To those of you who are still sticking with this story- I can't apologize enough for taking so long to update. I've had 75% of this chapter written for at least a month, but it was the ending of it that was tripping me up. So...I changed it. I don't think people will be happy. And I'm thinking there's only one chapter left after this one. We'll see what happens.
BW4eva- I guess you'll find out if they all survive. :) But you're right- they would make a great team.
Betty- Thanks, hon! That's such a great piece of feedback to hear...you have no idea.
Eva- The wait is over (for now)!
ThePurpleCrayon- Thanks so much!
The Elegant Doll- And you shall now have more!
Pirate Gyrl- It's beyond hilarious in my head! :P I think I've already told you that I'm debating writing a prequel of sorts with all of their time in the agency. I might still do that. And/or write some kind of sequel to this one. Who knows?
The Dyson- I'll take it under advisement? I honestly never know how to respond to feedback like that this late in the game. Sorry that you were that bored, but more sorry that you're masochistic enough to read 187K words of a story that's the most boring you've ever read in your life.
Chapter 36: In the Cold Light of Morning
Lisa breathed in deeply and exhaled as the elevator rose, attempting to force herself to remain calm. It wasn't as difficult as it probably should have been- she had spent the last number of hours bracing herself for what they were about to do. And it definitely helped when she felt Jackson's hand enclose hers, giving a reinforcing squeeze.
"We'll be fine," she murmured, and looked over to see him nod. She wasn't sure who she was really trying to convince. Luckily, some of the men's professionalism had wormed its way into her own mind, and she found herself completely comfortable with Jackson despite the conversation earlier that afternoon. This was a job, and they couldn't afford any awkwardness. Only moments earlier, they had shared what might be a final "true" kiss, but no words, before reverting to their 'game faces' and entering the elevator.
As they approached Keefe's floor, Lisa stretched out her mouth, ready to completely change her character. She released Jackson's hand and slumped against him, sinking into the role of a drunken, giddy girlfriend. The smile became truly genuine when she looked up to see him return the expression, and she laughed, pressing her lips to his again as the elevator came to a halt. This was it.
Jackson wrapped his arms around her waist, clumsily pulling her out of the elevator without breaking the kiss. She heard him laugh against her lips and couldn't help but giggle again herself. Despite the wicked circumstances, she found herself oddly amused at seeing him being someone so completely different than she was used to.
She broke the kiss at the sound of a man's voice, a sharp gasp that was both exaggerated and true shock escaping her lips when she saw a gun pointed in her face.
Jackson pulled her slightly behind him, an expression of bewilderment in his features. "You guys don't screw around with this whole 'silence after 10' policy, do you?" he asked belligerently, his voice subtly slurred.
The two agents exchanged irritated glances, and lowered their guns somewhat. "You're on the wrong floor," one of them snapped, and Lisa wondered how many times they had faced this exact same scenario. She hadn't expected them to relax so quickly.
Jackson shook his head. "I think I know what a seventeen looks like," he snapped, and out of the corner of her eye, Lisa saw movement behind the two men. It had to be Caleb and Ben, out from their waiting place in the stairwell. At least, she hoped- she didn't dare look.
As one of the agents told Jackson that is was in fact the eighteenth floor, Caleb and Ben finally came into full view and Jackson quickly turned his head, pulling Lisa along. Lisa grimaced when she felt a wet spray of blood on the back of her neck. Don't think about it...keep it together- the worst is coming, and you know it.
At the last second, they had opted to use knives instead of bullets for the hallway agents since there was a chance that the bullets could penetrate the agents' bodies and hit one or both of Jackson and Lisa.
Lisa turned again when she heard the bodies hit the floor with soft thumps and watched Jackson kneel to remove a key card from one of the agents' jacket pockets. She shifted awkwardly, feeling a bit like a third wheel as Caleb and Ben rummaged through Ben's bag, pulling out guns and a few pairs of what looked like sunglasses, but Lisa figured they must be the homemade infrared glasses she had heard mentioned.
There was no discussion between any of the men- they seemed to move together as though limbs on the same body. Ben handed Jackson an earpiece he had kept in his bag, tossing one to Lisa as well. Ben and Caleb were already wearing theirs, but Jackson and Lisa had been unable to in case the hallway agents were too observant.
As Lisa knelt to take the gun, glasses, and spare magazine that Caleb offered her, Ben signaled to Nikita to kill the power to the floor. This point had been discussed and argued quite a bit in the last few hours. Infrared was tricky since it was almost impossible to distinguish one figure from another. Caleb had pointed out the possibility that in the heat of things, they could confuse a target for each other (Lisa was fairly sure he had been referring only to her, but she did agree it was a legitimate concern), and Jackson had brought up that they couldn't see through walls anyway, so it didn't really help as far as observing the actual layout. But when it came down to it, they were already at such a strategic disadvantage that keeping on the lights would be far more risky.
Lisa bobbed on the balls of her feet a few times, trying not to be distracted by the new experience of seeing the heat signatures around her. She knew how much faith was being put in her, and she felt so much pressure to keep it together.
Although Jackson was technically in charge of the job, he had instructed Ben to take point, and Caleb to flank him since they were much better marksmen and Ben was more experienced of the two. Jackson was third, and Lisa brought up the rear- she was there on an "if necessary" basis, and she knew it.
She snapped to attention as Ben motioned to her and then to the door, as he and Jackson waited by the opposing wall. Caleb followed her, ready to move around her once the door was open. Lisa pulled the door open slowly, allowing Ben to peek inside- they still couldn't be sure if they were taking Keefe and his men by surprise, or if an ambush was waiting for them.
Ben nodded, and Lisa pulled the door the rest of the way, waiting for the men to enter before following. The four moved in a somewhat staggered formation through the empty foyer, and Lisa could feel her heart hammering in her throat. She still had remnants of fear, infused by the tension of finally being in the suite and seeing absolutely no one else so far. She had been under the impression that Keefe kept his men throughout his suite, and it seemed to her that an ambush was becoming more and more likely.
She had shared her previous experience with Keefe with the men earlier, and they were obviously drawing the same conclusion, traveling along the walls as they approached the living room. She stopped as she saw Ben motion to Caleb and back to a side door in the foyer. Yes, they definitely suspected a trap. Caleb and Jackson switched positions, and Lisa watched Caleb move behind her, enabling himself to watch the rear.
