Daniel nodded and returned his attention to Jack. He stroked the younger man's hair and studied his face. If there's one reason to get through this, he thought, this is it.
The car skidded to a stop outside a drug store. Dylan turned to Merritt.
"Get painkillers, bandages, whatever you can think of. We can't bring him to a hospital, but I can call in a friend to meet us on the plane. He's a doctor – a good one." Merritt nodded and jumped out of the car. Dylan pulled out his phone and dialed a number. While he talked, Henley turned to Daniel and Jack.
Daniel barely blinked as he stared down at Jack's pained face. It was as if he believed that Jack would vanish in an instant if he looked away. Maybe, Henley thought, that is what he believes. She reached out to lay a hand on his arm, and he jumped slightly in surprise.
"Hey," she said softly. "How you holding up?"
"How do you think?" he replied, gritting his teeth. "God, Henley, I just want him to be okay. Why did I let him hold the rope and go last? I should've… I mean, I'm the leader, right? It should've been me."
"You stop that right now," Henley scolded. "You couldn't have known. And Jack will be just fine. He always is."
Just then, Merritt opened the car door and climbed in. Dylan turned the engine back on and the car roared into life, lunging forward. Jack groaned in pain and Daniel's attention immediately snapped back to his love.
Merritt passed a bag into the back seat. "Strongest painkillers they had without prescription, an antiseptic, and bandages." Henley nodded as she took the bag.
Dylan glanced into the backseat. "Are you going to put on a bandage now?"
"No," Henley replied. "Best to let the doctor do it. And anyway, the wound has been working to heal itself. If we pull the jacket off, it'll rip away any progress as well. We should keep it on for as long as we can."
"Damn," Merritt said. "How do you know this much medical stuff, anyway?"
Henley shrugged. "Back before I worked with Danny, I was part of a show with a bunch of other guys. They tended to get hurt a fair bit, and somehow always expected the woman to what to do. At first I just made it all up and it went fine, but over time I figured I might as well learn. As you can see, it comes in pretty handy."
Suddenly, from Daniel's lap, came muttered swearing. Daniel's face lit up as he smoothed Jack's hair.
"Hey, babe," he said softly. "Welcome back."
"Fuck," came Jack's mumbled reply.
Henley thought she heard Daniel giggle, but decided later it must've been a hallucination from stress.
"You got shot in the leg, if you're wondering why that hurts," Daniel told him. "You kept blacking out from pain. Which reminds me…" He looked over to Henley. "Do we have any water for the painkillers?"
"Oh, shit – no, we don't," she replied.
Dylan spoke up from the driver's seat. "Merritt, in the glove compartment, there's a bottle. Grab that."
Merritt did so, and looked at the label. "Scotch?" he asked.
"It's a liquid," grumbled Dylan. "And not a bad painkiller itself."
Merritt shrugged and passed the bottle back to Daniel. Daniel twisted off the cap and carefully propped Jack into a semi-upright position. He put the bottle to Jack's lips, but Jack reached up and took it from him.
"I was shot in the leg, not the shoulder," he reminded gently. He took a swig of the amber liquid and winced. "Damn, I'm not even twenty-one for another month."
Daniel handed him a couple pills, and Jack downed them with another mouthful of scotch. "Man," Jack said. "I've only ever really had beer at parties before. This stuff is pretty strong, huh?" He laughed, and Henley and Merritt exchanged a glance. They didn't expect Jack to be so inexperienced with alcohol.
"Dylan, how much longer before we get to the plane?" Merritt asked.
"Could be a while. An hour, maybe? The airfield is just outside the city."
Jack took another sip of the scotch before reaching up to tap Daniel on the nose. "Boop," he laughed.
Merritt groaned.
Just under an hour later, the car pulled up in front of a small and quiet airfield. Jack had long since passed out, and his head rested against Daniel's chest. When Jack had stopped drinking, Daniel had started, and he too was now asleep. Henley and Merritt remained awake, speaking in hushed voices. Though Jack was a bit pale, Henley surmised that the bullet had missed any major veins or arteries as the bleeding had mostly stopped.
On the runway ahead was a small plane, and standing just past the car was a young doctor. He was short in stature with sandy hair and a white coat. Dylan exited the car to talk with him, motioning to the back seat. Henley began shaking Daniel's shoulder in an attempt to wake him up, but the man was unresponsive. She sighed.
The doctor walked back into the building next to the airfield as Dylan returned to the car. He opened Henley's door and leaned over. "So there's the doctor, his name is John. Nice guy. He's grabbing a stretcher from inside. I'm guessing Daniel isn't waking up?" Henley shook her head. "Damn. Well, I'm sure we'll figure something out. Meanwhile, you and Merritt gather up all the bags here and get on the plane. We'll be right behind you."
As Merritt and Henley walked toward the plane, they passed the doctor. He pushed the stretcher toward the car, and Merritt made a mental note of his slight limp.
Dylan, Daniel, Jack, and John soon followed. Their solution to the two unconscious men was to simply squeeze both of them onto the small stretcher. Dylan pushed as John worked to keep Daniel and Jack from slipping off. Once everyone was inside the plane, Dylan went to speak with the pilot as John began work on Jack. They had propped Daniel up in a nearby seat where he was out of the way but still in view. Henley and Merritt sat across from John and Jack, both sharing a stubborn refusal to let their youngest team member out of their sight.
After a few minutes of silence, Merritt looked at John. "So your limp," he began, "psychosomatic, right?"
Henley punched him in the arm. "Merritt!" she hissed. "You can't go asking people things like that!"
John just laughed. "No, it's fine," he replied. "Actually, you remind me quite a lot of someone I once knew." Before the line of conversation could be further explored, Dylan returned to the cabin.
"We're taking off in just a minute," he announced. "How's Jack doing?"
"Surprisingly well," John replied. "The bullet didn't hit anything important, and it's not too deep. Once we get up in the air and stable, I'll be able to take it out without much of a problem."
Everyone – who was awake, that is – breathed a sigh of relief. In time, all would be well. Daniel would awaken shortly before landing in a panic before seeing Jack peacefully asleep. Content, he would soon drift back into dreams himself. In a few more hours, Dylan would drop the Horsemen off at their new home, a small three-bedroom rental house. He would apologize for the missing bedroom, but the Horsemen would just shake their heads.
In a few weeks, Jack would be healed and back on his feet, the same ball of energy he always was. The Horsemen would find jobs as Lillian, Theodore, Jasper, and Chester. Every so often there would be a short column on the back page of the paper, wondering aimlessly what had come of the four legends.
There would be time. There would be plenty of time.
And if Lillian, Theodore, Jasper, and Chester spent the rest of their lives waiting for the mysterious phone call, the midnight doorbell, the magical letter, well, what would the harm be?
You and I both know, however, that this was not to be. The Eye was not finished with them. The Four Horsemen would return once more.
a/n: Thank you, dear Horsemen, for sticking with me to the end of this story. I must say my hands hurt from typing! This tale is finished for now, but I will neither promise nor deny the possibility of a sequel. In the meantime, I have several more prompts to fulfill, so that will be my next project.
Thank you, and goodnight!
Julia