Back at the Phoenix, it was finally time to get that bullet out of Jack's leg. He'd pleaded for them to just do it with a spinal block so he could be lucid after spending a good portion of the previous week under the influence of many different drugs or confined. Jack was not interested in being knocked out yet again. The Phoenix doctors argued that even if they tried a spinal block instead, Jack would still be confined and literally strapped to a table unable to move or feel his legs, which would be worse.
The exchange made Mac feel worse about having Jack drugged for the flight home. Jack didn't know Mac had him dosed to travel, and the guilt was still eating Mac up inside. He and the rest of the team waited outside of Medical for the very quick and simple bullet extraction.
Mac fiddled with a paperclip, bending it into the shape of a cartoonish looking bone, with the two ends meeting in the the spot where Jack's leg was broken. Riley had said it was morbid, but Mac was pretty sure Jack would find it funny and toss it into his "box o' paperclips." Jack thought he was being sneaky pocketing Mac's discarded metal art when he thought no one was looking, but everyone knew. They weren't sure where he stored his collection, but knew that he was squirreling them away somewhere.
Riley and Bozer occupied the long padded bench that sat in front of the window, back to back, propping one another up. Mac sat alone in a small chair, trying to keep his mind off of the suffocating guilt he was harboring. He felt responsible for the entire situation; had he not made so many enemies in his work, Jack wouldn't have been taken in the first place.
Bozer got up and walked toward the restroom, giving Mac his best supportive but uncomfortable smile as if to say, "hang in there" while he was barely hanging on himself.
The phone buzzing in Mac's pocket drew his attention away from his spiral of guilt, pulling him back to reality, which was not any better. He thought it would be Bozer offering a coffee run or a snack machine binge. It was a message from an unknown number. Mac knew better than to click to reveal the image and text, but he did it anyway.
"I heard about Jacky boy's little accident. I hope he gets better soon. You're no fun when you're brooding." The message was accompanied by a selfie of Murdoc wearing light blue scrubs and a surgical mask and cap. His beady eyes looked menacing, a creepy smile that reached his eyes concealed by the mask. He was wearing black vinyl gloves and giving a thumbs up.
Mac quickly pressed the power button to turn off the screen when the phone buzzed again.
"Praying for a speedy recovery." was the next message with a very similar close up picture of Murdoc, giving the same thumbs up next to a monitor displaying someone's vitals with a rosary draped over the side.
Mac turned off the screen again, thoroughly creeped out. It was a good 90 seconds before the phone buzzed again. "Everyone's so glum. Chin up, buttercup, he's in good hands." the picture was of Riley and Bozer, sitting where they had been until about 3 minutes prior. Mac grabbed the arms of the chair, rotating his torso to survey the room from corner to corner looking for Murdoc, or anyone else at all. The only other person in the room was Riley.
"Bozer!" he called out, afraid yet another of his friends fell prey to his enemies. "Bozer!"
Riley quickly closed her laptop and ran to Mac who was standing up and turning frantically trying to locate his best friend.
"Mac," she grabbed his shoulder and forearm, "he went to the bathroom. What's wrong?"
"It's Murdoc." he replied and her blood went cold. "BOZER!" he yelled again and his friend rounded the corner, out of breath from running toward his name being called.
"Mac, what's wrong. Is Jack ok? What's going on?" his sentences spewed out in one breath as he went to Mac's other side and tried to ground him with a caring touch.
"Murdoc is here." Mac's eyes were wide with fear, his phone buzzing from the chair where he'd left it.
The final message said, "The old fuddyduddy wouldn't even smile for the camera," accompanied by a picture of Murdoc in the operating room with an intubated Jack with his eyes taped closed. Murdoc's black gloved hand was gripping Jack's jaw to turn his face toward the camera with Murdoc's smiling face looming right next to Jack's.
"NO!" Mac's pained primal scream shook Bozer to the core.
When Mac opened his eyes his t-shirt and sweatpants were drenched, and he was breathing heavily, sitting up in the bed in the hotel, still in Reno. Only a nightmare.
"Mac!" Bozer tried to get his attention repeatedly from the other bed in the room, but Mac was in full panic mode. "Mac!" he no longer cared how loud he yelled to get his friend's attention back to the present, Mac's screaming most definitely woke everyone in the neighboring hotel rooms. There was no doubt Riley would run through their adjoining door any moment.
Mac hopped out of the bed and ran out the door without even putting shoes on. He ran as fast as he could in his socks and bedclothes without considering stopping until he ran the mile and a half to the hospital.
Mac bounded up the stairs, two at a time, into the ICU, gripping the high counter at the nurses's station to stop his momentum and keep his socks from slipping on the glossy off-white floor. He glanced into the empty room that previously housed Jack only hours before. "Where is Jack?" Mac panted, out of breath, eyes wild with fear. The nurse at the desk was about to press the panic button to notify security.
One of the nurses recognized Mac from the night before and approached him tentatively. "Hey, I can help you. Just take a deep breath." She waved off her colleague before security was summoned, and mouthed "call him" while pointing toward a post it note recently pinned behind the desk with a phone number and only the word "McClain" written on it.
