Alright, a few things:
1. I did not intend to go back on the end of last chapter, but to be quite honest, I couldn't even figure out where to begin with Jackson finding out and dealing with things. So I did research, and everything that's about to happen to Lisa is medically sound, as far as I can tell.
2. This is obviously not the last chapter. I got over my apathy and was hit with a ton of new ideas, so I can either end the story soon or I can keep it going into another sequel, if readers are interested. Let me know.
3. This chapter is completely un-betaed and there's a lot about it I don't like. So I'm sorry that it gets kind of weird in places, but I decided to just post it and move on.
4. The major OCs are going to be separated from JxL after this chapter. I plan on following both groups , but if people really aren't interested in hearing about Caleb, Ben, Jamie, and Nik, I could skip it. Just keep in mind that JxL are a little bedridden and drugged up, so if I just focus on them, it might drag a bit.
5. I will do my best to stop having two months between chapters, and since I couldn't send previews (because spoilers), I have a side story mostly written for the chapter 36 reviewers.
REVIEWERS:
AgentBadass- There will be more JxL to come! Love the profile pic, by the way.
Perhaps-A-Star- And I hope this lives up to your best hopes. :)
KnoKnayme- :D
Eva- Lisa's definitely going to have lasting damage, and you're right. I could write Caleb and Ben dealing with it, but Jackson? I just had nothing.
BW4eva- Hope you like the new one.
MademoiselleGF- I'm so sorry for being a tease! I tried, and I was actually in agreement with you that it would be a better route.
Megan S Lox- I don't think he would have. I was thinking about it for those first few weeks, and the only response I could come up with is that he would have just shut down completely, refusing to think about pretty much anything.
Pirate Gyrl- I'm planning an actual sweet ending for this- maybe I've turned into a sap. I know how this one will end, but it's less known whether I'll write a sequel for it.
Jesscah- Oh, I've missed you! Thank you so much for the support!
Master of Evil Monkeyness- Well, I hope you'll still enjoy it even though it's ending differently now.
NoorLux- Thanks so much!
Chapter 37: Lazarus
"Get him ready for a transfusion." Caleb's dropped Lisa's hand, snapping his attention to Thomas as he stormed into the room with a large box, Ben lagging at his heels with assistance from Nikita. "We'll need it rapid."
Caleb rose to his feet, automatically rushing back to the office. He began hastily pulling the necessary supplies from the box, and it was then that it really hit him that they weren't with Jackson. He walked back out into the hallway in time to meet with the others. Thomas had Lisa in his arms, and Ben was leaning on Nikita again. "She's already-" he tried to explain, following them, but Ben cut him off.
"I outrank you both," he snapped, sitting on the table in between Jackson's bed and a new one that they must have brought in. Thomas carefully lay Lisa down again, pulling off her shirt and bra, tossing both aside. "And I say we're going to at least try- unlike you nihilists, I promised her she'd be fine, and you're not going to make a liar out of me." He motioned over to the other doctor. "Plus, he says Jackson's stable enough to wait and he thinks we can pull it off," he continued, holding out his arm. "Now take my fucking blood."
"She's dead," Caleb insisted, hating the words but feeling the need to say them all the same. "No pulse." Thomas shook his head calmly, bent over Lisa.
"I think it's there," he argued. "Probably low bp- it won't hurt to try." Caleb sighed heavily, but still hurried over to Ben, beginning to set up the equipment. Unlike Jackson, it was in his nature to follow, and both Ben and Thomas outranked him- Ben in the agency, Thomas as a doctor. Thomas turned to Jeff, who still sat by Jackson. "Go to the storage and get all the ice packs from the chest," he ordered, turning back to Lisa again as Jeff hurried out of the room.
"Unless we waste the blood," Caleb pointed out unsteadily, forcing himself not to look at his brother. Even as he argued, there was a small, stupid hope growing in his chest. He had overlooked Lisa's injury in the first place- it was completely plausible that he had overlooked a treatment as well. Plus, Thomas had been an army doctor before joining the agency, so Caleb knew his skills in both high-pressure operations and "quick fixes" were far superior, not to mention his actual medical skills.
"Then we'll give William yours," Thomas replied, referring to Jackson, either pretending or actually not noticing that Ben had already revealed his name. "If worse comes to worse, I'll operate myself. He's stable for now, though." Caleb nodded, dutifully following Thomas' lead and pulling the bed away from the wall for better access. Jeff returned with an armful of ice packs, and Thomas motioned toward Lisa. "Put them under her," he ordered, nodding at Nikita to help out. Caleb nodded again, embarrassed. It hadn't even occurred to him to induce hypothermia- it would slow her circulation even more, and while there were definitely risks associated with the sudden temperature drop, at least she wouldn't be losing blood so quickly.
Thomas looked down at Lisa, frowning before turning to Caleb. "You open- I'm going to try something...different with the transfusion. Just clamp the ends for now." Caleb nodded obediently, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, but he still had his doubts. Fantastic- experimentation.
He picked up a scalpel, sliding it across Lisa's inner arm with ease, barely even noticing the tissue spreading open like slicing butter. This was easy- with someone else giving the orders, he felt somehow more confident that he knew what he was doing. He was actually more curious about this 'different' technique Thomas was referring to, but he couldn't afford to look. He did instinctively pause to observe Lisa's reaction to the initial transfusion, but then decided that if she didn't react well, there was nothing they could do at this point, so he continued.
"I need you," he said to Nikita, catching the woman's attention. "Put on some gloves." Upon doing so, the redhead approached Caleb, nodding expectantly. "Grab two of those," he continued, motioning to the retractors, "and hold back the...edges of the incision." It was frustrating to have to give vague instructions, but thankfully, she seemed to understand exactly what he meant, retracting Lisa's skin and muscle to give Caleb a better view. She was already more useful than Jeff, who always seemed ready to faint at the sight of blood. But he did try- Caleb had to give him that.
Thankfully, didn't take too long to find one end of Lisa's artery, and as Caleb reached for a vascular clamp, he heard Ben snicker. And somehow, he knew it was meant for him.
"Chew me out later," Caleb snapped without looking up, shifting aside so Thomas could tend to the other end of the artery. Apparently it was time for Ben's version of hysterics- insults.
"I will," Ben replied, leaning upright against the wall. He should probably have been lying down, but they had to keep him elevated higher than Lisa for the transfusion to work. "And you'll take it, because it's nothing compared to what Ja- your brother- would do to you if he knew."
