Chapter 2, Finally! Sorry for the long wait! This chapter has given me a little bit of trouble. I'm still not exactly thrilled with it, but I decided it was time to let it go and move on. The horrible part is that I have all of the major events planned out for this story as well as the end of each chapter. You'd think it would be easy to put the story together, but I've had some trouble getting what I have pictured into words. Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, or favorited the first chapter of this story. It really means so much! All of the reviews made my day : ) Also, a big thank you to those who inquired about the continuation of this story. You guys have kept me going. I just wish that I had more time to write!
I also want to say that this fandom is awesome! Everyone is so nice and encouraging. I love it! I hope everyone is enjoying season 2! (I know I am)
Happy Thanksgiving!
The New Cairo: Chapter 2
Jack hung his head low and glared at the nearly empty clip in his hand. He stared at it a while longer as though staring at the clip would magically make the ammunition that they desperately needed, appear. He closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them he would find that there were in fact more bullets and that it was just the darkness of the warehouse deceiving him into only seeing two. That had to be the case, Jack told himself, because there was no way their luck could be that bad.
But, he opened his eyes to stare at the clip again and nothing had changed. Bullets hadn't magically appeared and he hadn't been wrong. It was exactly as it had been moments before…..they only had two bullets and they were most definitely screwed. He might as well be carrying a club for all of the good the two bullets were going to do them. He cursed under his breath. Apparently their luck could be that bad.
With a depressed shake of his head, he slid the clip back into place. Jack really couldn't believe their piss poor luck. He would just add the lack of ammunition to the ever growing list. The list being everything that had gone wrong on this mission; A list that seemed to be getting longer and longer by the minute.
First their intel had been wrong in the worst kind of way, then they had been ambushed and severely outnumbered, Mac had gotten shot, and now they were trapped without backup. Not to mention, they were up against a group of bad guys that wanted them dead. Jack had a feeling that the insurgents were probably not too happy that they had interfered with their purchase.
The whole mission was supposed to be easy. A cake walk compared to their usual assignments. They were supposed to intercept the private sell of bomb schematics to the leader of a Ukrainian insurgent group.
The only people that were supposed to be present at the exchange was the leader of the insurgent group, who wanted to use the schematics to protest against their government in a very violent way, and the seller, who was some goon who called himself Charon. This Charon character was a bit of a mystery. No-one had a lot of information about the guy. No-one knew his goal or his intentions. The only thing that the intelligence community really knew about him was that his name, Charon, had been connected to several large catastrophic incidents. There was definitely a body count attached to the name.
Their main objective was to make sure that the insurgents didn't get their hands on the bomb schematics. But it was an extra bonus if they could get eyes on Charon. Unfortunately, the bad guys had known they were coming. They had been ambushed by the insurgents and Charon had bolted. So far it had been an all in all crappy mission.
So while the lack of ammunition qualified as a concern and made it on the list, it was definitely not the worst thing to happen on this mission. Not. Even. Close. Lots of things had gone wrong with this supposedly "easy" job. Hell, just about everything that could have gone wrong, had.
But it wasn't the lack of ammunition that had Jack's stomach knotted with worry. He glanced over his shoulder at his partner and quickly scanned worried eyes over Mac. The poor kid was hurting. Jack could tell that Mac was trying to hide it from him, but Jack knew the kid was in a lot of pain. It showed through Mac's slouched posture and his glassy, hooded eyes.
The injury to Mac without a doubt topped the list.
As much as it pained him to admit it, his partner was in bad shape. As if to emphasize Jack's thinking and the severity of his friend's condition, he heard a small gasp escape through Mac's tough defenses. The sharp intake of breath was followed by the sound of Mac shifting as though he was trying to get comfortable. His partner was no doubt trying to find a better way of sitting that would lessen the pain.
Jack felt a pang of guilt as he turned back towards his partner, knowing that it wouldn't be possible for his friend to get comfortable and that there was no way for him to lessen the pain. He saw Mac unsuccessfully trying to slide backwards so that he could be closer to the wall. Jack quickly set his gun down to the side and moved to help his friend sit up straighter.
"Can't say…I'm surprised," Mac tried to say with a smirk, while Jack slid him backwards as gently and smoothly as possible. Jack hated that the small grin on Mac's face quickly turned into a wince as the small movement pulled at his wounded side. Jack could tell that Mac's words were meant to sound casual, teasing even, but they came out in a painful wheeze.
