warnings: mild profanity, jargon ...

updates: 4/28/2013

7. Staying Alive

What the—! Yusei saw Jack plunge, knocking the ball down, then awkwardly grab it and flip it towards first. It bounced lamely over, but still managed to beat the runner because the liner got to Jack so quickly.

But … Jack was … he wasn't getting up.

Yusei ran over to his pitcher, who had collapsed awkwardly, face-down on the turf. He turned him over onto his back and realized he wasn't breathing. Immediately, he realized that the impact of the liner had stopped his heart.

A little panicky, he began to compress Jack's chest, stupidly humming "Stayin' Alive." Basic first aid. "Get the trainer out here!" he yelled. He was vaguely aware that the rest of the infield had gathered around them.

But before the trainer got there and just as the infield started to arrive, Jack's eyes flew open, a flash of violet. He gasped for oxygen, gulping it in. Yusei held his shoulders down, as the large man struggled to push himself onto his elbows. "Don't move, Jack," he said with urgency. "Don't you remember? A liner hit you in the chest."

With that, Jack started coughing, and Yusei did help him up a little so that he could clear his lungs, letting him lean on his shoulder. "Are you OK?"

Jack was still breathing heavily, but he managed to say, "Yeah, I think so. … That asshole! He shouldn't have been able to hit that sinker! Give me a minute and I think I'll be OK to finish—"

"You're not thinking of finishing this game, are you?!" Yusei asked incredulously.

"Why not?"

"Your heart stopped. You weren't breathing!"

"Oh." He looked at Yusei for a moment. "But I feel OK …"

"You sure about that? Let the trainer check you out."

"Yes, let me be the judge of that, please," said Dr Schmidt, who had arrived on the scene. "Thanks for the quick first aid, Yusei. You probably saved some damage."

"You could have gotten out here quicker."

"Sorry about that. I'm not as fast as you youngsters. Looks like you got hit by a liner? Exactly where did it hit?"

Jack felt his chest and found the sorest spot.

"Hm. Looks like you're pretty tough. That was hot and hit right … yes, right over your heart. Stopped it for a few seconds. And you still got the ball to the bag … pretty amazing."

"Why did you do it, Jack?" asked Yusei. "Pitcher's not supposed to kill himself fielding, you know that."

"Instinct, I guess. Can't help myself. Gotta protect the basepaths."

"Well, whatever your reasons, I'm pulling you out of the game," said Dr Schmidt. "You could have a cracked rib, you know. I can't allow you to try a full pitching motion without x-rays. You could injure yourself further."

"Don't worry, Jack, you're the pitcher of record, and you can't lose," offered Kazama.

Jack sighed and let Yusei and Kazama walk him off the field to the cheers of the crowd.

"Why …?" Jack was struggling against the smaller man, who was surprisingly tenacious, pounding against his chest relentlessly.

"Jack! I should ask you that question!" Yusei cried out in ragged tones, without ceasing his pounding.

"Yusei, please! You-you're beginning to hurt me," he protested, trying to remove the boy.

"Why? Why are you dating that girl? I … you know how I want you!"

"What? You don't … what do you mean?" He grabbed Yusei by his shoulders and held him at arms' length, trying to examine his anguished expression.

"I said what I meant!" Yusei shouted, twisting in Jack's grasp. His writhing was so strange and wild that Jack dropped him, allowing Yusei to move in and pull Jack's jacket off his shoulders, pinning his arms while he began to ravage his neck.

"Don't … Wait! You're not yourself. Can't we talk about this?"

"No!" Yusei shouted, and pushed Jack violently against the wall behind them. So violently, in fact, that the impact woke Jack from his dream with a start.

Blinking, he tried to sit up.

Two large blue eyes confronted him. They weren't Carly's.

"Don't try to sit. You're still under observation. Let me put your bed up for you."

"Yu-Yusei? What are you doing here? Th-this isn't my bedroom."

"Don't you remember what happened?"

"I knocked down a liner, but there was something wrong. I couldn't breathe."

"That's right," Yusei said, sounding relieved. "Dr Schmidt had you brought here and they had you stay over night for observation. They put you on a sedative to help you sleep."

"But … why are you here? Did we win? Don't you have to be at the stadium?"

"I don't need to show until the afternoon. And, yes, we got you the win, in case you were worried about that." He smiled. "The team was pretty impressed by the way you got it to first on your last breath the way you did."

"You didn't say why you're here."

"Oh, right. Can't a friend stop by and see how a friend's doing?"

A friend?

"So we're friends now?"

"Don't get all gooey on me now, Mr Independent. I dragged Crow along too, hope you don't mind. He's out somewhere hunting us down some coffee."

"So has anyone said what the verdict is?"