Thomas looked over at Jeff again, seemingly ignoring the discussion between Caleb and Ben. "Now go back to the storage and grab the box of syringes," he ordered, and then glanced over at Caleb. "We're going to take extra from Alex and inject it into her." Caleb cringed, taking off his gloves and stepping back from Lisa. Unfiltered whole blood? But he only nodded obediently and turned toward Ben, who dutifully held out his other arm.
"Not now," Caleb hissed at Ben as he grabbed his arm and held it in place, unable to ignore the other man's previous cheap shot. He knew it his statement could be misinterpreted as referring to the syringe transfusion, but Ben understood.
"Alright- we'll talk about it later," he agreed, handing the stethoscope over to Jeff as he came back in. Jeff set the syringes on Ben's lap and moved to the other side of the bed, focusing on monitoring Lisa's heart rate. Caleb nodded. He was still angry, but he knew Ben didn't mean any harm. It was just how he dealt with his own fear and stress- lashing out. It wasn't the first time he had found himself the target, and wouldn't be the last.
Burying his objection to the idea of injecting the raw blood into Lisa, Caleb instead focused his attention on the task at hand, quickly drawing Ben's blood and injecting it into Lisa's arm, tossing each syringe aside as he used it. The continuous, repetitive action didn't do much to distract him from his thoughts.
He knew he had fucked up yet again- hell, she was still bleeding, which meant that her heart was pumping. And he had assumed it was just the internal bleeding leaking out. And of course he hadn't been able to detect her pulse. Thomas had called it- her pressure had dropped lower than a physically detectable level. He just wasn't used to working without a monitor- no detectable pulse meant death, to him. And he would deal with his mistakes- just not when he was supposed to be focused on the operation.
Curious as to what Thomas' experimentation actually was, apart from the syringe transfusion, Caleb followed the tube in Ben's arm with his eyes, following it until it disappeared under Lisa. Oh. Thomas had placed the bag under her body, which would increase the pressure of the transfusion. That was actually kind of genius- although he could only hope the blood wasn't too close to the ice packs.
"That should be good," Thomas said, interrupting his musings. Caleb nodded, setting the box back on the floor before standing upright again, turning his attention to Lisa again. She still looked too pale, but it could be from the lowered body temperature. "Alright..." Thomas continued, pulling off his gloves. "We'll leave her open for now- we can sew her up when the circulation is better." He looked over at Caleb. "You get her warmed back up," he ordered, and motioned to Nikita, "and she and I will start your brother."
Caleb nodded, pulling out the ice packs. He could see that there were other broken vessels in her arm, but once they repaired the axillary, those leaks were secondary- they would heal eventually, leaving a nasty bruise and a whole world of pain for Lisa, but they wouldn't kill her. And the remaining arteries should give enough blood flow to her hand, so amputation likely wasn't an issue. Things were looking very much up. There was obvious nerve and muscle damage- only time would tell how it would impact her in the future- but he felt more confident now that she would live.
"Are you sure you can operate on him without me?" he asked softly, trying to resist the urge to label himself completely useless.
"Piece of cake, resident," Thomas teased, pulling off his gloves and wrapping Lisa's arm in a bandage around the clamps to hold it closed for the time being. "For what it's worth," he continued softly, closing up a small tear where blood was starting to slowly flow again, "You didn't make a bad call. We happened to pull this one off...we could have just as easily not, and then we would have been putting your brother at risk for failed grandeur. But it worked, so now we can guilt you." He nodded toward Ben. "Don't listen to that jackass."
Caleb nodded slowly. The only thing that was worth anything at that very moment was that Lisa was still alive. That was the important thing. He could hate himself for giving up later, and worry about the further consequences of her injury, but for now...he was just relieved.
Ben rolled onto his side, burying his face in the pillow as he registered the bright light of the room from behind his eyelids. He refused to believe that he had passed out. It was more like an involuntary nap. Not that anyone was accusing him of doing so, but he was preempting their ideas.
Fine- he had passed out. So what? It was worth it, even if his limbs felt like they weighed a ton each, his head pounded, and his stomach was still slightly churning. Lisa had gotten the blood she needed, and-
Well, he actually didn't know how the rest of the morning had turned out, come to think of it. He lifted his head wearily, his gaze falling on Lisa, who lay next to him in the bed. She was covered almost head to toe in a heavy blanket, but a quick glance told him that she was breathing. He frowned slightly, remembering when Lisa's heart had actually stopped breathing and Caleb had performed CPR on her while trying warm her up again.
That had sucked. But it seemed she was alright now, so whatever. No, not whatever, but...whatever. He glanced up at Jeff, who was still monitoring her with that stethoscope. This kind of amateur shit had to be killing Caleb, but Ben found it oddly fitting. The entire week had been nothing but half-assed plans and hoping for the best, and it seemed to have worked for them so far, even if he was fairly sure each individual had aged a handful of years in those few hours, let alone the last couple of days.
With a groan of effort, Ben rolled onto his other side. His vision was still too bleary to really see Jackson in the next bed, but that didn't really matter. He saw Caleb sitting on the floor between the two beds, leaning against the nightstand, and the man didn't look completely devastated or in any kind of shock- just tired. And if Caleb was acknowledging his own exhaustion, it was safe to assume that Jackson had lived too. They were kinda fucking awesome.
Ben released a sigh of relief he had held back for hours, maybe even while he was out. He could admit now- to himself- that he hadn't been nearly as confident as he had acted. But he knew Caleb. A few things had changed, but one was still going strong- the man needed to be led. He needed to see confidence, and if Ben had shown any of his own hesitation, Caleb would have picked up on it. Thankfully, Thomas had known what he was doing too, so they had been able to pull it off.
He noted with amusement and a bit of irritation that Caleb hadn't even noticed that he was awake. The man was engaged in conversation with Nikita, who was monitoring Jackson. But jealousy had never suited Ben very well, and he abruptly pushed it aside, leaving only curiosity.
"What time is it?" he asked, catching Caleb and Nikita's attention.
"About nine," Caleb replied, checking his watch. He leaned toward Nikita and said something to her that was too soft for Ben to hear, and she quickly left the room. Caleb lifted himself onto his knees, moving closer to Ben. "How are you feeling?"
"Hungover," Ben replied with a shrug. He didn't think he liked Doctor Rippner all that much. Or maybe he just didn't like follow up questions. He was nauseous and his body was tired, but time would fix it just fine- there was no point bringing it up. "Looks like you made a new friend, though," he pointed out, referring to how closely Caleb and Nikita had been sitting.