"What?" Jack asked as he sat back on his heels in front of his partner, confused by his partner's line of thinking. His body tensed and his nerves were on edge while he waited for Mac's response. He was worried that Mac was becoming disoriented and was starting to show signs of confusion. The comment seemed out of the blue and Jack was more than a little afraid that the blood loss was the culprit.
"I'm just saying…this is par for the course…for us. When has a mission….ever gone as planned?"
Jack let out the breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. Mac's comment actually made sense and was connected to their current situation.
Jack thought about his friend's words. It was true, they had never been on a mission that had worked out exactly as planned, but this mission was different. On this mission nothing had gone as planned.
"Just because this is how things usually go for us doesn't mean I have to like it," Jack shot back at his young partner. He made sure to keep his voice low. The insurgents, by the sound of it, were still filing in and were still located on the opposite side of the warehouse, but he didn't want to take any chances of detection.
Mac surprised him with a calm response in spite of their current situation. "We've done more with less," Mac said, looking a little more with it now that he was more fully supported by the wall. It looked like Mac was going to give a shrug of his shoulders, but thought better of it and kept his body still. "Plus you can actually do a lot with two bullets…"
Jack couldn't hold back his soft chuckle. Mac's comment lacked his partner's usual enthusiasm when he was about to talk about the multiple and creative ways that he could repurpose something, but the response was so Mac- like that it boosted his spirits. "Yeah, well maybe you can, but you and I have very different skill sets, kid. When it comes to bullets, I just know how to shoot 'em. And you're in no shape to do be doin' anything but laying there. No more playing with gunpowder, chemicals, paperclips, and whatever else you have up your sleeves," Jack said, searching out his partner's eyes. When Jack found the blue of Mac's eyes he held the kid's gaze to make sure Mac was listening to him. "For the rest of this mission you're just takin' it easy," Jack added, with a stern, uncompromising look to let his friend know that he was serious.
Jack expected an eye roll or some kind of protest from his partner, but the kid gave him neither. The lack of response stole his breath and had his chest tightening with worry. Instead of a witty comeback, Mac closed his eyes and tightened his arms that laid around his waist. Jack tried to not let the uncharacteristic actions rattle him, and failed horribly. It was obvious that Mac was becoming tired and was having a harder time managing the pain.
Jack ran a calloused hand down his face and slowly moved from his crouch in front of Mac to sit back against the wall, picking up his gun as he did so. His body ached and it seemed to creak in protest as he stiffly shifted back to reclaim his spot next to Mac.
He was glad Mac's eyes were closed. That way he didn't have to try to hide the small grimace that crossed his face when he accidently bumped his hurting shoulder against the wall. The slight bump sent a spike of pain that cut clear down to the end of his fingertips, seemingly setting the nerve endings in his arm on fire. While there was heat and pain in his shoulder his fingers felt oddly icy and numb. He hoped that wasn't an indication of some kind of irreversible, permanent damage.
Earlier he had tried to ignore the pain that was radiating from his shoulder out of necessity, but now it was getting harder and harder to do. It frustrated him that the simple act of reaching back to retrieve his gun had caused the injury to flare angrily.
He was no doctor, but he knew it was not a good sign that it was burning with a strange agonizing heat. What should have been a simple action, had been no easy task. The adrenaline rush that had fed his body earlier during their escape, was now waning. The pain that he hadn't felt before was making itself known. And pain from his shoulder wasn't the only thing he was feeling.
With the adrenaline fading he could now feel a painful throb resonate through his skull. Most likely a concussion, Jack self assessed. He had had enough in the past to know what one felt like. He was experiencing all of the usual indicators; A painful thrum that radiated throughout his head and threatened to split it in two, a distant nausea that could make a front and center appearance at any moment, and the muddled thoughts that couldn't be kept in any kind of order. Yep, definitely a concussion.
He shouldn't have been surprised. Earlier, when this mission had officially gone to crap, he had engaged in a scuffle or two where he had taken a few blows to the head. His whole intention of taking on the bad guys was to keep them away from his partner and to keep him safe. A lot of good that did, he thought to himself heaping more guilt onto his shoulders. He felt the crushing weight of guilt and felt it was well deserved. He had one priority mission: to protect Mac. It was the one job that he put above all others. And he had failed.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a whispered question, one that was clearly laced with concern.
"You alright?"
