Well I wasn't planning on getting a new chapter up tonight. But then I spent 3 hours on a bus trying to get home in horrendous traffic. So my pain is the story's gain I suppose. One chapter entirely written on a cellphone ;)
Jaz perched on the windowsill finding comfort in her vantage point to watch the slow mechanical rise of Dalton's chest.
Her teammates often teased the sniper that she set up overwatch no matter where was. And while it usually made her roll her eyes she couldn't deny that she wasn't one to sink into a chair or a couch in the middle of the room. No, she usually preferred to occupy a spot on the outskirts where she could see the entire room. Preferably with her feet up if she could swing it. Perhaps born from her training, perhaps just a personality quirk that she didn't like to be the center of attention, content to pipe in her two cents from the outskirts. This windowsill wasn't as comfortable as some of her favorite haunts in their home quarters but it would have to do for now.
She smirked as McG let out a not so soft snore from one of the chairs beside the bed. The man could sleep pretty much anywhere, anytime, but she suspected he was still catching up from their exhausting mission. He had worked feverishly over the last few days to keep Dalton alive when things had gone to shit on their mission. Performing surgery in the middle of a field, intubating him mid-air when his lungs had begun to fail outright, and doing CPR for the last few terrifying minutes of their flight before finally relinquishing care to the emergency medical staff when they landed.
She shuddered slightly, mind replaying some of the scenes from Mongolia. The bright colours on Adam's bruised and battered chest, his wheezing breaths as he hiked, and then the fear in his expressive eyes when he couldn't breath. Jaz couldn't recall a time before where she had ever seen him scared and she still found it deeply unsettling. His skin had been so white it was practically translucent and so, so silent as they carried him the last couple miles never so much as twitching. His body staying limp and unresponsive even as McG and Preach had taken turns hammering on his already broken chest trying to keep blood flowing when his organs had started shutting down.
She couldn't bring herself to take the other chair next to Joe. To sit another bedside vigil. She had done that less than a year ago for Elijah. Sat there for days waiting for good news that never came. Talking to him, praying for him to open his eyes. She was not going to repeat that. Top was going to be fine, it was Top. He didn't need her to sit there and hold his hand. He was going to beat this. He had to beat this.
She was mad at him. Mad that he had shattered her illusion that he was indestructible. He wasn't allowed to go and abandon the team, abandon her. As their leader he inspired them, always believing in their ability more than they did. He was the calm in the storm of a mission. There was never a doubt that he would figure out what to do in any situation. He also kept them cohesive, bringing out the best each person had to offer. When needed he could shut down any crap with a simple calm statement and a raised eyebrow rather than a raised voice. She found it highly ironic that he could keep 4 passionate and headstrong operators obedient to his every word when he couldn't even get his own dog to lie down on command. The thought of Patton made her mad again. She was not going to deal with a depressed adopted dog , damnit Top you are not allowed to skip out on us.
She wasn't sure what the irrational anger she was feeling towards her teammate said about her personality. She supposed it was probably easier to be mad then deal with the other emotions she had pushed aside in order to get the mission done. They were now lurking threatening to overwhelm her if she let them so it was easier just to stay mad. Who knew, apparently she did occasionally pay attention to what the shrinks went on about in the team mandated debriefs. She had them down to an art now, smiling when needed, sharing superficial information as required and presenting the textbook answers to get the magic "all clear" she needed to continue on with her job.
Her eyes refocused on Dalton. Taking reassurance in the noises of the machines. Normally a cause for concern they were a welcome sight at this point. There were moments on the mission where she hadn't thought they would even make it to this point. Then the doctors hadn't thought he couldn't possibly survive the surgery to repair the internal bleeding. But he had. After that they moved on to warning about the first 24 hours, unsure if his body could handle the strain that had been placed on it. But he did. And here they were now, 36 hours later and struggling to find a sense of patience. Patience certainly wasn't her strong suit. Top had recently told her that sometimes the only thing to do was just to wait. It was certainly true, but it had sucked then and it still sucked now.
An alarm sounded and she was off the ledge on her feet in an instant. Eyes searching the foreign machinery connected to Dalton for signs of distress. They had been warned that there were all sorts of things that could still go wrong.. a missed bleeder, organ failure, infection, but she had dared to hope they were past the worst.
McG had jolted awake and was just starting to examine the patient when the doctors hurried in the door. McG moved aside and beckoned that they should leave the doctors to it. She glared at him stepping back against the wall steadfastly refusing to exit. He shot her an exasperated look before coming to join her in the corner and putting his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into the comfort wondering just how much more Top could endure.
After several minutes of fiddling with machines and checking vitals one of the doctors turned and studied Jaz. Apparently recognizing that she was near the end of her rope the doctor tried for a reassuring smile and said "It's a good thing honey, he is starting to fight the intubation. Means he's getting stronger."
Jaz suppressed her annoyance at being called honey, letting it go in the face of actual good news for the first time in days. The relief overwhelmed her and she felt something wet slide down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, surprised. She didn't think anyone on the team had ever seen her cry before. If McG noticed he didn't let on, and worst case scenario she had some leverage on him she could use to shut him up about it later. She settled in to wait with a renewed sense of hope. Sometimes all you could do was wait.