He shook his head when Caleb gave him a confused look, laughing weakly. "Never mind," he said, dismissing it. It was none of his business who Caleb flirted with. "How did it go with Jack?"
Caleb glanced back at his brother, and then turned back to Ben, his face almost blank. "Fine, I guess," he relayed, his business-like exterior fading with each word. "We removed a rib, but other than that, just stitches. His other wounds are pretty infected, though...he'll have to stay in bed for a while." He half-rolled his eyes. "Well, he should- we'll see if he actually does, though." Ben just nodded.
"He's going to love that," he observed, furrowing his brow. He was tempted to ask which one, just in case he ever really needed to know Jackson's weak spot, but figured he was better off not knowing. He'd probably just screw with him if he knew. "What about Marie?" It was obvious Jackson wasn't going to be on his feet to participate, not if they wanted to get the jump on her. He narrowed his eyes further at the guilty expression that had suddenly formed on Caleb's face, at his averted gaze. What did he do?
Before Caleb could respond, Nikita came back in the room, handing Ben a glass of orange juice. Ben rolled his eyes, sitting up. Medical bullshit was such an annoyance to him sometimes. He had no problem with medicine itself, and he was beyond grateful and in awe of what Caleb and Thomas had accomplished, but a quick glance at the bandage had told him that his leg was stitched up now, and he didn't have to be a patient, for Christ's sake. But he thanked her all the same, drinking more of the juice than he had intended- it was unusually delicious. Could have used some vodka, though.
Ben turned his attention back to Caleb, who was obviously itching to tell him something, but just as obviously wasn't going to do it in company. So he set the glass on the nightstand, gesturing toward the door with his head. Caleb nodded, getting to his feet. He placed a hand on Ben's chest as he tried to get out of bed, pushing him back down before bending down and grabbing a pair of crutches.
Oh for the love of...Ben lifted his head to stare at Caleb, knowing by the defiance in the other man's eyes that his own disdain was coming through loud and clear. Couldn't he just gimp it? Unfortunately, Caleb's silent insistence was louder, and Ben reluctantly accepted the crutches. He was obviously on the sidelines for Marie, as well. As Caleb would say- fantastic.
"So what do you have me on?" Ben asked after the two men left the room, hobbling unsteadily on his crutches. He felt ridiculously uncoordinated, and a strange urge to sing "If I Only Had a Brain". Whatever it was had to be pretty decent, which meant it was probably illegal- he hardly felt anything in his leg. Or would it technically be legal since a doctor had given it? But Caleb wasn't a licensed doctor, so- fuck off. Not important. And he was scolding his own brain. It had to be good shit.
"Morphine," Caleb replied shortly, shoving his hands in his pants pockets as he walked, swaying slightly as he intentionally walked slower for Ben's sake. He kept his head bowed, as though Ben were already chastising him, continuing their promised conversation from earlier.
But Ben had never been that angry with him. He had mostly used it as an excuse to push Caleb harder, make him more determined, and the rest was a result of his own fear. Not that he could tell him that. So he had to keep up the act, clenching his jaw in apparent silent disapproval. It wasn't that hard, actually- he was irritated that both Rippners had seemed to forget what a team was for. Or in taking on Jackson's role as their leader, Caleb had received his latest insistence for doing everything himself. Whatever the reason, that mindset was the real threat, not the mistakes.
Leading definitely didn't suit Caleb, and so Ben had felt the need to step in and take control himself. It wasn't a role that he enjoyed, playing Jackson, but it was necessary, so he did it. And he would keep doing it until Jackson himself was awake and ready to work again.
"Fill me in," he said quietly as the two settled into chairs on Thomas' porch, wishing that they had their cigarettes. He tapped his fingers absently on the arm of the chair, lighting up with pure joy when Caleb tossed a pack onto his lap. Jeff. "Oh, he's beautiful," Ben commented, simultaneously lighting two cigarettes with the lighter that quickly followed the pack and passing one to Caleb. "I don't suppose he brought us steak too, did he?"
"I can make you something if you're hungry," Caleb offered with a faint laugh. Ben shook his head, taking a drag.
"I'll starve, thank you," he retorted, grinning as he momentarily stepped out of character. "But I'll take you up on it when I'm in the mood for watery instant mac and cheese." He tossed the pack and lighter back to Caleb, who scoffed.
"I've gotten better," he insisted softly. "I added peas." Disgusting.
"We'll see," Ben replied, still smiling. He missed this. But it wasn't exactly the time for nostalgia and light conversation, and so he quickly sobered. "So...?"
"Well," Caleb began, staring out into the street, "from what Jeff told me, The Pointe is a madhouse right now. I already sent him to get the tape from the doors and retrieve some of the luggage in case they do room searches or something." Ben nodded- having Jeff walk through the hotel with a bag of weapons seemed fairly risky to him, but Caleb was right- it was better than the alternative. "I have no idea if Spencer's there or not."
"Yeah," Ben replied casually, stretching out. His body was so stiff. "I was really asking what you did." He turned to Caleb, daring him to play dumb. But Caleb was better than that, and merely swallowed hard, looking nervous.
"She called," he explained. "And I didn't know what else to do, so when she said she wanted Jackson and Jamie at her place tomorrow...I agreed."
Ben exhaled audibly, dropping his head back onto the chair. Again, Caleb had done the right thing- it would have looked too suspicious to refuse- but it was yet another unstable plan, to say the least.
"We're going to have to wake up Jackson, aren't we?" Caleb asked nervously, gripping the back of his neck. "Don't we need his approval?"
No. "Yeah," Ben replied, lying through his teeth. Generally, this kind of thing just shouldn't be done without his go ahead, which suddenly occurred to Ben was ironic. The agency was supposed to bypass the red tape and formality, but they definitely had a process of their own.
A job would normally require a director's approval, which they couldn't get for obvious reasons. Manager would be the next best, and if that wasn't an option, a lead could confirm it. But this was too big a job for that- they needed Jackson, plain and simple. Or at least, Ben had to pretend that they needed his approval to keep up appearances. The approval was already there, but he was the only one who knew that for the moment. Really, they just needed the codes, and he was fairly sure Jackson was the only one among them who knew what they were.
"Jamie's already on her way- she sent the rest back to New York," Caleb was continuing. "She'll be there tomorrow afternoon. And Matthieu will be waiting at the airport."
"Oh," Ben replied, his voice rising somewhat in false surprise. "So she wants to kill you both before you even get to the ranch. Creative, if not a bit chickenshit." Ben had been there a few times with Robert, and he knew damn well that they were never met at the airport, especially not by Marie's brother.