Jack turned to face his partner. He should have known that it would be no use trying to hide his pain from Mac. The kid was beyond observant and had a mind that ran a million miles a minute. Not to mention that the kid had a heart of gold, so he put everyone's well-being before his own.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Jack said in a hushed voice. "I'm not the one who just got shot." He tried his best to put on a brave front and to engage in the normal back and forth with his partner, but he couldn't stop his voice from breaking. The kid was in serious trouble, especially if they didn't get help soon.
He hoped the kid wouldn't notice the redirect and the fact that he hadn't actually answered Mac's question, but had instead avoided it altogether. He didn't like to lie to his partner, so he figured the redirect was the better of the two.
The truth was he wasn't ok. His body hurt, they were trapped, and Mac was critically wounded. He wanted nothing more than to help his partner, but he had never felt more incapable of doing so…. He felt like he was drowning. He was feeling way in over his head and unequipped at getting his partner out of this mess. He wasn't ok, because Mac wasn't ok.
Mac didn't say anything in response, but rather just stared at Jack. Jack couldn't help but feel uneasy as Mac studied him with prying eyes. Jack could tell the kid was trying to discern whether he was fine or whether it had been the misdirection it was. Mac brought his glassy eyes up to meet Jack's, his brows raised, his message clear. He wasn't going along with any of it.
"Dude, I'm fine," Jack tried again to convince his partner. He felt slightly guilty lying to his friend, but he knew it was in their best interest at the moment. He didn't need Mac wasting any of his waning energy worrying about him. And Jack knew that's exactly what the kid would do.
He glanced at Mac and could tell the kid still wasn't buying it, so he quickly added on a bit of truth that might allow his lie to fly under the radar unnoticed. "I would be better if we had more than two bullets to our name," he groused unhappily as he waved his empty hand toward the gun, "or, ya know, if this mission had gone down how it was supposed to in the first place…"
And that part was definitely the truth.
He looked down at the gun in his hand and let out a discouraged sigh. The cold metal of the weapon was usually a comfort to Jack, but not today. His gun was more than just a weapon, it was a tool that gave him some peace of mind. He could use it to keep the ones he loved safe and that had always given him a sense of safety and security. His gun was dependable and constant….until today, that is.
He had always relied on his gun in the same way that Mac relied on his Swiss Army Knife.
Looking down at his gun now, knowing that the two bullets weren't going to do much good against the group of insurgents that were entering the warehouse, he couldn't help but feel that he had been betrayed by an old and loyal friend.
He shook his head clearing his somber thoughts, bringing himself out of his head and back to the situation at hand. He shifted slightly and took a couple of deep breaths to give his mind a second to refocus on the here and the now. Allowing himself to get lost in his feelings of helplessness wasn't doing them any good and it was getting them nowhere.
Realizing that he had gotten lost in his thoughts and had briefly zoned out on Mac, he moved his gaze from the gun in his hand back to his partner. He wasn't surprised when he found Mac staring at him with worried eyes.
Yeah, zoning out on the kid probably hadn't helped to convince Mac that he was fine. Jack moved his empty hand up to lay it on Mac's shoulder giving it a small reassuring squeeze.
"Will ya stop worrying about me? I'm fine. You on the other hand are looking a little worse for wear. You hangin' in there?" Jack didn't bother to hide his concern as he tried to meet his partner's eyes. He asked his question and pointedly nodded his head down at Mac's side, the small gesture a question in and of itself.
Jack watched his partner intensely. He took in every breath and body twitch trying to determine how the kid was actually doing while he waited for a response. Jack knew the kid wouldn't give him a straight answer, he never did, but simply asking the question gave Jack a chance to analyze his partner's condition.
"What?...This?" Mac breathed as he lifted his hands to gesture at his side. "This is just a scratch…nothing I can't handle."
Jack shook his head. Mac always downplayed his injuries, even critical ones. Mac hated to be fussed over and hated even more to feel vulnerable. Mac liked to feel in control. The bravado and the banter was not doubt to mask his feelings of powerlessness. Jack also knew that part of it was that Mac didn't want to worry him.
Jack would just have to do his own assessment to determine how well his friend was actually holding up.
Jack's eyes were drawn to the blood soaked shirt that he had fastened in place with his belt only moments before. He noticed the shallow rise and fall of Mac's chest as his friend concentrated on trying to take slow, controlled breaths.
It hurt him to see the kid in so much pain, especially since he knew he could nothing about it. Mac looked pale and his eyelids looked heavy. Despite the slow even breaths, Jack could tell that each inhale and exhale was costing his friend. It was easy to see that just the act of breathing hurt. It was written all over Mac's face. Jack could tell by the heavy droop of the kid's eyes that Mac was tired and fighting to stay conscious.