"Jack." was all Mac could manage to say.
"He was moved to another room earlier." she spoke softly and slowly, daring to place a hand on his shoulder. "Come with me and I can take you there." She slid her hand down to his bicep and guided him with another hand on the small of his back. "Your name was Mac, right?"
He nodded wordlessly, eyes darting around like a scared wild animal.
"Ok then, Mac, I need you to get this under control so we can go see your friend."
Her words only increased his panic as he breathed harder, nostrils flaring with each breath.
"I can't let you see him until you're cool. Ok?" she stopped walking and stepped in front of him to face him. "You don't want him to see you like this, do you? He'll be worried, and you don't want that, do you? Come on, reel it in." She placed both hands on his shoulders in an attempt to physically and mentally ground him. Her big brown eyes were soft, maternal. She rubbed up and down his biceps in time with his breathing and then slowing to coax some relief into him. "There you go. Good job. Now we're ready. Let's go."
They reached Jack's room and the lights were dimmed, he was sleeping soundly. Mac was so relieved just to lay eyes on him, he approached the bed quickly and the nurse stayed in the doorway. Mac gripped the bed rails, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. He needed that reassurance, that contact, just to ease his mind. His hand hovered over Jack's bicep, reluctant to touch him, to disturb him, but he gave in and gingerly placed his palm on Jack's arm. Relief washed over Mac like he'd never felt before, surprised that a nightmare, a figment of his imagination had him so spun up.
Jack must have sensed the tension and blearily opened his eyes. His smile crept up immediately upon recognition of his brother. Jack's voice was sluggish and gentle, "hey, man. What's up? You ok?" He clumsily felt along the side of the bed for the light dimmer to bring up the lights. He looked at Mac's face, sweaty and pale, and was immediately concerned. He moved his bandaged hand up to cup Mac's cheek, "what's the matter?"
Mac's face twisted in a mix of every emotion, with a giant tear rolling down his cheek, catching on his top lip.
"What happened? Are you ok?" Jack put his hand on the back of Mac's neck and pulled him in close. After a few moments of Mac's breath hitching, Jack placed his hands on Mac's cheeks and guided him back up to look into his eyes. "Hey, I know you're in a bad place right now. I've seen you like this before." Mac rolled his lips in over his teeth and nodded.
Jack scooted over to one side of the bed to make room, concealing any sign of the pain the movement caused him, and patted the empty space. "Come here." Mac hesitated and pulled one leg and his bottom onto the bed.
"All the way, man. I don't bite." Jack joked and moved over a little more, raising his arm up to tuck Mac under his shoulder. Upon seeing Mac's sweatpants and dirty socks as he pulled himself the rest of the way onto the bed, Jack had to ask, "Did you walk here? In your socks? And pajamas?"
"Yeah," Mac managed to croak out.
"You thought I wouldn't be here?" Jack realized.
"Kinda. Yeah."
"Boy, you gotta stop letting those intrusive thoughts drive you. I'm here. I'm always here."
"I know, but...you died, and it was my fault."
"That's bullshit and you know it. Besides, I'm your T-800 Terminator, sent from the future to protect you. You can't kill me."
"I know. I just...I can't...it's...I put everyone I love in danger. I can't help it."
"You gotta let this go, man. You can't live like that, you'll make yourself nuts. You keep getting lost in that big brain of yours."
"I know."
Jack mussed Mac's already unkempt hair, the sweat making it even more of a mess. Jack stealthily pressed the button on the PCA pump, not wanting Mac to see that he was in more pain as a result of his repositioning. "We gotta get you some of the good drugs. Mellow you out. We can trip and watch Yellow Submarine together." Jack pulled Mac in tighter to his chest, ignoring the stabbing pain that came along with it, involuntarily sucking in a quick breath and playing it off, "on second thought, that one is pretty trippy even when your're not on drugs."
Mac's head was tucked into Jack's shoulder. His breathing finally evened out, he wasn't asleep, but he was relaxed. He felt safe and anchored.
Dr. McClain appeared in the doorway with Riley and Bozer right behind him. Jack looked their way and waved them off, disguising that movement as an attempt to find the light dimmer. Jack turned down the lights and asked Mac one last time, "You ok?"
"Yeah." was Mac's whispered response.
"Ok then. I'm gonna get some sleep, bud. You stay here as long as you need to, ok?"
"Ok. Thank you, Jack."
Jack managed to sleep hard through the night thanks to the drugs and the comfort of having Mac with him. Mac woke early, embarrassed about the panicked state he had been in earlier. He detached himself from Jack's side and snuck to the bathroom where he found his duffel bag with a note on top, "thought you may need your shoes. Call me if you need anything." Followed by a smiley face and Bozer's practiced signature.
Mac's cheeks blushed red, did everyone see him freak out and run like a lunatic? His nightmare had been as realistic and traumatizing as the ones he had when they'd returned from the sandbox, but it had been a while since he'd experienced one so unnerving. He splashed water from the sink onto his face and tried to slick down his wild hair.
