.
Hazard Pay
Jack stood with Betty and Sheldon outside Will's room, peering in through the glass as nurses worked on him and a doctor explained the boy's condition. "He's not so bad. Got off easy all things considered. His left leg was broken in three places. His right arm was broken in two. He has some cracked ribs and whiplash, and we're monitoring a back injury, but overall, he came out of it incredibly lucky," the doctor said.
"Thank you, Doctor," Gemini said.
"Do you happen to know the next of kin of the young man we brought to trauma?" the doctor asked.
"Why?" Betty immediately asked, looking quickly over.
"We're obligated to alert his parents or significant other about his condition in case the worst should happen," the doctor replied.
Jack, eyes fixed on his son, said, "I'm next of kin." It was an outright lie, but it wasn't like Hank's actual next of kin would care. Betty and Sheldon started, looking at him in shock with eyes wide. Jack ignored the looks and turned to the man. "How is he?"
The doctor sighed. "He received the brunt of it. Both legs were broken. Debris impaled a thigh and punctured an artery. Whiplash, broken arm - the one he threw in front of the boy to protect him no doubt - broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung which is why he needed to be put on ventilation, internal bleeding from an intestinal wound... A head injury too with some concerning swelling in the brain."
"Concussions for both then, I assume?" Gemini asked.
"Yes, but the older's concussion is the least of our worries at the moment," the doctor answered.
"Can I see him?" Jack asked defeatedly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hench, but his stability is questionable right now," the doctor solemnly replied.
Jack let out a breath. "How much help will he need when he gets out of here? What are we looking at?" he asked.
"Wheelchair for a while, most likely. Until his legs heal. A femur was broken in one," the doctor said.
Gemini hissed a bit, visibly wincing. "Ooh," he said.
"Painful?" Jack asked.
"Excruciating," Gemini replied.
"Long recovery time?" Jack asked.
"It depends on the circumstances," Gemini replied.
"What does that mean for Hank?" Jack asked.
"It means he's going to need help doing a lot of basic things he's used to doing by himself. At least until he heals," the doctor replied. "Excuse me. I need to go check on my patients. We'll talk more when I know more." Turning, he walked away.
Jack, Betty, and Gemini watched after him before turning to one another. "Sheldon, elaborate," Jack said.
Gemini frowned at him, narrowing his eye a bit, and crossed his arms. "He's saying the young man's parents or significant other will have their hands very full for some time," he said.
"That young man's parents would rather sit back and watch him die," Jack replied, a bitter note in his voice. "Now what level of care are we talking about?"
Gemini raised an eyebrow, then sighed, rolling his eye. "It's been a long time since I did any training in first aid, Jack. My best guess is he'll need help with everything. He can't wheel a wheelchair efficiently with a broken arm. Not without a great deal of practice. He won't be able to walk, he won't be able to get into bed without help, he won't be able to go to the bathroom on his own… Once the arm heals, he'll be able to get onto a seat himself or into a bed, but he won't be able to get off again. Not without practice. He certainly won't be doing much for cooking for some time, or any activity around the house really. In short, if he's active, energetic, and independent – and what little I know of him tells me he's all that and more – then this will be torture for him. If he's timid or self-conscious, it will also be humiliating. If he's determined and resourceful, he might figure out alternative methods for some things, but that will take time and practice. What are you thinking? The best care aides money can buy?"
Jack snorted in derision, crossing his arms. "The poor kid would be mortified. He had no one growing up. His uncle was a distant presence because Hank's parents actively worked to keep the extended family out of their business. His entire life has been spent doing everything on his own because needing help made him a burden and an inconvenience. It caused the people he should have been able to love and trust, to resent him. He wasn't supposed to need help. He was supposed to have it all figured out on his own so they didn't need to spare him a second thought. When you're used to doing everything solo, suddenly having people there helping you is unsettling, frightening, and more than a little embarrassing," he said. He began to pace in agitation, considering this situation. "I'll take on that boy's care myself. Then again, that might not go over so well with him. Probably mortify and scar the poor thing for life. I'd be lucky if he ever looked me in the eye again, so care aides might be non-negotiable. That way he won't be dealing directly with me. I'll just be providing the luxury hospital room and a helping hand when things get rough." He paused, considering the situation, completely unaware of the blatant shock on Dr. Director's face or the disbelief written on Gemini's. "He's staying with me right now. Long story."
"Homecare workers can't be there twenty-four-seven, Jack," Dr. Director pointed out.
"Rotation," he replied.
"Expensive," Gemini said.
"Multi-billionaire," Jack replied, turning around and spreading his arms with a sardonic smirk.
"From the sounds of it, the last thing Mr. Perkins wants to be is your charity case," Gemini replied.
"Investment," Jack corrected.
"In your eyes, but not his," Gemini argued. "How willing was he to even come and stay with you in the first place?"
Jack grimaced a bit. "It wasn't so much he didn't want to as he felt like it would be inconvenient for me."
"Then it's not a matter of the boy not wanting help, it's a matter of him not trusting that help, and not wanting to be a burden," Gemini said.
Jack was quiet. "When a person does everything for you and you feel like you can't do a fraction as much for them, it eats you up inside. You just want to get away from it or lash out," he grimly said. He understood that from his dealings with Senor Senior when he'd just been starting out. He sighed, shoving the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Defense mechanism. Like a wounded animal."
"Precisely. When most everyone you've ever met has only seemed interested in hurting you, a helping hand is just a pending backstab," Gemini said. "Hansel and Gretel in the witch's house. Bring them inside, keep them warm, welcome them with open arms, give them everything they desire, make them trust, make them let their guard down… Then turn around and try to cook them alive in an oven." There was a beat. "You're the witch," he flatly added.
Jack gave him a sharp, annoyed look. "I got that," he dryly answered.
"Besides that, your taking this on would be a Herculean feat! You don't have the slightest idea how to play nurse, let alone play nurse at the same time you're trying to run a company packed to the brim with high-maintenance clientele," Gemini said.
"Then I'll step in," Dr. Director said. Gemini and Jack started, turning to her in surprise. She was watching them coldly, arms crossed.