Honesty, Jack was surprised that Mac had lasted this long. His partner had been shot, rushed across the compound, dragged across the floor of the warehouse, and had endured the pain of Jack's makeshift pressure-bandage all while staying conscious. There were not many who could endure that kind of pain. Mac had even remained with it enough to keep conversation. Mac was one tough kid.
Mac had lasted this long, but Jack wasn't sure he would last much longer….Mac was fading.
Even with Mac's bravado, Jack couldn't help but notice and start to mentally tally up the symptoms Mac was exhibiting related to hypovolemic shock.
Pale skin, Check.
Sweating profusely, check.
Fast and shallow breathing, check.
Cold and clammy skin, check.
And with each new symptom, Jack's concern for his friend increased.
He was again pulled from his thoughts when he heard another squeal of metal sound throughout the warehouse, indicating that the group of insurgents had finished filing into the building and were sealing the exit. The loud sound was eerie and it had a sort of finality to it. It was like a bad omen. One that was warning them of their impending doom.
He didn't know how many insurgents had entered the warehouse for sure, but he guessed about 15 based on the amount of shuffling he had heard after the opening of the warehouse door.
From what Jack had gathered, it seemed that the insurgents were not highly trained, especially not in stealth. He made this conclusion based on the amount of noise they had made while entering the warehouse and how much noise they continued to make now that they were inside.
So far, their noise was making it easy to determine their location. Which, if they kept it up, Jack could work that to their advantage. As of right now, based on what he could hear, it seemed that they were all still on the opposite side of the warehouse. Hopefully they would stay there awhile, so he could have some time to come up with a plan.
The insurgents may not be stealthy, but they definitely had the advantage when it came to numbers and ammunition. And when it came down to 15 vs. 2, it really didn't matter whether the 15 were trained soldiers or just some bad guys with guns.
Jack was usually calm and collected when faced with high pressure situations like this. That's why he was so good at what he did. He could remain calm when in the line of fire, but this go around he was feeling all out of sorts, not to mention more and more helpless. Normally he was able to keep a level head, but the injury to Mac was messing with his usual calm.
Jack resisted the urge he felt to stand up and pace the small space.
To say the least, Jack was starting to feel overwhelmed….His partner was pretty much out of commission and in dire need of medical attention, his injured shoulder complicated things, and 15 to 2 weren't very good odds. It seemed like the odds were always stacked against them. Jack couldn't help but think that the universe had it out for them….
He was once again brought out of his thoughts when he heard a soft wheeze from Mac that almost sounded like an attempted snort. Jack hated that he kept getting lost in thought and was allowing his brain to wander. He blamed his inability to keep his mind on track on the concussion. Jack looked over at Mac and was surprised to see the kid's eyes open and studying him. Even more surprising was the small smile that crossed Mac's face.
"Jack…..sulking about our bad luck isn't going to help us any," Mac whispered, before Jack could ask what the kid found so amusing. Jack didn't fail to notice the small hitch in Mac's breath.
Jack was taken back by his partner's insightful comment. He tried not to let the surprise show on his face. It was like the kid was a freakin' mind reader.
"I wasn't...," Jack started to deny even though his friend's observation was pretty much right on the money. His thoughts had kind of been doom and gloom.
Mac interrupted before he could finish his thought. "I can…always tell… you're eyebrows draw together….and you get those wrinkles on your forehead…," Mac said weakly, lifting one of his hands from covering his wound to point at Jack's face. "Just like that. Plus…you were…uncharacteristically silent," Mac said, his voice low. "It was kind of nice actually…," Mac teased.
Jack was going to continue to deny Mac's observation, but decided it was useless. The kid just knew him too damn well. "Okay, so maybe I was thinking about our bad luck, but considering the day we've had I think it's warranted."
"It'll be ok, Jack."
Jack would have found Mac's reassurance a lot more convincing if it hadn't been said around a grimace and if the blood covering his friend's side and hands didn't stand out even in the darkness of the warehouse.
Jack gave Mac an incredulous stare. As of right now, Jack was beyond frustrated by their current predicament. This time Jack did get up and pace, walking the small length of their hiding spot.
They were in deep trouble and he had no idea how they were going to get out of this mess, but his partner didn't seem too worried. That set Jack's nerves on edge… the kid was never one to hold back on telling him the odds. And right now the odds of them making it out of this situation sucked. In the back of Jack's mind he wondered if the blood loss was starting to cause Mac to become distant and not as aware as he was before.