While changing into his regular clothes, Mac heard Jack have a coughing fit. He fastened his jeans and slid his t-shirt over his head hastily to check on his friend.
Jack hacked and coughed and spit out whatever had come up, deflating back into his pillow, panting. The click of a door opening drew Jack's attention. "Hey," Jack smiled when Mac emerged from the bathroom. He continued groggily, "I didn't know you were still here."
"Yeah, just getting dressed." Mac said timidly, unsure why he felt so awkward.
"You better now?"
"Yeah, thanks. Sorry about that."
"You' got nothing to be sorry for, boy. Did you do anything I wouldn't or haven't done?" Mac shook his head. "Ok, then." Jack paused, "now go find something to eat. You look like you lost 10 pounds since last time I saw you." Jack shifted his legs and shimmied into a more seated position, "ok?"
"Ok." Mac sounded like a defeated child.
"Go check on your sister, make sure she's eating too. I'm good. They'll take care of me here, but I need you to take care of each other while I cant. You copy?"
"I copy." Mac flashed a shy smile.
"I don't want to see you again till after lunch, now shoo." As much as Jack relied on Mac's presence to ground and strengthen, he was having difficulty keeping up a strong front. He needed some time to break down without worrying his family.
Everything hurt. The morphine had worn off, so his head was clearer and he tried to piece together what had happened. He looked at his hands, wrapped excessively from well below his wrists to his knuckles. The raw skin covered by the bandages stung and still felt wet. They'd also stuck metal stabilizers between the layers of the wrap, then he remembered breaking his wrists to escape.
But he hadn't escaped. He was rescued. Wasn't he? Mac and Riley were there. Were they caught too? He remembered a box and darkness. Why was there a box? Nothing felt like it was coming together in his mind, and his head throbbed along with his pulse. He didn't want more drugs because he wanted to remember, but his joints hurt and his muscles burned.
He looked down at the extensive bruising along his ribs and the center of his chest, the movement causing a tickle in his throat that set off another set of deep painful coughs.
He adjusted the bed to roll onto his belly to be hit by a new set of aches and pains before he resigned to accept the drugs and drift back to sleep for a couple hours.
Riley, Mac, and Bozer were hanging out in Jack's room, silently attentive to their respective phones, as ordered by the staff, when Jack grumbled something unintelligible. He was on his side facing them, curled into a tight ball under a pile of blankets.
Riley shoved her phone into her pocket and approached him. "What was that, Jack?" She asked sweetly.
He pulled a blanket tighter to his neck and spoke louder but still thick from sleep, "I said my ASS is cold."
"Sorry," she apologized, finding the tiny space in his blanket nest letting the draft in and tucking it closed. She couldn't hide the pity on her face seeing her larger than life Delta dad reduced to a helpless pouty mess tangled up in a mound of blankets and wires. She'd never seen him this vulnerable before, and it hurt.
"Why don't you sit up and have something to drink." She encouraged. But he pulled a sheet all the way over his head with a grunt. She vigorously shook a plastic cup with a foil lid and continued in a sing song voice, "I have apple juice." He grunted again.
Bozer whispered to Mac, "I thought you said he wanted to see us."
"He was in a good mood earlier. Sorry." Mac apologized.
Riley tried again, "please. I promise this sugar will make you feel better." No response. "If you're not gonna do it for you, do it for me." She felt bad about trying to guilt trip him, but if it worked it was worth it.
He peeked out of the blanket and slowly dragged it to his chin, giving her the stink eye for even using herself as leverage. She couldn't help but smile at his furrowed brows, comically enhanced by his pitiful situation. She ruffled his hair and offered him a hand up.
He refused her help and argued, "I can sit up myself, I ain't broken."
The other 3 people in the room visibly disagreed, but didn't dare say a word. He braced himself with the bed rails and used all his power to roll to his back, pull his knees up, and get the bed inclined to a sitting position. He held the blanket tightly to his neck and pouted the entire time.
She tried to get him to lower the blanket, but he refused. "I'm naked under here." He griped.
Riley pierced the foil lid with a straw put it to his lips. Jack reluctantly took a sip and made a sour face that quickly turned to approval. He sucked down half of the cup before she stopped him.
"Take it easy." She pulled the cup away and he scowled. "You wanna watch tv?" She asked, remote already in hand, not waiting for an answer. She flipped through the small selection of available channels, not satisfied with anything she found.
Jack was obviously feeling better soon after and snaked his arm out of his cocoon to grab the juice when no one was looking. He even lowered the blanket to just below his shoulders and smiled when the TV landed on a channel playing Scooby Doo.
"We're going home today," Mac started and Jack flashed him a look of betrayal. "All of us," Mac corrected, "all of us are going home today... but Doc wants you to be sedated for the ride."
"We'd be with you the whole time," Riley tried to soften the blow.
"I hear your words but I don't get what you're saying." Jack tilted his head like a confused puppy.
