"Don't move, guys," Carson said softly.
Jack retreated abruptly, tilting his head in confusion. "Why?" Jack asked, the fight gone out of him.
"Why what?" Carson asked softly, sitting up slowly on the bed, rubbing his shoulder carefully.
"Fear, now. Fear, cave."
So Jack had sensed his fear back at the cave, that's why he had stopped their "mating". A stab of overwhelming tenderness shot through Carson and he placed a gentle hand over Jack's heart.
"I don't know how much you understand of what I'm saying, but I'm afraid for you, not of you. You're getting better, Jack. And I know once you're back with us, the thought that you'd hurt me, or any of us, will be too much for you to take. This is what I was talking about on the roof; things aren't always what they seem. I would never betray you and neither would Roger. We love you."
Whether he was responding to the words or Carson's soothing voice, Jack laid back on the bed, taking Carson with him and snuggling to his warmth.
"What the hell just happened here?" Vivian asked, careful to keep her voice low.
"Considering he attacked me and Carson, I think I can guess," Roger replied dryly, his voice muffled by the handkerchief he had pressed to his nose. "I was here earlier. Jack must've seen me give Carson a hug and misunderstood?" he half-asked.
Carson nodded slightly. "Has to be. Sorry about the nose."
"S'okay," Roger murmured, eyes watering. "Only hurts when I breathe."
"You okay, Carson?" Jackie asked.
He gave her a lopsided smile. "I'm fine."
She bobbed her head in disbelief. "Liar," she said with a grin.
Carson gave her a rueful expression, then asked, "Okay, how about that lunch you promised?"
"We brought sandwiches," Jarod told him, opening a small paper bag. "Turkey or meatloaf?"
"Meatloaf for both of us, I think," Carson said. "Put them on the nightstand. We'll eat when Jack wakes up."
Little by little the others began to relax, spreading throughout the room and telling him, in hushed voices, about their morning. Carson closed his eyes, listening absently as his body slumped deeper into the bedding, the feeling of Jack's arms wrapped around his waist, comforting.
He never heard the others finish their lunch or leave the room quietly.
# # #
"...Anyway, Mason cuts the wrong wire, freaks out when the timer speeds up the countdown, and starts running around like a madman yelling 'It's gonna blow, it's gonna blow!'. We run out of the building like our asses are on fire, but when the timer hits zero nothing happens. I decide to take a chance and see why the bomb didn't go off. Turns out it was a fake. That's what you get for sending the rookie to disarm it. My guess is that he had to change his pants after that," Carson chortled, telling Jack yet another of his army stories.
He had taken to talking to Jack every day, telling him details of his life before they met, funny anecdotes, or even things the two of them had done together, in hopes of igniting a spark of memory in Jack. While he talked, Carson would give Jack massages or a little physiotherapy by helping Jack flex and rotate his arms and legs to stretch his muscles. Jack could move around on his own, but didn't exercise his body enough to compensate for the time he spent in bed.
The sound of a throat clearing had Carson turning to the open door. "Good morning, Dr. Okoko," he greeted their visitor. "Here for Jack's daily check-up?"
Okoko smiled, his startling white teeth a sharp contrast against his dark skin. "Good morning, Mr. Bodine." The smile vanished. "I'm afraid I've got bad news."
Carson patted Jack's leg gently, before letting it rest back on the bed. "Oh?"
The doctor exhaled sharply. "It's been two weeks since Mr. MacKenzie was brought in and... Well, I hate to admit it, but there isn't anything more we can do for him. If not for your presence, I don't think he would've improved at all."
Carson frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Bodine, but he's being discharged today. Here." He handed Carson a thin sheet of white paper. "If you can't take care of him, there's a clinic in town that will be able to take him in. I wrote the name down, along with all pertinent information. It offers the best private health care this country has to offer."
Carson shook his head. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I'll take him home with me."