Lisa focused on the side door as they passed, knowing that Ben and Jackson were under control of what was in front of them- she was Caleb's flank now. It would be so much easier if they were doing this at the Lux Atlantic- she knew the layout there, and would easily be able to figure out where the best hiding places were...both for Keefe and for them. The only thing they really had to go on now was the layout of hers and Caleb's own suite, which seemed only similar to Keefe's.
Moving cautiously, they made their way through the archway and into the living room, seeing only the faint heat signatures of the furniture and walls. Lisa and Caleb hesitated in the room's entrance, still looking back at door.
"Down!" she heard Ben call out, and spun around to face the front, seeing a glimpse of a person on front of them before hitting the ground. She aimed her gun, but didn't fire, knowing that Ben would easily take out this man- she had been reminded a few times to save her bullets for an actual group. And an actual group quickly followed- before the man even hit the ground, Lisa saw several more signatures move into view and she shot frantically- even in prone position, they were so exposed. She couldn't tell how many men were in the doorway- they blended together into a mass of nauseating day-glo.
Out of the corner of her eye, she picked up another heat signature barely peeking around the entrance they had just came through. She called out to Caleb, quickly firing her gun at the figure. Just as quickly as before, there were more, and she and Caleb opened fire. Even in the neck-breaking speed of the confrontation, it was obvious to Lisa that the agents couldn't actually see them...so much for being ready.
Even as she internally celebrated this advantage, Lisa cried out as she felt a searing pain tear through her shoulder. She gritted her teeth, trying in vain to shut out the pain as she continued to fire, and adrenaline completely took control. She didn't even give it a second thought as she saw the figures fall.
Lisa finally looked around her, seeing that Ben and Jackson had made their way to the adjacent corner of the room, the sofa giving them a pathetic amount of cover. Ben got to his feet and squatted, motioning them to stay prone as he stealthily made his way closer to the figures. She held her breath, resisting every urge to at least cradle her burning shoulder- Ben was completely open to an attack, and they had to watch carefully for any movement. She then noticed that Caleb was approaching the flanking group, and turned her attention back to him. She didn't have room to think- only react and wait for a possible trick.
Caleb motioned for Lisa to keep her gun on the group as he pulled out a flashlight, enabling him to inspect the bodies to make sure they were dead and to check if Keefe was with them. She did so, assuming Ben and Jackson were doing the same. The pain was throbbing away, and Lisa felt as though her flesh were searing- she didn't remember it being this painful last time. She could feel the blood pouring down the back of her arm, and her stomach flipped again. It took all she had to focus her attention on Caleb- she couldn't let him down.
As Caleb moved the bodies, Lisa saw that there were only three men- it had seemed like so many more at the time. He checked their pulses, moving from one to the other before he reached the third man, who was apparently still alive. Caleb pulled out his knife and quickly brought it across the man's throat, finishing him off, and Lisa forced herself to not look away. Even though she knew those men weren't a danger anymore, she couldn't afford to indulge any of that weakness.
She shakily got to her feet when Caleb motioned her over, pressing her hand- while still holding her gun- to the front of her shoulder. It was fairly far from her previous wound, closer to her armpit than the side of her shoulder...she didn't know if that was good or bad.
"Are any of these him?" Caleb asked softly, and Lisa forced herself to study the bodies, focusing intently on a man who was now missing pieces of his jaw, pushing back yet another stomach lurch. It would be a miracle if she made it through this without vomiting. She quickly scanned the faces again before shaking her head- none of these men were Keefe.
"He's not here," Caleb informed the other men, knowing that they would pick up his message on their earpieces.
"He's not with the others." Lisa jumped in surprise at the proximity of Jackson's voice- she hadn't even heard him come up behind them. She tensed when she felt his hand on her arm, and turned to look at him. Caleb turned his flashlight onto her, also moving close to her.
"We don't really have time..." Caleb said awkwardly as he inspected Lisa's wound. Jackson nodded, but his eyes didn't leave Lisa's. Even in the dim light reflecting off her skin, Lisa could easily see the worry in his face. She was hurting badly, but Caleb was right. The agents hadn't been using silenced guns, so it was very likely the shots had been heard. And they still hadn't found Keefe.
"I'll be fine," she managed through gritted teeth. "It just hurts...we need to get Keefe though," she assured Jackson. She couldn't be a distraction for him. "I can wait here and bandage it myself." She smiled weakly, trying to soothe away his concern the best she could. "Just don't leave without me, okay?"
"Are you sure?" Jackson said, and Lisa's gaze briefly flickered to Ben and Caleb, who were already beginning to regroup. She looked back at Jackson, nodding, trying so hard to look confident.
"Yeah," she replied. "Sorry I...couldn't help more." Jackson shook his head roughly.
"You're going to help," he insisted, helping her into a sitting position against the wall. "We're going on ahead, but if Keefe is on the run from us, he'll come out this door again...so you have to watch it." Lisa managed a genuine but feeble smile at his reassuring tone.
"Don't forget to talk to me," she replied, letting Jackson eject her empty magazine and reload the gun before handing it to her. "I wouldn't want to shoot you by accident."
"I don't want that either," he replied, matching her expression. "We'll be back."
With that, Jackson turned and quickly rejoined his teammates, leaving Lisa alone in the dark. She put her glasses back on, but knew that it was a formality. She was fairly certain that Keefe wasn't in the suite. If he knew they were coming, he would have to be very stupid or have a large amount of hubris to stick around.
Balancing her gun on her thigh where she could quickly grab it, Lisa touched her own arm, gritting her teeth and hissing in pain when her fingers grazed the exit wound. It was close to the back of her armpit, and with the entrance wound being closer to the actual side of her arm, it was going to be impossible to wrap.
Well, she could at least get one of the wounds covered- that had to help. And since she had no idea where the exit wound was, she focused on her front. She gripped the hem of her top, quickly tearing off a strip of soft fabric. She didn't know how well it would absorb the blood, but it had to be better than letting her wound bleed freely.
Trying to move as quickly as possible, Lisa held one end of the strip between her teeth, wrapping the strip across her entrance wound and sealing it. She tilted her head, pressing her ear to shoulder to try and muffle some of her winces to avoid distracting the men.
Lisa jumped in surprise, her heart stopping momentarily when she heard more gunshots. One of the men- sounded like Ben- cried out in pain, and then there was silence again except for their breathing. Lisa never thought she'd be so relieved to hear that sound. Oh God, please let them be okay. Please let it be over. It felt like an hour, silently praying to God, before she heard one of the brothers verify that the agents were dead and again, Keefe wasn't with them.
