The first thing Will registers is the smell. It's burning his nostrils and making his eyes water slightly. It's fuel. Right.
The next thing that registers is that he can't hear anything. Sure, the ringing pinballing around his eardrums is excruciatingly clear, but that's it.
Next, he sees His surroundings. It's the same, in the passenger seat of the SUV, but it's upside down. Oh, it flipped over from the angle it impacted the tree, now shedding some patches of bark that were somewhat camouflaged by the smoke from the engine. He's starting to register what he's feeling now.
Heat. No, not just heat, burning heat. It's beginning to feel tingly, like when the eye doctor shoots soft air pellets into your eyes, it's not painful, rather, it's like being poked with a needle after you get that weird numbing stuff. Pressure.
His head also feels fuzzy, like waking up from a really deep sleep. Then he starts to comprehend his thoughts. Fuel's leaking steadily. No, oil's leaking steadily. Oil. OIL! Oh, fuck! Will finally registers his overwhelming panic overtaking his logical thoughts. He doesn't think, doesn't know he's even moving until he's on the ground, inhaling the oil fumes. That really hurts!
Someone's grabbing him now, pulling him away from the SUV, and yelling something at him that can't hear even though the ringing's dying down now. Now it's like he's underwater as his hearing un-understandably begins to become clear again. It's Benji. Benji.
Will squints to force his cloudy eyes to sharpen and read Benji's lips. Get up! You need to get up now! Will! Come on, Will, help me out here! Will grits his teeth so hard that it hurts, but he doesn't care. Move! Fucking Move! MOVE!
Though he has no idea what he's doing, he realizes that he is moving uncontrollably at the moment, but moving nonetheless. He focuses hard on one command instead. Get your feet Flat on the ground and push up. It's something that shouldn't be hard, but at the moment it's tormentingly painful, but Will forces himself to ignore it and stand up.
Will kicks at the air until he feels solid ground before flattening his feet on the ground and pushing himself up. As soon as he's on his feet he nearly falls back down as his legs give out for a second but Benji catches him and tugs him along. Benji eyes him in a silent, You got it? Will nods and Benji lets him go.
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Will's not sure how long they stand against the thickest trees they see closest hoping to have some kind of cover from the bullets that are still coming so inconsistently that they don't take any chances to get a glimpse of the shooter.
Luther's kneeling against a tree listening for a moment to shift to a better position that, so far, is nowhere to be found.
Jane's standing behind Will, holding his shoulder, mostly to keep him steady, noticing how disoriented he still is, but also to remind both of them that they are here with each other, for each other.
Benji's sitting with his head resting against a tree, holding his pistol in an iron grip. He's clearly, understandably, trying to stay as calm as possible.
Ethan's behind another tree, holding his pistol, Will notices has a silencer on it, with his finger on the trigger, always ready, always alert. Will notices the way Ethan's standing, posturing in an instinctive way, like a trained soldier just out of basic training, not knowing when to be a soldier, and when to be a person.
Will's attention is wrenched back to the present as something zips by him, just barely clipping his ear. Will immediately feels the warmth of the blood dripping from his ear and slinking down soaking the collar of his long-sleeve purple shirt. But wait, the blood's from his ear, so why is it splitting on his face? If it was just a little that's not unusual, but it wouldn't be this much unless the bul-
Will can feel the world slowing down around him as the blood moves to his vital organs. His head turns around as if in slow motion, as the most horrifying realization he's ever had, dawns on him.
Will basically crumbles under his own weight as he moves towards where the bullet hit. Before he makes contact someone's tackling him to the ground. It's Ethan. Will rationally knows why, because the shooter wasn't going to stop shooting when they hit someone. If Will keeps moving, he's next. But at this moment he's not thinking that. He's thinking, No, no, no, no! I have to help! I have to do something now! Thus why he's fighting against Ethan's grip as if he's being attacked, not protected. Ethan keeps muttering softly, almost like he's forcing himself to talk even though it's heartbreakingly painful.
"Will! Will, stop! Please just-stop moving! Just-" he's hissing at him, more of a plea than an order judging by how his voice subtly, but noticeably, breaks. The shooting stops, why exactly, was unknown. Luther takes over, holding Will and trying to calm him down as he nods to Ethan, who's already searching for where the shots are coming from through the small, but useful scope attached to his pistol, finger on the trigger.
After a few seconds, Ethan gestures to Benji, holding up four fingers, then two, and lastly ten fingers, messaging, four kilometers away, two clicks right, and ten clicks up. Benji nods, If you can, go ahead. Ethan can and he does. He squares his stance right, planting his feet, and locks himself in place before shooting twice. Once for the kill, twice for confirmation, something he doesn't think about anymore even though it's not always necessary, and discouraged by the IMF, yet he can't unlearn some things, most of them being skills that Gabriel taught him.
There's one more shot and after a second Ethan nods, "Got 'em." Luther finally lets Will go now that it's safe.
Benji can't help but think about how, or who taught Ethan certain skills, like this one which, according to Ethan means: Wait a second after the kill for one more shot just in case the shooter had been in the process of pulling the trigger, and another to make sure you're clear. Ethan said the second part was to make sure the bullet if, there was one, fires up, not down. If it fires down it's likely, assuming the shooter had been firing, the shooter fell forward, up and they fell backward, making it possible that another bullet will fire. How'd he know that?
Will's putting pressure on the wound from the bullet hitting the target's neck. It's not a through-and-through so the bullet's suppressing the bleeding somewhat, which is why Will doesn't immediately fish for what muscle, bone, or vein the bullet hit. He's shaking and crying, trying desperately to keep himself together. "Stay with me, stay with me, please just-you're okay, you're okay. Just keep your eyes open, okay? Hold on, I've got you….."
Will refuses to say or even think the truth, Jane's dying. He can't save her. But they promised them. They promised the kids they'd both come back. They have to-she has to-she can't leave yet! "Will…." Luther's kneeling next to him, tears in his eyes as he shakes his head. No.
"No, no! Sh-she-she's breathing! I can feel her pulse still-I-I-I-" Luther places his hand Will's hand that's still trying to keep pressure on the wound. "Will, she-" Will's head swivels to Luther, sad anger in his eyes. "Help me! Luth-please help me….!" Will looks to Ethan who's going to see who the shooter is. "E-Ethan? Ethan, you gotta help me….The-There's a duffle bag. It'ssss still useable, by the car." Ethan doesn't acknowledge him, opting to keep going. "Ethan! Ethan?! Ethan….." Will's sobbing now, starting to understand what's happening. "You can let go, Will. It's okay, just…."
Luther gently squeezes Will blood soaked hand as very slowly Will starts releasing the pressure.
She's dead……