Jack winced a bit. "Hank is my responsibility, Dr. Director, not yours. I never meant to make him yours," he said. "Things have been complicated enough for us over the years without throwing another spanner into the works. That's why I largely kept him to myself and away from you and Will."
"Because you fell in love with the sad little orphan kitten in the window but already had a problematic pup at home you couldn't handle," Gemini said.
"What's with you and the analogies today?" Jack demanded testily of him, frowning.
"Sheldon, go check on Will," Dr. Director said. "Jack, we need to talk." Jack grimaced a bit then scowled at Sheldon like it was his fault. "Don't blame him for this!" she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. Gemini snickered cruelly then looked in at Will. His smile slowly fell. The nurses were about to leave the boy alone. He hated seeing his nephew like this, so battered and bruised and so clearly in pain. Still unconscious though, which was probably a blessing in disguise. He was sure it wasn't his Uncle whose face Will wanted to see first when he woke up. He'd want his parents instead. Sighing, Gemini entered the room and crossed to the boy, sitting at his bedside and resting a hand gently on his forehead looking tired.
KP
Dr. Director led Jack outside and to a private little corner of the hospital yard, then turned around and leaned against a wall to glare at him. "You don't get to lock your wife and son out of such a big part of your life," she harshly whispered.
"He wasn't supposed to become a big part of my life," Jack hissed in defense.
"But he is, Jack! Now he is! I knew you liked him more than most, but how big has this gotten? How attached are you to this boy?" she asked.
Jack shifted a little uncomfortably and wouldn't meet her eyes. "He's twenty-four," he quietly said.
"A boy! His brain hasn't even finished developing yet!" Dr. Director said.
"He's a protégé I just so happen to be particularly fond of. That's it," Jack insisted.
"Maybe he started out that way, but he's clearly more than that now," she replied. Jack wisely chose to keep quiet, though he looked frustrated. "Will seemed to think it went deeper. A lot deeper," she quietly said.
"Will is jealous daddy's suddenly paying attention to someone else," Jack replied.
She shook her head. "That's not what it sounded like when he spoke to you on the phone," she said. "And even if it was, whatever jealousy he's feeling clearly isn't that petty." Jack was quiet. "Our son is afraid he's lost or is losing you," she gently added.
"Which is exactly why I kept him out of this! My business with Hank is my business. Will doesn't need to worry himself sick over me bonding with some kid that isn't him," Jack said.
"That you've kept him under wraps for so long is exactly what's worrying him sick! Think of the questions probably going through his head right now. Why the secrecy? Why is dad suddenly hoarding away some college boy and keeping him hidden from me? Does he have a whole second life I don't know about? Has he decided he's had enough of me and is moving on? Did I screw up so badly that I've lost him forever? Is he going to cut me out of his life because he's found something better?" she said, counting them off with her fingers.
"I get the picture!" Jack testily snapped. He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his head. "It wasn't supposed to get to this point," he said.
"The moment it started to change, you could have at least told me," she tiredly said.
"Hon, I didn't even notice when it started happening," Jack replied.
Betty sighed. She got it, she really did. "What is he to you at this point?" she soon asked.
"I don't know, Betty! I don't know!" Jack shouted, stress levels skyrocketing.
She was quiet, watching him quietly and reading him. "Why didn't you tell me?" she finally and calmly asked. "Did you think I would be angry? Hurt? Offended? Were you afraid I'd tell you to cut him out of your life or back off? Were you figuring I'd try and make you give him up?"
"I'm taking him under my wing, not adopting him!" Jack said, throwing his hands up in the air.
Betty bit her lower lip in frustration. She hated this part of her husband. The part that fooled even himself. It only ever happened when he put up every defensive wall he had and hardened his shell on top of that just to make it impossible for you to crack through. At least when using a direct approach. Fortunately, she'd learned long ago how to sneak past those defenses. You didn't get confrontational with Jack Hench. Sometimes you couldn't help it, but whenever possible, you avoided getting confrontational. You couldn't pierce the armor when you were being confrontational. He just dug his heels in. Even to his own detriment. Fortunately for him, he'd always been good at turning detriment into benefit. What you did instead was subtly poke and prod and chip away until you'd carved a tiny little hole in those defenses. Oftentimes that even opened his eyes to himself.
"From the moment I saw him, I knew he was different than the others," she quietly said. He continued refusing to meet her eyes. "Tell me about him." Silence. "Does he remind you of yourself?" she asked.
"Have I ever been that shallow?" he asked.
"If he reminds of yourself, it's the farthest thing from shallow," she replied. "It means that right from the start, you knew him on a deeper level than you realized. It means that right from the start, you understood him unlike anyone else."
Jack wrapped his arms tightly around himself and was silent. "He needs me," he finally, quietly, said. "He doesn't have anyone else."
"You bonded to him. Some connection formed between you two the day you first met," she said.
"Idon't know why or how it happened, but it did," Jack said, starting to pace a bit.
"The next thing you know, he's imprinted on you, and you've imprinted on him, and suddenly it's not just business anymore," she guessed. Jack was quiet. "Maybe part of the reason Will feels threatened is because you didn't choose to be bonded to him. It just happened. You chose Hank, though. There was no blood tie. No chemical reaction went off inside your head and rewired your brain. You actively and purposely chose him. You were saddled with Will."
"That is not…!" Jack began, turning on her.
"I don't mean that as it sounds," she said. "I mean you started out with an advantage when it came to our son, and with nothing when it came to Hank. You know how pragmatic Will is. You know how he probably took it when he started suspecting how close you actually were to Hank." Silence again. She sighed. "At least we've been brought into the fold now. That's a start. We'll work up from there. Jack, if Hank is going to be such a large part of your life, let us be involved too. I'm willing to be. Gemini and Will might take a little work, but they'll warm up to the idea." He didn't answer. "The young man interested me from the moment I first met him. It takes someone particularly special to draw your eye. You have a knack for spotting diamonds in the rough," she said, urging him a bit more.
"That I do," he dryly said, rolling his eyes. To his own ruin, he inwardly noted. "Fine. No more keeping him to myself."