Lisa shook her head internally, resuming her ministrations. She knew Keefe wasn't there. She was convinced of it. Tying the fabric in a tight knot, Lisa retrieved her gun, listening as one of the twins- she was fairly sure it was Jackson- spoke up.
"Check him- I think I saw someone up ahead," he murmured, and Lisa heard Ben protest that he was fine- it was just his leg- but Jackson(?) insisted that he stay there. "Heading your way, Leese," he continued, and then she was sure it was him. "Stay alert."
"Alright," she managed, pulling herself into a crouching position and picking up the gun again. "Please talk to me..." She was terrified now. Jackson thought he saw someone. Didn't mean that he did. She couldn't be trigger happy now- if he was wrong, she could easily just shoot him as soon as he came through the door.
But there was only silence. Of course Jackson couldn't continuously talk to her- she knew that. If there was another trained bodyguard in wait, talking would give away his position and make him easier to track in the dark. Lisa held her gun in a ready position, her heart hammering away in her throat as the seconds ticked by. She heard Caleb and Ben faintly speaking, but she forced herself to block them out. Only one voice mattered right now.
And she didn't hear it.
Instead, she heard more shots. And then, she heard the voice, but it was a strangled groan she recognized too well from her dad's house- she had caused that groan. And she knew- Jackson was down, and she had to get to him.
Instinctively, Lisa sprang to her feet and pressed against the wall like she had before, quickly reaching for the door. She slowly turned the knob, pulling the door back from the jamb as quietly as possible before throwing it open. She stepped into the doorway, her heart flipping in her chest when she saw the figure lying on the ground- she couldn't make out any features, but she knew.
She set her jaw angrily, her attention turning quickly to the other figure, who was standing over Jackson. From what she could see, his back was to her- he was waiting for the others. Without another thought, Lisa opened fire, emptying her magazine into the man. She didn't even bother worrying that she had the situation incorrect and she was actually shooting Jackson- she just knew.
"I got him," she announced, not bothering to lower her voice. She knew the suite was cleared. "Jackson's down." She was trying to remain calm, but she heard the wavering in her own voice. Don't fall apart now. Lisa looked down at the man she had shot, and saw that something was still in his hand, probably his gun. She pressed her heel down, kicking the weapon away in case he wasn't dead, before kneeling down, pressing her fingers to his throat. No pulse.
"Nik, lights," Ben commanded as Caleb came rushing into the room. Lisa tossed her glasses to the side, standing to flip on the light switch to the bathroom. Forcing herself to not look at Jackson, she focused her attention on the other man, and her stomach dropped again. It was Keefe. He was a goddamn moron. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she finally turned to look at Caleb, giving him a quick nod of confirmation. Finally lowering her gaze to Jackson, she bit her lip at the sight of him. He looked so pained, as though every intake of breath was a burden on him. And Lisa just felt...hate. She couldn't believe she had ever thought the dead man at her feet was good. Jackson was good. It just wasn't fair.
Willing herself to focus once again, Lisa dropped to her knees at Jackson's side. He had been shot in the chest, but was still conscious. Thank God for that, at least. His breathing was as shallow as she remembered back in her father's house, his eyes just as clouded.
"What do we do?" she asked Caleb, feeling completely lost. Could they move him? Ben limped into the room, giving a soft "fuck" when he saw the scene in front of him.
"I think he'll be able to walk," Caleb said calmly, almost matter-of-factly, looking down at his brother for confirmation. The older man nodded, groaning sharply as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position. "Can you help him? I have to carry Ben- don't want him losing too much blood, because we might need it."
Me? Lisa paled, giving herself a few seconds of panic. She wasn't exactly sturdy. She didn't know how quickly they would be able to move, but she also knew that her doubt was killing even more time. Leaving him there was not an option, so she had to do her best. She made eye contact with Jackson again, setting her jaw as she leaned down, letting him drape an arm over her shoulders.
We'll be fine, she repeated to herself again and again, hoping she was somehow giving him some kind of reassurance as she strained to pull both of them to their feet, letting out a cry of effort and pain as her own injury throbbed, a fresh stream of blood rushing down her arm. Thankfully, Jackson found the strength to carry most of his own weight in this initial effort.
When they were halfway to their feet, Lisa wrapped her good arm around Jackson's waist for support, shifting her weight again to allow him to lean on her. She nodded at Caleb, who had Ben on his back, and followed the two men out the door.
Her speed increased as adrenaline took over again, and she followed Caleb into the elevator, almost matching his quick pace. She gritted her teeth again and leaned forward, simultaneously pressing the "basement" and "close door" buttons with the fingers of her free hand, holding them down as the door closed. She had learned this trick and bitchily depended on it at her old job- it prevented the elevator from stopping at any other floor. She figured that if the police had been called, they were likely in the lobby, and this was a way to bypass being caught.
She barely heard Ben telling Nikita to have the car ready to go. Jackson's head slumped against hers, his shallow breaths echoing in her ear. Lisa brought up her free hand to grip the hand draped across her shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze. We'll be fine.
As the elevator descended, she felt Jackson lean more heavily against her, and he exhaled heavily. Stay with me... She just tightened her grip on him, reassuring herself by listening to his breathing. She could only hope he was somehow getting her messages- she didn't trust her voice at the moment. Her own pain was hardly registering- how could she even think about it when Jackson was barely conscious?
The elevator came to a stop, and Lisa quickly followed Caleb through the bowels of the hotel. With him leading the way, they quickly exited the back door and to the waiting car. Caleb let Ben drop to the ground, finally able to help Lisa move Jackson into the backseat.
They lay him down across the back seat, both squeezing themselves into the footrest areas. Once they were down, Ben gave the command to take off, and Nikita floored it- they could hear the faint sirens, and had to get out of there fast. Lisa cried out as the car took a sharp turn, but she hadn't been paying attention and didn't have time to brace herself.
Jackson brought a hand to Lisa's side, reflexively catching her from slamming her left side into the door. He frowned when he realized that the warmth he felt against his palm was quite wet, and once the car steadied itself again, he pulled away, looking at his hand. He knew his hand had his own blood on it before, but not this much. Not so much that rivulets, blackened by the night, ran over the backs of his fingers. It hit him sickeningly hard that this was Lisa's blood.
He looked up at her again, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. He could see the blood soaking through her bandage, but it wasn't bleeding like this. Was there another wound they had missed? He hissed in pain as Nikita took another sharp turn- at least they would be out of the area soon, and then she could drive more smoothly. He felt Caleb's hands tearing open his shirt, but barely noticed him, really. His brother knew what he was doing.