"What about this is ok?" Jack said, momentarily stopping his pacing to wave an arm around the space to indicate their current situation. Jack took a calming breath, reigning in his emotions so his voice didn't rise. He still needed to talk in quiet whispers with the enemy close. "Plus what's got you so optimistic? You're usually all about the odds, and this time around I don't have to be the genius that you are to know that the odds are definitely against us."
Jack watched as Mac opened his mouth to give a reply, but instead Mac winced as his body folded forward. Jack quickly crouched down in front of Mac and set his gun to the side. Jack caught his partner against his chest, halting Mac's forward fold which would have surely ended with the kid making hard impact with the cement floor. Jack's hands briefly hovered over Mac's shivering form while the kid rested against him. He wasn't sure what he could do to help his hurting partner. Deciding that the best thing he could do for his partner was to ground him, Jack gently grabbed one of his partner's hands.
It was all Jack could do and it didn't feel like nearly enough.
He felt Mac's grip tighten around his own with surprising strength. Mac was undoubtingly using him as an anchor while he rode through the onslaught of pain.
After what felt like forever, Mac loosened his grip, but he didn't let go. Jack looked at Mac's face to see him slowly opening his eyes. The act of opening his eyelids seemed like a mountain of a task.
Mac lifted his head and Jack helped him stiffly unfold backwards into his lean against the wall. Jack made sure not to dislodge his friend's hand as he did so. Jack scooted closer and he looked up into Mac's eyes. He knew it was almost silly to ask at this point, but he asked anyways. "How you doin', brother? You still with me?" He hated how his voice shook as he asked.
"Yeah, just t'red….n' cold."
Fatigue, check.
Jack's heart dropped. Mac was going downhill, and fast. The slur of Mac's words and the new symptoms were definitely not good signs. Jack reached his empty hand forward to check Mac's pulse while he tried to keep his own heart rate under control. Beneath his fingers Jack felt Mac's pulse which was fast, but growing weaker.
Fast heart rate, check.
Weak pulse, check.
Jack scrubbed the hand that had just checked Mac's pulse down his face. He was at a loss. He didn't know what to do to get them out of this and he didn't know how to help Mac. He gave Mac's hand a squeeze. "I'm sorry, bud. I wish more than anything that I could change that, but I don't have anything to help keep you warm and I can't let you sleep. I need you to stay awake." Jack tried not to think about how concerning it was that Mac was shivering in the comfortable heat of the warehouse.
Mac gave him a weary nod of understanding. Jack had never felt more helpless.
Jack was just about to sit beside Mac so the kid could rest against his side and leech some of his body heat, when he heard some movement from the far side of the warehouse that grabbed his attention. He tried focusing his senses to see if he could hear anything telling about the movement that was happening. It sounded like the insurgents may be getting ready to move away from their point of entry and to start searching the warehouse.
By the sound of it, it seemed like they were spreading out to cover more ground rather than sticking in a few large groups. This was both good and bad news. It was good news, because this gave Jack a possible idea on how to get them out of here. Bad news, because it could also mean that they might find them faster….
Jack needed to start taking some kind of action. They were running out of time. He roamed his eyes over their small hiding place. He needed to make their hiding spot more secure if possible. His eyes landed on some small crates stacked up against one of the much larger crates that made up the walls of their hiding spot. He had an idea. He could move the smaller crates to close off the place they had entered. It wasn't much, but it was a start. It might conceal them better and it might make it harder for the insurgents to enter into the small space.
He gave Mac's hand a squeeze and gently let go of his friend's hand. "Alright, bud. Just hang tight."
He stood from his crouch and went over to the crates. The idea had seemed simple enough, but with his shoulder he found it to be a bit more difficult. It took a little trial and error, but he found he was able to quietly push the stack across the floor instead of having to lift them. He used his shoulder and body to push the stack to fill the space where they had entered. Now they were completely surrounded by crates and hopefully well-hidden.
Jack had just finished moving the stack when he heard his partner shift behind him. He turned around to see Mac making a move to stand.
"Whoa, whoa! What do you think you're doin'?" Jack said trying to keep his voice quiet. He rushed to his partner placing both of his hands gently atop his friend's shoulders to keep Mac from moving. He hated how easy it was to put a halt to Mac's movements. Mac let out a small hiss as his weak movements pulled at his gunshot wound.
