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more_flexibleIt had taken less adjusting than he'd thought, living with Logan. There had been the odd moments of panic where he questioned what he'd done and if it was right and whether it would ruin them, but then he would catch a glimpse of the man coming home from surfing or would come home himself from work and slip into bed with him and all the doubts were just gone. Plus, it meant they could do things together, like hunting. After all the squid there had been, Jack was so sick of seafood he didn't even want to go to the ocean. He decided Thursday night that he'd go hunting instead and petitioned Logan to join him. Hunting meant they could sleep in later, which always went over well, and so Friday after breakfast they had set out for the mountain, beyond Dale's hut and into an area Jack was sure he'd been, but was unfamiliar with.
Having brought food and water, a few first aid supplies (just in case), rope, ammunition, and their rifles, Jack walked at a leisurely pace with the other man, hacking at the undergrowth with the machete. It was obvious he was enjoying himself. Hunting was always more of a gamble than fishing. If they came back with nothing, it would mean Bill would have to rely on the pantry...which wouldn't be the worst thing to happen. As luck would have it, Jack heard a rustling up ahead and tugged Logan's sleeve to get him to stop.
"Up there," he whispered. "You go left and I'll go right. Don't shoot me." He grinned and clapped Logan on the shoulder before carrying his gun at the ready and skulking off into the jungle and out of sight.
Logan quirked a brow, then smirked before nodding and turning away. He still wasn't the best at hitting moving targets, but his time spent practicing with Jack had only made him better. Still, that didn't mean he didn't have his doubts about how useful he was going to be on this hunting trip, and he wondered if Jack had sent him off to stop him from screwing things up. Not that he cared, it was still nice to just be there with the other man, doing something that didn't involve being naked or hunting sharks. It was reassuring almost. Proof that they could make this thing work, even now that they were living together.
He wandered in the direction Jack had indicated for a while, listening closely and moving as quietly as he could manage. To be honest, he wasn't even sure what they were hunting, and he wondered if he was just supposed to shoot the first bit of wildlife that came at him.
Jack moved slowly through the undergrowth until he spotted what it was making the noise. He'd hoped for a deer of some sort, or a wild boar. It was a tapir, though. Slow and stupid, generally. Except...except he heard a noise behind him and looked, spying the small animal with stripes and dots and he sighed in resignation. The mother took note of the sound and headed toward him, so Jack stepped quickly out of the way so he wasn't between the mother and her baby. Moving fast meant he wasn't really watching where he was going and in a patch of jungle floor that was only covered with the lowest growing plants, he took one hard step and felt the ground give way beneath him. Too surprised to even cry out, Jack fell, landed hard, and was wrapped in a warm, heavy darkness just before he completely lost consciousness.
It felt as if hours had rolled by, though Logan knew it couldn't have been that long, and when nothing, not even a damn bird, came his way, Logan sighed and began to head back the way he'd came. It wasn't part of the mountain he was familiar with really, and for a while he thought he'd simply made a wrong turn along the way, after all, Jack wouldn't have wandered that far from where they'd started, right? He wouldn't have just carried on his way, leaving Logan to find his own way back.
...Alright, he probably would, but he'd come back eventually, and Logan sighed as he sat down on a nearby stump.
Time kept ticking by, and Logan's temper grew shorter and shorter, and eventually the younger man got to his feet again. "Jack!" he yelled, the hunt long forgotten as he swore under his breath and began to mutter things like 'fucking prick' and son of a bitch' under his breath, along with a few more creative insults. "Jack!" he called out again, starting off in the direction he thought the other man had originally headed.
It took real effort for Jack to rouse himself, and as soon as he did, he regretted it. His head was throbbing and so was his wrist. He took a breath and that was worse than the pain. It smelled cool and damp, of musty dirt and the faint hint of piss that gave away the presence of bats somewhere in the distant dark. That was what really did him in, though...the dark. The light spilled in from a hole above him, dappled as it filtered down through the canopy. He was just outside the pool of light, though, and the darkness was so solid and so deep he was sure it would swallow him alive. Panic rose from his chest to his throat and he felt like something was crushing his neck, choking off the breath. His hand shook- in fact, he was shaking all over- and his eyes locked on a point of light.
In the darkness he had stared at the nearly dead embers of the fire, each tiny speck of crimson that flared through the black a point he could focus on. Don't panic, Rose's voice had told him, as clearly as if she'd been standing there. Don't panic. Right. That was not possible.
He managed to get to his knees, then to his feet. The opening was still easily two or three feet above his head, but it may as well have been a kilometer. He couldn't get out and the darkness and silence and scent of this hole -cave- he'd found himself in cinched around him and finally squeezed a desperate and terrified scream from him.
The sound was faint, but clear, and Logan froze for a moment before starting off in the direction it had come from. He could see a path that Jack had obviously been clearing, and he followed it as he called out again. "Jack?!"
When the trail seemed to vanish, he went still again, listening for something that would indicate where the other man was, he didn't have Jack's tracking talents. He was no boy scout, he had no training, but something told him to keep going, just a little deeper off the path of cleared plant life. His heart pounded, and he said the other man's name again, quieter this time, slowing to a stop when he saw something up ahead. Some of the plant life had been crushed, but not cleared, and just behind it was what looked like some sort of ditch. Though closer examination showed it to be something more.
"Jack?" he called out again.
He was panting, eyes darting around, away from the light and into the inky black around him. He could practically hear footsteps. Could hear claws. No, that was teeth. No, no it was...