Jackson's focus was on Lisa, the wild fear and pain in her eyes as she watched Caleb work. He had known this was a possibility, of course, and he knew that she chose to come with them, but no matter how much he tried to rationalize it...he couldn't forgive himself for allowing her to be hurt like this.
Lisa finally made eye contact with him, and she tilted her head in confusion, as though she was just sensing his concern. Knowing her, she probably wasn't even acknowledging her own injuries, and frankly, that worried him. She seemed to have it in her head that supporting them meant ignoring herself, and he didn't want that.
Lisa glanced down at the bloody hand that had triggered Jackson's latest concern, and seemed to understand what he was thinking. "I couldn't reach the back," she explained softly, almost embarrassed. Jackson winced, but this time it had nothing to do with his chest. She felt like a burden, didn't she?
Jackson looked over at Caleb, who also seemed to read his mind, digging in his bag. Jackson realized that Caleb had already sealed his chest- he was breathing much better now. Sure enough, he looked down to see that valve seal...Ackerman? Asherman? Didn't matter- he was just in pain now. And pain was something he could deal with.
Caleb placed a roll of bandage and gauze in Jackson's other hand and then shifted Jackson's legs, moving up to kneel between them and give himself better access. Lisa shook her head, still staring at Jackson's hand. "I'm fine," she insisted, but her voice was strained. "It just hurts." She let out a small sob when Caleb firmly lifted Jackson onto his side, giving himself better access to the exit wound and causing a sharp groan of pain from Jackson.
As Caleb's fingers quickly moved across Jackson's back, Lisa let out another sob, Caleb's words from a few days ago coming back to her. Just cross your fingers that he doesn't get another injury in that same lung. Yes, Jackson's wound was sealed for now, but it was that same lung. And he seemed so...detached from it. Oh God please...
Despite how hard she tried to regain her composure, she felt herself breathing rapidly, her tears streaming down her cheeks now. What are the chances that he'll die?
Good.
Jackson felt the knot in his stomach tighten as Lisa began to fall apart. He knew he had to get that wound covered, but Jesus, he had to get her calm somehow. He hissed in pain again at Caleb applying pressure to his own wound, and tasted his own blood on his tongue. He tried to hide it, but he knew Lisa saw everything.
"Leese," he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady as possible to reassure her. When she didn't seem to even hear him, he placed his palm on her cheek, his fingers resting in her hair. "We'll be fine, remember?" He was so focused on her that he didn't even noticed what Caleb was doing anymore, and didn't even register the needle being inserted into his free arm.
Lisa let out another whimper, leaning into his touch. She wanted to believe it so badly, but Caleb had said... She couldn't lose him now. Not in the back of a car like this. Not over a specimen like Keefe. It wasn't fair, wasn't right.
"We'll be fine," she repeated, even though she just didn't believe it. His face was so pale, and a soft haze seemed to settle in his eyes. In the darkness, she couldn't really see the extent of the blood on the seat, but she could tell there was quite a bit of it.
She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but she couldn't say that. 'I love you' was so final. She could only curse her own tears, her own weakness. She had to find more strength somewhere, stay strong for him. He shouldn't have to worry about her at a time like this. Chances are one or both of us will be dead by this time tomorrow.
No. She couldn't think like that. But how the hell was she supposed to think about anything else?
"We'll be fine," she said again, trying to sound more sure of herself this time. She saw Jackson lean up with much effort, and quickly closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his. She winced slightly at the metallic taste that she knew was his blood, but she didn't care. This was too important. She let her lips say what her voice couldn't. I love you. I need you. I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger. And maybe it was her imagination, but she heard the same message repeated back to her in his kiss.
Jackson felt something of a calm wash over him as he broke the kiss. He wasn't ready to pull away yet- the contact was just too comforting, so he pressed his forehead against hers, staring into her soothing eyes before the pain became too much and he had to pull away. With his brother's assistance, he was finally able to fully lay on his back again, and he let his eyes close, exhaling deeply.
Caleb rested back on his heels, turning his attention to Ben in the front seat. The bandage seemed to be doing its job just fine, so there wasn't much to do for him for the time being. "How is it?" he asked, smiling weakly when Ben muttered a sarcastic "King."
"Keep it elevated," he reminded him, turning his attention back to Jackson. His brother was as fine as he could be, all things considering. The Asherman seal was enabling him to breathe easily, and the bandages were fine- it was just a matter of getting him to Thomas' house to actually operate on the damn thing, which was definitely going to be the hard part. Thomas' house was equipped for things like broken bones, more minor gunshots, but sucking chest wounds were so damn complicated. Caleb already found himself running mentally through everything he had learned so he would be as ready as possible. Speaking of which, it occurred to him that he should definitely call Thomas so he could be ready, too.
Reaching forward, Caleb removed Jackson's phone from his pocket, and then noticed his brother's struggles with Lisa. They were attempting to bandage her exit wound, but failing somewhat miserably. It seemed that her exit wound was at an odd angle, and it was too much effort for Jackson. Lisa was helping the best she could, but one arm could only provide so much assistance. Caleb set down the phone again.
"Come here," he said to Lisa, leaning forward further as she followed suit. He quickly grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it over her head- there was no time for modesty concerns. Glancing at the material in his hands, he knew that it was insufficient to wipe away her blood- it wasn't absorbent enough. He tossed it aside, picking up the shirt Jackson had been wearing, quickly wiping the excess blood from her side, barely registering her sharp hisses.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise noting just how much there was- if he had to guess, without looking, it seemed very possible that the bullet had struck the axillary artery. If that was the case...Caleb didn't even want to think about it. For now, he just had to hope he was wrong and help get her stabilized.
Caleb clenched his jaw as he finished cleaning her wound as best he could. This whole experience went against everything he had been taught- using Jackson's blood-soaked shirt to wipe Lisa's wounds, no gloves, yet another operation- hell, a series of operations, if he was correct about Lisa and depending on just how badly Ben's calf had been torn up- in unsterile conditions, with shitty anesthetic...
He shook his head, carefully wrapping the bandage and holding it in place so his brother could use his teeth to tear a fresh strip of tape from the roll. No point worrying about it, because hospitals are not an option. Suck it up. As Jackson placed the tape across the bandage, all three turned their attention to the ringing phone on Jackson's thigh. Marie. Shit.
Caleb glanced down at Jackson, who just nodded a go-head. "You have to talk to her," Jackson said firmly. "Don't want her knowing..." Just in case, Caleb finished internally. Jackson didn't want her knowing that he was injured. It made sense, but him talk to Marie? He hadn't spoken to her since he left the agency, for Christ's sake.
