For the first few days Jack rested, lying in bed and drifting in and out of consciousness, with Cas always never too far out of reach. After a while Jack became restless and frustrated, bored of being the helpless one; he wanted to be up and about, at least helping out around the bunker if he wasn't able to join hunts. The angel was very strict with him, not wanting to take any risks as it was clear he hadn't fully healed yet and was still in pain, but he also sensed something more, something wrong in Jack's uneasiness.

One evening when they were alone together in the bunker, Cas entered the kitchen area surprised to find Jack who must have snuck out of bed behind the commotion of the Winchesters leaving. He stood in the doorway for a moment before quietly entering, silently observing as the other man hummed quietly while washing up, peaceful and oblivious to his existence. Then putting his hands on his hips Cas gently coughed, raising an eyebrow and glaring at his partner who had whipped around terrified by the unexpected presence behind him. The Captain let out a breath and put his bubbly hand to his chest feeling his heart pound, but he soon began to smile.

Cas saw this as his chance to confront him on what was bothering him, "Jack," their eyes met, "I know there's something you're not telling me. What's wrong?"

He replied with a nervous laugh, "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine." He looked at the ground, "just sick of being trapped in that room and taking ages to heal I guess." Then he smiled and added dramatically, "ugh the agony!"

He seemed sensitive and protective behind his fake smile, as if he was holding something back but hiding it behind his façade of humour. Once again, he was unable to take anything seriously, then Jack turned back to finish washing the dishes. Cas approached him and leant his back against the surface next to him, putting both hands on the counter and sticking his legs out crossed over each other. He stared down at his feet rather than Jack who stayed focused on the bubbles.

"Please Jack. I only want to help you, because I don't want to lose you again, because... I love you."

Jack raised his head and stared at the ceiling, letting out a sigh.

Cas looked up at him at last, "why were you so scared?"

Jack turned around, mimicking Cas's resting position, staring blankly out into the room and finally let everything out, "I don't want to sleep because I can't. Every time I close my eyes I feel like I'm... lost and absent. And every time I wake up I come back to reality, but it still doesn't feel real somehow. I feel terrified, out of breath and my heart pounds, but I don't know why, I don't remember anything… just this pain in my chest."

With this, Cas stood up, pulling his Captain in close and hugging him tight, their heads resting on the other's shoulder. Then he loosened his grip and placed a hand on either shoulder, looking into Jack's eyes.

"Let me help you."

Jack blinked slowly, and tried to smile, a single tear rolled down his cheek which Cas wiped away with his thumb.

Jack lay flat on the bed gazing up at Cas who stood beside him and held onto his hand tightly.

"Are you ready?" The soothing gruff voice asked tentatively, and a gentle nod was given in response clearly due to nerves.

"Just remember to relax," Harkness closed his eyes and let out a breath.

Cas placed his other hand onto his forehead and tipped his own head back with his eyes closed. Jack's eyes shot open as he gasped and gripped the bed, then almost immediately shut them again and there was silence in the room.

The immortal was suddenly awake again, as if thrown back into life but somewhere else. He jolted up from the cold ground, yelling and breathless from shock. It was cool and dark, and only the moonlight shone through the leaves and branches above him. He tried to pull himself up onto his feet, the pain in his chest and his shadowy environment holding him back. As he stumbled searching for balance and more light, he heard the leaves beneath his feet rustle in the silence. Jack pulled up his sleeve, hoping to check his trusty vortex manipulator to give him a clue as to where he was. However the little nagging doubt in his mind became full panic as his worst fear became reality. Once again, his arm was bare.

No vortex manipulator.

No gun.

The stumbling man could feel his shirt getting damper and heavier; he glanced down to see his once white shirt appear black in the night. Jack wasn't sure whether the sudden chill that washed over him was fear or his loss of blood. Just as he thought he may faint his ears pricked up and his senses sharpened when he heard movement from behind. Very slowly he peered over his shoulder to see nothing, just emptiness and the night. This absence did not make him feel any better than if he had seen something. A sound of motion again but this time in front of him; he turned his head to face more trees and darkness. Any other time Jack would have been more chilled; he could take on anything, and if not he knew he'd who just wake up later in pain after defeat. But he was different now, he was mortal here and somehow missing his vital equipment.