Jack?
Looking up, something blocked the light a little and even though it was in shadow, the sight of Logan and the sound of his voice was enough to get the panic to ease off a fraction.
"Get me out of here!" he screamed, his voice cracking, laced with desperation and terror. "Logan! Logan, please! I can't...I..."
He would never admit it, not even long after the fact, but there was a long moment where Logan honestly had no idea what to do. Torn between climbing down and running for help, he stood still and unsure for a long moment before snapping out of it.
"I will, okay? I will, just calm down, alright?" he said, trying to keep his tone low and calm. "Are you alright? Did you break anything? Are you bleeding?" he asked, slipping his backpack from his shoulders and kneeling down as he sorted through what they'd brought along.
It wasn't much, but the length of rope and the first aid supplies were better than nothing. Looking down, Logan tried to judge just how deep the hole was compared to how much rope he'd brought. It looked as if it might reach, but it was home made, and besides, if Jack was badly injured, he wasn't sure it would be much help anyway.
Just calm down? Easier said than done. He had broken out in a cold sweat and was certain any second he was going to- no, not any second, now. Jack turned away and doubled over, retching and heaving until there was nothing left. Tremors overtook him and he couldn't be bothered to hide any of it. Logan knew, but he didn't really know. Jack didn't go into the caves and he was careful to keep this sort of thing under control. The scent and air and darkness and pain, though, it was all too much. It was a confrontation with things he'd diligently avoided for over two years.
"Please," he begged weakly, on the verge of tears. "I'm...fine. Just get me out."
The way Jack sounded, the way his voice seemed to break, it hurt in a way Logan wasn't expecting. Suddenly it didn't matter how he did it, he just knew he had to get Jack out. He needed to make sure he was okay. How many times had Jack looked after him? From climbing trees to dragging him out of the snow, Jack had always been there, and Now Logan was going to make sure the other man always knew he'd be there for him as well.
He knotted one end of the rope to a nearby tree for extra support, and then carefully tossed the rest down the hole. He grabbed some of the slack and held it in both hands, his feet braced and ready to pull.
"Climb up as much as you can, and I'll pull you up the rest of the way, alright?" he called out, hesitating and then changing his mind. Jack wasn't in any sort of state to be climbing, and Logan quickly corrected himself. "No- wait, just... Just tie it around your waist and hold on, I'm going to pull until you're high enough to get out, okay?"
Jack reached for the rope, ready to climb the thing hand over hand. The first time he really pulled with the left, though, it was clear that wasn't going to be an option. He barked out a cry of pain and brought his hand to his body, cradling it lightly. Fucking great, he though. First my shoulder, now my wrist. Any more of this crap and his left arm would be useless for good.
"Okay," he called up, grabbing the end of the rope and looping it so he could start tying it. He was ginger with his hand, but with a concentrated effort that not only got the rope affixed but also tore his thoughts away from the fear, he got it knotted and secured.
"Okay!" he called again, giving the rope a little jerk and then reaching for his rifle to sling it over his shoulder. "Go!"
It wasn't easy, nothing like movies and TV where the hero pulled the victim to safety with grace and ease. Jack wasn't a small man, and it took all of Logan's strength as he began to pull hard and step backwards. He swore under his breath, and strained himself as he kept pulling, praying the rope wouldn't give out.
"Jack, you doing alright?" he called, nearly losing his footing as the rope slipped an inch. He held on tight though, digging his heels into the dirt and pulling again.
The answer wasn't much more than a grunt from down the hole. He was fine. Fine. He was fine. He just kept telling himself that and didn't buy it a bit. The abrupt drop made him gasp and then duck his head as debris scattered against him and continued to the bottom of the hole. With Logan pulling, it seemed to take forever, the rope cutting into him, his arm and head throbbing in time with his panicked heartbeat, and yet the light came closer and the darkness sank away beneath his feet and it wasn't long before he had one arm on the edge, pulling himself out into the jungle.
"That wasn't how the plan was supposed to go," he quipped, trying to make light of the situation rather than dwell on the terror.
The moment he was sure Jack was stable, Logan dropped he rope and rushed over. He knelt beside him, moving to untie the rope from around his waist before touching him gently all over. His arms, his shoulders, his face. Soft, light touches that were meant to be soothing and let him see just how hurt the other man was.
"Jack, what the hell happened?" he asked, wincing in sympathy when his fingers found a large bump near the back of Jack's head.
"I fell," he said simply, still dazed a bit. The simplest answer was the obvious one...and also, anything beyond 'I fell' was a mystery. He winced and hissed through his teeth as Logan's fingers found the spot where his head had kissed the stone floor. "That hurt," he continued with a soft honesty that made him sound almost childish. "My wrist hurts, too. I brought my gun up, right? I'm not going back down. Man, my head hurts."
"I couldn't care less about your gun," Logan said, perhaps a bit harsher than he intended. "...I just want to get you home. Do you need to go to the clinic?" he asked softly, holding Jack's arm carefully as he looked at the other man's swollen wrist. "This looks pretty bad, and you must have hit your head damn hard, Jack."
"Yeah. The clinic," he agreed. He was together enough to know he had really cracked his head hard and it wouldn't be a bad idea to at least check in. Not to mention the wrist. That was going to need some attention. Jack nodded slowly and raised his eye to look at Logan. There was a pitiful attempt at a smile, then he leaned in and rested against him. Logan was solid and he was safe. There was nothing wrong. He was fine. He'd been banged up before. Except he couldn't get the dank smell of earth out of his nose and he could almost taste ash and rum.