But Jackson obviously wasn't going to take the call, and they couldn't let it go to voicemail, so Caleb reluctantly grabbed the phone, flipping it open. Before bringing the phone to his ear, he shot a panicked look at his brother. He knew Jackson spoke French to her, and Caleb hadn't said more than 'garage' in years. "I don't-"
"English," Jackson muttered, reading his thoughts before he even spoke them. Caleb nodded. Of course. Speaking English was probably less suspicious than lousy French.
As he finally focused his attention on the phone, he could hear Marie speaking rapidly already, and he understood maybe every three words. He covered the phone with his hand, focusing on Ben. "Call Thomas," he told his friend, "and then Jeff." He had a feeling they were going to need as many hands as possible, no matter how inexperienced.
"We got him," he interrupted Marie, finally giving her his complete attention. "And we made it out." You psychopath, he added internally. Jackson might be enamored with her, but she had never really gotten Caleb under that spell of manipulation.
"And Ben?" She asked after a few stunned seconds, likely surprised that he was speaking English. Caleb pondered for a moment- lie and say Ben was there, or tell the truth?
"He's with us," he finally said, figuring that she would find out anyway when Ben's body wasn't found in the suite. He shot Jackson a glance to see if he had made the right choice, but Jackson's face gave away nothing.
"Why?" Marie demanded, sounding somewhat less than pleased. And then she launched into a scolding that Caleb couldn't understand literally, but was fairly sure he heard anyway. She was calling him- well, Jackson- a failure.
"We need him," was all Caleb replied, finally grateful that Jackson wasn't one to elaborate. He wasn't in the mood to think of a lie, to shift their roles with mental gymnastics.
"Why?" she demanded again, and Caleb scowled. He looked down at Jackson, whose face was almost unrecognizable with the pain. He shifted his gaze to Lisa, who was covered in various places in her blood, Jackson's blood, that bodyguard's blood, and God only knew who else's, and then to Ben, who was attempting to convince Jeff that it was safe to come to Thomas', his voice strained as he fought back pain of his own. And Caleb finally lost his patience with the entire damn thing.
"Because you gave me two goddamn days to come up with this plan and execute it with absolutely no team, not to mention using me to take care of your petty grudges, and just because you wanted it. That's-" he cut himself off with a sharp groan as he felt Jackson kick him firmly in the ribcage. Without another word, Caleb cut off the screaming woman by closing the phone.
"Lost the signal," he muttered, turning his attention to Ben as the taller man simulated an explosion from the front seat, wordlessly conveying just how badly Caleb had handled that.
"Terrific," Jackson groaned, shaking his head, and Ben carefully maneuvered to face the backseat passengers. He opened his mouth to speak, but was caught off-guard by the sight of Lisa's back. He had heard what was happening with her injury, of course, but he was fairly sure he was the first one who really got to see the extent.
Caleb had wiped away some of the blood, but Ben could see the dark stains on her skin, and there was more drying on her lower back, staining the waistband of her pants. He carefully reached around, letting his leg finally move from the dashboard as he gently gripped Lisa's shoulders. She barely turned to look at him as he maneuvered her to rest against the seat back. Unlike Caleb, who while obviously caring, was distracted by the other goings on, and Jackson, who was likely full of just as much denial as fear, Ben could be objective, and to him, even from behind, Lisa looked exhausted.
He could see how pale she was, how weakly she held herself, and he could see how much blood she had lost. But he was also fairly sure that she knew as well and was keeping it to herself, much like he himself was- his leg hurt like a motherfucker, but there were just more important things to worry about. He would definitely have to take a better look at Thomas' house without either Rippner distracting her.
Returning Lisa's small smile of gratitude, Ben finally turned to Jackson, whose face was a stubborn mask of determination. Ben couldn't even imagine how much pain he was in, but apparently there were more important things than that, too. What a fucking business.
"So, before you pass out, I think we need to talk about what the fuck just happened in there," he said to Jackson, who nodded, but Ben noticed his eyelids faltering. He would have loved to let Jackson relax, but they weren't finished, and the man was still their authority, really. "I don't think it's too much of a stretch to say that they were ready for us, is it?"
Jackson shook his head. It could be argued that they were just paranoid, but if that was the case, why come to Miami in the first place? That was definitely a failed attempt at a capture. He glanced over at Caleb, who placed the phone back on Jackson's stomach, showing no remorse for what he had said. Jackson didn't care that much either, really. It was done, and Marie wasn't a priority at the moment.
"And if I'm right," Ben continued, "that means your friend is in a lot of trouble...either from his coworkers, or from us." Jackson nodded again. He didn't believe for a moment that Jonathan had betrayed them- no, he hadn't told the man anything about his whereabouts or the specific plan, but his phone could have easily been traced before the attacks had even happened.
He turned his attention to Lisa when he felt her hand gingerly squeeze his forearm. "Aren't you going to warn him?" she asked, her eyes wide. Jackson shook his head firmly, praying this would be one of those times she just listened without questioning. No such luck. "You can't just let him die without trying to help."
"It's one of the risks," Jackson insisted. He had already made that much clear to the man. He was well aware it was cold, but he might still be useful, and Jackson couldn't have him fleeing just yet.
Lisa shook her head again, her eyes boring into his. Jackson broke the eye contact, feelings of irritation that she was pressing and embarrassment that she was right fighting for position. Well, that and an odd sense of amusement that despite the concern in her eyes, despite the fact that she had practically fallen to pieces a moment ago, she still found the wherewithal to rebuke him. Thankfully, Ben chimed in again, interrupting Lisa before she could even retort.
"Call him," he insisted, and Jackson stared incredulously. Ben knew better than that. "Don't look at me like that," Ben snapped. "We left a big fucking mess in that suite- all that blood, hair, no body- we need one of ours in there for the investigation. And your guy will know how to get ahold of Spencer. She can probably help." Jackson raised an incredulous eyebrow. Everything about this was unorthodox. If they needed support, they never asked themselves, and they sure as hell never used an informant as a middleman.
He finally opened his mouth to respond- Christ, he was tired, but Ben seemed to anticipate what he was going to say. His eyes fixated intensely on Jackson's with a hint of an uncharacteristic plea. "Just trust me."