"Yeah, you've got a cracked rib and they want to do a few tests to make sure there isn't any damage to your cardiovascular system. But Dr Schmidt said he thought I got to you fast enough."

"Yeah, Yusei, about that … thanks. I mean … really." He tried to look directly into the dark blue of those eyes and communicate the honesty of those words. Again he was struck by how similar and yet how very different his eyes were to Carly's.

"It's not a big deal. I mean, I'd do it for anyone. And … we can't lose our best pitcher, can we?"

"Well, my life and career is kind of a big deal to me. So thanks."

"I didn't mean—"

"I know. It's OK."

"Jack, were you … it looked like you were struggling a little just as you were waking up. Were you having trouble breathing? Do I need to call someone?"

"No, it … it was just a dream." He felt a little color come to his cheeks. He didn't remember it well, except that there was a strangeness, a pounding … Yusei … and … he laughed at himself. Guess Yusei's little thing for me must be getting to me, he thought. "I dreamed you were pounding on my chest."

Yusei laughed. "No wonder, after I had to press on it like that last night. You can't be feeling too good right about now." He frowned a little. "I'm worried about how soon you'll be able to handle a normal pitching motion."

Yusei stood, took a step closer and laid his hand gently on Jack's chest. "How does it feel, anyway?"

The sensation of Yusei's hand on his chest felt so strange; his heart seemed to respond to it even more strangely, pounding beneath it as though it wanted to burst out of him and make its way into that gentle touch. It came home to him that Yusei had saved his life, his career. His hand stirred a little, floating upward. "I—"

"I finally tracked down some decent coff—Am I interrupting?" Crow had appeared in the doorway. Jack's hand floated back down and rested atop the covers, not knowing where its intended destination might be.

"Huh? Yusei's just checking my wounds," said Jack amiably. "You've got coffee? Please. I'm sure the food here is bland beyond belief." He started to pull up again, but Yusei pressed his shoulders down.

"Stay. I'll adjust the bed." Yusei bent down and adjusted the bed so that Jack was more in a sitting position.

"I didn't know how you like it, so I added a little cream and sugar …"

"Thank you, Nurse," he said to Yusei. "And thank you, Crow. I'm sure it's just fine." He accepted the coffee gratefully. "Coffee was pretty much unknown in the neighborhood I grew up in. The smell of it … it's heavenly. This isn't even a special blend and …" He sighed. It just made him feel better. The scent, the warm liquid flowing down his throat …

Feeling eyes fastened on him, he looked up.

Yusei was watching him with an expression he couldn't quite read.

He decided not to ask and returned to his coffee, listening to Yusei and Crow as they engaged in some discussion of the day's events.

There was a knock at the door before Jack was finished with the cup and Kaz walked in, smiling. "Hey, Roomie, I smuggled in real food for you. I'm sure a growing boy like you can't handle what they're serving here." He placed a bag on Jack's table.

He took a look inside. "A real breakfast and … real coffee?"

"Kona, just the way you like it."

"Man, you're spoiling me." Jack finished off the hospital coffee and pulled out his second cup. "Thanks, guys! I'm really starting to feel part of this team."

"That's—"

"Hi, Jack!" came a bright greeting as the door burst open and Carly bounced in. "I brought cof…fee …"

Clearly she hadn't expected to encounter a crowd in Jack's room.

"Hi, Carly," Jack said. "These are some of my teammates. Yusei, Crow, and Kaz. Yusei's the one they call the Professor."

"Oh, right. Hi, fellas," she said shyly. "I'm sorry, I brought coffee and doughnuts, but I only have enough for two …"

There was a general hum of "forget about it" when there was yet another knock at the door as a doctor walked in. He was an older man who looked to be about 60. Jack held onto the breakfast Kaz had brought protectively. "Don't worry, Mr Atlas, I won't steal your breakfast … although, it does smell awfully good."

"Uh, please call me Jack."

"Sure. By the way, I'm really glad to have you pitching for our side for a change," he said, ruffling Jack's hair, much to his irritation.

"Thanks. Can you give me a diagnosis?"

"No problem. Yeah, you've got a cracked rib, but the really good news is that your heart is perfectly fine. No permanent damage at all. In fact, we should all be so blessed."

"We should all work so hard," mumbled Yusei.

"About the rib," asked Jack. "Does that mean I'll be out?"

"I've already spoken with your trainer. It's cracked, but it's a surprisingly minor injury, all things considered. I want you to miss your next start and reassess. Don't throw at all for the next few days and then start some light tossing under your trainer's supervision. If you can throw without pain, you can work your way back into a full pitching motion. How does that sound?"