"Let's get the fuck out of here," he suggested quietly.
Logan could tell there was more going on than Jack was letting on, though he hadn't yet worked out what it was, and he eyed the other man for a long moment before nodding in agreement and helping him to his feet.
It only took a moment to shove their supplies back into his bag, and he deliberately left out some thick gauze, holding it up in show before carefully tugging Jack's bad arm towards himself. "I'm just going to wrap it until we get to the clinic," he told him quietly, starting to wrap the other man's swollen and obviously injured wrist. "If you start getting dizzy or anything while we're walking, you tell me, okay?" he added.
"Yeah, okay," Jack agreed, dizzy as soon as he got to his feet. He kept quiet since he just wanted to get out of the jungle and back to civilization. As soon as Logan was ready, Jack began to walk...the wrong direction. The jungle all looked the same to him but he had the feeling that if they just went downhill, they'd come out where they'd started.
"I just want to go home," he continued, speaking more to himself than Logan. "Get fixed. I'm fine. I am."
It took Logan a long moment to realize they were heading the wrong way. He was so used to simply following Jack no matter where they went that it didn't even occur to him that Jack might be going the wrong way at first. Hooking his arm around the other man's waist, he carefully turned them around, following the path Jack had cleared and going back the way they'd come.
"Yeah, you're doing great," Logan said flatly. "Come on, I'll get you to the clinic. We'll fix you up and get you home, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," he repeated, agreeable to anything so long as it meant moving away. The arm around him was comforting and he simply let Logan guide him while he tried not to think about how much his head hurt or how tired he was. Of course, not needing to concentrate on where he was going or his surroundings meant there was the opportunity for his mind to wander. He had hurt all over when he'd made his way from the caves to the clinic that day. His shoulder had been dislocated and it still made that disgusting popping sound from time to time. He'd been beaten, burned, bruised, terrified. He'd been trussed up and left in the darkness, all alone. And there had been the knife. None of it should have bothered him, he'd had each of those things happen before...individually. It was more the fact that he'd been surprised. Conned. That he'd had absolutely no control of the situation.
And there was still the clarity of memory that only came from scent. Certain scents could bring comfort, or alert to danger. There was always the scent of desire and seduction. But fear...that acrid scent that was bitter on the tongue, that had called all this up. Fear and musty darkness and wet stone and stale air. Once again the problem was that he had no control over this. He'd fallen, he'd had no means of escape, and he was injured. If it hadn't been for Logan, he'd probably still be paralyzed with fear down in that hole, staring up at the light until he died of thirst.
Logan could feel how tense Jack was, and after a while he slowed to a stop. It was a long walk back, and he wanted Jack to take a few breaks along the way. It was the perfect opportunity to ask the other man what exactly was going on. He'd seen the other man bitten by sharks, attacked by squids, stung and poisoned... but he'd never seen him like this. It was more than a little worrying.
"Come on, sit down for a minute," he said, guiding the other man over to a nearby rock and starting to sit with him. "Talk to me," he said quietly.
He sat obediently and as soon as he was settled, he closed his eyes. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked softly, the words coming slowly to the drowsy lips. "I just want to go home. I'm so tired, Logan So tired. I'm sorry this didn't go like we planned. This isn't how I thought we'd spend the day together."
Jack slouched forward a bit, the words coming slower and slower as he drifted off a little. His eyes were heavy and hot and the warm blanket of sleep was so tempting, even though he knew it was incredibly dangerous. After such a blow to the head, sleep was the last thing he ought to do. He had a hard time caring...he was just tired and sore and without the option of getting stoned, sleep was the next best thing to use to try to forget that hole.
"Hey, no, stay alert. We're just resting, not sleeping," Logan said, shaking him gently and stroking his hair. "And you know what I want to talk about, I want to know what's going on with you, I've never seen you this shaken up, man. I want to know what happened down there."
Forcing himself to open his eyes, Jack turned his head to face Logan. His jaw worked and his tongue struggled to form words, but for the longest moment no sound came from his throat. How in the hell could he explain it when all he wanted to do was forget? That was all he'd wanted for more than two years. Everyone had been right, though. He could only push things down and ignore them for so long before they came back to bite him on the ass- harder than if he'd just dealt with it then. But he'd wanted to think House had fixed him. So much for that.
"It smelled," he finally managed to say. "It was a cave and it smelled like a cave and...I...it's nothing. I just got scared." The attempt at a brush off didn't sit well and he knew it had been weak at best, so Jack took a breath and shook his head minutely. "It was dark and it smelled like...I haven't smelled anything like it in a couple years."
Logan didn't need Jack to say anything more, he knew what the other man was trying to say.
Sometimes it was easy to forget what Jack had been through on the island. After all, Jack was- Well, he was Jack. He was strong, brave, he could handle anything. He'd fought in wars, survived torture- he was a hero. But what had happened on the island, well, that was different. Even Logan knew that much. Quietly he leaned in closer, still holding him as he pulled him slightly nearer.
"It's okay," he said quietly, nearly leaning in to kiss the other man's cheek, but stopping short. He wasn't even sure Jack would want to be touched, let alone kissed. "Come on, we can keep going if you're ready to walk again."