Okoko's expression was sympathetic. "I understand how you feel, Mr. Bodine. But you may have to face the possibility that Mr. MacKenzie's condition won't change in the near future. Maybe not ever."
Carson swallowed thickly at that, but stood his ground. "I get that, Dr. Okoko, but I'm still taking him home."
"Very well," Okoko said. "In that case, I'll go see to his release papers. I'll stop by again after my rounds."
Carson resisted the urge to slam the door shut after the doctor. He knew Okoko meant well, but what he suggested was something Carson couldn't even bear to think about. He wasn't about to leave Jack alone in some clinic, to the impersonal care of people who didn't know him and didn't really care as long as they got paid to do their job.
He was sick of dead-ends; Jack's condition seemed to have stagnated. Brendan's friends couldn't seem to come up with an antidote for the drug Jack had been administered, and the doctors were clueless on how to help him.
Fighting the anger and helplessness warring inside him, he reached for his phone and pressed two, dialing Roger's number.
Roger answered on the second ring. "Carson? What's up? Everything okay?"
Carson took a deep breath, leaning against the wall for support. He was tired, physically and mentally, and he didn't think that was about to change any time soon. "I need a favor," he said flatly. "Jack's being discharged today. I need clothes, shoes, the usual stuff."
"Shit," Roger murmured. "Hang tight, we'll be right there."
"'Kay." He ended the call and, after making sure Jack was asleep, walked over to the window to watch the falling rain.
# # #
He was still in the same spot when the others arrived.
"Carson?"
He looked at them and something in his expression had Roger rushing over to him and hugging him fiercely. To his embarrassment, Carson felt his eyes filling and hid his face in the crook of Roger's neck.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled miserably.
"Why, because you're human?" Vivian said behind him. "You've been wound tighter than a clock for two weeks now." She rubbed his back soothingly. "Let us take some of the load."
He nodded and broke away from Roger's comforting embrace. "Thanks," he said softly.
"No problem. What did the doctor say, exactly?"
"That they couldn't do anything else. Okoko wanted to give me the name of some clinic where we could take Jack, but I refused."
Brendan cleared his throat. "Actually--"
Carson whirled on him. "Don't you dare!" He took a step closer to the other man. "Don't you even think about it. I don't care what I've got to do, but I won't take Jack to one of those... institutions," he spat the last word. "I'm not giving up on Jack."
Jarod grabbed him by the arms. "Whoa! Calm down, Carson. Brendan didn't mean anything by it."
"Carson!"
Startled by the anxiety in Jackie's voice, Carson looked at her, only to see her and Roger by the bed, trying to prevent a furious-looking Jack from attacking Brendan.
"Shit." He hurried over, taking over for his friends. He took Jack's face in both hands and forced him to make eye contact. "It's okay, Jack," he said softly, kissing him gently. "Everything's fine."
He kept kissing Jack and murmuring nonsense until Jack was once again sitting on the bed, gaze turned inward.
"Do you have any idea what they would do to Jack in that place?" Carson asked Brendan. "What would happen when he got like this and I wasn't there? He would be back in restraints, or worse."
Brendan collapsed in a chair, looking defeated. "I know. I'm sorry. I was taking the easy way out. It... hurts to see him like this."
"Maybe?" Jarod prompted.
"Maybe I should use it to take Jack back home? For a second opinion? No disrespect to the local doctors, but America is way ahead on health care. I know it would be expensive, but if we found someone to help Jack, I think I could foot the bill for a few months. And I could always... ask my father for more."
"I thought you two weren't speaking," Vivian said.
"We're not. But I bet he'd love to have me crawl back with my tail between my legs to beg for his help. I think that after he made me feel humble enough, he'd give me the money, if only because I'd feel obliged to him." He looked at Jack. "Jack's worth it. And we need to decide what to do about his parents. We should've called them before, but I kept waiting..."
"For Jack to get better," Jackie finished sadly.
Carson sighed. "I'm sorry about my... outburst earlier. I'm not very good at this family thing."