It was interesting that she was having Jamie come along, but maybe it was as simple as keeping up appearances herself, although Ben wasn't sure why she was bothering, since she had broken protocol already. And she had to know that Jackson would know exactly what Matthieu's presence meant, or maybe she thought she was too clever and above suspicion. Leads almost always traveled with the manager for debriefings after a job. It was rather cold to mark Jamie simply for being Jackson's second, but no one would accuse Marie of being compassionate. Christ, that woman was twisted. It had usually served their purpose just fine, but now that her wrath was turned on them, it more than sucked.
"I guess," Caleb replied impatiently, gesturing in agitation with his free hand. "We can handle it, whatever- stop acting like him and say what- wait," He cut off his own rambling, narrowing his eyes. "Were you pissed that I was talking to Nikita?" Ben attempted a reply, but all that came out were a few unrelated words- Caleb had hit him with at least three, maybe four, different issues in complete rapid-fire, leaving him somewhat blindsided and trying to address all at once. "She kind of saved their lives, in case you didn't notice. I wasn't going to be rude."
"Good for her," Ben replied, implying that he couldn't care less anymore. Yes, Caleb's familiarity with her had bothered him in the first few seconds of morphine haze, but he had gotten over it and there wasn't any point in talking about it anymore- if there ever was. "I wouldn't give her that much credit, though- she couldn't really have done much without you and Thomas, you know."
Ben didn't mean to sound so short, or so dismissive of Nikita- he knew Caleb would misinterpret the situation completely. He didn't dislike her in the slightest, but when he had thought Caleb was actually hitting on her, he had assumed the man was continuing his weird habit of going for the women that weren't good enough for him. But it had been the fog of drugs and blood loss- of course Caleb hadn't been hitting on her. The idea of him flirting with another woman at a time like this was so asinine that he was more embarrassed than anything else, and he'd rather they just dropped it.
"And I wouldn't give myself much credit," Caleb shot back, and Ben took another drag, frustrated. Lashing out at Caleb had seemed appropriate at the time, but now that it was over, he had absolutely no desire to feed into yet another guilt trip. The man needed a fucking passport to travel around that vast self-loathing.
"You're right," he replied, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Any one of us could have cut her open, found the artery, and- I'm assuming- sutured her up. And I'm sure Jeff was super helpful at taking out that rib. Not to mention Jack injecting himself with-"
"I almost killed her," Caleb snapped, interrupting Ben's rant. Ben shrugged, dismissing him. He had already known Caleb's response before the words left his mouth, and he was ready.
"So did I," he replied, ignoring Caleb's unimpressed scoff. "I saw how much blood she had lost, but I thought the IV would do the trick until she could get help. You took a look and knew what was wrong, and if I had spoken up earlier..." He trailed off, giving Caleb a pointed look. It was the truth. Ben had been wrong, and Caleb would have known better right away. He didn't believe for a second that Caleb would have simply ignored Lisa's injury if he knew the extent of it just because Jackson needed help, too.
"But you don't have medical training, so that's-"
"And you don't have field experience, so you had no reason to think about blood pressure dropping lower than a detectable level, am I right? You're used to monitors and shit, and you're used to being told what to do, right? Or do...what year are you...?"
"First," Caleb replied absently after a pause. He didn't even seem to be listening to Ben, but the taller man knew he was.
"First year residents operate alone?" Ben sighed, taking a deep drag of his cigarette. He suddenly wished he had brought that juice with him. Between his exhaustion, the cigarette, and all the talking, his throat was irritatingly dry. "You can't keep kicking your own ass about this shit," he continued, his previously combative tone dissolving into something more compassionate. "That's what the rest of us are here for, remember? We had your back. And still have it."
Caleb dropped his face into his palm, practically deflating as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked like his brother, and Ben knew that he had 'won'. It was very similar to Jackson's 'fuck you for being right' gesture. The only thing that was missing was the 'fuck you' part- the narrowed-eye sidelong glance.
Caleb got the point, and there was no reason to prolong the conversation and make him feel the need to apologize or completely beat his own message to death. "We look like a pair of murderous hobos," Ben noted in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. And they did. Both were shirtless- Caleb's bare skin smeared in various places with dried blood that he might want to consider attempting to wash off, and he looked completely beaten into the ground with exhaustion, not to mention the faint bruising on his face from his encounter with Robert. Ben didn't look much better, he knew, and he was fairly sure that jeans with one long leg, one torn off at the knee wasn't going to be the next fashion statement.
Unfortunately, Ben's pathetic attempt didn't work, and he found himself resting his jaw in his free hand, slowing inhaling the smoke. They had gotten lucky once- hell, 'lucky' was putting it extremely mildly. What were the odds it would happen again? He knew he could very well be sending Caleb and Jamie to their deaths, but there really wasn't another option that he could see. They couldn't run- even though they could likely hide safely until they could regroup, what possible good would it do? It would only make it infinitely harder to get into Marie's fortress. They had the smallest of windows, and with it, a slim fucking chance.
Ben suddenly wished Jackson could magically regenerate. Not because he would be of any help or have a better idea, but because frankly, the guilt and concern was his problem, and Ben was more than ready to hand the reins of responsibility right back over to him.
He shook his head roughly, as though that would somehow shake the doubts from his head, but all it did was make him somewhat dizzy. There was no point in worrying- this was the best opportunity they would have, and it wasn't like Marie had an army. "We'll need to send Jeff, too," he thought out loud, the idea suddenly occurring to him. Caleb or Jamie would definitely have to kill Matthieu before they got to the ranch, and Marie would be more than a bit tipped off that something was wrong if she saw that they were missing someone significant. "I'll talk to him."
Convincing Jeff to go along probably wouldn't be easy, unless the man had just given up all efforts of being removed. It wasn't that Jeff was a coward- he just...wasn't on their level. He didn't kill, and generally didn't put himself out on the line like they did. It wasn't his place.- he didn't have an alias, didn't really know how to fire a gun, or anything like that. But really, all he had to do was park the damn car while Caleb and Jamie were going into the ranch. Obviously, Marie couldn't see him, but they had to make her think it was still Matthieu and he had just failed his assignment.
He looked over to see Caleb nodding, and was grateful that at least the man didn't bother looking nervous or worried. Caleb was in his best place- he was following orders and it wasn't his responsibility to worry about the ifs just yet. Lucky bastard.
"Jackson should be awake in an hour or so," the shorter man explained, getting to his feet. "Don't know how coherent he'll be, but we have time." Ben nodded and looked up at Caleb. He instinctively grabbed the man's hand, frowning. He just wasn't fucking used to this role, being the one responsible for sending another into danger.