She smiled a little. "We should go back. Will shouldn't have to wake up without at least one of us there. Neither should Hank," she said. He nodded in agreement, she nodded back, and the two headed inside again.
KP
Will's eyes flickered slowly open. He was confused for a moment, frowning a bit before slowly the memories came back and his eyes widened a little, his blurry vision clearing up. There, hovering above him looking exhausted, were his parents and Uncle. "M-mom, dad, Uncle Sheldon?" he said.
"Hey champ," Jack said with a strained smile, running a hand through the boy's hair. Will felt far too warm, he decided.
Will whimpered, leaning into the touch. "Dad?" he asked, voice breaking.
"Shh, shh. It's okay," Jack promised, cupping the boy's cheek briefly. "Everything's going to be fine."
"Oh sweetie," his mom said, leaning over him and embracing him gently as Jack stepped back a bit.
"Where's Hank?" Will asked, sounding a bit anxious.
"Alive," Jack replied.
"Will he be okay?" Will asked.
Silence. Jack let out a shaking breath and bowed his head, closing his eyes. "They don't know," he confessed. Will looked stunned, then stared up at the roof numbly, guilt shining in his eyes.
"They're doing everything they can, Will," Gemini said. "It's not nearly as bad as it could have been. The odds are very good he'll make it. He's young, strong, and full of… exuberance, we'll call it." Jack frowned at him, unimpressed. Will huffed a laugh, then hissed in pain.
"Take it easy, sweetheart. Your body went through a lot of trauma," Dr. Director said. Will nodded.
Jack rose. "I'm going to go check on Hank. I don't want him to wake up alone," he said.
"Why didn't they put him in the same room as me?" Will asked.
"We'll see if we can't change that, okay Champ?" Jack asked with a fond smile. That was a good sign, he hoped. His son's concern for his 'rival', that was.
"Don't go out of your way," Will dryly said. Jack chuckled and left the room hoping that by now Hank would be okayed for visitors.
KP
Jack decided he hated the mass of tubes and wires hooked up to the young man. He gazed anxiously down at the unconscious body. They'd managed to stop the bleeding and control the brain swelling, so that was a plus, but Hank was far from well-off. Jack sat on the bedside and reached out, placing his hand on the young man's forehead. He felt feverish like Will, and Jack wasn't too pleased about that one either. Hank stirred a bit, and slowly his eyes flickered open. They fell on him, and Jack smiled tiredly. Hank, for just a moment, looked completely overwhelmed like he couldn't believe anyone would have actually been there when he woke up. He reached slowly up and touched his oxygen mask with his good arm. He looked confused for a moment before figuring out what it was and carefully lifting it. "Where's Will?" he asked before bursting into a coughing fit.
Gently Jack pressed the mask over his face again. "He's alright," Jack said. Some broken bones, a concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, whiplash, a fever, and a minor back injury he should recover from easily enough. "You're the one I'm worried about."
"I probably shouldn't be, sir," Hank said, looking unsure about that. Especially after hearing Will's goodbye to the man.
"You have no idea how bad off you are, do you Perkins?" Jack asked. "Will will recover just fine. You're still up in the air."
Hank looked momentarily afraid. "What?" he quietly asked.
"You got the brunt of it. Both legs broken in multiple places, one of which was broken in the femur. Debris impaled a thigh and punctured an artery. You got a badly broken arm too, in multiple places. They say it's probably because you threw it out in front of Will to try and protect him," Jack said. Hank winced a bit. "Multiple broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung. That's why you're on oxygen right now. Internal bleeding from a stomach wound. Large intestine, I believe the doctors determined. You have a bad head injury, whiplash, and a fever as well, it feels like."
"I'll be right as rain in no time, sir, don't you worry," Hank replied, forcing a grin but clearly really not liking his diagnosis.
"You're going to need a lot of help doing a lot of basic things you're used to doing on your own you know," Jack said, breaching the more sensitive subject as carefully as he could. Hank stiffened a bit. "Crippled yourself pretty bad, kiddo."
Hank was quiet. "For how long?" he nervously asked.
"I don't know. Not forever, but probably for a while. "Depending on how bad it was, you could be up and at 'em again in three months. With the proper physical therapy and the proper care, that is. Might be less for you, given how determined and energetic you are." Hank was quiet, looking uncertain. "Hey, you'll have the best help there is, okay?"
"I can't do repairs on my house if I'm in a wheelchair or using crutches," Hank anxiously said. "If both legs are broken, how will going to the bathroom work? Getting to bed? Cooking? Using stairs? Driving?"
"Chauffeur, elevator, help, practice and some help, and practice and some help," Jack replied.
Hank looked a bit mortified at that realization. "Sir, I really, really would rather not have help going to the bathroom, if at all possible," he said.
"It's not," Jack bluntly said.
Hank winced and looked concerned. "Do my parents know?" he quietly asked.
"No," Jack replied.
Hank looked relieved. "Good. Are we… talking home aides?" he asked.
"If you feel that's what you need or want," Jack replied.
"They can't be there twenty-four-seven," Hank said. "What do I do when they go? What if something happens? What if…?"
"You're staying with us," Dr. Director's voice said from the door. Jack and Hank started, looking quickly over, Hank with eyes wide. "Either in my house or in Jack's. I'll make it a point to make myself available whenever possible. So will Jack, and if he's persuasive enough, so will Gemini. Your quick thinking probably saved our son's life, so now we'll help you maintain your own."
"But-but Dr. Director, I don't want to be a…!" Hank began.
"Burden? You won't be," she replied, approaching him and examining his injuries. She met his eyes. "We'll clear all of this up sooner than later. You don't have to worry about anything, okay hon?"
"But-but…" Hank began.
"No buts. We'll be happy to help you after you got our son out of that mess alive," Dr. Director said, smiling warmly at him to try and make him feel more at ease.
"But-but…" he began again.
"It's us or strangers in a decrepit house, Hank," Jack said.
Hank shifted a bit. "Can I think about it?" he quietly asked.