Jackson sighed heavily, wincing sharply at the stabbing pain it caused. Ben was right. And he really hated being put in his place by that man. Of course they needed one of theirs investigating, and it wasn't like he knew how to get ahold of them- Marie had always handled the government side herself. And Agent Spencer was actually a good idea- she had helped cover up a job more than once for the agency in the past since she was actually more of a federal investigator than CIA agent. Hell, he was pretty sure she was already involved in the Keefe affair after his previous fuck up, so she was definitely the best option. But...God, Jackson hated the idea of bringing her in.
With a sharp groan, he reached for his phone- the throbbing was spreading through his entire upper body, feeling like it was growing by the second. But Caleb snatched it up first, scanning through the contacts. He didn't need to ask questions- he knew the name, he knew what Jackson wanted, and he knew how Jackson would talk to Jonathan.
And maybe it was better that way, really. Jackson groaned again, shifting slightly against the blood-warmed upholstery. Normally, he hated giving up the reins so easily. He wanted to be on the phone, in control, making the orders and the decisions. But his head was swimming in a disgusting haze of a thousand pieces of information all trying to process- the past, the present, and the future. The pain, the job, Marie, fucking everything. And it felt surprisingly good- and was even more surprisingly easy- to let Caleb and Ben fill his role, so he could just let go.
He turned his head to give Lisa one last faint smile- for now, at least- which she returned. Really, he was ridiculously proud of her. He knew she probably blamed herself for needing that reassurance earlier, but he needed it in a way. She brought the humanity into their methodical operation, and at the moment, was giving him something to fight for. No, that wasn't it. She reminded him, wordlessly reassured him that what he was fighting for, what he did- his very existence- wasn't so cruel. Whereas she had previously made him think of how...inhuman he was in comparison, now, it was different. She saw the good in him, and was starting to make him believe it again.
Lisa bit down on her lip softly, trying to read the novels being written in Jackson's eyes. He looked...peaceful. Was that a good thing? She looked over at Caleb, who had finished his conversation with the informant- despite the fact that Caleb had called him by name only seconds ago, Lisa had already forgotten it- but he looked relatively unconcerned.
"Duramorph's kicking in," he explained casually, handing Jackson's phone up to Ben, who had turned around again and was slumped in his seat. "He'll be a little out of it for awhile...don't worry."
Lisa laughed humorlessly. "Don't worry," she repeated, her voice embarrassingly shaky. Caleb chuckled softly.
"Don't panic?" he suggested with a lightheartedness she wished she could tap into. But behind the smile, she could see the concern in his eyes, but reminded herself that she was relatively powerless at this point. She had done her best to help Jackson feel more comfortable, but the actual repair was all on Caleb and Thomas. She just had to stay out of their way now.
"I can do that," she replied, turning her head to glance out the window as she realized the car had slowed significantly. They must be close. "Just...let me know if I can help," she murmured, lowering her head to look at the lightening sky, momentarily distracted by the beauty of that soft purple before a sudden sensation of dizziness forced her to sit up straight again.
"Definitely," Caleb replied, and Lisa could hear him shifting his position on the seat again as Nikita pulled the car into a driveway. "Can you help Nikita get Ben into the house? Thomas and I need to get him inside right away."
Lisa nodded, turning to look over her shoulder as she heard Ben murmur something foreign-sounding...Russian, probably...to the other woman. She watched the redhead practically jump out of the car and rush around, but instead of going to Ben's door, Nikita opened Lisa's door, holding out a hand to help her climb out. Lisa gratefully took the assistance. Her own movement caused the ground to waver unsteadily under her feet, and she almost hit the pavement.
With Nikita's help, Lisa quickly moved out of the way of a man who had come up behind her- probably Thomas- and couldn't help but watch in fascination how the two men moved so swiftly, smoothly pulling Jackson from the car with Caleb following him out the door. They carried him so carefully, but Lisa couldn't help but think that they definitely could have used a stretcher.
Feeling incredibly guilty, Lisa forced herself to look away from the men. Now that they were out of the shadows, she could see just how pale Jackson's face was. How weak he looked. It was a sharp contrast to the man she had been with for the past few days, and she couldn't handle looking at him anymore.
Her observations were interrupted by her knees buckling, and she let out a sharp groan as Nikita's grip around her waist tightened. "Shouldn't we help Ben?" she asked the woman, turning to face her. Nikita shook her head.
"You need it more," she replied, and Lisa frowned. She was just dizzy for God's sake. She didn't even feel that much pain anymore. But Caleb had made it sound like Ben needed to keep his weight off his leg.
"Come on, Lisa Lee," Ben chimed in before she could respond, limping with effort to her other side. "We need to get you on an IV, unless you want to keep pretending that you're fine," he continued, placing a hand on the small of her back. Lisa whipped around to face him, ready to argue that she wasn't that bad, but she was silenced by the look of knowing in his eyes.
"You know how to do an IV?" she finally mumbled, her face crimson with a strange embarrassment. Ben only grinned as the two New Yorkers helped Lisa make her way into the house, and Lisa felt a mix of reassurance and the exact opposite. She couldn't decide if she was in the hands of a pro or a mad scientist.
As the trio followed the sounds the men were making and finally arrived in a room that seemed to double as storage and an office, they were greeted by Thomas' back.
"What do you need?" he asked, without turning around.
"Saline IV," Ben replied, leaving Lisa's side to approach him. Thomas quickly placed assortment of objects that Lisa couldn't really see into an empty box and handed it over to Ben, finally turning to look at him.
"Shit," he gasped, pulling away. "You're not supposed to be here."
Ben smirked, holding the box under one arm. "I get that a lot," he replied casually.
Thomas shook his head, and from Lisa could see, he actually looked scared. "I'm serious. You're marked. If Marie finds out I let you stay here...she'll kill me."
No. Just...no. Lisa felt uncharacteristic anger rise in her chest. A hundred protests fought for escape from her mouth- Ben was helping her, he needed help, they would probably all be dead without him, he was her friend...that was enough, really. She reached down to the waistband of her pants, where her gun was still tucked, and held it up with a strained gasp of pain.
"Would you rather die now?" she asked through clenched teeth, not giving herself time to think about just how reckless she was being. She wasn't going to let Ben be turned away because of that bitch's order. Just...absolutely not.
Thomas stared at her in surprise, and Lisa felt a rush of power at the fear in his eyes that if she really thought about, she might find sickening. But it accomplished her goal, and the doctor only walked out, taking the supplies he needed.
"Badass," Ben marveled approvingly, approaching her again. With his free hand, he took her gun, ejecting the magazine. "Might want to have rounds in it next time, though," he added with a wink.
Lisa smiled weakly as she was led to the chair, sitting down again. "I still have my death threat training wheels on," she remarked dryly, provoking a chuckle from Ben.