But he just as quickly remembered that he couldn't show Caleb the hesitation. Caleb needed orders, not indecision. So Ben's frown quickly morphed into a grin. "Take a shower," he said, winking at the amusement in those wide blue eyes. "You look like shit." As the words left his mouth, it occurred to him just how many times someone had taken charge of the man in the past few days. 'Take a shower', 'get some sleep', Jackson watching over him when he had passed out, Ben ordering him breakfast, and those were just off the top of his head. Just another thing about Caleb that hadn't changed- Jackson was wrong- he was the baby of their trio.
Caleb scoffed. "And you're a beauty queen," he replied, pulling from Ben's grip to dig in his pants pocket. "Here," he said, tossing Ben's phone and the pack back into his lap. "You've been popular this morning."
Ben cringed as he traced the edge of his phone with this finger. He glanced up at Caleb again, trying to read in the man's eyes whether or not he had opened the phone or answered it. He had obviously been answering Jackson's phone, so there was a chance that he had done so for Ben's as well. But Caleb showed no traces of the accusation or suspicion that would have come from peeping.
Ben nodded. "I'm popular every morning," he quipped, taking another drag. "Even more at night, though." Caleb just shook his head, walking back in the house after throwing back an irritating reminder to use the crutches.
Ben chuckled dryly as the other man disappeared, using the embers of his cigarette to light a new one. With another glance behind him to make sure he was alone, he finally opened his phone. 15 missed calls, and probably a nasty message to accompany each. At least, probably one for each of the 12 missed calls from Spencer.
Ben worked his cigarette as he listened to the increasing frustration in each voicemail. Yes, he had been avoiding her for days now. He wasn't even supposed to be talking to her in the first place. And in an hour, if Caleb was correct, he was finally going to have to come clean and face the wrath his double dealing wrought.
"Do you swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
Jackson glanced up at the man...Mr...Kinkaid?, who was towering over him, and his heart caught in his chest as he realized that the lawyer's eyes were black. Not just his irises...the entirety of his eyes. He blinked slowly, and opened his mouth to respond in the affirmative, even though he knew it was a lie. He was beyond help from any God- they all were.
But nothing came out. Well, not words anyway. He cringed at the inhuman slur of syllables that flowed from his mouth, and tried to speak again. Nothing. Just that same chilling moan. He locked eyes with Caleb, who sat in the stands behind their mother. He heard the panic screaming in the younger man's eyes- do something.
Jackson gripped his own knees, wanting so badly to soothe his brother. He had to make it right. But as he looked up to tell Kinkaid that no, every answer he was going to give was going to be complete bullshit and that Cathy was innocent, he saw the man already nodding.
"No further questions," the lawyer told the judge, a smug smile on his face, and Jackson whipped back to face his mother as the blackened creatures that had suddenly appeared dragged her out of the courtroom. The woman didn't even look back at her sons, her posture as confident as Jackson had remembered. But...no! She wasn't the damn killer.
Jackson tried to stand, but he was immobile in his chair. He called out to confess, but he only heard that disgusting whirl of dead moans.
"Jackson?" He snapped his head over to see Caleb sitting in the car next to him, and quickly realized that the courtroom, the demons, all of it- gone. They were back in the dimly lit parking lot of Phoenix Fixtures, back in Roberts, in the car they were too young to be driving, smoking the cigarettes they were too young to be consuming, and hiding in a way they were too old to do. He frowned. James wasn't dead, Cathy wasn't in prison. But he was still useless.
Jackson just shook his head again, letting his gaze shift to the radio. They couldn't go home. If James wasn't dead, Cathy wasn't safe. But there was nothing either of them could do to help her, and so they hid in the dark parking lot, drinking.
"You can see their shadows wandering off somewhere
They won't make it home but they really don't care
They wanted the highway
They're happier there today."
He took a drag of his cigarette, and looked back at his brother. He heard the words, the words he had said that night in 1998, but his mouth didn't move.
"We'll just go. If either of us say the word...we're gone. No matter what." And they would. It had seemed like such a soothing idea at the time. If it ever got too difficult, if one of them couldn't handle it anymore, they would leave. It didn't matter where- the destination was completely irrelevant. But they would be together.
He waited silently for Caleb to nod as he had back then, but the other man only smiled, his eyes black. "You're pathetic," his brother replied, but it wasn't his voice. It was soft, feminine, angry- it was Lisa. Jackson inhaled sharply at the sting of those words, but Caleb wasn't finished. The smile curled into a more taunting grin as his brother leaned over, his lips grazing Jackson's ear. "I'm not sorry," he whispered sweetly. "I want more than this."
Jackson gasped for air, feeling a crushing weight pressing down on his chest as Caleb swiftly exited the car. He couldn't stop him. He couldn't fucking breathe.
"It's okay," Ben murmured, leaning forward from his place in the back seat and placing a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "You still have us."
Jackson coughed, inhaling deeply as the oxygen rushed to his lungs. But he just as quickly gagged, dropping his head forward. The air was tainted, rotten. He didn't want it. Get the fuck out, he wanted to scream at the man, trying to hold his breath against the disgusting onslaught. How could Ben not notice it?
He turned to yell out at the unmoving man, but no one was there.
He jolted forward again as the screams and cries tore through his senses, the rotten air now laced with smoke. His eyes fixed on those burning buildings, and he became sickeningly aware of Caleb's fingers digging into his forearm. It wasn't right. It would never be right again. All those people...
Jackson wanted to avert his eyes. He wanted to cry, but there was no point. He couldn't put life in reverse, couldn't safely land those planes full of innocent people back at the airport. He could only watch, and silently resolve that he could never sit back and let it happen again. There would never be a morning like the one that had greeted the twins in their first few weeks in New York.
The crush of noises spun around him, but the voices became more subdued, more...cheerful. The screams of the sirens turned to music. The songs overlapped, weaving in and out of each other into a medley of his past, from Fastball to Johnny Cash, from Depeche Mode to Marilyn Manson and O.D.B.
Jackson took a small sip of his whiskey and walked toward the lit doorway. It was quite the party- hundreds of people mingled, talking and laughing with each other. His mother, his father, Caleb, Cheryl, Ben, Jamie, Rick, his uncle, Mitch, their fourth roommate at NYU, Sylvie, the Bed-Stuy drug dealer and bird enthusiast, and countless others. Even if he didn't remember their names, he knew every face. The people he had wronged, the people he hadn't done a damn thing to, and everyone in between. His entire life, except for one person.