"Jack….I don't think we can stay here," Mac bit out. "We need to get out of here," Mac said through some labored breaths, his panicked eyes staring at Jack.
Jack was getting whiplash from the sudden changes in Mac. Only a minute ago Mac had been calm and collected and now he was panicked and afraid.
Jack felt like he had taken a punch in the gut. He had never seen his friend this way. On the countless missions they had been on together and even the years they had fought in the war together he had never seen Mac so distressed and disoriented.
It was weird to see his usually strong and confident partner show any sign of fear. Jack blamed Mac's uncharacteristic vulnerability on the blood loss. He took in the look on his partner's face and knew that the glint of fear in Mac's glazed eyes would haunt his dreams for years to come. Jack desperately needed to calm his partner and come up with a plan. Jack kneeled down in front of his partner putting himself in Mac's line of sight.
"Alright, alright just hold up now. I think we have a little bit of time to come up with a plan. This is a large warehouse filled with a maze of crates. Not to mention it's dark. All of these work to our advantage. So no need to panic just yet. It will take them a while to find us," Jack explained to his friend in a hushed whisper, his words calm belying how he actually felt.
"Plus what have I been tellin' ya? You need to take it easy okay? Just let good Old Jack take care of this one huh? No trying to move; we don't want you to aggravate that hole in your side so that you are losing more of that red stuff." Jack tried to flash Mac a teasing smirk, but felt it probably looked forced and brittle. "You know that stuff is kind of important and is supposed to stay on the inside," Jack said trying to slip back into their usual banter.
Mac gave a small nod to acknowledge Jack's reassurance and stopped his feeble attempts at trying to stand. Getting the nod from Mac, Jack removed his hands from his partner's shoulders.
Then to Jack's surprise the kid raised his head and flashed him a small grin.
"I think you missed your calling…with terminology like 'hole in your side' and 'red stuff' you would have been a great medic," Mac joked through gritted teeth. It was obvious the kid was in a lot of pain, but Jack appreciated his partner's attempt to lighten the mood.
Jack noticed that there was no longer a slur to Mac's words and that the frantic confusion that had been present had dissipated.
It seemed that Mac's condition was like a roller coaster of ups and downs. One minute his condition was worsening and then the next, his condition seemed to drastically improve. Jack knew that to many, that may seem like a good thing, but he knew that it was quite the opposite. He'd seen this happen to injured soldiers while in the sandbox. They seemed to get better right before they crashed.
He shook his head pushing the thought aside. That WAS NOT happening to his partner.
There wasn't much Jack could do about Mac's condition. The one thing he could do was provide comfort and try to keep the kid with it. He knew that talking, even in quiet whispers, was not the best tactical move, but he needed to make sure Mac stayed awake.
"Hey, takes one to know one. You're no better at playing medic, just sayin'," Jack teased, trying to keep the kid engaged and hopefully a little distracted from the pain. "The horrible stitching job you did on me in Helmand specifically comes to mind…"
As he kept up the banter, Jack shifted his focus to the makeshift bandage. He carefully looked it over to see if it was doing its job. It seemed that it had helped to slow the bleeding, but there was still a concerning amount of red soaking the wadded up shirt. Jack was surprised that Mac didn't complain about the fussing and didn't even flinch as Jack gently inspected the area around the wound.
"I guess that just goes to show that a person can't be good at everything…" Mac tried to say, but was interrupted with a weak cough.
Jack gave a small chuckle at his partner's cocky comment. "Yeah, too bad it seems that one of the things youare good at is gettin' into trouble and gettin' shot at."
Jack slowly moved from his kneel to sit against the wall next to his partner. This way he could give his partner some much needed support while he thought through a plan.
"Touché," Mac said, with raised eyebrows as though he was impressed with Jack's return. Unfortunately, Mac's small response was followed by a few more rough coughs that Mac desperately tried to stifle.
Jack scooted closer to Mac and inwardly cringed at the sound of his partner's wet coughs. From inspecting the wound Jack knew that Mac was losing a lot of blood, and he had no idea what damage lay beneath the skin. Since there was only an entry wound and no exit wound, it meant the bullet was still in Mac's side. And the bullet undoubtedly left all kinds of havoc in its wake and could be causing more damage whenever Mac moved. It was very possible, and more than likely, that his partner was suffering from some very serious internal damage. He hated to think what that could mean for his partner…..Dammit. He needed to stay focused.
