his lips. He sipped at it carefully until he grew too tired and rested his head back against the pillows.

She set the cup aside, eyes falling to the bruises on Adam's knuckles. "So you said you fought the bear."
"Did wh't I could," he muttered, brow furrowing a little. "Got her to drop me eventually."

"You gotta admit. That's pretty badass," she replied with a smile. "Not many can say they fought a bear and lived to tell about it."

A smirk pulled at Adam's lips. "Got a poin' th're."

Jaz grinned at Amir, the ex-spy returning with a small curl of his lips. Adam was finally awake. Finally more himself than he'd been in a few days.

Finally.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"You sure you got that?" Jaz asked, a subtle laugh in her voice.

Adam was being stubborn. As always.

He'd only been home for twelve hours, still swathed in bandages with a cast on his left arm. A sling strapped his right arm to his body, keeping him from using his most torn up shoulder. From the way he moved, Jaz could tell he was incredibly sore. And yet, he was still trying to open a bottle of water by himself, using the counter to wedge the bottle against his stomach as he twisted the cap with his left hand.

With a satisfying crack of plastic, the cap came open, and he smiled a little at his own success.

"I think I've got it," he replied with a teasing smile, tossing the cap aside to firmly grip the bottle. Finished with his task, he stiffly and unsteadily moved to the living room, eyeing the empty spot on the couch with a weary look. Mustering up the little energy he had left, he gingerly lowered himself into the seat, miraculously keeping the full water bottle level as he went. Jaz could almost feel Adam's bone-deep relief when he'd finally settled against the cushions.

"You good?" she asked, eyeing him carefully. Just from the simple journey to the kitchen and back, he looked spent. Maybe even a little paler. But she knew she had to let him be, even when she was itching to help at every turn.

He nodded quickly, setting the bottle of water on the nearest surface. "Think I'm getting into the swing of things."

"It's only been two weeks since . . . you know," she reminded him cautiously. "I think you're entitled to a little spoiling. Like, you could've asked me to get you some water. That's kind of why I'm here." Preach had warned her Adam was being stubborn. As the older man handed off his shift to the sniper, he'd muttered a sage warning. They all knew how much Adam hated being helped, even if he was such a stalwart support to others.

"Nah, I can do it," Adam replied casually. He leaned forward to grab the TV remote, slowing with a hiss as the movement stretched his injured side.

Annoyed, Jaz snatched up the TV remote and handed it to him. "This will go a lot easier if you just let us help you."

"Look, I appreciate it," he replied with a bit of heat, snapping the remote from her grip. "But believe it or not, I'm okay at taking care of myself."

Jaz pressed her lips together, both irritated and concerned. "We know you are. But for times like this, it's easier when you have some help."

Adam inhaled deeply and shifted, a wince immediately marring his face. "You honestly could've just dropped me off and I would've been fine."

Jaz took her own deep breath, attempting to calm her fiery emotions. "Top," she began, her voice low and quiet. "Take a minute and look at yourself. You got mauled by a bear. Remember your first week in the hospital? You could barely sit up straight you were in so much pain." She leveled a look at him, catching his firm glare. "We're a team. If any of us were mauled by a bear, you know you'd do the same."

Adam's eyes softened.

"Remember after Tehran? I was a mess. A mess. And you were there for all of it. Even when I thought I wanted to be alone, you didn't let me."

"Jaz, that's different—"

"In some ways, maybe. But you took a beating." She gave him a sympathetic look. "And just how I shouldn't have been alone after Tehran, you shouldn't have to push yourself when you're in such bad shape. We don't want you to be in pain, even if you can handle it. So your job is to get better. Our job is everything else."

Adam looked down at his lap, nodding slowly. A still silence fell between them, buzzing quietly in the calm of the evening. With a huff, Adam rested his head against the back of the couch. "I think you said it best: 'People like us don't do powerless very well.'"

Jaz smiled. "That's something we all need to work on." She paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Except for maybe Preach."

Adam chuckled before it twisted into a strangled cry of huffy laughter, his hand fluttering to his side. "The man's a saint," he rasped, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Content with Adam's compliance, Jaz swiftly pulled the TV remote from Adam's hand, earning a look of betrayal from the blond. "So what are we watching? I'm thinking something scary."

"Hell no," Adam replied bitterly, sinking further into the couch.

"I'm thinking . . . haunting." Jaz quickly flipped through the movie options.

"Jaz, no—" Adam tried to reach over his body with his left hand, attempting to regain control of the remote. Grinning, the sniper easily raised it out of his reach, still flipping through movies.

"Come on, Top. Don't tell me you're scared."

"Not scared. Just a firm believer of leaving unnatural things alone." He reached a little further, pulling his hand back and grunting painfully when he stretched a little too far. Jaz grimaced apologetically, going back to the main menu.

"Alright, we won't watch something scary," she conceded contritely. "How about an inspirational sports film? Actually, I feel like a touchy-feely horse movie is more your speed."

"What? What about me says touchy-feely horse movie? Give me that. Don't make me pull rank."

"Alright, alright," Jaz laughed. "What do you want to watch?"

After a solid ten minutes, they finally settled on a movie. A touchy-feely horse movie—which Adam chose. Jaz couldn't help the barrage of teases that tumbled out of her mouth at the choice, and Adam endured it all with masculine grace and a patient smile. Satisfied she'd given him all the ribbing he deserved, Jaz left Adam to set it all up while she made a bowl of popcorn and turned out the lights. Once she'd slipped back onto the couch, they let it play, Jaz throwing out flippant criticisms as Adam tried not to laugh.

Eventually, Jaz became so absorbed in the film, she'd given up on the commentary, and the two fell into silence. When the credits rolled, Jaz finally heard the soft snore beside her.

Looking over, she found Adam dead asleep, slumped against the corner of the couch.

And frankly, it was weird.

Jaz hardly ever saw Adam fall asleep so casually. She'd seen him unconscious, of course, and she'd occasionally seen him sleep because it was time to.

But she'd almost never seen him just fall asleep. On accident.

It reminded her that for all his strength and skill, he was still just as frail as any other human at times. Tired and fragile.

A sudden wave of fierce protectiveness fell over her.

Watching him peacefully slumbering away, she wanted to just let him be. But even without the bloody tears and sore muscles, no one should sleep slumped over on a couch like that.

She let out an apologetic sigh, reaching over to touch his bicep in the blue light of the TV.

"Hey," she whispered, gently shaking him. "Come on, you can't sleep here."

She was met with a low groan, a pitiful sound capturing every ache and pain the blond felt.

Jaz was almost sorry for reintroducing him to his own sorry state.

"You'll be in worse shape if you sleep here," she prodded. "Let's get you to bed."

With a series of grunts and grumbles, Jaz managed to get Adam upright, guiding his stiff figure to his room. Thankfully, Adam was aware enough to gingerly lower himself onto his bed and avoid jarring his injuries.

And only a handful of seconds later, he was fast asleep again.

Quietly, Jaz pulled the blankets up to his shoulders, giving him one last lookover before retreating back to her place in the living room.

With a sigh, she stared back at the TV.

She was in the mood for a scary movie. Jaz smiled, taking hold of the TV remote.

What Top didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Fin.