Jackson shook his head and turned around, walking further into the dark room in which he had been standing. It wasn't his scene. He dropped onto the familiar couch, which still smelled faintly of beer from when he had thrown that bottle. He groaned when he felt the jostling of someone falling on the cushion next to him. Couldn't he just be left alone?
"Aren't you coming?" Lisa asked, and Jackson turned his head on the couch back, facing her. He shook his head- he preferred it in there, and honestly, it was better that way. He wasn't much of a joiner.
"It's alright," she insisted, as though she heard his thoughts. "It's the past...it's over." She leaned forward, pressing a firm kiss to Jackson's lips as she tugged his arm, pulling him to his feet and back in the direction of the frenzy. "You're a good person- we'll be fine, remember?"
"We'll be fine."
"I just feel bad for him." Jackson furrowed his eyebrows, squeezing his eyes closed even tighter. Why the hell was Ben in his room? Through the fog, he could still hear faint, feminine whispers, but he couldn't understand them. His emotions churned, melding together into an unidentifiable mass. Must have been one hell of a dream. And one hell of a night.
"Why?" Oh...Ben was bothering Caleb. They could at least have the decency to go out in the living room. Leave him to suffer in peace, for Christ's sake. How much had he drank?
"Because he has to stand there and act like he feels all sorry for the asshole and how 'we won't rest until we find those responsible.'" Jackson frowned, his confusion growing again. When had Ben learned that Obama impression? No...more importantly...Jesus.
Jackson tried to groan at his own stupidity, but it only came out as a rush of silent air. They weren't in Jackson and Caleb's room because it was goddamn 2010 and some other poor bastards currently inhabited that shitbox. Keefe. Ben was talking about Keefe. The job. Leese.
Jackson slowly opened his eyes, but shut them just as soon as the slivers of bright light pierced him.
"-know he just wants to say 'listen, cracker bitches- let me just say, the man was a terrorist. You're welcome.'" Jackson rolled his eyes behind his lids. He highly doubted Obama would ever call anyone- Christ, he hurt all over. He turned his head away from where he thought the window was, struggling to open his eyes again.
"Cal-" he cracked out, trying to get his brother's attention, and he opened his mouth in a silent cry of pain as his voice caught in his throat and provoked a sharp cough. Were the drugs not working or what? Lisa. Is Lisa alright?
Jackson turned his head back around, trying to focus his vision as a familiar figure approached him. "Where is she?"
Caleb knelt in front of him, and even behind his hazy vision, Jackson could see that despite the obvious concern in his eyes, the man didn't move to inject him with anything. It suddenly occurred to him that he had been deliberately weaned off whatever drugs he had been on.
Caleb motioned behind him with his head, and Jackson could barely make out the figure laying in the nearby bed. "She's still out," his brother explained carefully- too carefully. "She's fine though." Jackson narrowed his eyes. He could practically hear another story coming from Caleb, as though the world had a overlaying dub track.
Caleb sighed heavily. "She's fine now," he insisted, obviously realizing that Jackson wasn't stupid. "She's just going to be tired for a while. And drugged up."
Jackson turned his head and squinted, trying to see Lisa, but he couldn't really make out any details. He wanted to get closer, to see for himself that she was indeed 'fine'. But Caleb already had a hand on his shoulder, holding him still. "Just let her rest," he implored. "You can't get up yet anyway."
Jackson nodded in reluctant surrender. He was very good at waiting, actually, and knowing she was there was enough for the moment. His gaze traveling to Ben, who sat on the edge of Lisa's bed, staring at him. Something was obviously on his mind too, but Jackson couldn't read it. He had never been as good at figuring Ben out.
"Why am I awake?" he finally asked in irritation, his voice still scratching his throat. There had to be a reason. The throbbing in his chest told him quite screamingly that it was too soon for him to be off the painkillers. That could only mean- "What happened?"
"Jamie and I are meeting Marie tomorrow," Caleb explained, sitting down carefully on the edge of Jackson's bed. "She wants to see you, and-" Jackson just nodded again, cutting off the younger man. He didn't need it spelled out for him.
"No," he replied firmly, closing his eyes against the pain. Mind over fucking matter...suck it up.
Caleb's eyes flashed with exasperation. "I have to go," he snapped, "It's the best-"
"I-" Jackson exhaled, trying to find the words, and winced again. "I know why," he insisted, and eyed Ben as the taller man came hobbling over. He grimaced in distaste as Ben gently lifted his head, helping him drink a glass of orange juice. It was practically liquid Nirvana, but at the same time...he felt like a damn invalid. And he definitely wanted something stronger.
"We can't just...kill her..." Jackson tried to explain, each word an effort. It was beyond frustrating- one of the few times he had paragraphs to say and of course it was when speaking was an excruciating chore. "We'll be...no better than Robert."
Jackson knew it was a 180 from his previous position, but he had been thinking about it on and off in those few hours before the attack on Keefe. To kill Marie on their own because they disagreed with her methods did make them no better than Robert. In his opinion, they were more justified of course, but Robert probably thought that he had been perfectly right as well.
That wasn't to say that he didn't think Marie should be killed. But the decision couldn't be made by him. He just flat-out didn't have that authority. "We need-"
"We have it," Ben interrupted him, his voice disarmingly soft. "We have authorization."
The twins both looked at Ben, almost identical expressions of surprise on their faces. The only difference was that Caleb looked more confused and Jackson was already suspicious. Either Ben was talking out of his ass or the man had been talking to people that under normal circumstances, he would never be allowed to.
Ben's face lit up in realization. "I mean, she's sending Matthieu to meet them," he explained too quickly, as though he had just remembered. "That's enough, isn't it?"
Jackson narrowed his eyes, but before he could reply, Ben nodded. "She's already planning to kill you," he confirmed. "So it's self-defense, really." Jackson bit back a sigh, knowing all it would do was cause another stab of pain. He realized with disgust that he wasn't even surprised. After everything he had done for that woman, she would actually mark him over such petty bullshit, and it wasn't a surprise. Maybe it was time to leave the agency- this wasn't the way things were supposed to be happening. Too much conspiring for- wait.
Jackson shot Ben a dark look. What authorization? They had justification, yes, but not authorization. Ben had obviously been talking about something else, and even in a mix of pain and haze, Jackson wasn't distracted that easily.