He was grateful that Logan let it go so easily. He wasn't in any fit state to be pouring all his thoughts and fears out. If he did it now, he was sure he'd be a basket case by the time they got back and he wouldn't just need his head and arm looked at. They'd probably find some kind of room and some of the heavier drugs.
Jack had remained quiet for most of the hike back, leaning into Logan and hanging on as the younger man guided him through the jungle toward civilization. Henri would be there...or maybe Harry. Jack wasn't sure how late it was, but he knew the clinic rotation back and forth. As long as he concentrated on Logan's closeness and the slogging rhythm of his boots, his thoughts didn't wander far beyond home and help. Some Tylenol, some ice, and some decent rest would do the trick, he thought.
"I'm tired. Can we stop?" he asked in the same small, quiet voice he'd had since they'd left the cave behind. He didn't even notice that the boardwalk was just beyond the trees and the light was brighter than it had been. His focus stayed on simple things. Footsteps. Breathing. His pulse. And, of course, the savior of the day.
Logan could see the boardwalk, but he nodded anyway, guiding Jack over to a fallen tree and letting him sit. "Hey, it's alright," he said softly, rubbing Jack's back through his shirt and watching him closely. "We'll be in the clinic before you know it. We'll fix you up and then take you home. You'll feel better once you get some rest, Jack," he promised, his voice soft and low.
"I'm always going to take care of you, you know that, right? No matter what, I'm going to make sure you're always alright."
"I know," Jack agreed. He was queasy and held his stomach even though there was nothing left. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and the wave of nausea passed. "You shouldn't have to, though..."
He cut that off as the realization hit him- That's what House had always said. It was something he'd have to make a conscious effort to do, but he resolved to stop with the idea that no one should take care of him. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, and the fact that it was Logan made it easier to take.
"...I'm glad that you were there," he admitted. "Good thing you had a plan, or I'd still be there."
"I don't have to," Logan replied seriously. "I do it because I want to." He stroked Jack's hair slowly, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek, the way he hadn't before. "And you would have found a way out, Jack. You always do. You're Jack Harkness. ...You can do anything," he said softly, resting his forehead against the other man's as he held him.
Jack nodded in agreement. Eventually he would have figured something out. When he'd been in Faramir's cave it had taken a few days before he had the plan and the opportunity to get free. Granted, it had required knocking his own shoulder out of joint and groping through the darkness, but like every time before...he'd saved his own skin.
"I can do anything," he repeated, huffing softly in amusement. "You shouldn't put me on a pedestal, Logan. It's just disappointing when you figure out the truth." Case in point- The Doctor. He wasn't even going to think about that whole mess. Not right now.
"It's not a pedestal," Logan assured him. "Anything isn't always a good thing. Sometimes anything is anything but good."
Now wasn't the time to talk about that sort of thing though, and he held the man a moment longer before pulling back to get a better look at him. "I don't see you as some sort of god, Jack. I know you can be weak sometimes. I know you're human. I just have enough faith in you to know that you'll survive in the end. If only 'cause I'll be there to make sure you do."
That brought a more energetic smile to his lips even though his eyes were dark and glassy with fatigue. "Okay. I can live with that," he conceded. "Let's go. I think I just need ice and a nap and I'll be okay. You can play doctor, even if it's not the fun kind of game."
It was a weak attempt, but he was trying. As much as he hurt, the walk had taken the majority of the fear away. Now he was simply tired and in more pain than he was willing to let Logan see. He didn't have a problem with Logan taking care of him- It wasn't that. He was just far too accustomed to keeping whatever was really wrong to himself.
Logan smiled softly, getting to his feet and offering Jack his hand. "Alright," he agreed simply, trying to ignore how worried he truly was beneath his calm exterior.
Jack reached out and took Logan's hand, staring the the way they locked together for a moment before he rose and joined him. Standing was a bad idea and he listed to the side a little as the dizziness overwhelmed him and he gripped Logan hard just to stay on his feet.
"Whoa," he said as it passed. "That was weird. I'm fine though. I am."
Logan instantly held on tighter, pulling him closer to keep him upright. "You're not fine. You're no where near fine. Clinic. Now. I don't care who takes care of you, but you need more than a nap. Come on, hold onto me while we walk. I'll go slow, alright?"
"Uh huh. We'll go slow." If he'd been coherent enough to realize what he was doing, he'd have been truly unsettled by just how agreeable and passive he was being. Logan could have suggested nearly anything and Jack would have gone along with it so long as the younger man sounded sure in his instructions.
"The clinic's a good idea. I hit my head really hard. Harder than I thought, I think," he said, then laughed through his nose. "I thought I think...that's not right, is it? Yeah, I think I gave myself a concussion." Jack grinned and stood a bit straighter and affected an accent remarkably close to the Doctor's. "Don't do anything by halves, do you Jack?"
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I really hope you hit your head," Logan said, guiding Jack over to the boardwalk and starting off towards the clinic. His arm remained around the other man's waist, holding tightly as he guided him and kept him upright, protective and possessive all at once.
He really hoped there was something someone could do for him.
"Those nano-things, you think they'll help at all?" he asked curiously.
"Bots. Nano bots. They'll help, but this is a little beyond what they do. They don't do bones. Or brains. Or windows. And they want every other Tuesday off," Jack rattled off. If it wasn't for the steady thrumming pain he was in, people might assume he was drunk. He was so tired and everything was funny. It needed to be funny, really. He was a master at avoiding things and there was no way he was facing anything until he was behind closed doors and in the comfort of his own place.