"Cute," he remarked, pulling out an object that Lisa vaguely recognized from hospital visits, but she wouldn't know where to start on its actual name. A monitor, maybe? He stared for a moment, obviously trying to remember what he was supposed to do next. He finally craned his neck to the open door with a resigned expression, yelling for Caleb.
Lisa frowned. She really didn't want to pull Caleb from what he was doing. But the doctor had heard Ben's call and quickly came into the room, pulling off his bloody gloves and tossing them into the trash. "I don't know how to work the pump," Ben admitted, moving to the side as Caleb approached, grabbing the mechanism.
"Get off your leg," Caleb snapped firmly, grabbing a gray, rectangular object from the box. Ben obediently stepped back, sitting on the desk as Nikita pushed Lisa's chair closer to him. Lisa watched mesmerized as Caleb attached the object to the pump, placing both on the desk next to Ben's thigh and pushing firmly to snap them together. She didn't understand any of what he was doing as he skillfully worked the controls on the pump, but it was fascinating to see him so composed. But it was his job- or had been- so it was to be expected.
She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, trying to focus as a shiver raced up her spine. It was so cold in there, and she couldn't even wrap her arms around herself. "Alright," Caleb began again when he had finished, handing the pump back to Ben. "You can take care of the rest, right?" When Ben nodded, Caleb shot Lisa another reassuring smile and headed for the door. "We're going to need you- soon," Lisa heard him call as he walked away, and now that she couldn't see him anymore, she could hear how frantic his voice actually sounded.
Lisa turned to look at Ben again, questioning in her eyes. "He's being a vampire," Ben explained lightly, wiping the crook of Lisa's arm with an alcohol pad. "Wants my blood."
"Oh," Lisa managed weakly, squinting her eyes. She was having a hard time adjusting to the dim room- things kept getting blurry. She let out a small cry when she felt Ben inject the needle into her arm, more in surprise than real pain. "How do you know...?" She trailed off, fidgeting. She could feel her body shivering slightly, but she could also feel the sweat on her brow.
"Oh, we've talked enough about me," Ben replied good naturedly, but Lisa swore she heard something more serious in his voice. "Tell me about yourself."
"Like what?" she replied, furrowing her brow. That was such a weird request. She caught his gaze, and as the nervousness in his features became apparent, the reality of the situation finally hit her with nauseating force. He was trying to keep her talking- keep her awake. As she fidgeted again in the seat, it finally registered that she was still losing blood- the leather was sticky against her bare skin.
"Oh God," she whispered, closing her eyes as the dizzy sensation increased along with her panic. Even sitting, she felt like she was going to fall over. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"
"Not today," Ben replied, his tone too soothing. Oh God. It hadn't even occurred to her. Yes, she had known that Jackson was a higher priority, but Jesus, she wasn't that noble. It had never crossed her mind to sacrifice herself for him- she honestly hadn't thought it was that bad. But at the same time...she didn't even consider asking Ben to get Caleb to be an option.
"Lisa," Ben said firmly, interrupting her thoughts. She could hear him lean forward on the desk, flinching when she felt his grip near her elbows. "You're going to be fine. We're getting saline into you, alright?"
Lisa could only whimper. She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready. She had only just begun to really feel alive, for God's sake.
"You need to tell him something," she said quietly. If she was about to die, she'd be damned if she did nothing to ease Jackson's inevitable guilt about it at least somewhat. He was going to blame himself- of course he was. And he shouldn't. At all. "No, shut up and listen," she snapped, interrupting his protests. God only knew how long the Rippners were going to be in that other room, and he was her only option.
Ben didn't respond, and Lisa forced herself to open her eyes, noting with relief that her dizziness had passed again. She bit her lip at the look on his face- he was now listening intently. It was what she wanted, but it definitely made the situation seem more dire. At least if Ben argued, Lisa could think there was some hope that she was overreacting. But he was listening. This was serious.
"Tell him..." She trailed off, frowning again. Tell him what? What could possibly be enough? Maybe the truth would be enough. "Tell him I chose to come. That I wanted to. That I don't regret it...I'm scared," she whimpered, interrupting her own message. Ben only nodded, looking incredibly uncomfortable, and she didn't really blame him. They both knew that he wasn't the man she wanted sitting with her.
Lisa grimaced. There were so many things she wanted to say, but none of them seemed appropriate. Everything she had given him so far was a repeat of already spoken ideas- she had to give him something else. And words couldn't express how much she hated the very idea of Jackson hearing these things for the first time from Ben. Not that there was anything wrong with the man, but God, she wanted to say them to Jackson. But...just in case...she would rather use the less than perfect mediary than never tell him.
"Tell him...well, and this is for you, too but more for him," Lisa babbled on, the words starting to not even make sense to her own ears. Hopefully Ben could put it all in the right order if he had to. Goddamn it, this might be her last chance to tell Jackson how she really felt, and she didn't have the words. "I felt alive, more than-" She cut herself off, frowning. "No, don't say 'alive'- not a good word. But I don't know how else to say...complete?" She made a face at the very idea. "It's..." She cringed again. He saved me.
"I think it's a good word," Ben assured her, and Lisa whimpered again when he took her hand in his. "But...I think we should talk about something else." He gave her a faint smile. "Because he and I won't have to have this conversation, and you probably want to tell him yourself, right?"
Lisa nodded, trying to blink back her tears, but she was minutes too late for that. "Do you think he's going to die?" she asked softly. It wasn't much of a subject change, but she felt incapable of keeping her thoughts to herself at this point- she was bursting to ask someone who might have a better idea. He...made me feel whole.
"I don't think he knows how," Ben replied, grinning faintly. "No, honestly- Cal's good at what he does. And really..." His smile faded into something more sober. "...if he didn't have a chance, Cal would have insisted that we leave him there. That man...can be fucking cold when he has to be."
Lisa nodded, actually feeling somewhat reassured. "Cheryl said that, too," she replied. She was feeling much calmer now- which was probably Ben's intention. "She said...he's as cold as Jackson wishes he could be." For someone who thinks he's made of ice...he's so passionate.
Ben raised his eyebrows, nodding absently. "I suppose that's true," he admitted, looking as though he hadn't thought about it before. I felt strong with him...most of the time.
