A/N: I started writing last year, publishing my first fic basically anonymously on AO3. But no one really writes a 25k+ fic on the first attempt. This was my actual first attempt. I found it in the trash can on my google drive. It was handwritten in my down time at work and transcribed. So I resurrected it from the dumpster and fixed the spelling errors. I never intended to share it with anyone, but I did share it with a couple of close friends.
I intended to fix it and make it flow better, but you know what, I decided to leave it the way it was. It's not long and reminds me that all of the emotion I write is action driven and I need to work on "feelings" coming through without dialogue and physical cues.
This idea was stuck in my brain for so long, it demanded to be written, so I did it. Was I successful? Maybe not, but I did my first dialogue, first action, and most importantly FIRST WHUMP. Now that I've made it sound terrible you probably won't read it at all. It's not that bad. It is worth a read. I may eventually, when I have more practice, rewrite this same plot. Circa January 2019-here you go.
Thanks for reading,
Bunn
Mac was unusually quiet over the coms and that worried Jack; it was his cue to start imparting his infinite wisdom on his charge to keep Mac's mind occupied while tinkering. With no shortage of weird ideas and crazy stories on standby for these situations Jack grinned thinking about his upcoming rant. He peeked from behind the crates serving as his cover and stepped out, gun drawn, to start another perimeter check.
"Alls I'm saying is that we have been cursed with hearing iWalking on Sunshine/i in the trailers for crappy RomComs for over 35 years now. If you hear that song used in a movie trailer, there's a 100% chance that that movie is gonna suck."
Jack paused before delivering his zinger, "So if Deadpool ironically uses it in one of his trailers, then it'll break the cycle, and we'll never have to hear that song again."
Mac let out a soft grunt, clearly working diligently on his project, but thankful for the not really distracting/distrating banter. "You say that like Deadpool is an actual person and not a fictional character."
With an exaggerated gasp and a look of floored astonishment no one was present to see, "He is real. Ryan Reynolds is actually Deadpool...minus the messed up face."
"And the mutant healing ability since we know the X-Men don't really exist." Mac's annoyed tone indicated that he was almost finished and getting ready to head to the exit with the device.
Jack cut him off with mock offense, "We don't know that! I mean he ages so well. He can't be human." he tugged at his black t-tshirt, bunching up slightly under his TAC vest the sweatier he got.
"Jack, your raging man-crush aside, the actor in the film probably has no say when it comes to the content of the trailers, but I DO understand what you're saying. I'm headed towards the door at the north east corner of the building, about 15 seconds out."
Riley piped in over the coms, watching the birdseye view of the landscape on her screen, "I commandeered a vehicle to take us to exfil, about a mile and a quarter south of your position. Sky blue and white old truck. Like older than Jack old."
"Hey! Sounds like that truck is classic, just like me." Jack drawled.
"No," she barked, "it's a giant smelly rust bucket, but it's got 4 tires and runs."
"Also like Jack." Mac chuckled as he pushed the exit door open with his backside.
Jack sighed, "That doesn't even make sense, dude." Mac emerged from the door, liberated device in hand. "I don't run...unless I'm being chased." Jack added as they walked toward their stolen escape vehicle.
"Uhhh," Riley started, "I hate to interrupt your leisurely stroll, boys, but we're on a timeline here. We need to open and run that software in the next 20 minutes."
"What?" Mac interjected, "We have at least 2 hours."
"Looks like your little breaking and entering session bumped up their timeline." Riley was frantically typing as she spoke. Her next thought was interrupted by the sound of gunfire over the coms. "Guys. GUYS! Was that gunfire?"
Jack pulled his Glock from his thigh holster as they took off in a sprint; he turned around to give Mac some cover, staying about 12 feet behind and shooting towards the north at their assailants.
The other shooters were not near enough to make any physical or visual contact, but the agents increased their pace, Jack twisting his torso every once in a while to fire into the trees behind them to let the bad guys know that they would continue to fight back.