"Oh," Logan replied awkwardly. "Right, but- Well, whatever, you'll be okay," he said, more to reassure himself than Jack.
They walked on in silence for a wile after that, Logan's pace picking up slightly as the compound came into view. His arm tightened around Jack again, and he let out a small sound of relief as they started towards the door. "See, we're here, you're gonna be fine," he promised.
Having brought food and water, a few first aid supplies (just in case), rope, ammunition, and their rifles, Jack walked at a leisurely pace with the other man, hacking at the undergrowth with the machete. It was obvious he was enjoying himself. Hunting was always more of a gamble than fishing. If they came back with nothing, it would mean Bill would have to rely on the pantry...which wouldn't be the worst thing to happen. As luck would have it, Jack heard a rustling up ahead and tugged Logan's sleeve to get him to stop.
"Up there," he whispered. "You go left and I'll go right. Don't shoot me." He grinned and clapped Logan on the shoulder before carrying his gun at the ready and skulking off into the jungle and out of sight.
Logan quirked a brow, then smirked before nodding and turning away. He still wasn't the best at hitting moving targets, but his time spent practicing with Jack had only made him better. Still, that didn't mean he didn't have his doubts about how useful he was going to be on this hunting trip, and he wondered if Jack had sent him off to stop him from screwing things up. Not that he cared, it was still nice to just be there with the other man, doing something that didn't involve being naked or hunting sharks. It was reassuring almost. Proof that they could make this thing work, even now that they were living together.
He wandered in the direction Jack had indicated for a while, listening closely and moving as quietly as he could manage. To be honest, he wasn't even sure what they were hunting, and he wondered if he was just supposed to shoot the first bit of wildlife that came at him.
Jack moved slowly through the undergrowth until he spotted what it was making the noise. He'd hoped for a deer of some sort, or a wild boar. It was a tapir, though. Slow and stupid, generally. Except...except he heard a noise behind him and looked, spying the small animal with stripes and dots and he sighed in resignation. The mother took note of the sound and headed toward him, so Jack stepped quickly out of the way so he wasn't between the mother and her baby. Moving fast meant he wasn't really watching where he was going and in a patch of jungle floor that was only covered with the lowest growing plants, he took one hard step and felt the ground give way beneath him. Too surprised to even cry out, Jack fell, landed hard, and was wrapped in a warm, heavy darkness just before he completely lost consciousness.
It felt as if hours had rolled by, though Logan knew it couldn't have been that long, and when nothing, not even a damn bird, came his way, Logan sighed and began to head back the way he'd came. It wasn't part of the mountain he was familiar with really, and for a while he thought he'd simply made a wrong turn along the way, after all, Jack wouldn't have wandered that far from where they'd started, right? He wouldn't have just carried on his way, leaving Logan to find his own way back.
...Alright, he probably would, but he'd come back eventually, and Logan sighed as he sat down on a nearby stump.
Time kept ticking by, and Logan's temper grew shorter and shorter, and eventually the younger man got to his feet again. "Jack!" he yelled, the hunt long forgotten as he swore under his breath and began to mutter things like 'fucking prick' and son of a bitch' under his breath, along with a few more creative insults. "Jack!" he called out again, starting off in the direction he thought the other man had originally headed.
It took real effort for Jack to rouse himself, and as soon as he did, he regretted it. His head was throbbing and so was his wrist. He took a breath and that was worse than the pain. It smelled cool and damp, of musty dirt and the faint hint of piss that gave away the presence of bats somewhere in the distant dark. That was what really did him in, though...the dark. The light spilled in from a hole above him, dappled as it filtered down through the canopy. He was just outside the pool of light, though, and the darkness was so solid and so deep he was sure it would swallow him alive. Panic rose from his chest to his throat and he felt like something was crushing his neck, choking off the breath. His hand shook- in fact, he was shaking all over- and his eyes locked on a point of light.
In the darkness he had stared at the nearly dead embers of the fire, each tiny speck of crimson that flared through the black a point he could focus on. Don't panic, Rose's voice had told him, as clearly as if she'd been standing there. Don't panic. Right. That was not possible.
He managed to get to his knees, then to his feet. The opening was still easily two or three feet above his head, but it may as well have been a kilometer. He couldn't get out and the darkness and silence and scent of this hole -cave- he'd found himself in cinched around him and finally squeezed a desperate and terrified scream from him.
The sound was faint, but clear, and Logan froze for a moment before starting off in the direction it had come from. He could see a path that Jack had obviously been clearing, and he followed it as he called out again. "Jack?!"
When the trail seemed to vanish, he went still again, listening for something that would indicate where the other man was, he didn't have Jack's tracking talents. He was no boy scout, he had no training, but something told him to keep going, just a little deeper off the path of cleared plant life. His heart pounded, and he said the other man's name again, quieter this time, slowing to a stop when he saw something up ahead. Some of the plant life had been crushed, but not cleared, and just behind it was what looked like some sort of ditch. Though closer examination showed it to be something more.
"Jack?" he called out again.
He was panting, eyes darting around, away from the light and into the inky black around him. He could practically hear footsteps. Could hear claws. No, that was teeth. No, no it was...
Jack?
Looking up, something blocked the light a little and even though it was in shadow, the sight of Logan and the sound of his voice was enough to get the panic to ease off a fraction.
"Get me out of here!" he screamed, his voice cracking, laced with desperation and terror. "Logan! Logan, please! I can't...I..."