Lisa leaned her head back on the seat. It felt so heavy. "That whole night was so twisted," she admitted. "I didn't even want to tell Jackson about it. I'm a great secret-keeper, you know. I have lots of secrets..." She smiled softly, realizing that she didn't feel cold anymore. She must have finally adjusted- at least that was what she tried to convince herself, but somehow, she knew it wasn't true. I love him. Not in a storybook, perfect way...it's been rough, I've wanted to give up, he's wanted to give up, but we...can't. Couldn't. Please get him here soon- I need him here. I need him to tell me I'm wrong again, that he was it under control.
"Lots of secrets," she repeated faintly, feeling so...floaty. Caleb must have given her some of that...whatever it was called. "It's good stuff," she heard herself relay, barely noticing Ben asking what she was talking about. Whatever- he could ask Caleb about it. "How long do you think they'll be?" She honestly wasn't sure if she was actually speaking out loud anymore, or just thinking to herself. Her eyes fluttered closed again of their own accord- the darkness felt so wonderful this time. Comfortable.
And somewhere in her mind- her memories- she felt Jackson was there, holding her in his arms, lulling her to sleep. Taking her to a place where even pain itself couldn't hurt them.
Caleb's head snapped up, and he quickly turned to Thomas. The older doctor appeared quite frustrated, but Caleb still stood back from the makeshift operating table. The two men had been preparing to remove one of Jackson's ribs, which had been shattered by bullet. It would also make for an easier operation on the lung itself.
"I'll be right back," Caleb muttered, frustrated himself. He had heard the urgency in Ben's voice, and he knew that he had an obligation to go to him, but for fuck's sake, this was his brother. He made eye contact with Jeff, who was monitoring Jackson's heart rate through a stethoscope, looking close to fainting already just at the idea of what they were about to do. Ripping off his gloves, he added "She's important, too." He knew Thomas could keep Jackson stable, and besides, he needed to send in Ben before they could start operating anyway.
But still. Caleb allowed himself one last glance at his unconscious brother, rubbing the back of his neck. Everything in him screamed to stay, but he knew that Jackson had put his faith in him to hold things together. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly tore his gaze away, quickly turning on the ball of his foot and heading quickly down the hallway.
Caleb entered the room, his breath catching in his throat when he saw Lisa slumped in the seat, and the frantic expression written all over Ben's face.
"She just..." Ben began explaining, but Caleb cut him off with a wave of his hand, approaching the unconscious woman. As he got closer, he shook his head, the dread continuing to build. "Should we hook up a transfusion?"
Caleb shook his head, bending over Lisa and tilting her forward. He should have taken more time to examine her himself. With every observation, his heart sank further and further. He had missed so much blood. As he took her arm in his hand, gently probing the skin, he knew with disgusting confidence that he had been right before. Her skin was cold, clammy, and significant bruising was already spreading over her shoulder and down her back. The bandage was doing its job, but she was still bleeding- internally.
And as Caleb gingerly removed the bandage- blocking out Ben's protests- the sight of blood rushing to the wound left absolutely no room for interpretation. Her axillary artery hadn't just been nicked- it had been severed. He didn't even have to open her up. There was no other explanation for that much blood.
Caleb closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. "Go to Thomas," he ordered, his jaw tensing in an effort to keep his voice steady. "I'll stay with her." He didn't have to open his eyes to see the incredulous expression on Ben's face.
"She just needs fucking blood," the taller man argued, knowing full well what Caleb was implying. "And stitches, right?" Caleb shook his head, or thought he did, anyway. He had been prepared for this- they all were. But that didn't mean he was fucking okay with it.
An severed artery snaps like a rubber band. Even if I could find the fucking ends- if I had the time to find them, to repair them, reconnect them, and do it all myself- she's losing blood faster than we're going to replace it. His fingers pressed to Lisa's wrist, wincing at the faint flutter where he should have felt a strong pulse. She has minutes left...maybe.
He could have given Ben a hundred reasons why what he was saying wasn't correct, but all that came out was a harsh "Go." He heard a deep intake of air from his friend, and knew he was about to argue, but when Caleb finally opened his eyes again, raising his head to meet Ben's, the taller man closed his mouth again.
"Fuck," he muttered before exiting the room, hissing with pained effort.
Caleb inhaled deeply again, trying to keep his emotions at bay. They still had an operation to do, and he couldn't afford to lose control of himself. But he also wasn't about to leave Lisa to die alone, even if she was likely completely unaware of his presence. He gathered her up in his arms, breathing shakily as he carried her out of the room. He couldn't really explain it- he wanted to put her in a bed.
And he did so, instinctively pulling off his own shirt and putting it over her small frame. He then sat on the edge of the bed, turning his head to look down at the woman who had somehow entrenched herself in their lives in a matter of days. Staring down at Lisa, who was emitting the shallowest of breaths, Caleb couldn't help but wish that he and Jackson could somehow switch places. His own medical capabilities were useless anyway, and it should have been Jackson there with her, not him. On the other hand...maybe it was better this way. At least Jackson wouldn't have to see her so...fragile.
Caleb braced his chin on his palm, taking her hand in his free one. He frowned when he felt absolutely no physical response- it wasn't surprising, but still hit him hard. He wasn't sure what to think at this point. His mind seemed almost blank, probably more vacant than it should have been. Or maybe he just didn't know how to handle this, so his mind was refusing to acknowledge it. He didn't know- he wasn't a psychologist.
The almost complete silence in the room, broken only by the sounds of Caleb's breathing- Lisa's was too quiet to hear anymore, but he could still see her chest rising and falling occasionally- was torture. Caleb closed his eyes again, letting his fingers slide to her wrist to check her pulse.
"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked, knowing full well he wasn't going to get a response. "Martyrdom is a fucking cliché, remember?" But even as he asked, he knew his blame was misplaced. He should have paid better attention to her.
But the sad reality was that if they were going to save Lisa's life, they would have had to start working on her almost immediately- stabilizing, finding those ends- and Jackson also had needed attention. It would have been one or the other from the start, and if Caleb had been conscious of Lisa's condition...would he have chosen her? He didn't even want to think about it. Or about how he should never have let her help Jackson out of that room- but that was irrelevant anyway, because it all came down to the fact that he had missed everything. And when he had first inspected her wound, back in the suite, all he could think about was the job. He should have been able to diagnose her right then and there. He had fucking failed her.
Caleb lifted his head and ran his hand through his hair, tugging sharply on the strands. He couldn't rationalize it. It just wouldn't work this time. The simple fact of the matter was that regardless of Lisa's decisions, her blood was on all of their hands- hers, his, Ben's, and Jackson's. This wasn't something they were going to be able to recover from quickly by any means- if at all- and as Caleb realized that he didn't feel her pulse anymore, he knew that they didn't deserve to.