"Will you actually make the best decision for yourself, or will you make what you perceive to be the best decision for us?" Jack asked. "If you do, we'll still be stopping by regularly."
Hank was quiet. "I'll think about it," he said in a tighter voice.
"Take your time," Jack replied. "The doctors will be back soon to check up on you and explain your courses of action. They've already brought in a wheelchair and a couple of crutches." He gestured to the two things.
Hank looked over. "Can you bring them closer so I can see them up close?" he asked.
"Sure thing, kiddo," Jack replied, standing up and bringing them over.
"The doctors want to discuss Will's course of treatment. We should be there," Dr. Director said, looking at Jack.
Jack nodded and looked at Hank. "I'll be back soon."
"So will I. They'll probably want to run through your course of treatment too and if we're going to be your helpers, it's probably best if we know what they recommend. Are you okay with that?"
"Yes ma'am," Hank said, though his anxious expression wasn't reassuring.
"Everything will be alright, Mr. Perkins," Jack said, squeezing his shoulder lightly with a smile, then rising and leaving with Dr. Director. Hank watched helplessly after them, then looked at the wheelchair and crutches uneasily.
KP
"Your son is doing remarkably well," the doctor remarked the next day as they watched Will go through some exercises in annoyance, looking irritated with all of this. "Don't let him move too much or too rapidly, though, until the back strain sorts itself out. It'll take one to four weeks, thereabouts, as long as he moves carefully and doesn't aggravate it."
"My money's on one," Jack flatly said, shaking his head at his son with arms crossed. The kid's resilience was through the roof. You didn't knock Will down without him jumping right back up. Again and again and again. Even if it was stupid to try.
"Even if you're right, he's not going on a field mission until his bones are healed," Dr. Director said. "I'd opt for until everything heals if I didn't already know how well that would go over."
"Doctor, when did we start work on the other young man?" a nurse asked, coming in. Jack and Betty started, looking quickly at her.
"Excuse me?" the doctor asked, confused.
"The other young man. When did we start working with him?" she asked again.
"What do you mean?" the doctor asked.
"He's already wheeling around in his wheelchair. I assumed someone had transferred him into it and given him some pointers," she replied.
"I'm sorry, what?" Jack asked incredulously. The doctor hurried out in some concern. Jack exchanged looks with Betty, then followed. She made to pursue but then paused. Maybe it was best not to be too pushy right now while they were still sorting through all these new dynamics. Before she got too involved, it would probably be wise to build up a repertoire with Hank. Otherwise, it might feel intrusive. Jack could handle this alone.
KP
Jack gaped in disbelief at what he was seeing, eyes wide. Sure enough, Hank was attempting to wheel around in the wheelchair on his own and was actually sort of getting somewhere, but not enough for it to matter. The doctor hurried inside, and Hank looked quickly up like he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Which he had. He wasn't supposed to be off all those machines right now or even out of that bed. Jack was quick to follow the doctor inside.
"Mr. Perkins, please. You really shouldn't be out of bed right now," the doctor was saying.
"Don't worry sir. I'm figuring it out just fine," Hank replied.
"The punctured lung, the head injury, the brain swelling, the stomach wound!" the doctor insisted, clearly flustered and alarmed.
"I've never felt better," Hank brushed off.
"Perkins, I'm going to say this only once. Helping you out is no skin off our back. We're happy to do it. How about you not push yourself harder than you need to right now?" Jack said, crossing his arms and shaking his head in amusement.
"Sir, it's really not necessary for you to go out of your way and help me. I can figure it all out. I always do," Hank said.
"I know, but it's about time you took a break from figuring everything out on your own and let someone else figure things out for you for a while," Jack said. "You have enough on your plate, son. Alleviating the burden is to my benefit and more importantly, to yours. Now do as the nice man says, okay?" Hank blinked then gave him an unimpressed frown for the patronizing tone. Jack chuckled. "You'll be out of here before you know it. You and Will both. Then we'll do that dinner we were planning," he added
Hank shifted a little. "Okay," he quietly and uncertainly replied.
Jack smiled and approached, taking the wheelchair. "Come on. Back to bed," he said, pushing him back to it. Hank looked around like he wasn't quite sure what to make of being helped. The doctor and Jack laid him back down, and he stared hopelessly up at the roof clearly hating every second of this. Jack left to give the young man some alone time with the doctor so the man could try and explain the situation to him more clearly and get the point across how important it was to keep still right now, then he and Betty would join up for the treatment plan debrief later.
KP
They were in the hospital for a few days before Hank and Will were cleared to leave, Hank in a wheelchair and looking glum, and Will looking genuinely concerned for the other as he limped along on crutches. "It won't be so bad, Mr. Perkins," Gemini, who was pushing the chair, said.
"Mr. Hench, I'm sorry about the car!" Hank blurted to Jack, looking anxious.
"This many days before an apology? That's a new record. Look, Hank, forget the car. I certainly did. Write-off, simple as that," Jack said. "It can be replaced later."
"You bought him a car?!" Will demanded.
"Company vehicle, son. HenchCo special. Strong and resilient. Probably the only reason you two are still alive right now. FYI, when you're looking at cars for yourself, seriously consider putting aside your stubborn pride and going with my make instead of GJs," Hench said.
"GJ's are perfectly safe and more useful besides. Parachutes, flotation devices… They can go submarine and hovercar for pete's sake!" Dr. Director replied.
"Ooh, I should take notes," Jack replied.
She frowned at him, narrowing her eyes in an unimpressed manner. "He's going with GJ."
"Or I could just, you know, get a typical reliable car?" Will flatly said.
"Spy driving," Dr. Director bluntly said.
Will started and considered this. "Point taken," he reluctantly admitted.
"GJs designs tend to turn faulty at the most inconvenient of times. HenchCo's don't. I'll specially make a car for you if I have to, Will, one that mimics GJ's, just go with HenchCo technology please," Jack said. "Same with you, Perkins."
"I'm HenchCo all the way sir," Hank replied.
"Of course you are!" Will testily snapped.