He would never admit it, not even long after the fact, but there was a long moment where Logan honestly had no idea what to do. Torn between climbing down and running for help, he stood still and unsure for a long moment before snapping out of it.
"I will, okay? I will, just calm down, alright?" he said, trying to keep his tone low and calm. "Are you alright? Did you break anything? Are you bleeding?" he asked, slipping his backpack from his shoulders and kneeling down as he sorted through what they'd brought along.
It wasn't much, but the length of rope and the first aid supplies were better than nothing. Looking down, Logan tried to judge just how deep the hole was compared to how much rope he'd brought. It looked as if it might reach, but it was home made, and besides, if Jack was badly injured, he wasn't sure it would be much help anyway.
Just calm down? Easier said than done. He had broken out in a cold sweat and was certain any second he was going to- no, not any second, now. Jack turned away and doubled over, retching and heaving until there was nothing left. Tremors overtook him and he couldn't be bothered to hide any of it. Logan knew, but he didn't really know. Jack didn't go into the caves and he was careful to keep this sort of thing under control. The scent and air and darkness and pain, though, it was all too much. It was a confrontation with things he'd diligently avoided for over two years.
"Please," he begged weakly, on the verge of tears. "I'm...fine. Just get me out."
The way Jack sounded, the way his voice seemed to break, it hurt in a way Logan wasn't expecting. Suddenly it didn't matter how he did it, he just knew he had to get Jack out. He needed to make sure he was okay. How many times had Jack looked after him? From climbing trees to dragging him out of the snow, Jack had always been there, and Now Logan was going to make sure the other man always knew he'd be there for him as well.
He knotted one end of the rope to a nearby tree for extra support, and then carefully tossed the rest down the hole. He grabbed some of the slack and held it in both hands, his feet braced and ready to pull.
"Climb up as much as you can, and I'll pull you up the rest of the way, alright?" he called out, hesitating and then changing his mind. Jack wasn't in any sort of state to be climbing, and Logan quickly corrected himself. "No- wait, just... Just tie it around your waist and hold on, I'm going to pull until you're high enough to get out, okay?"
Jack reached for the rope, ready to climb the thing hand over hand. The first time he really pulled with the left, though, it was clear that wasn't going to be an option. He barked out a cry of pain and brought his hand to his body, cradling it lightly. Fucking great, he though. First my shoulder, now my wrist. Any more of this crap and his left arm would be useless for good.
"Okay," he called up, grabbing the end of the rope and looping it so he could start tying it. He was ginger with his hand, but with a concentrated effort that not only got the rope affixed but also tore his thoughts away from the fear, he got it knotted and secured.
"Okay!" he called again, giving the rope a little jerk and then reaching for his rifle to sling it over his shoulder. "Go!"
It wasn't easy, nothing like movies and TV where the hero pulled the victim to safety with grace and ease. Jack wasn't a small man, and it took all of Logan's strength as he began to pull hard and step backwards. He swore under his breath, and strained himself as he kept pulling, praying the rope wouldn't give out.
"Jack, you doing alright?" he called, nearly losing his footing as the rope slipped an inch. He held on tight though, digging his heels into the dirt and pulling again.
The answer wasn't much more than a grunt from down the hole. He was fine. Fine. He was fine. He just kept telling himself that and didn't buy it a bit. The abrupt drop made him gasp and then duck his head as debris scattered against him and continued to the bottom of the hole. With Logan pulling, it seemed to take forever, the rope cutting into him, his arm and head throbbing in time with his panicked heartbeat, and yet the light came closer and the darkness sank away beneath his feet and it wasn't long before he had one arm on the edge, pulling himself out into the jungle.
"That wasn't how the plan was supposed to go," he quipped, trying to make light of the situation rather than dwell on the terror.
The moment he was sure Jack was stable, Logan dropped he rope and rushed over. He knelt beside him, moving to untie the rope from around his waist before touching him gently all over. His arms, his shoulders, his face. Soft, light touches that were meant to be soothing and let him see just how hurt the other man was.
"Jack, what the hell happened?" he asked, wincing in sympathy when his fingers found a large bump near the back of Jack's head.
"I fell," he said simply, still dazed a bit. The simplest answer was the obvious one...and also, anything beyond 'I fell' was a mystery. He winced and hissed through his teeth as Logan's fingers found the spot where his head had kissed the stone floor. "That hurt," he continued with a soft honesty that made him sound almost childish. "My wrist hurts, too. I brought my gun up, right? I'm not going back down. Man, my head hurts."
"I couldn't care less about your gun," Logan said, perhaps a bit harsher than he intended. "...I just want to get you home. Do you need to go to the clinic?" he asked softly, holding Jack's arm carefully as he looked at the other man's swollen wrist. "This looks pretty bad, and you must have hit your head damn hard, Jack."
"Yeah. The clinic," he agreed. He was together enough to know he had really cracked his head hard and it wouldn't be a bad idea to at least check in. Not to mention the wrist. That was going to need some attention. Jack nodded slowly and raised his eye to look at Logan. There was a pitiful attempt at a smile, then he leaned in and rested against him. Logan was solid and he was safe. There was nothing wrong. He was fine. He'd been banged up before. Except he couldn't get the dank smell of earth out of his nose and he could almost taste ash and rum.
"Let's get the fuck out of here," he suggested quietly.
Logan could tell there was more going on than Jack was letting on, though he hadn't yet worked out what it was, and he eyed the other man for a long moment before nodding in agreement and helping him to his feet.