"On the plane…" Mac stalled, "you...they…" he stuttered and then spit the rest of the sentence in one exhale, "you have to be strapped down to the gurney for the flight, and everyone feels like that would be detrimental to your mental health."
He licked his lips, thinking. "Ok. I see." He was apprehensive and still hadn't agreed.
Mac sighed and sagged in his chair. "We were going to do it anyway, without telling you, and I...I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't do that to you."
Jack blinked, looking at Mac, still without saying anything.
"Come on man, say something. Yell at me for even considering it." Mac pleaded.
"So you were going to do like the A-Team where B.A. is afraid to fly, so they drug his milk and drag him along. Is that what you're telling me?"
"Yeah, basically, but you have an IV, it's not that hard. Nurses are shooting stuff into that thing every two hours. You'd probably never even have known."
"Ok." Jack said with no expression on his face to read.
"Ok? What does that mean? Is that you giving consent to be drugged up for the flight home?" Mac tried not to let his frustration from his compounded guilt show.
Jack manipulated his eyebrows into a straight line, giving a stern look. "Yes." Riley and Mac let out a sigh of relief. "BUT only if you promise not to draw whiskers or devil horns or a dick on my face with a Sharpie."
Riley countered, "how about if we promise TO do that?"
"Even better." Jack agreed.
Riley added to her proposition, "And we'll sing karaoke, all of your favorite songs, and you'll be right there in the middle of it and you will never know it happened."
A knowing grin crept onto Jack's face, "Joke's on you, I'm smelling pretty ripe right now. Y'all are the ones gonna be stuck in close quarters with my gamey ass, I'll be sleepin'. My nose is broken and I can still smell me. I was gonna ask if they'd let me hop in the shower today, but now I think I'll stink out of spite."
Riley compromised, "maybe you should still work on that shower thing, and maybe we'll surprise you and not knock you out for the ride."
After dinner, the bed was lowered as far as it would go, and Jack dangled his legs over the side and braced himself for the exertion and pain he was about to endure. He knew it would be worth it, and he needed to get up and around anyway. Having his kids there to help was good, though he didn't like them to see him this helpless. The nurses had removed all of the bandages, disconnected all wires and tubes, and wrapped the IV port and the bullet hole in cellophane for the shower, leaving him in a pair of boxer shorts. Jack wasn't even sure where the underwear came from, but he was grateful for them regardless.
It was invigorating to Jack to be free of wires and bandages and braces, even if only for a short time. He wasn't enjoying the feeling of the tight cellophane, but he had no say in that. The cold air hitting the raw skin of his wrists stung, but was refreshing. His mind was clear as most of the drugs had run their course, leaving him with only ibuprofen to shield him from the pain. He felt like he was covered with a layer of filth, and could not wait to stand under a stream of hot water.
Mac and Riley stood on either side of him and each shouldered an arm to help Jack balance without putting too much weight on his leg. His shoulders screamed at the movement and his wrists weren't much better, but they trekked the 8 steps...more like slow shuffles across the room.
Mac hooked the leg of a shower stool with his foot and slid it into the shower as Riley turned the water on, both kids bearing his weight without any sign of struggle. Riley periodically checked the water temperature with her hand until it was suitable for Jack to sit in.
He tried not to be embarrassed, usually filling the silence cracking silly jokes, but the water felt so good on his neck and down his back, he stopped talking and relished in it. He wasn't sure how long he sat there in silence or what his kids were doing standing around awkwardly while he let the warm water wash over him. Jack slowly craned his neck upward to wet his hair, the movement and subsequent deep inhale triggered another coughing fit. All eyes were focused back on Jack as he gripped the bar in the shower stall and hacked and sputtered. When he finally stopped, his arm fell limply from the handrail and his chin dropped to his chest as he tipped forward. Mac stopped Jack's fall with an extended arm, not caring if he got soaked.
"Jack!" Riley yelled, not realizing how loud it was in the small room.
Mac stepped into the oversized shower stall to sit his friend back back up. He gripped Jack by the shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. "Hey Jack. Time to get out of here."
Jack slowly raised his head, eyelids fluttering open as he tried to orient himself. "Nah, man. I'm good. Just went a little deep with that cough. I got this."
"No way. You just passed out." Riley objected.
"Just for a second though. And I promise, I'm good." Jack argued gently. "Besides, my underwear's already soaked, might as well get clean since I have to change clothes."
Mac grabbed a bottle from his own bag on the bathroom counter and pumped the foam into Jack's hand so he could wash. The effort of putting his arms up to his hair was painful and came with an unintentional grunt.
"I can get that for you." Riley offered as she got some more soap from Mac without waiting for Jack to back down. She gently put her fingers through his hair and massaged lightly with her nails, hoping that his head wasn't throbbing too much from the concussion. He moaned quietly and relaxed into her hands, eyes closed for a long minute. "I'm gonna stop before you start shaking your leg like a dog."
Jack frowned with a disappointed whimper and snatched the bottle of soap from Mac and yanked the shower curtain closed like a petulant child. The pain of the movements took his breath away momentarily, but he immediately regained his composure when Mac jerked the curtain back open.