"Enough bickering. We have a very, very late dinner to get to," Gemini said. "It should give us a little time to be informed of your experience at Upperton U as well as afford us the opportunity to get to know Mr. Perkins a bit more."
"Oh, there's really nothing to know Mr. Gemini sir," Hank replied. "It's Agent Du's celebratory dinner anyway." Will scoffed, rolling his eyes and sliding into the car in annoyance. Hank, of course, attempted to get out of the wheelchair himself and into the car, but was having some difficulty with it. Nonetheless, Jack and Dr. Director held back a moment to see if he'd manage.
"Oh for the love of… Just ask for help, Hank!" Will snapped.
"No. I can do this," Hank replied.
"Within the next hour?" Will bit.
Hank gave him a look then sighed, rolling his eyes, and turned nervously to Jack and Dr. Director. "Um, c-could I…?" he uneasily began.
"Of course, Mr. Perkins," Jack replied, moving forward. Dr. Director slid into the back seat first, scooting into the middle seat. Will looked at her in surprise, as did Jack and Gemini.
"It's going to be far more comfortable for everyone if I sit back here with the boys. We're all smaller-framed. Take a guess as to how well you and Gemini would fit," she said.
"Point taken," Jack relented with a grimace. He and Gemini were much bigger built than Will, Hank, and Dr. Director. He gently maneuvered Hank into the seat. Hank, of course, went to buckle his own seatbelt, but with one broken arm on the wrong side of his body, it took him a minute. Jack got into the driver's seat and Gemini climbed into the passenger's, then off they went.
KP
Dinner was not in fact spent celebrating Will's accomplishment. It was touched on, yes, but Will kept the summary brief, not really wanting to focus too much on it, so instead most of the dinner was spent on Dr. Director rapid-firing questions at Hank that ranged from personal to casual as she tried to get a better sense of him. She'd never not liked Hank, just hadn't really known much about him. Hank took the questions like a champ, entering full interview mode and mimicking her directness and no-nonsense attitude without a qualm. It almost sounded like they were in competition over who could respond fastest. He matched her swift mind well.
"Favourite food?"
"Never really had one."
"Favourite drink?"
"Alcoholic or non?"
"Alcoholic."
"Tequila."
"Non?"
"Espresso with a caramel shot."
"Parents?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"School?"
"Didn't publicly attend until Grade 1."
"How did you learn to read?"
"Self-taught."
"Favourite book?"
"Well, I like Victor Hugo's works and Edgar Allen Poe, but have a particular fondness for Dante."
Insert a long, awkward pause here.
"You're a scarred, scarred little boy, aren't you?" Gemini soon asked. It earned him a warning glare from Dr. Director and a corrective kick under the table from Jack. Hank winced a bit at the remark, but he got where the guy was coming from so let it go. Dr. Director turned her attention back to him.
"Should we let your parents know about your condition?" she asked.
"No. They wouldn't care anyway," Hank replied.
"I'm sure deep inside they love you," she pressed, her interrogation going from superficial to more meaningful.
"If they had, I wouldn't be a 'scarred, scarred little boy'," Hank replied, giving Gemini an annoyed and pointed look. Gemini frowned but wisely chose not to comment.
"I mean, they kept you alive," she said.
"No. They didn't," Hank bluntly replied. "That was my Uncle Mark."
"Fed you?" she asked.
"I fed myself," he replied.
"Potty trained you?" she asked eyes wide at this point.
"I largely trained myself with a kickstart from Uncle," Hank proudly replied with a smile.
"What do you mean?" Dr. Director warily asked, raising an eyebrow.
Insert one of the darkest, most appalling stories Hench had heard yet. Essentially, mom and dad regularly went out overnight to get away from the screaming child in their house and left little baby Hank with no babysitter or supervisor. Just locked him in his pen not even with a bottle or blanket and left it at that trusting he'd just go to sleep. Babies and infants, of course, regularly went to the bathroom, but mom and dad figured baby should learn how to control his bowels and not let them go willy-nilly. If they came home to find he'd had an accident, there was a good spanking, and no changing of the diaper was done until the next voiding to 'teach a lesson' and 'encourage self-control'. Of course, that sort of abuse led to rash, sores, and infections – none of which had been brought to the attention of medical personnel – and one day his Uncle had dropped by to see them unexpectedly and had found the sorry state of the infant, which had totally freaked Foggman out. He'd then promptly gone out, bought a potty-training seat and baby's first toilet, took on the role of a nanny for a while, and had done his best to teach an infant who could barely walk how to prep and use the things so as to save him from further misery. Armed with the basics, the child proceeded to spend the next couple of years trying to figure out toileting virtually solo with a helping hand from his Uncle whenever possible.
Needless to say, Dr. Director kicked into mom mode effective immediately and completely lost it with all the indignation and wrath of a mother bear to the point that Hank was staring at her in wide-eyed terror completely stun locked. Then Will, equally as indignant, had chimed in with what little he'd been told about Hank as well, and Jack and Gemini had both had to talk her down from going out there and arresting the kid's parents for child abuse and neglect twenty plus years too late. The stories had really messed her up, though, and she was visibly upset and depressed throughout the rest of the dinner, doubtless picturing in great detail the misery of that whole situation.
Hank had felt terrible, to say the least, and tried to apologize, and she freaked again basically telling him not to dare apologize for something like that, that wasn't his fault. The rest of the dinner had been awkward, putting it mildly. Now they were in the process of driving home.
KP
Will was seemingly asleep, leaning against the window. Gemini was quiet, a chin resting in his hand as he pondered over the new details he'd learned. Jack felt just plain uncomfortable, and Dr. Director, arms wrapped around herself angrily, was glaring sullenly ahead while Hank's eyes nervously darted to her every so often.
"How much worse did it get?" Dr. Director suddenly demanded of Hank, looking sharply over at him with eyes narrowed.
Hank grimaced a bit and shrank in on himself a little, bowing his head. She watched him quietly a moment before glaring ahead again, arms wrapping tighter around her body. She probably didn't really want to know anyway.