Jack heaved a sigh of relief and admitted, "Not ideal, but much better than I expected." Carly let out a little squeal and gave Jack a kiss. It was a pretty chaste kiss, suitable for public, but Jack couldn't help noticing Yusei's expression hitch a little. At the same time, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt deep inside.

As the rest of them, Yusei, Crow, and Kaz moved forward to pound him—albeit softly—on the shoulders, Jack wondered what was happening.

Is it happening? Between us? He stole a glance at Yusei as they all clapped him on the shoulders happily and pulled back. Could it be Yusei is the one he was looking for? That special someone?

"Uh, I guess we'd better get to the stadium," Yusei said. "We should let you have some time with-with Carly."

There it was again … a little hitch. Was that guilt? Regret? What was that? He wanted to grab Yusei and ask him what it was. Why did he have to leave?

He didn't want to talk to Carly. He wanted to talk to Yusei. He wanted to spend the day with Yusei. Really talk to him … really get to know him.

But Yusei was gone.

Jack tried to hide his disappointment by opening the bag holding his breakfast. "You don't mind if I eat the hot breakfast Kaz brought first, do you?" Jack asked.

"No, not at all."

"Two breakfasts and three cups of coffee. You all know how to make a guy feel valued," Jack said brightly. He hoped that it didn't ring false. "Tell me how your investigation is going," he continued. If he could only change the subject and get her talking about something that wasn't him or romance … maybe she could get his mind off of all this.

She looked at him with such gratitude and joy that he could hardly stand it. "You wouldn't believe what I've found out!" she said. "It's all about how Don Piero is running numbers and building this incredible gambling empire in Neo Domino …"

Training progressed just as the doctor had described. Jack displayed an amazing constitution and healed with astonishing rapidity. Fortunately, the damage wasn't that bad, although it caused a fair amount of pain.

However, by about the time he would have been starting, Dr Schmidt OK'd him to do some very light pitching in the form of batting practice. Yusei could tell that the hurler was in a good mood to have come along so quickly even if he was still in some minor pain.

"OK, Jack," said Red, "this is just a warm-up, OK? Batting practice. The idea is to let them make contact, right?"

"OK, Coach, whatever you say. Pitch it to 'em slow and easy. I can do that." Jack winked and threw some nice soft pitches to the second-string catcher.

Yusei stood back of the batting cage with Crow, wondering how he'd managed to get into this fix. Now he was going to have to face Jack again? It wasn't every day that your ace threw batting practice.

He'd felt incredibly ambivalent ever since Jack had been injured. Something had happened then. Jack's heart had stopped and he could have just as easily died. At the same time, he was so unbelievably tough that, seeing him now, it was hard to believe that he'd been hurt at all. Yusei kept rummaging through his mind trying to figure out whether it was just the heat of the moment, or if there was something there that was lasting.

One thing he was sure of. The attraction he felt wasn't fading at all. If anything, it was getting stronger.

Since the day Yusei had visited Jack at the hospital, Yusei had occasionally caught Jack looking at him as though he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know how. Yusei wondered if he should try to get him away from the hubbub of the practice field where they could be alone, but, then again, he didn't. He didn't trust his own feelings. What if Jack wanted to tell him to stop bothering him? After all, Jack had mentioned something about wanting some sort of more serious relationship, and if he didn't see Yusei as that sort of guy … But surely he didn't still see him as someone for a few minutes of angry sex, and that's all.

But … the thought of a relationship was so … appealing. Would it appeal to Jack? He hesitated. He didn't want to mess up the team chemistry that they'd worked so hard to achieve. He didn't want to hear Jack tell him no. Still, he didn't think he could hold out forever. Maybe he could wait until the end of the season …

He felt something strange and looked up to find Crow staring at him, smiling knowingly.

"What?" Yusei asked.

"You know. Just do something about it already."

"Start us off, Crow, normal line-up, then the second-stringers," called out the hitting coach.

Crow dug in, and crouched low.

Yusei caught a flash of white from the mound. Jack's laughing that Crow always shrinks his strike zone to nothing no matter what.

A nice, straight fastball zipped in.

"A little softer, Jack," called the batting coach, Ned Black.

"Take it easy. This is a warm-up," called Red.

"Sorry about that. It's been a while since I've thrown batting practice."

"No problem," said Crow, digging in.

Several nice, slow fastballs later, Crow was getting a good bead on the ball and the hitting coach pulled him off to make a suggestion or two. "Prof, you're up!"

Uh-huh. The man up there is not incredibly good looking, and I would not much rather keep my eye on him than the ball. No, not at all.

Yeah, just keep telling yourself that …

Yusei tried to make his mind blank and pretend that the ball was coming out of a dark, foggy area … yeah, that's it.

Oddly, his mind seemed to go kind of blank and there was little but the ball and his swing. He was getting extremely good timing on it and was starting to make great contact.