It only took a moment to shove their supplies back into his bag, and he deliberately left out some thick gauze, holding it up in show before carefully tugging Jack's bad arm towards himself. "I'm just going to wrap it until we get to the clinic," he told him quietly, starting to wrap the other man's swollen and obviously injured wrist. "If you start getting dizzy or anything while we're walking, you tell me, okay?" he added.
"Yeah, okay," Jack agreed, dizzy as soon as he got to his feet. He kept quiet since he just wanted to get out of the jungle and back to civilization. As soon as Logan was ready, Jack began to walk...the wrong direction. The jungle all looked the same to him but he had the feeling that if they just went downhill, they'd come out where they'd started.
"I just want to go home," he continued, speaking more to himself than Logan. "Get fixed. I'm fine. I am."
It took Logan a long moment to realize they were heading the wrong way. He was so used to simply following Jack no matter where they went that it didn't even occur to him that Jack might be going the wrong way at first. Hooking his arm around the other man's waist, he carefully turned them around, following the path Jack had cleared and going back the way they'd come.
"Yeah, you're doing great," Logan said flatly. "Come on, I'll get you to the clinic. We'll fix you up and get you home, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," he repeated, agreeable to anything so long as it meant moving away. The arm around him was comforting and he simply let Logan guide him while he tried not to think about how much his head hurt or how tired he was. Of course, not needing to concentrate on where he was going or his surroundings meant there was the opportunity for his mind to wander. He had hurt all over when he'd made his way from the caves to the clinic that day. His shoulder had been dislocated and it still made that disgusting popping sound from time to time. He'd been beaten, burned, bruised, terrified. He'd been trussed up and left in the darkness, all alone. And there had been the knife. None of it should have bothered him, he'd had each of those things happen before...individually. It was more the fact that he'd been surprised. Conned. That he'd had absolutely no control of the situation.
And there was still the clarity of memory that only came from scent. Certain scents could bring comfort, or alert to danger. There was always the scent of desire and seduction. But fear...that acrid scent that was bitter on the tongue, that had called all this up. Fear and musty darkness and wet stone and stale air. Once again the problem was that he had no control over this. He'd fallen, he'd had no means of escape, and he was injured. If it hadn't been for Logan, he'd probably still be paralyzed with fear down in that hole, staring up at the light until he died of thirst.
Logan could feel how tense Jack was, and after a while he slowed to a stop. It was a long walk back, and he wanted Jack to take a few breaks along the way. It was the perfect opportunity to ask the other man what exactly was going on. He'd seen the other man bitten by sharks, attacked by squids, stung and poisoned... but he'd never seen him like this. It was more than a little worrying.
"Come on, sit down for a minute," he said, guiding the other man over to a nearby rock and starting to sit with him. "Talk to me," he said quietly.
He sat obediently and as soon as he was settled, he closed his eyes. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked softly, the words coming slowly to the drowsy lips. "I just want to go home. I'm so tired, Logan So tired. I'm sorry this didn't go like we planned. This isn't how I thought we'd spend the day together."
Jack slouched forward a bit, the words coming slower and slower as he drifted off a little. His eyes were heavy and hot and the warm blanket of sleep was so tempting, even though he knew it was incredibly dangerous. After such a blow to the head, sleep was the last thing he ought to do. He had a hard time caring...he was just tired and sore and without the option of getting stoned, sleep was the next best thing to use to try to forget that hole.
"Hey, no, stay alert. We're just resting, not sleeping," Logan said, shaking him gently and stroking his hair. "And you know what I want to talk about, I want to know what's going on with you, I've never seen you this shaken up, man. I want to know what happened down there."
Forcing himself to open his eyes, Jack turned his head to face Logan. His jaw worked and his tongue struggled to form words, but for the longest moment no sound came from his throat. How in the hell could he explain it when all he wanted to do was forget? That was all he'd wanted for more than two years. Everyone had been right, though. He could only push things down and ignore them for so long before they came back to bite him on the ass- harder than if he'd just dealt with it then. But he'd wanted to think House had fixed him. So much for that.
"It smelled," he finally managed to say. "It was a cave and it smelled like a cave and...I...it's nothing. I just got scared." The attempt at a brush off didn't sit well and he knew it had been weak at best, so Jack took a breath and shook his head minutely. "It was dark and it smelled like...I haven't smelled anything like it in a couple years."
Logan didn't need Jack to say anything more, he knew what the other man was trying to say.
Sometimes it was easy to forget what Jack had been through on the island. After all, Jack was- Well, he was Jack. He was strong, brave, he could handle anything. He'd fought in wars, survived torture- he was a hero. But what had happened on the island, well, that was different. Even Logan knew that much. Quietly he leaned in closer, still holding him as he pulled him slightly nearer.
"It's okay," he said quietly, nearly leaning in to kiss the other man's cheek, but stopping short. He wasn't even sure Jack would want to be touched, let alone kissed. "Come on, we can keep going if you're ready to walk again."
He was grateful that Logan let it go so easily. He wasn't in any fit state to be pouring all his thoughts and fears out. If he did it now, he was sure he'd be a basket case by the time they got back and he wouldn't just need his head and arm looked at. They'd probably find some kind of room and some of the heavier drugs.