"Nope." Mac touted. "We promised the nurse we'd keep an eye on you."
"What am I gonna do? Escape?" He held his sudsy arms out to demonstrate how much of a threat he wasn't. "Ain't nobody at this rodeo paid to watch a greased pig contest."
"Jack." Mac sighed and his shoulders sagged, "you passed out like three minutes ago, we're not taking our eyes off you."
Jack sulked and pumped more soap onto his hands and washed his chest to exert his independence. As he washed his legs he pleaded while thumbing the waistband of his soaked shorts, "can I at least wash my private parts with some privacy?"
"Ew, ok, but please say something if you need help." Riley told him as she closed the curtain. As her hand crossed in front of her face she got a whiff of the soap Mac had brought. "What's that scent in your soap. It's not like anything I've smelled before."
"I don't know, I just grabbed something off the shelf at the store." Mac lied.
"It's nice." She smelled the back of her hand again. "Pleasant smell, not greasy, not drying. What is it?"
"I really don't remember. I just grabbed something for traveling because it has a foam pumper so you get a good lather regardless of how hard the water is wherever you go."
"That makes sense. Do they make it in a sweeter floral smell, like something slightly girlier?"
Mac shrugged, hoping she'd stop asking questions. "Jack, you still ok in there?" He spoke loudly over the water.
"Yep!" Jack hollered back. "Just washing my bits and pieces with your," Jack paused, no doubt reading the label on the bottle, his voice pitched slow and teasing and clearly amused using his embarrass Mac voice as he continued, "baby shampoo plus body wash."
Mac blushed and Jack could sense it from inside the shower. Like the patronizing big brother he was, Jack waited until Mac either explained scientific reasons to back up his use of baby shampoo or changed the subject altogether.
"Jack?" Mac called, an obvious subject change to quell his awkwardness. "You you going to shave too?"
He pondered for a moment. The beard growth itch was obnoxious, and with so many other cuts, stitches, tape, bandages, and other sticky things constantly touching his skin, he didn't want to add a scratchy beard to the stimuli. On the other hand, the itch may draw some attention away from the constant ache and pains from the 75% of his body that was injured. He was also exhausted, painfully so. Taking a shower may as well have been the same effort as running a marathon. "Nah. I think I'm all finished though. Where's my towel? I ditched those wet drawers."
Jack shut off the water and an arm holding a towel swung in front of his face. He was stuck just patting the water away in most places due to all of the broken skin and made quick work of it due to the pain of most of the movements. Jack grabbed the bar in the shower and used it to press himself into a standing position, grunting out loud at the pressure it put on his sprained wrist. He balanced mostly on one leg and wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking one corner to secure it for the trip back to the bed. He yanked the curtain open triumphantly, hoping his partners didn't notice how worn out the whole ordeal had made him.
"Your feet are still wet, you're gonna slip, Jack." Riley was sympathetic. She grabbed another towel and patted his calves and feet dry before placing the towel on the ground. "Now step. Get the bottoms dry too." She put her arm out inviting him to latch onto her shoulder so she could support him. Mac ducked under the other arm and they began their return trip to the bed. This time it wasn't as difficult since he'd been up and moving, but it was draining as he was on his last ounce of energy. He wasn't sure he could take another step once they'd finally reached the bed.
"Hey, someone brought you some scrub pants. Now you don't have to make the flight home naked." Mac joked as he grabbed the blue pants from the foot of the bed and unfurled them as he walked back to where Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I can put on my own pants." Jack huffed.
"I know you can, but if I let you, the nurse walking in the door right now would be pissed if you fell face first out of that bed. It would be my fault." Mac explained as the entering nurse nodded in agreement. She quickly dropped off a handful of items and left again. "Come on," Mac bent down and shook them open, "feet."
Jack snarled and complied, then grabbed the waistband once Mac pulled them up over his knees. He used every bit of strength he had left to pivot his hips and swing his legs back up onto the bed, lifting his hips in one swift move to pull the pants the rest of the way on underneath the towel...most of the rest of the way on. He'd only managed to pull them halfway over his butt, but no one needed to know that.
He flashed a satisfied smirk at them and grabbed the cup on the table for a drink of water, touting his false independence to reassure the others. Riley gathered the fresh blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it up to his chest.
"It's so cold in here, you're going to freeze to death." Riley explained. He was admittedly very cold and pulled the blanket up to his neck, snuggling into the pillows on the reclined bed. Within seconds he was snoring quietly.
The nurse returned and began to hook Jack back up to everything for his flight back home. He didn't even stir when she lowered the head of the bed to flat, he was completely spent from the shower. She attached the IV tubing to a saline drip and injected a few syringes into the port, followed by cardiac leads, a pulse oximeter, and blood pressure cuff. She fitted the oxygen mask over his face and secured the elastic gently behind his head.
Riley's eyebrows drew together with concern as she stood from her chair and slowly approached the bed. "I thought…"
"His O2 sat has been dropping since this morning, so this should help with that. But I'm also about to check blood as well just to make sure. It should be ok. With the pneumonia and all the activity today, it wasn't unexpected."