Mac felt a projectile whir past his ear uncomfortably close meaning there were more militant operatives in the area than they'd expected. Jack had apparently felt how close that one was too. He stopped and turned towards the direction where the shot came from and fired, taking out his target in one shot. With a celebratory arm pump at his side, he ran to catch up with Mac.
The distant gunfire continued, but they kept running southbound toward the awaiting truck.
Mac heard a thud behind him and turned around to see Jack on his ass, shooting at someone who'd been hiding behind a bush. He easily dispatched the target and got back up to tighten the gap between himself and his partner.
"You ok?" Mac slowed a little to let Jack catch up.
"Yea. Just tripped over some stupid rock and took out that sneaky asshole as I was getting up. Let's go!" Jack sprinted ahead and motioned for Mac to follow in haste.
They saw the truck through a clearing and picked up the pace slightly. Riley spotted them and scooted across the bench seat to shove open the heavy passenger door with her feet. Mac leapt with unexpected grace into the cab of the truck and slid across the seat to his position right next to Riley. Jack hopped in seconds later banging in time on the roof "go! go! go!"
The force of the acceleration and Jack yanking the handle caused the door to slam shut quickly with a rusted groan while Mac grabbed Riley's computer off the dash of the vehicle. He plugged in the acquired device. "What now, Ri?" he had to yell over the old diesel engine.
"I set up the program to just run on its own with minimal help. When it prompts you to do something, just do it. You shouldn't run into any problems." She explained as she focused her attention on the minimally carved trail ahead of her, hugging the comically large steering wheel with both arms.
Moments later, Matty appeared in a video screen in the corner of Riley's rig. "Did you get it?"
"Yea, Matty. The program is running now." Mac added confidently.
Matty enlarged the window mirroring Riley's computer's activity to watch the software unpack the data on the disk. "We only have a few minutes left; I hope your simplified program doesn't slow down progress."
Mac came to Riley's defense, clicking and typing what was asked when prompted, "the program is very intuitive, I think it's working quickly. We didn't expect this to come down to the wire."
"I know Blondie, I'm just a little on edge after this little snafu. I have complete faith in Riley's abilities. Kinda like I did in you being able to retrieve this device undetected."
"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened to alert them. There were no trip wires or booby traps or anything. I was prepared for ithat./i" Mac apologized for no good reason, but it made him feel better. "I think this thing is almost done." His fingers hovered over the keyboard, waiting for the last command, "aaaaaand there it is." He punctuated his sentence with a loud satisfying keystroke.
"Congratulations." Sometimes they couldn't tell if Matty was being sarcastic or sincere. "Your exfil will meet you in 15 minutes at the large clearing about 8 miles from your current position."
"Are you sending coordinates?" Mac thought out loud, finding this dissemination of information over coms a little unusual.
"No, just follow the road till you find the clearing large enough to land a helicopter. Exfil is overly simplified now due to the rushed timeline and the questionable reliability of your illegally acquired vehicle."
Riley scoffed, getting comfortable with the size and feel of the vehicle quickly, "Papa Smurf is getting us where we need to go. I have faith."
"Are you talking about Jack or the old truck you stole?" Matty's eyebrow raised.
"Stole? Nah, more like borrowed...The dude turned it over to me willingly...sort of. I'm not sure what exactly happened, but I have a truck that is getting us where we need to go and no one got hurt." Riley chuckled glancing occasionally at the computer screen and leaning over to put her grin on display for the camera, tension slightly lessened as their mission objective was complete. "I'm not looking to put any more felonies to my name."
Matty raised an eyebrow, "Speaking of Jack, did you make him ride in the bed of the truck? I haven't heard a peep out of him since you picked up the laptop."
Mac pivoted the laptop towards his best friend, expecting him to flip a bird, make a goofy face, or sing a song, but he didn't. Jack's cheek was pressed up against the window, eyes closed, lips slightly parted in a peaceful slumber.