Jack had remained quiet for most of the hike back, leaning into Logan and hanging on as the younger man guided him through the jungle toward civilization. Henri would be there...or maybe Harry. Jack wasn't sure how late it was, but he knew the clinic rotation back and forth. As long as he concentrated on Logan's closeness and the slogging rhythm of his boots, his thoughts didn't wander far beyond home and help. Some Tylenol, some ice, and some decent rest would do the trick, he thought.
"I'm tired. Can we stop?" he asked in the same small, quiet voice he'd had since they'd left the cave behind. He didn't even notice that the boardwalk was just beyond the trees and the light was brighter than it had been. His focus stayed on simple things. Footsteps. Breathing. His pulse. And, of course, the savior of the day.
Logan could see the boardwalk, but he nodded anyway, guiding Jack over to a fallen tree and letting him sit. "Hey, it's alright," he said softly, rubbing Jack's back through his shirt and watching him closely. "We'll be in the clinic before you know it. We'll fix you up and then take you home. You'll feel better once you get some rest, Jack," he promised, his voice soft and low.
"I'm always going to take care of you, you know that, right? No matter what, I'm going to make sure you're always alright."
"I know," Jack agreed. He was queasy and held his stomach even though there was nothing left. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself and the wave of nausea passed. "You shouldn't have to, though..."
He cut that off as the realization hit him- That's what House had always said. It was something he'd have to make a conscious effort to do, but he resolved to stop with the idea that no one should take care of him. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, and the fact that it was Logan made it easier to take.
"...I'm glad that you were there," he admitted. "Good thing you had a plan, or I'd still be there."
"I don't have to," Logan replied seriously. "I do it because I want to." He stroked Jack's hair slowly, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek, the way he hadn't before. "And you would have found a way out, Jack. You always do. You're Jack Harkness. ...You can do anything," he said softly, resting his forehead against the other man's as he held him.
Jack nodded in agreement. Eventually he would have figured something out. When he'd been in Faramir's cave it had taken a few days before he had the plan and the opportunity to get free. Granted, it had required knocking his own shoulder out of joint and groping through the darkness, but like every time before...he'd saved his own skin.
"I can do anything," he repeated, huffing softly in amusement. "You shouldn't put me on a pedestal, Logan. It's just disappointing when you figure out the truth." Case in point- The Doctor. He wasn't even going to think about that whole mess. Not right now.
"It's not a pedestal," Logan assured him. "Anything isn't always a good thing. Sometimes anything is anything but good."
Now wasn't the time to talk about that sort of thing though, and he held the man a moment longer before pulling back to get a better look at him. "I don't see you as some sort of god, Jack. I know you can be weak sometimes. I know you're human. I just have enough faith in you to know that you'll survive in the end. If only 'cause I'll be there to make sure you do."
That brought a more energetic smile to his lips even though his eyes were dark and glassy with fatigue. "Okay. I can live with that," he conceded. "Let's go. I think I just need ice and a nap and I'll be okay. You can play doctor, even if it's not the fun kind of game."
It was a weak attempt, but he was trying. As much as he hurt, the walk had taken the majority of the fear away. Now he was simply tired and in more pain than he was willing to let Logan see. He didn't have a problem with Logan taking care of him- It wasn't that. He was just far too accustomed to keeping whatever was really wrong to himself.
Logan smiled softly, getting to his feet and offering Jack his hand. "Alright," he agreed simply, trying to ignore how worried he truly was beneath his calm exterior.
Jack reached out and took Logan's hand, staring the the way they locked together for a moment before he rose and joined him. Standing was a bad idea and he listed to the side a little as the dizziness overwhelmed him and he gripped Logan hard just to stay on his feet.
"Whoa," he said as it passed. "That was weird. I'm fine though. I am."
Logan instantly held on tighter, pulling him closer to keep him upright. "You're not fine. You're no where near fine. Clinic. Now. I don't care who takes care of you, but you need more than a nap. Come on, hold onto me while we walk. I'll go slow, alright?"
"Uh huh. We'll go slow." If he'd been coherent enough to realize what he was doing, he'd have been truly unsettled by just how agreeable and passive he was being. Logan could have suggested nearly anything and Jack would have gone along with it so long as the younger man sounded sure in his instructions.
"The clinic's a good idea. I hit my head really hard. Harder than I thought, I think," he said, then laughed through his nose. "I thought I think...that's not right, is it? Yeah, I think I gave myself a concussion." Jack grinned and stood a bit straighter and affected an accent remarkably close to the Doctor's. "Don't do anything by halves, do you Jack?"
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I really hope you hit your head," Logan said, guiding Jack over to the boardwalk and starting off towards the clinic. His arm remained around the other man's waist, holding tightly as he guided him and kept him upright, protective and possessive all at once.
He really hoped there was something someone could do for him.
"Those nano-things, you think they'll help at all?" he asked curiously.
"Bots. Nano bots. They'll help, but this is a little beyond what they do. They don't do bones. Or brains. Or windows. And they want every other Tuesday off," Jack rattled off. If it wasn't for the steady thrumming pain he was in, people might assume he was drunk. He was so tired and everything was funny. It needed to be funny, really. He was a master at avoiding things and there was no way he was facing anything until he was behind closed doors and in the comfort of his own place.
"Oh," Logan replied awkwardly. "Right, but- Well, whatever, you'll be okay," he said, more to reassure himself than Jack.
They walked on in silence for a wile after that, Logan's pace picking up slightly as the compound came into view. His arm tightened around Jack again, and he let out a small sound of relief as they started towards the door. "See, we're here, you're gonna be fine," he promised.