"Oh." Riley grimaced, not convinced that this was not as bad as she felt it was.
The nurse sensed her distress and tried to reassure her with a smile as she finished drawing blood from the crook of his elbow and applied pressure with a piece of gauze for a moment. Riley ruffled his still damp hair and looked to Mac for reassurance.
"See," the nurse pointed to one of the monitors, "better already. The transport guys should be here soon to get him packaged up for transfer."
Jack became aware of his body very quickly when he began to wake. He swatted the oxygen mask away from his face and attempted to sit up with a grunt.
"Slow down, cowboy. You're gonna bust your face when fall ass over teakettle out of that bed." The nurse told Jack, her back to him as she continued to input data into her tablet.
He took a second to adjust to his surroundings and take in where he was, the black scrubs, black sleeves that hooked around her pale thumbs, and a dark tight bun confirmed his suspicions. "Oh, it's you. I must have died and gone to hell."
"Damn straight." she turned her head to flash what was a mix between a grin and a smirk before turning back to her work.
He shifted his hips to try to ease his discomfort. "Gotta piss."
She tucked the tablet under her armpit and slid her dark framed glasses to the top of her head. She retrieved a bottle from a cabinet and handed it to Jack. He took no time moving to relieve himself.
"I was going to offer to excuse myself so you could have some privacy, but there you go." She raised an eyebrow.
"You're a quote unquote professional, I'm sure you've seen bodily functions before." Jack panted as he relieved himself.
"I guess you're right. I've seen you from the outside and inside." She remarked as she turned the screen toward him and swiped through pictures, "see, lots of new ones from this week. This is your brain, here's your lungs, oh and this is your heart, but from the inside out."
"How'd they manage that?"
"It's pretty unpleasant. Be glad you don't remember. I imagine you punched a few people trying to shove shit down your throat."
Jack shuddered. "Where's Mac?"
She looked at her watch. "A new record!" She feigned excitement. "You made it about 138 seconds before asking about your missing limb." She went back to her deadpan voice. "I sent him home. He looks almost as shitty as you do right now. Didn't want him falling out because then I'd feel compelled to pick him up off the ground and probably hurt my back, and they don't have a checkbox on the worker's comp forms for 'picking up a dumbass'."
"You're a real peach, you know that?"
"Yep. As hard and abrasive as the pit. Thanks." She snickered as she slid her glasses back down and continued to transfer records and stats from Reno into their own database. "Now that you're awake, which pained frowny face looks most like Jack right now?" She glanced back and forth between the pain scale and Jack's face.
"Nice glasses. Your coven of old hags not know a spell to correct vision problems yet?" Jack joked in a tired and gravelly voice.
"Shut it, old man. I see here that you also suffer from age related presbyopia." She tapped the chart with her tablet, "Now look, I drew eyebrows on this pain scale chart to make it more relatable to you and match your cro-magnon brow. Now tell me which one is you so I can put it in here and not have to look at that pile of rotting ground beef you call a face anymore."
"Why are you such a bitch? Is it because your parents had to tie a string of pork chops around your neck and starve the family dog just to get him to come near you."
"Nice to see the concussion didn't damage the part of your brain that makes you an asshole."
"Eight." Jack groaned.
"No shit? Really? That bad?" She almost felt bad for being so playfully nasty to him. If she were nice to him though, it would look suspicious. "I know you're not a fan of the strong stuff because it might dull your sense of stupid or something. You want...ibuprofen?"
"I'll take the good stuff." He closed his eyes and clutched his ribs in preparation for a cough. She raised the head of the bed and handed him a pillow to hug while he coughed.
"Good thing. Boss lady told me to holler at her when your ass wakes up. At least now you'll be trippin' balls when she comes to visit and you'll have an excuse for the dumb shit that comes out of your mouth."
He let out a snicker that opened the floodgates that were holding the cough in. He bent forward and hacked and coughed. She rubbed his back as he heaved and gagged. He leaned back onto the bed when he finished, huffing and panting between words. "I didn't know (gasp) your talons (gasp) could be so gentle."
"Congratulations, I didn't know a horse's ass could talk." She grabbed the oxygen cannula from next to the bed and put it on Jack, looping it around his ears. "And you better leave this on or I'll get creative with duct tape like your boy does." Nurse Austin threatened as she left the room and let the door shut gently behind her.
Jack closed his eyes and focused on his breathing to get it under control. No sooner than his breathing finally almost evened out, Matty walked in the door.
She greeted him with a warm smile. "Hey, Dalton. It's nice to finally see you with your eyes open."
"That bad, huh?" He asked, "even Audrey was nice to me for a second."
"Audrey as in Austin? The mean nurse?" Matty asked, floored when Jack confirmed. "That's impressive. Either she's going soft or you're looking pretty pathetic." He made a pouty face, which wasn't that much different than his normal face at that point. "I even had one of the best Beverly Hills plastic surgeons on standby in case your nose needed to be repaired."
"That is the sweetest thing you've ever done for me." Jack pretended to blink away tears.