"Spencer gave me authorization," Ben explained to Jackson, not even needing the manager to demand a name. Jackson closed his eyes tightly, leaning his head back on his pillow. Spencer. The numerous reactions spun around in his head, dancing around the blur. Why the hell was Ben talking to her? Why didn't Jackson know about this? What in God's name could possibly have earned him authorization from the CIA? And for the love of Christ, why Spencer?
Thankfully, Ben still didn't need to hear Jackson vocalize a response. He shifted on his knees, looking uneasy under the piercing stares. "When Marie ignored what I said about the Chechens," he explained, "I looked up Spencer." He grinned absently. "She's surprisingly easy to get aho- I had to know if the CIA knew," he quickly interrupted, noticing that Jackson wasn't at all in the mood for his sidetracking.
Knew what? Jackson didn't bother asking- he knew the question was obvious on his face. "We were told we were working with the government," Ben reminded him, "But I knew those guys were about as government as Marquis." Jackson half-rolled his eyes, not even bothering to ask who the hell Marquis was. Probably one of Ben's friends from the streets- not that it mattered.
"I was trying to figure out who was being lied to- all of us or some of us," Ben continued. "And as it turned out...some of us. I mean, Spencer said the CIA already knew the story was bullshit, and they were running their own op, trying to figure out who knew what, you know?"
Jackson shook his head. Ben's rambling was starting to meld together into a stream of muddled words. "Get to the point," he muttered, closing his eyes again.
"Alright- very long story short, Marie knew. The group we were working with rivals the Solntsevskaya Bratva, and they're getting bigger. And they're supplying important guys. I mean, we're talking about the roots of a legit civil war," Ben explained, his voice grave.
"That doesn't make sense," Caleb cut in, and Jackson opened his eyes. "The Chechen mafia has ties with Al-Qaeda, right? Why would they want to stop an American attack, especially one that could result in a war with Russia?"
Ben looked over at Caleb impatiently. "Because they want to decide who's in power at the end of the war," he snapped as though the answer were obvious. "They aren't going to trust Americans to do it." He shrugged, his voice softening again. "And from what I've been told, the agency's importance has been exaggerated. They think they're working with the CIA."
Jackson groaned. It actually made sense. Marie hated Russia. She had her reasons, but of course she would ally with and aid a group that had a legitimate shot at a potential government takeover. Keefe was...nothing. He was just a pawn in a much larger game, a favor given by the Chechens in return for assistance- not that he didn't deserve what he got, but Christ- this new information was a real mess.
"And of course the CIA would prefer things stay the way they are over some kind of takeover by the Chechens," Ben reminded Jackson, even though Jackson should already know. Jackson was actually grateful for the summary, even if he wouldn't admit it. His brain was just not functioning at its normal level. "They know who they're dealing with now between the government and the various mafia gangs, but there's so much that they don't know about this group..." He trailed off, looking at Jackson expectantly.
And then it clicked. "And we're supposed to take out this gang?" he asked miserably, just the idea seeming ridiculously overwhelming. To his dismay, Ben nodded.
"They want us to kill Marie and then you're supposed to take over," he explained, his voice soft again. Jackson closed his eyes yet again. His head was just spinning, his chest throbbing, and he honestly thought he might be sick. Take over. Director. There was no way in Hell he was doing that.
Jackson took a deep breath in an attempt to calm both his anger and his stomach, but it only sent another stab of pain. "Why the fuck am I hearing about this now?" he managed through clenched teeth, gripping the sheet tightly. It was just really hitting him that Ben had learned all this information by going behind everyone's back.
"You fucking lied to us," Caleb pointed out at the same time, his own voice darkened with anger, "And you used me." Jackson looked up at him. He could definitely sympathize. It was obvious that Ben had put the original idea of killing Marie in Caleb's mind, sending him to be the one to convince Jackson. "Did you lie about the hit?"
Ben laughed wryly. "You think Marie would keep me alive when she knew that I knew about the Chechens?" he asked, and then immediately sobered. "I didn't tell you because you aren't in the agency and have no need to know," he added, his voice now steady. He looked down at Jackson. "And I didn't tell you because I thought you wouldn't have believed me. You were so fucking obedient that you needed to see for yourself what she could do- I couldn't risk it. You know I'm right."
Jackson felt a quick urge to refute that, but in all honesty, he wasn't sure what he would have thought if Ben had blindsided him with this information before the hit, before Marie had so flippantly sent them into such a precarious second attempt. In fact, it was starting to occur to him that she had never intended for him to make it out of there alive, because if Ben was telling the truth- which Jackson was sure he was- Marie had to know that Jackson wouldn't have been so willing to go along with a Chechen mafia alliance. She might have been glad to seize the opportunity, much like when she had used Ben's refusal to kill Lisa as a reason to mark him.
It wasn't that Jackson had any love for the Russians- he definitely wasn't fond of those in charge. But he had to agree with the CIA on this one- the challengers in a coup like this were so much more dangerous, because they had something to prove, they were so much less known, and they were attacking an established power- higher stakes meant bigger risks.
"And Spencer wants to talk to you. About Lisa." No she doesn't- she has to. Jackson groaned again, but let Caleb and Ben assume it was a result of his pain. So they had figured out it wasn't Lisa's body in the house. He had known this was a possibility, and he was ready...even if he didn't particularly want it.
Jackson shifted his attention over to his brother, and frowned. The man looked terrible. None of them looked good, but Caleb could do something about it. And he was positive that Caleb hadn't slept since his drinking incident, which was...at least 24 hours prior. "Get some sleep," he mumbled, pressing his head against the pillow. "You're leaving in a few hours."
Caleb tilted his head in confusion, but then nodded. And Jackson found himself grateful yet again that lengthy explanations were unnecessary. Caleb couldn't bring a gun through the airport, and it would definitely be easier to take care of Matthieu if he was armed. They would have to overnight a weapon to a Dallas armory and he could pick it up, and then head back to the airport to meet Jamie and Matthieu.
Of course, Jackson had his ulterior motives for sending Caleb out of the room, but the reason he gave was good enough that neither man seemed suspicious. The truth was that Jackson did not want Caleb to be around when Spencer came. Jackson had learned two years prior that Agent Spencer had used to live under a different name- Cathy Rippner.
He had never sought her out. Finding her had been an accident, really. Back when Marie still lived in New York, Jackson had simply been leaving her condo just as the other woman had been walking through the lobby. He had known Marie was about to meet with Spencer, and he didn't think it was that far of a stretch to assume that Cathy and Spencer were one and the same. He had quickly averted his gaze, and thankfully, the woman seemed just as disinclined for a reunion. She had definitely seen him, but she didn't make any effort to talk to him, either.