He was worried about Mac's well-being, but right now if he was going to help Mac he was going to have to push those thoughts aside and focus on making a plan to get them out of there. He kept going over everything he knew. He had a couple of ideas that he kept turning over in his head, trying to figure out the details of each plan. Each idea was better than nothing, but neither of his ideas were very good. Each plan had a lot of holes and questionable outcomes.
He heard Mac give a shuddering breath.
"Mac?" Jack softly asked as he looked at his partner with worried eyes. Even though Jack had only said his friend's name, both of them knew that so much more was asked in the one worded question.
"I'm…alright..," Mac grit out through clenched teeth.
"Yeah, I can tell," Jack said not holding back on the sarcasm. He looked Mac in the eyes silently asking his partner how he was holding up. He was almost pleased when he saw some of Mac's stubbornness overshadow his pained expression. Mac gave him a glare that clearly told Jack to stop mother-henning him. Jack shook his head.
His partner, always the stoic….
"If I can't fuss over you when you have a GSW and are bleeding out, when the heck can I mother-hen you?" Jack asked.
"The answer would be…never, Jack," Mac said, his face pinched with pain. "Maybe when I'm…on my death bed. Then… you can mother-hen…all you want."
Jack's emotions must have shown on his face. The thought of Mac on his death bed was more than he could bear. And, honestly, right now seemed an all too real possibility. He could tell that Mac saw his haunted expression because Mac quickly added, "Which I'm not. I'm going to be fine. I've…had worse."
Although his partner's words helped to ease some of his worry it didn't erase all of it. Mac's statement may have been true, but Jack knew Mac wasn't doing as well as he was letting on. Jack was easily noticing how Mac couldn't seem to finish a full sentence without pausing to desperately suck in some air. The harsh pants were littered throughout his speech causing his sentences to be halting and choppy. Jack also noticed that, now, instead of simply laying his arms over his midsection, Mac had his arms tightly wrapped around as though he was trying to physically hold himself together.
Jack tried to bring himself out of his thoughts and back into the banter with his partner. He continued on with the friendly banter, because he could tell Mac was relying on the talking to keep himself awake.
"Just watch what you say there, buddy. You already jinxed us once and the way our luck's been goin' let's not give Lady Luck another opportunity to put the hurt to us."
"Jack, I didn't know you were so…superstitious."
"I'm not, but maybe that's why our luck is crap. At this point I'm willing to do anything that might help our luck to change or at least, in this case, to keep it from going from bad to worse. Even if I need to start knockin' on wood, throwing salt over my shoulder, crossing my fingers or whatever, I'll do it all."
Jack was expecting a teasing response from his partner, but he didn't get one.
Instead, Mac's eyes suddenly fluttered as though the kid was desperately trying to keep them open. Mac pushed one of his hands down on his wound and bit back a groan. Mac's eyes went from fluttering and heavy to wide open and bright with fresh pain.
Jack knew exactly what the kid was doing. He was using his own pain to help keep himself awake. Of course this strategy wouldn't help him for long. Not to mention there was a very thin line between the amount of pain needed to stay awake and the amount of pain that would cause a person to pass out. Jack hated that his friend was taking such measures.
"Hey, take it easy Mac. We're gonna come up with a plan, alright? I already have a couple of ideas." He left out the fact that neither of them were very good ideas. "No need to cause yourself more pain. I've got your back, brother."
Jack could visibly see Mac relax a little at his words. Mac stared at him for long moment before giving a slight nod that conveyed the trust that he placed in him. Jack just hoped that his friend's trust wasn't misplaced.
"You…have…some ideas?" Mac asked while shooting Jack a smart-aleck smirk. "Should I…be worried?"
Although seeing Mac's smirk helped to lift his spirits a little, he didn't quite feel the smile that he shot back.
"Probably, but they're still a work in progress. They can't be any crazier than any of your usual throw-all-caution-to-the-wind ideas." As a last minute thought he added on, "But if you can come up with a plan I'm all ears."
He wasn't really expecting Mac to come up with something, but he was hoping that by giving Mac a task it would keep him busy, awake, and distracted from the pain.
Jack gave Mac a comforting pat on the shoulder and stood, moving forward to peek through the small space between the crates. "So do you have any great ideas brewing in that head of yours that can get us out of here or at least hold them off?"
He was met with nothing but silence. He quickly spun around to see that Mac had closed his eyes and looked too still. Cold panic raced through his chest as he hurried back to his partner's side. He once again came to a kneel at the side of his partner.