Impressed, the hitting coach yelled, "You're getting good wood now! Try to find the sweet spot with your next stroke!"

Aaah! Yusei almost dropped the bat, but managed to hang on, gripping it tightly, almost choking up on it. He gritted his teeth.

He thought he saw a flash of white from the direction of the mound as Jack went into his wind-up.

Go ahead, laugh your ass off, Atlas!

He swung through, listening to the crack of the bat as it contacted the ball, sending it sailing over the center field fence.

"That's great, Prof! Kaz, you're up!"

After Yusei chatted with the hitting coach, Jack had already been relieved at the mound and caught up with him at the edge of the field. "I thought you were throwing batting practice," Yusei said.

"I was, but Red didn't want me to throw too many pitches today, I guess." He winked at Yusei and grinned. "You see? I can be cooperative when I try. Let me know if you need my help finding your sweet spot again. Any time."

Yusei colored, trying to think of an appropriate comeback, but Jack was already headed for the showers.

"Where do you think you're going? Fielding practice, Fudo!"

Yusei sighed and turned to join Crow on the field. Crow ran over. "What was that between you and dreamboat?"

"Don't call him that."

"So what's your pet name for him, then?"

"I don't have one. He made some crack about batting practice."

"He was serving you fat ones. It must be love. He really found—"

"If you say it too, I'm going to kill you right here in the infield."

"C'mon, Yusei, the way you look at him, it's—"

"Puddle of blood, right in front of second base …"

"You need to admit how you feel."

"Infatuated?"

"Is that all?"

"Hey, infield! Break it up! Get ready or get beaned!" Perez sounded pretty angry.

"Crow! You're getting me into trouble!"

"So? Do something!" Crow ran to his position and glued his eyes to the batter.

Do something?

He effortlessly scooped up a grounder and tossed it to first. He glanced toward the door that led to the clubhouse before looking back toward home plate.

A pop fly to third. Kazama ranged under it as Yusei relaxed for a moment and tried to imagine himself with Jack, just hanging out. Despite his ego, he was … kind of funny, fun. They had baseball in common, but he … well, he wasn't into science at all. Would that be a problem? Articles said he liked all sorts of activities: hiking, biking, flying. It seemed like he never stopped moving in the off season. But … he wasn't stupid, either.

He was just … competitive, focused.

"Focus, Yusei! Fly ball!"

Crap! He back-pedaled furiously and just reeled in the fly.

"I can't have you day-dreaming out there, Fudo, your glove is half of why we have you here! Do what you have to to work out whatever it is that's distracting you! Ask that girl out! Get laid!"

The infield laughed.

At the end of practice, Crow yanked on Yusei's elbow and drew him in close. "See? You have Perez's permission!"

Author's notes:

4/28/2013: added warning; corrected interrobang; added missing italic

Huh, no reviews this time, hope that doesn't mean that people absolutely despise the turn that my story has taken. If you do (or especially if you don't - despise it, I mean), feel free to let me know. Like everyone else, I simply adore positive reviews. Helps me feel the love ... (Yeah, and spread it around, folks ... bribe your favorites into writing more ...)

I apologize a little, I've been a little neglectful. I've felt the need to fix something and I've been a little distracted with ideas for some other projects that are in the wings. You know how it is - I need to figure out which one has the most traction getting started. Next one looks like it may be a YGO original series. I do want to try to fit in a one-shot, but I don't have any ideas that appeal. There are a couple of oldies ... somewhere ... if I find 'em, I'll post 'em. Otherwise ... oops. Sorry for rambling on like this, on with the real notes:

Staying Alive: Not only a song, a song that's used for Hands-Only CPR, check the American Heart Association web site. And not only that, a baseball term for a batter who fouls off pitches to "stay alive" at the plate trying to get a hit.

healed with astonishing rapidity: Didn't bother to look up the prognosis, but as we all know from the anime, Jack heals inhumanly quickly, so I call this consistent. ;)

good wood ... sweet spot ... your next stroke: Believe it or not, all of these are baseball terms. Getting good wood on the ball means to hit with power. Find the sweet spot of the bat means to find the best part of the bat to hit with (just like a tennis racket). A stroke, of course, is the swing of the bat.

choking up on [the bat]: To slide one's hands away from the end (knob) of the bat while holding it while batting. This gives the batter less leverage (power) but greater control.

fly ball, pop fly: A fly ball is a ball hit high in the air. A pop fly is a shorter one (if in the infield, it could be more specifically be termed an infield fly).

Next time ...

Gee ... Admission time. I haven't even got it started yet for once. I've written some stuff that's way ahead of this, but I need to fill in. So ... it's a mystery. Wooo-eeee-ooo ...