"They uh, they had a kid for the tax breaks. They almost let me die of TB as a child then stomach cancer as a teen because they couldn't be bothered using medical insurance on me or paying the bills. When Uncle stepped in and forced them to use their insurance on me, they did it on loan. Paid what insurance didn't cover out of the money I'd saved for myself and put what I couldn't afford on a running tab. They essentially put me in debt to them. They didn't come to my high school graduation. Instead, they packed up and took off without a goodbye while I was at the ceremony. I came home to an empty, decrepit house that was now my responsibility. I wasn't a tax break to them anymore so what good was I? Suddenly I was all alone. They'd um, they'd been all I ever had… I had a panic attack that night. Several. Considered calling social services but chickened out and told myself I could figure it out on my own because foster care would probably be the worse option, and I mean, I did figure it out. Kind of. When it came to secular education, they didn't help pay for it. Or for anything really. They never stopped in to visit either despite living like ten minutes away by car in an upscale suburb in Middleton. They didn't make contact with me again, in fact, until this year, and called me just to tell me to come home because dad got cancer and mom broke a hip. Then they proceeded to and still use my insurance to cover the medical costs. They insisted on my labor and time over a homecare worker's because homecare workers were expensive and I was free and didn't expect payment. They treated me literally no different than they ever had before and probably worse because this time they were forced to interact with me. They didn't offer a word of thanks and really only put me down or told me I wasn't doing good enough. They got annoyed when I stayed late at work one day instead of staying home to take care of them. I was exhausted and hadn't slept in days, so ended up passing out in the employee lounge and Mr. Hench didn't have the heart to wake me until he absolutely felt he had to. They confronted me about it and when I tried to defend myself dad slapped me, and at that point, I was on the verge of a mental breakdown, so I called Mr. Hench, and when he came and rose to my defense and told them off and told them I was his now and that he was taking me with him. They basically said 'fine, see ya later, we only needed your insurance anyway'. Haven't heard from them since. That's the basic rundown of it. At least of the things Mr. Hench already knows."
"Implying there's more?" Gemini asked. Hank chose silence, arms wrapped around himself.
Dr. Director scoffed in disgust. "I can't believe this," she bitterly said.
"It's true!" Hank defended.
"Not you, Hank. Them," she said, giving him a sort of look he'd rather not decipher.
"I truly don't need the empathy, Dr. Director. Really. I'm fine. I am. Mostly. Just… sometimes there are bad days," Hank said. Silence. "I uh, I'd never really accepted it as neglect or abuse until Mr. Hench pointed it out. Blatantly. Which was jarring, to say the least. Kind of snapped me out of the denial. Dragged me out of whatever protective shell I'd erected around myself and just… It got really bad for a bit. But I'm coming to terms with it, ma'am, don't you worry. One step at a time. I've pretty well cut them out of my life at this point. I'll see them on the deathbed of whoever goes first. Assuming they deign to let me know. Even if they don't, the funeral will probably be announced, so I'll just crash that and call it a day."
"Why bother?" Will asked coldly, startling them all.
Hank winced a bit. "You really weren't supposed to hear all of that," he defeatedly said. "To answer the question, though, basically just to spite them."
Will was quiet. "He told them you were his now?" he quietly asked.
"Ooh... Uh, h-he didn't mean literally," Hank lamely offered. "It was basically just to make it clear to them that I was under his protection because he saw the mark and, well…"
"It didn't go over well," Gemini said. He knew Jack. Something like that would have prompted a borderline violent reaction restrained only by Hench's sheer force of will.
"I told them if I ever saw a mark on him again after he returned from a visit with them, I was going to become their worst nightmare," Jack replied. "Not that they cared, those ones. Arrogant as all getup. Narcissistic personality disorders coming out the backside. Pretty sure the only person his mother ever cared about besides herself was her brother, Foggman, and even then it's doubtful. Same goes for his father."
"I'm finished with them both," Hank bitterly said, glaring out the window. "Might visit once in a blue moon out of some sense of duty, but probably not. "Why spend the rest of my life vying for the love of two virtual strangers I basically just shared a house with?" There was a beat. "I mean it's not like I didn't want their love, they just weren't going to give it! So, I let them go! It was less painful that way!"
"Good. Cut them out of your life permanently," Gemini said.
"I'm working on it," Hank replied. "Just glad I got more of my Uncle than my parents. They're the last people I'd ever want to be like."
"You were close to your uncle then," Gemini remarked.
"No. I knew him when I was little, but then my parents hoarded me away from the rest of the family when the family got pushy with them. Basically told them to mind their own business and let us mind ours, so I never really saw him again in person until I ran into him at HenchCo. At that point, he was kind of the only one left. It wasn't really a big or very extended family. Basically a set of grandparents, a great uncle and great aunt on either side, then Uncle Foggman," Hank said.
"No cousins? No siblings? No anything?" Dr. Director asked.
"No," Hank said.
"Not a big extended family on my end either," Will dryly said, crossing his arms. "Mom, dad, a grandma, another grandma MIA, Uncle Sheldon, and a couple great Uncles one of which I've never met, and the other I'd rather not meet ever, ever, ever again. Never had an Uncle on dad's side or a cousin on either." Jack shifted a little, jaw ticking a bit.
"Right, I met that great Uncle. The mob psycho?" Hank dryly asked.
"Thank you!" Will said. Jack snorted a laugh.
"I uh, sort of rubbed him the wrong way, but no worries! Everything's under control. So far," Hank said.
"I'm sorry, what?" Dr. Director asked.
"What can he do against Mr. Hench's thousands of connections worldwide?" Hank asked, shrugging. "He takes me out, he flips a kill switch and loses everything."
"If dad can work up the guts," Will bit.
"The man is more dangerous than you know, boys," Jack warned.
"More dangerous than the guy who chatted up a Mongolian warlord like they were old friends?" Will dryly asked.
"Boarding school. Rottigan," Jack said, smirking. "Among the few people I actually liked there."
"Are you flipping kidding me right now?!" Will demanded.
"Connections, connections, connections," Jack said.
"You get them where you can take them," Hank added with a shrug. Will scowled at him, a little peeved the guy was practically finishing his father's sentences. He hated how much on the same wavelength the two were.