"Oh cute, playing possum, the only time Dalton is ever quiet." Matty's ribbing elicited no response from Jack.
Mac nudged the side of Jack's shin with his ankle. "Funny. Now come on." nothing. He hastily tossed the computer up on the dash of the truck and gently elbowed him in the ribs. "Ok, don't be a jackass."
Mac was floating between two reactions, fury over his friend's inappropriate ruse and sheer terror. He took in Jack's status with a quick head to toe assessment. When he saw blood on Jack's right forearm, dangling between the seat and the door, he reached across to grab it and check the wound. From elbow to fingertip, Jack's arm was sticky with fresh blood. Mac didn't realize how loud he was yelling while repeatedly flipping Jack's arm over at the wrist looking for any signs of damage. "Jack! Talk to me. What is this? Jack!" He tapped Jack's cheek, marring it with his own blood, each tap more aggressive than the previous one. When he still didn't respond, Mac got on his knees in the floorboard between Jack's legs to get a better look. The black t-shirt and TAC vest obscured any obvious injuries until Mac saw the glistening wetness above his partner's right hip. He pulled the two velcro shoulder straps from the TAC vest and carefully removed the two velcro straps from the sides. As gently and cautiously as he would remove a panel off a bomb, Mac pulled the chest plate of the TAC vest away to gauge the extent of the injury.
He pulled the sticky shirt up to Jack's ribs and examined the bullet hole in his partner's side. Frantically he searched with his hand for an exit wound on the other side.
Mac wasn't sure how long Riley had been yelling at him, ping ponging her attention between watching them and trying to keep her eyes on the road. "Mac, tell me what's wrong! Is he ok?"
"I... I ... it. I found an entry wound but no exit yet". Not satisfied by not finding an exit wound with his panicked bloody hands,Mac raised up from his squatted position to get a better look. He pulled Jack toward him by the shoulders, and his stomach lurched when his partner's head lolled heavily onto Mac's shoulder. After visual confirmation of no exit wound, he tried to apply pressure to the wound. The blood gushed between his fingers; he increased the pressure, taking inventory of the truck's contents to find a stronger solution. Mac grabbed the velcro straps he'd pulled from the TAC vest to put them together end to end to wrap around the wound to hold firm steady pressure. Once he was satisfied with the dressing, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He was so laser focused on his task that once he'd finished, he was overwhelmed by the inability to fix anything else.
Matty had watched the entire situation unfold, muting her end of the video chat to get medevac arranged to meet with exfil, starting all the gears turning for the team's safe arrival home. She'd been long forgotten by the kids in the truck, but was able to see everything that was happening. She sensed Mac's fuse getting short, and if she didn't give him something to do, he was going to go into full blown panic mode. She turned her microphone back on to keep the boy busy. "Blondie! I need patient status." He looked like a deer in headlights trying to process her request. "Now!" Her demands kept coming when she realized they both needed direction to stave away panic. "Riley, floor it. You're less than 5 mikes away from exfil."
Mac blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head and distance himself from the very personal situation he was in. "Patient status. um... " he stammered, looking at Matty on the screen, her maternal glare demanding some action.
"Patient - is a 44 year old male. unconscious." He looked back at Jack's face and had to look away - down - at his hands - the door - anywhere else. "Br- breathing is shallow and rapid. It sounds we-wet, Matty. " his pleading eyes looked directly at her on the laptop.
"Focus, Mac." she was stern and short with him. He swallowed and turned back to his friend, closing off from everything else in the world that was not Jack.
"Come on big guy, please talk to me." He begged as he nudged Jack's collarbone as softly as he would waking him from a nap.
"Quit screwing around," he jostled Jack's shoulder with a playful strike. "Say something!" The panic in his voice increased. Mac held his breath waiting on any kind of reaction, tears threatening to spill with each silent second.