"You're doing fine," Jarod said. "Families have their arguments too, Carson."
"Yeah," Roger said. "I know there's plenty of stuff for us to think about. But for now, we're going to get Jack dressed, and then take you two home. After you've slept for at least twelve hours and eaten a healthy meal, we're all going to sit down and decide what to do. Together."
"Okay," Carson agreed, more out of exhaustion than anything else.
The others went to find the doctor while Carson helped Jack put on a pair of jeans, a sweater and tied his sneakers. That done and with all the paperwork done, they bundled into the two jeeps and drove to the flat.
# # #
Once in the apartment, Carson and Jack took a quick shower together. Jack's listlessness as Carson soaped up his body and washed his hair did nothing to banish the horrible thoughts that plagued him. As much as his heart fought it, his mind was constantly insisting that Jack was never going to get better. That this was as close as they were ever going to get.
Shutting down the water with an angry twist of his hand, he dried them both briskly, and got them both into a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. He guided Jack to the bed, lying down next to him. He watched Jack blink sleepily, fighting slumber, but eventually exhaustion won over and Jack fell asleep.
Carson turned on his side and eased closer, until they were facing each other. He could feel Jack's familiar warmth now, his breath against his cheek, the scent of the soap and the shampoo they had used. As he took in the disheveled hair, the lax lines on the handsome face as Jack slept, Carson felt a rush of affection filling his heart and he knew that no matter what happened in the future this was where he belonged; by Jack's side.
His hand moved on the mattress, covering Jack's. Carson closed his eyes with a weary sigh. For the first time in two weeks his brain cooperated with him and he drifted off easily.
# # #
Carson woke up when something impacted painfully with his face. Instinct had him moving away from the unexpected attack, and before he knew it he was falling off the bed, heart hammering in his chest. Shaking his head to clear the fog in his mind, he sucked in a breath as he realized that Jack was having a nightmare, shouting nonsense at the top of his lungs, fists swinging wildly in the air.
Carson climbed back on the bed, just barely managing to evade the flaying arms, and hugged Jack to his body. "Shh," he soothed. "It was just a nightmare, Jack. You're safe now, you're home. It's okay."
Jack stopped shouting and fighting whatever demons only he could see, and slumped against Carson, still trembling from reaction.
"Everything okay?"
Carson looked up, seeing for the first time that the others were in the room, eyeing them with concern.
"Yeah. Jack just had another nightmare."
"Another?" Jarod asked.
"Yeah. He had two last night at the hospital. I wish I knew if it was a good sign. If he's having nightmares, he must be remembering stuff, right?" Carson asked Brendan, unable to keep the hope from his voice.
Brendan nodded. "I can't say for sure, but that would be my guess, yes. Want me to take a look at your face?"
Carson frowned at the non sequitur, then realized that his left cheek was throbbing; Jack had hit him good. "Maybe some ice?"
Brendan disappeared at his request, returning a minute later with the ice. He placed it gently against Carson's cheek. "There, hold this. It's not too bad. This will help with the swelling."
"Did you manage to get any sleep?" Jackie asked.
Carson looked at the alarm clock and groaned. "Yeah, about two hours worth." He looked at the man in his arms. "At least Jack's gone back to sleep."
"And you should do the same," Roger said.
Carson was about to protest that he was fine and that maybe he should stay up and watch Jack for a while, when a yawn ambushed him. "I guess so," he admitted sheepishly.
He handed the ice back to Brendan and helped Jack to lie back down on the bed, settling down himself with his arms around Jack. Maybe his proximity would prevent any further nightmares.
"Good boy," Vivian teased, while her and Jackie adjusted the covers around them.
Carson laughed. "You're turning into a mother hen, Viv. If word gets out you'll lose your tough chick reputation."
She cuffed him on the head. "Cut it, pipsqueak, or I'll turn you over my knee."
Carson leered playfully as the others laughed. "Promises, promises."