"Well I need Jack Dalton, not Frank Castle."
Jack balked in astonishment. "Director Webber, did you just make a comic book reference?" Her response was a wide grin, interrupted by a single knock and the door opening.
"Nurse Austin," Matty greeted with sweetness dripping from her words, "I thought vampires had to be invited in."
"Good one, sir." The stern faced nurse cracked a one sided smile and offered Matty a fist bump that was reciprocated. She dropped the folded blanket she was carrying on top of Jack's feet and circled the bed.
She injected the medication into the IV and held the button flatten the bed. "Push the two way button if you need anything, but just know that if you interrupt my telenovelas with something asinine, I will only communicate with you using Snoop Dogg lyrics." She unfolded the blanket that had been warmed and covered him up to his shoulders. He exhaled with a sigh of overwhelming comfort. Jack was ready to go back to sleep already.
At the door to leave she gave nod to Matty and pointed to Jack as she exited, "Enjoy your nap you inbred knuckle fuck."
Matty shook her head, amused, "none of those words go together at all, but that was masterful."
"It's the delivery." Jack yawned and rolled to his side. "Matty," he looked directly at her, his eyes pleading, "what happened?" She gave him a sympathetic look for a long moment, not breaking eye contact. "I don't remember much of anything, and I couldn't ask Mac, not after...was that today? Or yesterday? I don't even know what day it is. I only know I'm at the Phoenix because the rooms are nicer and I know that angry little nurse can't actually spend more than half an hour traveling because of ptsd. But I wasn't here last time I went to sleep. I'm just...I don't...it's like some kind of weird Leo DiCaprio movie."
"Like Inception or Revenant?"
"Both. And it's…" the drugs started to make him sluggish. He blinked hard to attempt to focus as a tear rolled down across the bridge of his nose. He struggled to remember what he was going to say and became more upset.
Matty placed her palm on his cheek with a maternal fondness. "Rest, Jack. We're still putting all the pieces together, but I'll make sure to let you know once we know."
Riley watched Jack squirm and whimper for the third time in five minutes. The blanket covering his bare chest had been flung off in a sleep fit exposing the excessive damage to his sternum and ribcage; the sickly yellow and dark purple bruising a stark contrast to the white cardiac leads still monitoring his heart. "Mac, I want to wake him up." She looked to her brother for approval. When Mac gave a noncommittal answer, she pleaded, "he's like a little puppy having a nightmare." She pondered another moment, "screw it, I'm waking him up."
Riley tentatively placed her hand in Jack's hair and brushed it back a few times calling his name softly. His breathing quickened and his legs kicked out weakly; his eyes shot open as he grabbed her wrist in a death grip despite his wrapped hands and broken thumb.
"Jack!" Riley gasped and tried to step back and pull away from his grip. "It's me. It's me! Jack!" He was panting, dark eyes wild when they met hers. Once recognition finally hit, he released her and apologized repeatedly under his breath, repeating it like a mantra. She tried to reassure him, "it's ok, Jack. You're ok." He grabbed her arm again, still quietly repeating his 'I'm sorry' as he pulled her down to into an embrace.
He pressed her cheek into his chest and kissed the top of her head still repeating, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm so sorry." He brushed her hair with his hand and kissed the top of her head again squeezing her tight.
"It's ok, Jack. You didn't hurt me." Riley sounded apologetic for waking him.
He was almost in tears, "I was going to."
"But you didn't. You knew it was me, you were just spooked." She put her hand in his hair again, and he leaned into it. "See, just me." She moved her hand back and forth soothingly.
Mac was ready to break the uncomfortable tension in the room. "We brought you something to eat, big guy. From your favorite barbeque place." Mac reached into a brown paper bag that was sitting on a countertop.
Jack hadn't even noticed Mac was in the room until he'd spoken. "You flew all the way to Texas just to get food for me?" Jack joked, eyes brighter and excited.
"Your favorite local barbecue place. We even got you a gigantic sweet tea." Mac held up a ridiculously large white styrofoam cup.
"Awesome. I'm starving." Jack scooted himself up and raised the head of the bed while Riley pushed the bed tray over his lap. He opened the carryout container as Mac put a straw into the cup for him. "Is this a kids meal? There's like no food here."
"Nurse Austin told us to tell you that we had to pay the bridge troll half of your dinner as a toll." Riley confessed. "But I think it's actually because you haven't eaten in a couple of days and she didn't want you to get sick." Jack made a lopsided smile followed by a chuckle. "What's her deal? How can she be that horrible and still have a job?"
"Long story short?" Jack continued without waiting for an answer, "She was a medic on the TAC team until a helicopter accident about 7 years ago. They won't clear her for field work so DXS put her through nursing school to stay with the agency. They don't wanna waste that high of a security clearance by getting rid of her, plus no one complains." He shrugged and awkwardly shoveled a fork full of pulled pork, unable to get his normal grip with the wrist brace. "Oh wow. Even at room temperature, it's so good." He tried to exclaim around the food in his mouth and tucked it into one cheek. "How long you been sitting here with this?" He swallowed painfully and chased it with a gulp of tea.