"Come on!" he pleaded as he rubbed his knuckles firmly against Jack's sternum. That move elicited a groan.
"Yes!" Mac yelped, "like that. Come on back." But Jack didn't move. Another Sternum rub. A louder grunt.
Mac put his palms on either side of Jack's neck and jaw lifted his head up to look him straight on as he yelled with a rough shake, "Jack!"
Jack's eyelids fluttered and he moaned. Once Jack's muscles tensed as regained awareness of his own body, Mac guided his hands down to Jack's shoulders to ground him.
"That's it, Jack. Right here. Look at me." Mac couldn't help but smile at the look of recognition from his partner. The relief in Mac's voice brought tears to Riley's eyes.
"Welcome back." Mac could not stop the tears that started to pour down his cheeks. He released the strong grasp he had on Jack's shoulders, finally realizing now hard he was squeezing, as if it were the only thing keeping Jack from floating away.
Jack's voice was soft and tired, "Hey buddy," he managed a slight grin that fell when he took in the tears on Mac's face and blood everywhere. "You hurt?" his eyebrows scrunched together as if he were questioning a baby or puppy.
"Me?" Mac pointed to his own chest. "No. Not a scratch.
Jack beamed a 100 watt smile; his kid was fine. They locked eyes, Jack's now welling up with tears as well. Mac saw his smile droop and eyes lose focus.
"No. NO NONONO." He tried to pull Jack's attention back, but his eyelids slipped shut as he dipped forward onto Mac who could do nothing but catch him and support his weight.
"Riley..." Mac was breathless, struggling to form words. She'd kept her attention on the poorly cut road she was navigating, mostly to avoid thinking about what was going on next to her.
She dared to look to her right to let Mac know they were almost at exfil, but spat out a sound of terror and panic instead. Her dad was slumped forward with his forehead on Mac's shoulder, a string of blood trailing from his lips. She gripped the wheel tighter and pushed the gas pedal harder despite it already being against the floor.
She saw the clearing and the helicopter, occupants ready to assist them. Riley smashed the brake with both feet, fishtailing the truck to where it stopped about 6 feet from the chopper. The exfil team had the passenger door open in seconds, dragging Jack away from Mac by his armpits and out of the truck. Mac couldn't move or speak. Riley just stared out the windshield still tightly gripping the steering wheel.
Neither attempted to move. Mac still sat in the floor of the giant old pickup, staring at the blood on his hands, in his lap, and in the now vacant far side of the passenger seat. Three armed men carried Jack to the chopper. It was a regular exfil vehicle, only equipped with 4 jump seats and a trauma kit, they would meet with a medevac soon, in a safer location for the medical personnel.
The pilot boarded as the other 2 situated Jack in the middle of the floor of the helicopter. When the younger two agents made no attempt to exit the truck, one of the crew waved them in.
Mac jumped as Riley squeezed his shoulder to get his attention, "We gotta go. Come on."
He stared at the empty seat and the open door; not daring to cross over that side of the truck. Riley tugged at his hand, and he silently followed her out the driver's side, jogging to the awaiting exfil team.
Riley took the seat next to the pilot, opening her laptop to update their boss. Mac Sat across from the other 2 crew members afraid to even put his feet on the floor so as not to disturb Jack. Mac didn't even know if he was still alive anymore. He stared at his partner's alarming gray mottled skin, looking for a chest rise or any movement at all, but the rough vibration from the turning rotors made it impossible.
Mac hated that no one was doing anything to help Jack, but there was nothing to be done. They couldn't undo the makeshift dressing until they reached a hospital. They had no monitors or oxygen, just weapons.
He lowered himself from the seat as one of the crew put his hand under Jack's right shoulder to lift as Mac lifted his left and slid to a seated position on the floor with Jack's head in his lap. He placed his right hand on Jack's chest and kept it there until they reached the medevac rendezvous 18 miles away.
(Yes, that's it. That's the end. Does it help if I say everything turns out well and they have more adventures)