"Mac! Mac. Hey, no falling asleep on the job, okay?" Jack said while giving Mac's shoulder a slight shake, trying to reign in his panic and failing miserably. "I'm going to need your help, alright? I need you and that big brain of yours to help me come up with some kind of plan."
Mac shifted slightly and slowly opened his eyes. Jack gave a small exhale of relief. Trying to keep Mac with it and engaged, Jack pressed on. He kept one hand on Mac's shoulder, hopefully providing the kid a comforting presence. "So any bright ideas? What ya thinkin'?"
"I'm thinking that we should have brought along some backup for this mission," Mac tried to say through a strained smile, his tone tired and defeated.
Jack ran his eyes over Mac. Despite the kid's wisecrack remark Jack could tell that Mac was barely hanging on.
For the sake of continuing the banter and raising his partner's spirit, he responded with a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, well hindsight is 20/30."
"20/20," came Mac's soft, but fast reply.
"What?" Jack asked, not quite catching the kid's quick response.
"The phrase is: 'hindsight is 20/20,' Jack"
Jack smiled. All couldn't be lost if his friend was correcting him. It looked like there was some hope after all. Of course Mac had to go ahead and prove him wrong as his hooded eyes drifted shut. Jack tried to hide his panic as he once again gave Mac's shoulder a slight shake.
"Ok, kid stop joking around. Time for you to earn those big bucks in your paycheck," Jack directed at Mac, the shake in his voice audible.
Jack knew that they didn't make enough money considering what they did on a daily basis, but he also knew that neither of them did this job for the money. The comment was just to bait Mac into saying something snarky back. Mac didn't disappoint and gave a soft snort, his eyes slitting open.
"You must be…confused. I think we'd make more working….fast food," Mac panted out through pained breaths. "Probably be less painful too," he said around a grimace.
"Ok, so after we get out of this we'll make a career change," Jack teasingly replied, trying to keep the kid with it. He could tell that Mac was drifting and it was becoming harder and harder for Mac to stay conscious.
"That's assuming we do in fact make it out of here," Mac shot back groggily. There was only a hint of his usual jest present in his reply, most of his usual teasing was overshadowed by his weary demeanor.
"Hey, no one likes a Debbie Downer. We'll get out of here just fine," Jack said quickly, wanting to put a stop to Mac's sudden shift of attitude. Even though Mac's last comment had been said with some tease, Jack could clearly identify the underlying tone. A tone that said "I'm giving up." And this scared him almost more than anything. The MacGyver he knew would never give up. Giving up was never an option for Mac. Mac always faced challenges head on. The kid liked being tested to see if he could fix the seemingly unfixable.
"I wasn't…trying….to be….pessimistic, just…realistic," Mac panted, his breathing becoming worse. The effort of breathing seemed to becoming more and more difficult. "Considering…all of the odds…."
Jack gently interrupted his friend wanting to keep their banter alive, but also wanting to put a stop to his partner's line of thinking. "Ah, here comes the odds talk that was missing earlier. I changed my mind I don't want to hear about the odds. I liked it better when you were being weirdly optimistic," Jack said gently patting his friend on the shoulder. "It'll be ok, kid. We'll be ok." Jack tried to put as much strength behind his words as he could. He needed to convince his partner that all was not lost. They had a chance. "I promise."
The last admission slipped out of his mouth unchecked. It had almost been automatic. Jack knew that he couldn't make that kind of guarantee and Mac probably knew it too. His mind had thought it, not being able to entertain the thought of any other outcome. He was determined. They would get out of this.
"Jack…," Mac said, raising his hooded eyes up to Jack's, "I…don't think…I can last ….much longer."
Jack felt his heart clench painfully. The stark, blunt honesty cutting him deep. The panic that Jack sensed in Mac's eyes shredding any resolve he had and replacing it with a panic of his own.
Jack took one of Mac's hands in his and gave it a slight squeeze. "You can Mac," Jack said solidly as though saying it would make it true. "And you will." In that moment, Jack picked the better of his two ideas. The looming pressure of time forcing him to make a decision. "Don't worry bud, I've got a plan. But you're probably not going to like it…."
…To Be Continued
Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope that it wasn't too much of a letdown. Sorry once again for the ridiculously long wait in between updates. The next chapter will be very Jack-centric, so I hope you stick around! Please, leave me a review : )
Also, I have some fun plans for Charon. He will be showing up in a fic I am working on called "Ashes to Ashes" so keep an eye out for that!