Suddenly he heard them approaching slowly, snapping him out of his thoughts. When they began to growl he realised it was time to get moving. Clutching his chest he began to sprint as fast as he could into the hopefully safe direction, trying to dodge trees as well as escape the ever approaching beasts coming after him. Jack ran for as long as he could, shocked by how long he managed to stay free, fuelled only by the adrenaline of dread as he knew the rest of his body was dying. Lack of energy and oxygen bit at his throat and as he thought he could run no more he reached the lake. The same lake as when he was first here. The realisation of where he was now and where he had been every night since made him lose track of his running; he tripped over the rocks and fell hard onto his front but managed to ignore the impact and scrabbled on over the pebbles towards the water, following the subconscious urge to submerge himself. Just as he got so close to the water's edge, he let out a cry as a sharp pain shot up his leg. The beast bit down on his ankle and tried to drag him away, but Jack fought on, hauling himself forwards and trying to kick with his other good leg. When his fingers felt the coolness of the lake he plunged his face into the water producing a death-defying cry of triumph, pain and fear.

The screaming, yelling and panic continued as he was torn from that world and tossed back into reality, finding himself sat up on the bed again, body drenched and ankle chewed up. This immense resurrection burst all the bulbs and threw Cas across the room where he hit the wall and fell to the floor and sat dazed. When he managed to pull himself up and get his head around what had just happened, he ran over to the still restless man on the bed. He pulled him close to try to soothe him, fighting against his struggling and muffling the shrieks with his trench coat. The warmth of his angel and familiar smell calmed Jack down, then he fell back down onto the bed wincing and panting.

The Winchesters had been alerted by the commotion and burst into the room; they had only got back a few minutes earlier and had tried their best to be as quiet as possible due to the silence that filled the bunker, expecting Jack to be asleep at last. They were shocked to find him moaning and wriggling on the bed, clutching his chest and choking on blood again with an overly concerned Cas at his side.

The angel turned to the boys giving them a look of fear and desperation, "we've got to take a look at it." Sam put his lips tight together, gulping and nodded understandingly.

They gathered round and holding Jack down they tore open his shirt and looked into the hot red wet mess of his chest.

The immortal, after having relaxed a little, also craned his neck in an attempt to peer down at himself, "how bad is it?" he said as his neck folded to give him multiple chins, at any other time Dean would have found this hilarious.

Sam and Cas squinted, trying to understand, whereas Dean had already taken a few steps back, but still tried to look interested from behind his taller brother.

Sam began puzzled, "it looks like the bullet's still in there..." He looked up and made eye contact with the angel. "We need to get you to a hospital," he pulled out his phone and began dialling.

"Wait," a weak voice croaked from low down, "I've got this..."

Jack shuffled himself to sit up a bit, clenching his jaw to block out the pain, then raised a hand above his chest.

He looked up at the men around him who stared on in curiosity and anticipation, "this isn't for the faint-hearted, you might want to look away now."

His eyes shut tight and he gritted his teeth, then proceeded to put his hand inside his own open wound and rummaged around for the bullet.

"Oh my God," Dean turned around and almost walked out the room, but stopped to lean on the door frame, making gagging noises as he went.

Sam put his fist to his mouth; he didn't dare try to persuade Jack to stop in fear of speaking and then seeing the burger he ate not that long ago again. However Jack's willingness to do this did not surprise him, this gave them hope as it seemed like the old Captain Jack Harkness was coming back: bold, reckless and unstoppable.

Just as Cas started, "Jack please. Stop. Let me..." the immortal raised his bloodied hand triumphantly with an "ah-ha!" cutting off his friend mid speech.

He held up the famous remaining Colt bullet, its glinting silver and red drawing everyone's attention, while more thick crimson liquid ran down his wrist.

His arm wavered as his eyes lost focus, then he slurred proudly, "I think I got it," and passed out.