Vivian snorted. "Shut up and sleep already."
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, and promptly fell asleep.
# # #
After almost twelve hours sleep and a home-cooked meal courtesy of Jarod, Carson had felt a sudden need to stretch his legs, to breathe some fresh air instead of being cooped up inside four walls. In the last weeks he had seen little but Jack's hospital room, and it felt good to just relax for a while. There would be time to decide Jack's future once they returned to the flat.
Carson loved nights like this. It had stopped raining just minutes before they left the Jungle Tavern, so there were very few people out. The air felt crisp and clean, and even in the city there was that earthy after-the-rain scent that made him think of green grass and summer days.
He risked a glance at his silent companion. Jack was walking beside him, quiet as usual, but Carson thought with a touch of wistfulness that perhaps Jack was inhaling a little deeper himself, enjoying their little escapade as much as Carson. Brendan had hit the roof when Carson suggested this walk, but in the end he--and the others--had agreed it might be beneficial. Even if Jack wasn't fully aware of his surroundings, he was surely to miss the freedom of being outdoors.
The late night and virtually deserted streets would help Jack to remain calm, and Carson was fairly sure he would be able to restrain Jack in the unlikely event of a violent outburst. Those seemed to be rare now, with the exception of the attack on Roger last week, which had been born of a misunderstanding. Besides, the two of them needed a little time alone, without friends, nurses or doctors around.
They turned a corner and Carson frowned when he saw a Ford had stopped in the middle of the road. If the clunking sound coming from the engine was any indication, the car had stalled and the driver couldn't get it to start again. Carson watched with horrified fascination as a SUV driving in the other lane moved into the intersection at a fast speed. One of its tires suddenly blew, causing the driver to lose control of the vehicle.
"Holy shit," Carson whispered as the SUV smashed violently into the stalled car, which immediately caught on fire. He was frozen in shock when he noticed that Jack was running towards the two vehicles. "Jack! What the hell--"
Left without any choice, Carson followed Jack. They ran to the fiery crash, but it was too late to help the driver of the Ford. If he hadn't died in the crash, the
smoke and flames eating away at the vehicle would have killed him for sure. Inside the SUV were three teenagers; the driver was either dead or unconscious, but both the passenger and the kid in the back were definitely alive, if moving somewhat sluggishly.
Ignoring the fire creeping closer, Jack rushed to the passenger side of the car, while Carson tried to open the driver's door, which wouldn't budge. "Fuck."
Looking around, he saw a loose stone from the sidewalk and used it to break the window, praying he wouldn't end up causing further harm to the young man. He touched the kid's throat, searching for a heart beat. It was faint, but it was there and it was all he needed to know.
Breaking the rest of the window, he noticed the kid didn't have the safety belt on; at the speed they had been going, it was a miracle he hadn't flown through the windshield. Carson half-crawled inside the car hoping to get better leverage to pull the teenager out, feeling small pieces of glass tugging at his shirt and skin.
He startled when a hand on the other side brushed his. Looking up he saw that Jack was holding the passenger through the open window and was ready to pull him out. But what really caught Carson's attention were Jack's eyes. For the first time in weeks Jack was there, really there. No dazed look, no apathy. The hazel eyes shone with intelligence, with life.
With a sense of wonder, knowing now wasn't the time to focus on Jack, Carson grabbed the driver under the arms and pulled him carefully from the car, trying not to worsen any injuries the kid might have suffered in the accident. Carson dragged him between the relative safety of two parked cars some distance away. Jack brought the second teenager, and together they rushed to the now burning car, to the third kid, who was fully awake and shouting out for help.
"Please, help me," the kid shouted, banging on the window. "God, please, I don't want to die like this!"
"Climb into the front seat," Carson said, after he and Jack tried to open the doors on either side of the SUV without success.
"I c-can't," the kid stuttered. "I think my left leg's broken."
"We'll get you out," Carson promised, trying to control his panic.
The Ripple Effect Page 22