Jackson knew that his mother had to have been involved in something before he and Caleb had been born, maybe after as well, just for the simple fact that a felon couldn't merely change her name and join the CIA. After he had really thought about it, it even made sense, consider that her brother had been in the agency. It wasn't that much a leap of faith, really.
But he never asked anyone. He didn't care. She had walked out of them, and he was damned if he was going to make any kind of effort to chase her. And he had never thought that they would actually meet. After all, she was a few steps over him- compared to her, he was fairly low on the chain. Jackson doubted she was any happier with the idea meeting him than he was her. It was just necessary, really.
But that wasn't the point. Jackson was a professional, and he would meet her if he had to, but not Caleb. Maybe if the last few days hadn't happened, but after that confession, the rage, the confusion- Jackson was not about to sit back and let those two come face to face. He would tell him eventually, of course, when things had calmed down and everything...maybe Caleb would want to meet her. But he wasn't going to force him. And hell, she probably didn't want to talk to him.
"Do you want me to put you under again?" Caleb asked, getting to his feet. Jackson shook his head weakly.
"I want to hear the long story," he lied easily, and glanced up at Ben. Realization danced in the man's green eyes, but he quickly played along, his body language shifting into anxiety. Ben shot Caleb a pitiful glance, as though he were asking Caleb to save him from Jackson, but the younger twin just walked out of the room, shaking his head at the silent exchange.
"What's up?" Ben asked, giving up the act and sitting in Caleb's previous spot.
"Have Jeff book the flight and call Spencer," Jackson ordered, feeling his pulse quickening. He didn't want to be dealing with this shit. Ben thought about it, and then nodded.
"Flights," he corrected Jackson. "Jeff's going too- I talked to him." Jackson was silent for a moment, and then caught on. Jeff would take Matthieu's place as the driver. Great, fine, whatever. "And I already got the number of the cleaners."
"Give him some tech, too," Jackson ordered. Marie definitely had valuable information on her hard drives, and they needed someone to extract it.
Ben nodded. "I can do it- you want me to go with them?" Jackson was about to refuse, but then it occurred to him that it was exactly what he wanted, so he only nodded. Having both men gone? Perfect. Ben had accompanied the twins to various prison visits- he was definitely going to recognize their mother when he saw her, and Jackson wanted nothing more than to avoid the surprise, the questions, the concern- and in Ben's case, probably the smart-ass remarks.
"I'll bring Nik, too- get her another couple grand for her efforts." Ben handed Jackson a pad and pen, and the manager quickly scribbled down the codes into Marie's house. He then handed it back off, grimacing.
"Sure. Call Trudi, work it out. Now give me the morphine." Jackson knew it probably wasn't a good idea to be taking drugs that would alter his mind before a meeting like this, but he also knew that the pain building in his chest was bad enough to keep him from being completely coherent anyway. It also had the additional benefit of preventing him from really embracing the idea of coming face to face with his mother for the first time in years. He knew he wasn't as twisted up about it as he should be, but he wanted more. He didn't want to care. "Unless you've got something stronger."
In all honesty, when Jackson had first agreed to help Lisa, he had had ulterior motives. He wanted to throw it back in the government's face, show them that they couldn't use innocent people to cover their own problems. He knew damn well it wasn't just DHS who was pinning the blame on her- the federal investigators- Spencer- must have gone along with it as well to keep the heat off the agency. And that wasn't right.
He knew that Lisa's 'death' had caused a massive problem- the feds couldn't safely pin it on her anymore. Yes, they could publicly claim that Lisa had been behind the attack, but they had to realize that Lisa had participated in it, that she was alive and not willing to roll over. If they did go ahead with blaming her, they couldn't know that someday she wouldn't come public with the truth.
Jackson had always known it was a risk, known that once the feds realized that Lisa wasn't dead, there was a chance that they would also put two and two together and assume the agency was involved. After all, where else would Lisa get the resources to pull off a plan like that? And he was more than ready to stand- or lay as it were- in front of Spencer- or whomever- and firmly tell them that it was not alright to ruin the lives of innocent people just to cover their own ass.
And then...in all likelihood, he was finished with it. He had said it more than once, and he still meant it. If he couldn't trust the people he worked with, if they followed their own agendas and used each other- plotted to kill each other- then it would never work. And this disaster...he felt as though everything was slipping through his fingers. The smallest truths he had known were lies.
But he wasn't about to make any final decisions, not when he was seized with pain, thrown into this new clusterfuck of conspiracies, and still half out of his mind on morphine. For the moment, he just needed some peace.
"Wait-" he muttered through clenched teeth, reaching out a hand to grab Ben's forearm, stopping him from injecting the drug into his IV. "Help me up."
Ben frowned, pulling away. "Cal said-"
"Ask me if I care," Jackson responded automatically, trying to use his grip as leverage to sit up. But that wasn't going to happen- he needed help. He was being ridiculous, and he knew somewhere that the entire thing was a bad idea, but there was only one source of peace that he could think of.
Ben sighed heavily, realizing that Jackson was determined. "Do you care?" he replied softly, following the script as he carefully pulled Jackson to his feet, grimacing in pain of his own. But Jackson didn't bother feeling guilty- if Ben really cared, he would have refused to help.
Jackson shook his head, leaning entirely on Ben as the taller man helped him cross those few feet to the other bed. "Thanks for asking, though," he managed, waiting for Ben to move the plastic saline bottle and re-hang it on the headboard so his IV wouldn't be yanked out of his vein.
"I'll have her come tomorrow," Ben offered, referring to Spencer as he helped Jackson lay down next to Lisa. "She can wait another day, and..." He paused, grinning- the brief sentimental moment was already over. "You're pretty much useless right now."
Jackson just nodded, not bothering to retort. He turned his head over at Lisa, who lay on her stomach, making sure that he wasn't actually touching her. He didn't want to risk waking her up, after all- just...wanted to be closer. He could barely see her under that blanket, covered up to her closed eyes, and was pretty sure he never wanted to know exactly what had happened after he had passed out.
The spiraling thoughts throbbing in Jackson's skull began fading away again, and he knew Ben had finally given him the drug. He tilted his head back against the pillow, sliding his hand under the blanket to graze Lisa's. It was as much peace as he could have, given the circumstances, but it was enough.
Oh, I really hope you guys don't hate this too much. I had planned for a while to have Spencer be Jackson and Caleb's mom, but I've been nervous to unveil it. I hope it's not too much. Reviewers get the real, longer version of the conversation between Jackson and Caleb in their car.