"About an hour." Mac looked at his watch.
"I don't even know what day it is. Or how much time has passed. It's kinda surreal. How long have we been back in LA?" Jack asked as he took another bite hoping his kids didn't notice how stiff his movements were.
Mac shrugged, "Twelve hours, give or take. The nurse said you were asleep for about five hours after we landed and then another 6 after that."
"Shit. That's like Garfield level lazy."
Riley chimed in, "and I hope that's what you're in store for tomorrow too. You've been through a lot. You need to rest."
"I ain't complainin'," Jack put his fork down after the third bite, exhausted from the effort and feeling sick from the reintroduction of delicious greasy food into his body. "It's like that time in college me and all my roommates got mono."
Mac sensed he was finished eating and closed the take-out box and removed it from the tray as he spoke, "I'm going to stop you right there before your drug addled brain over-shares that particular story that neither of us need to hear." Jack's response was a stifled giggle and a light stretch, rounding out his back up to his shoulders until he was more relaxed and comfortable. "We'll just get out of your hair." Mac announced, not really wanting to leave.
"Nah. Hang out. We can watch tv." Jack told them wanting the comfort of their presence.
The words were music to Riley's ears. She propped her feet up near the foot of Jack's bed, seated in a chair right next to him. She grabbed the remote, thankful that TV in Phoenix medical wasn't typical hospital standard issue. They were interrupted by a scheduled check in.
Nurse Audrey breached the doorway with her usual smug smirk as she approached the side of the bed where Mac was seated, "Sup, Jackass."
Jack's response was quick. "That's real original. You getting your material from the schoolyard now?"
She ignored his remark and asked and pointed to the chart with comically drawn eyebrows, "How's your pain?"
"Four." He lied.
She pulled a disapproving face which was only slightly different than her normal scowl. "Same stuff as before?" She asked, aware he was downplaying his pain in the presence of the other two agents. He nodded his affirmation. "Up on your side. Gotta check this road rash again, you've been on it too long."
He rolled over, holding his breath to brace for the pain and exertion it would take. He settled on his side to face Riley and met her eyes with a genuine smile. She couldn't help but smile back, and sat up straight in her chair to put his hand between hers.
The nurse uncovered and inspected the abrasions up his back and shoulder, the blood had seeped through the pad and to the sheets. "You gonna cry like a baby if I put a stitch in a couple of these spots? They're just...oozing...still."
"I couldn't deny you the opportunity to inflict pain, now could I?"
"You're not as dumb as you look." She told him, squeezing his bicep in a surprisingly comforting move. "I'll be back in a few. Don't move." She walked toward the door and stopped on the way out, "lidocaine or no?"
"Let's just get it over with." Jack groaned in defeat.
Riley rubbed his hand reassuringly and flashed a look of pity when their eyes met again. He didn't like her seeing him that way or feeling sorry for him, so he averted his eyes to their intertwined hands.
"Nice ring." He grinned at his oversized ring sitting on her middle finger.
"I stole it off some old man. Didn't think he'd miss it."
Meanwhile, Mac on the other side of the bed tried to not look at the damage to Jack's back. The image of Jack being dragged across the floor was burned into his brain.
After a several minutes and a coughing fit later, Audrey came back in with her "basket of goodies" and started with the pain relief. She dawdled a bit, pretending to update information in a tablet to give the drugs some time to work before beginning.
"I'm glad you're home." Riley told him quietly, as if they were having a private conversation. "I was really worried about you."
"You know you don't have to worry about your Terminator. Until I fall into a vat of molten lava, you can count on me to come back." He blinked, confused. "Shit, that was supposed to come out different."
"I didn't miss your Arnold impersonation, I get what you're trying to say." She put her fingers through the front of his hair, and he responded with a chuckle and a dopey smile.
The nurse set up her things and started to clean the wounds. She kicked Mac in the foot with her shoe, "go wash your hands."
A bit stunned by the request, or demand, he did as he was told and sat back down quickly. Mac asked timidly, "do I need gloves?"
"Hell no." She traced an old jagged scar on Jack's side with a gloved finger. "I take it this is your handiwork?"
Mac wanted to explain that it was in the field without any proper equipment or even a first aid kit, but he was pretty sure she already knew and was just giving him a hard time. He nodded.
"So we will leave this to the professionals and let the nerdy kid do his work in the field." She grabbed his hand by the wrist and placed it on Jack's side just above his waist. "Don't let him roll over on me."
While Mac knew this was a valid request, he didn't think it was purely a defensive move and more for Jack's own comfort. She'd noticed Mac's attempt to distance himself from the situation, and forced him to come to terms with that quickly. He gave Jack a light squeeze to let him know he was there. Jack put his hand on top of Mac's and was scolded by Audrey like a puppy when his elbow came up into her work area. "No, sir. Down."
Riley guided Jack's hand back into her own and held it gently. He didn't even flinch when she started stitching, and dozed off quickly, surrounded and comforted by his kids.