KP
Gemini was first to be dropped off. It was dark now, and at this point, both Hank and Will had passed out, still exhausted and recovering from the whole car crash ordeal. "Plans for the night?" Jack asked Dr. Director, who'd moved to the front seat in her brother's place.
"Why?" she asked.
"Curiosity," he replied.
"The only plan we need to discuss right now is whether you and Hank stay with me for the duration of his recovery period, or me and Will stay with you two," she replied. "Hank's not going back to that house of his. I looked the place up. It's a dump in desperate need of renovation. Good bones, not much else."
"One thing at a time or he'll have an aneurysm," Jack dryly said, rolling his eyes.
Dr. Director huffed a laugh. "I'll talk to Will about it," she finally said. "I think it's best we stay with you. More room, a more familiar environment for Hank, still gives him space to feel independent and self-sufficient… Maybe he'll be more willing to ask for help when he needs it if he feels relaxed, protected, and not so much like an intruder.
Jack smiled a little. "Fine by me," he replied. "More gym equipment too, to help them with Physical Therapy."
"And a pool. And a lake," she said, smiling a bit.
"Both incredibly effective for helping rebuild strength in weakened limbs," Jack said with a grin.
"Pool first, lake later," she replied. "Safer in a pool."
"Twenty-four and eighteen, not three and four," Jack said.
"Broken limbs including arms and legs," Dr. Director said, frowning at him.
"Touché," he replied.
"Carrying them in or waking them up?" Dr. Director teased, glancing back at the two young men through the rear-view mirror.
Jack chuckled. "Can you imagine how mortified they'd be if they woke up while I was carrying either one of them?" he asked. "Then again, embarrassment and duty of a parent and all that."
"Within reason," she said.
"Is this within reason?" he asked.
"Most definitely," she replied, smirking. He chuckled.
KP
They parked in front of the luxury home. "I'll put it in the garage after and bring in the wheelchair and crutches," Jack said, unfastening his seatbelt.
"Mmm hmm. Do you want some tea?" she asked, unfastening her own seatbelt.
"Sure, why not?" he replied. She turned around, supporting Will's body as Jack went around to open the door. Carefully he extracted the boy. Will made a sound of discomfort, shifting a bit, and Hank stirred ever so slightly but didn't wake up.
"Easy sweetie," Jack murmured to Will, adjusting the boy in his arms and carrying him inside. Dr. Director stayed in the car to monitor Hank.
Jack carried Will up to the bedroom and inside. Gently he settled the boy down on his bed and tucked him in. He dropped a kiss on the young man's forehead and Will breathed deeply in, but didn't awaken. Jack smiled, shutting the door behind him, and went to get Hank next. Dr. Director was watching the young man closely as if trying to decide how she felt about all this. She looked over as her husband approached. Jack opened the door and carefully extracted Hank from the car. She got out with him and grabbed the four crutches from the back just so Jack had less to worry about when he came out for the car and chair, then followed him upstairs, stopping by Will's room to drop two of the crutches off. Jack continued to Hank's room and lay the young man down carefully. Betty followed shortly after as her husband was covering his aide with a blanket. "We never speak of this," Jack teased, glancing back at her. "Pretty sure this one would die of embarrassment and Will would have a conniption. Embarrassment within reason. This I think would be a little too cruel to them."
She approached and set the crutches nearby the bed with a smirk. "Let's agree to disagree," she replied. "They'll figure it out on their own anyway."
He chuckled, standing up, and dropped a kiss on her temple. "I'll go park the car in the garage and grab the chair."
"I'll put on the tea," she replied, smiling. "Is Hank an early or late riser?"
"Early like you wouldn't believe," Jack replied, rolling his eyes.
"You early?" she asked.
He grinned and said, "Depends. Insomniac."
"Anything else I should know about?" she asked, frowning.
"Addison's Disease," Jack replied with a sigh. "And prone to cancer."
"How about we not think about that?" she dryly said. "Poor kid's been through enough."
"Mmm," he replied, nuzzling her gently before walking out with her and shutting the door behind them. "Did you notice if we were being followed?" he asked.
"Is there a reason you're worried about that, or is it only because Hank annoyed your Uncle?" she asked.
"Do I need another reason?" Jack asked. "It's not just me in this house anymore. It's my entire family, say for Gemini, and my mentee."
"I didn't notice anyone, but then I wasn't really thinking to keep an eye out. If you end up in trouble, you know what to do. I'll be out in a flash," she said.
"Depends on how dangerous I deem the situation," he said.
"Jack," she warned, frowning.
He sighed. "Fine," he answered. "If he happens to have been tailing us and things happen to get bad, I'll do what I need to. Just make sure the boys are safe before you make sure I am, okay hon?"
"You say as casually as if there'd always been two of them," she teased with a smile. That smile, though, slowly fell. "Seriously, Jack. What is this?"
"He's twenty-four, hon, not a kid. I'm taking him under my wing. Sure, every so often I tease him a little, but that's just how we work and that's the extent of it."
"Are you sure?" she asked. He frowned a bit, curious.
She shook her head. "Never mind love. Go on and grab the chair," she said. He considered prying into what she meant, but ultimately just shrugged it off and walked away.
KP
Jack made his way outside and to the car. He went to the driver's side door and suddenly paused, a tingling sensation running up his spine.
Something was watching him…
He was still for a long moment before at last turning. There inside the gazebo by the lake, leaning on a post, stood a figure in an old hat smoking a cigar. Jack was quiet, watching him. Soon, though, he got into the car, put it into gear, opened the garage, and drove inside. There was no doubt in his mind that when he got out his Uncle would be there…
Parking the car, he went to the back and opened it in frustration, taking the chair out and setting it up. He shut the back, still refusing to look, but eventually he would have to, he knew. Finally, he turned around. Sure enough, standing near was the man in question. Alone. A part of Jack wanted to disappear him right then and there, but he didn't. Sighing in frustration, he took the chair in hand, moved it in front of him, and wheeled it out, giving a cold look to the man who didn't even bother meeting his eyes. Just kept smoking. Jack put the wheelchair aside then returned and leaned against the garage, crossing his arms coldly.
"Evenin' nephew," the man said.
"Uncle," he coldly replied.
"Growing yourself quite the little family here, ain't 'cha?" the man asked.
"Save it," Jack replied.
"Unfortunate what happened to your boys," the man said.
Jack was quiet a beat. "Was it you?" he coldly asked.
"No. Nephew, I'm not the source of every tragedy you've faced in your life," the Uncle said. "Though guess I can't call this one a tragedy now, can I? Heard on the police scanner they got out just fine."
"You've been watching us," Jack coldly said. "Or just them?"
"Sizing up your new little protégé. Too gutsy for his own good," he said.
"Depends on the circumstance," Jack said. "He's good at judging those."
"Is he now?" the Uncle asked.
"He miscalculated with you," Jack replied. Though he was starting to wonder, he inwardly added.
"He's dangerous, but a thousand connections worth of dangerous?"
"Hmm…" the Uncle said. He took another draw on the cigar and coughed a couple of times.
"Why are you here, Uncle?" Jack asked.
"Figured I'd drop by for a visit," he said.
"Oh really?" Jack coldly asked. "When most of my family is in my house?"
"Cigar?" the Uncle asked, pulling one out of a pocket. Jack was quiet, eyeing it. "Come on. For old time's sake," the man pressed.
"Smoked my last cigar at twenty-one, Unc," Jack soon replied. "Not about to kick up the habit again."
"Just as well. They'll kill me one day," the man said.
"Why are you here?" Jack repeated.
"No alternative motives this time, Jack. Just idle curiosity. You're getting sentimental in your middle years, I notice. Piecing your family back together, making moves towards unity rather than division, getting your affairs lined up and in order for what I can only assume will be an early retirement or an early death, whichever you expect comes first," the Uncle said. "Guess I'm curious as to why."
"So hard to believe I'm just getting tired of it all?" Jack asked. "Not exactly an easy clientele I'm handling here."
"Yet you love every second of it," he said.
"But I don't love being isolated from my wife and son," he replied. "If I can have my cake and eat it too, great! If not, I choose family over business. Actual family, Uncle. Not the mockery of it that you champion. Family doesn't make family kill family. Or friends for that matter. I got out of that world long ago. Ditched it and you the first chance I got. Sorry you never got over it. I made no trouble for you after that. You, on the other hand, made nothing but trouble for me. You were a problem I had to deal with. Then you had the audacity to be surprised and offended when I tried to hang you out to dry? Guess that rule only mattered if it wasn't applied to you, huh Unc?"
"You're getting too bold, nephew," his Uncle said. "That new boy of yours is a bad influence."
Jack glared darkly at him, then chuckled bitterly and smirked, shaking his head. "Every time I think we're on equal terms, every time I figure we might actually be reaching an understanding, you turn around and pull this BS. In the end, all you want is to control me. It's all you ever wanted."
"And as long as I maintain that control, we'll stay neutral," the man answered.
Jack shook his head. "It was never neutral with you," he said. There was silence as they glared at each other. "You don't control me anymore," Jack finally said.
"Oh yes I do," he answered. "You tethered yourself, son. That was your decision to make, not mine," he said. "You coulda sent that girl away."
"And you would have still gone after her," he replied.
"You should never have let yourself get attached, then," the Uncle replied. Jack was quiet. "That's the problem with you, Jack. You don't let a lotta people in so don't form a lotta close bonds, but the ones you do make are deep and strong. Your wife, your brother-in-law, your son, this new kid of yours… As long as you have them, I own you. Always will. There's not a single thing you wouldn't do for them if you knew their lives were at stake." Jack kept quiet. "Bend your knee," his Uncle said.
"This isn't the Middle Ages," Jack replied coldly.
"Bend your knee," the man repeated dangerously.
"Go to hell," Jack darkly replied.
"If you don't, son, then someone you love will," he replied.
Jack was quiet. "You have me your equal, you have me your friend, or you have me your enemy. That's your choice, Uncle," he at last replied.
The Uncle was silent. "Even after all this time, you still don't realize how easily I could take everything from you, do you?" the man eventually said.
"Do you understand how easily I could take everything from you?" Jack asked.
"That boy has been a bad influence on you," the man said. "That just won't do, nephew."
"Answer my question," Jack replied.
The Uncle was quiet. "I understand. That's what gives me the advantage," he finally replied. Jack was quiet. "Don't get cocky like the young blood. You're not a little boy anymore. You know better." He took a drag of the cigar and let it out slowly, blowing it in his nephew's face. Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Bend. Your knee." Jack was quiet, jaw ticking a bit.
"Jack?" Betty suddenly asked from near at hand.
Jack looked quickly over with the Uncle. She was watching the latter warily and guardedly. Jack turned back to the man. "Impromptu visit. He was just leaving," he said to her.
The Uncle chuckled and turned back to him. "You've built up quite a life for yourself, haven't you Jack? Beautiful wife, beautiful little boy, new little adoptee, powerful connections on every side… Steadily rebuilding the family you inadvertently shattered. I'm proud of you. Impressed even. Enjoy your perfect little world, son. While I let you have it." He tossed the cigar down and stomped it out. Jack was completely still, heart racing in his breast. The Uncle glanced toward Dr. Director and smirked coldly. "Bend your knee," he said to her. Jack let out a stressed breath, closing his eyes, now visibly shaken.
Betty glared at the Uncle coldly, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. "Get out," she icily said. He shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked away. Outside the gates was a car clearly waiting for him. Dr. Director approached her husband and wrapped both her arms around one of his own gently, glaring after the man along with Jack.
"Next one I ask I won't be so kind to, nephew!" Uncle called back.
Dr. Director felt her husband tense up and make to lunge, but she held him firmly back. "Pretend he was never there," she urged gently as the man got in the car. "Tonight is our night. He doesn't get to just come in here and ruin it." Jack stared silently after the man, eyes narrowed, until the car sped away, then let out a shaking breath and nodded, turning and making his way back inside. She took the chair he'd forgotten about and followed in concern.
