Chapter Text
If Jack hated one thing, then it was hospitals. But in his line of job regular visits were rather inevitable. However, usually he got lucky and it could be dealt with in Phoenix medical. Not this time, though. He had injured his knee quite badly this time. Thus, he was transferred to UCLA to get it repaired. His mood didn’t get any better when after recovering from surgery he was wheeled into a room that was already occupied with one other patient. Usually, he got the luxury of a single, private room. Turned out that the hospital was fully booked. Jack huffed with annoyance, but sucked it up anyway. He would soon be out of that place. No need to blow his head, he decided.
When they got him settled, his curious eyes travelled over to the other patient. A blond teenager, curled up on his side and asleep. His face was sporting an impressive bruise. It circled around his eye and then reached over his cheek down to his jaw. Probably something broken, Jack concluded. He had caused similarly looking bruises himself and winced inwardly at the force that must have hit the kid’s face. He looked a little longer at the sleeping form and then tried to find something else to occupy himself with. Hospital stays were usually boring, at least if Jack was the one who occupied the bed and was not to leave it. He looked around and found the remote for the TV that hung on the wall. He debated whether it would be unfair if he claimed the right over the TV for himself, but one more glance over to the sleeping teenager, Jack decided that he could very well claim it. He took the remote and switched on the TV, flipping channels until he found something that caught his interest. The kid didn’t even stir. The volume of the device didn’t seem to bother him. Jack didn’t care. He was sure that once lunch time was over, Mommy and Daddy would arrive and make sure their little one got the rest that he needed. Inwardly, Jack already prepared for a verbal fight with the ‘rents.
Lunch came and went. It wasn’t the best cuisine Jack had ever had, but it wasn’t too bad as in it would not kill him. Not in the foreseeable future. The second lunch in the room remained untouched. The kid must have woken up at some point, though. Jack saw him shift around. He was also sure that he had noticed Jack’s presence, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Fine for Jack. He wasn’t keen on company either. He was there to rest and recover and to be hopefully released rather sooner than later. He didn’t want to make friends.
After the treys had been cleaned up, a nurse came to check on the teen. She silently talked to him. Jack paid attention to the TV, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity for what went on at the other side of the room so with the trained eyes of an agent, he kept his glance focused on the TV screen while his ears were listening to the sounds that came from the other occupant in the room. He heard shifting sheets and nurse saying quietly: “Just need to check you over. I’ll be as quick as possible.” She then asked the young patient whether he was in pain and needed some more pain killers, maybe an icepack for his face. Both was denied with a “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Alright, but if you need anything, you let us know, okay?” the nurse said and then left. It was quiet again. The teen curled up on his side again, the movement eliciting a hiss of pain. He still had his back to Jack. The teenager wasn’t keen on company either.
It was already afternoon, when the nurse came back with some tea for the occupants of the room. Again, she walked over to the teen and had a quiet conversation with him in which consequence she helped him to sit upright. The kid hissed with the struggle to change is position. His movements were stiff and careful. Jack could tell that the kid must have gotten a hell of a beating. Whoever was responsible for it, he or she had done a thorough job. Jack knew to read those signs, had been on the receiving and then recovering end of such encounters way too often. Heck, it had landed him in UCLA this time. Fortunately, he got away lucky this time with his opponent losing the fight. Once the teen was manoeuvred into an upright position, there was no way of ignoring Jack’s presence any longer, though, and the kid acknowledged it with a shy smile, but then looked away again. For Jack this was all right. He turned his attention back to the TV, while the kid got engrossed in a book the nurse had brought him.
Visiting hours came and went. Only shortly before visiting hours were over, Riley, his daughter by heart, came by to check on him. She apologized for the late visit, but she had been busy, probably with evaluating the data they had collected during the mission and cleaning up the mess Jack and Desi had left behind. She didn’t take any notice of the kid that blended so perfectly into the background that you could easily overlook or even mistake him for a wall. Riley had brought Jack a few of his cloths and helped him to change into them. She then carefully rearranged the pillows behind his back and helped him to prop up his knee back onto the green foam plastic thingy. She even had smuggled some crisps and chocolate in with her. Jack was grateful. He didn’t like hospital cuisine much, but he enjoyed Riley’s company very much. He was convinced that her presence made the pain go away a little faster.
Unfortunately, though, the nurse shooed her out of the room pointing out that it was now time for the patient to rest. Jack wasn’t happy. He protested and told the nurse that he was perfectly fine with the company, because he was bored out of his skull which certainly was not good for his recovery, but the nurse was stern and did not want to hear any of it while pointing out that there was still another patient in the room who, too, needed to rest. Jack sucked it up, hugged Riley goodbye and then let out an annoyed huff.
To get his mind off, Jack picked the remote and switched on the TV again. He cast a look over to the still reading kid who pretended not to notice what went on around him. It was irritating like an itch one wasn’t supposed to scratch, but couldn’t ignore anyway. It raised the urge in Jack to just get a reaction out of the kid for which he asked: “Do you mind?” looking into the direction of the blond teenager who looked up from his book at Jack, to the TV screen and back to Jack. He shrugged his shoulders and then replied: “No, it’s okay,” before he turned his attention back to the book that he was reading. That was a quick conversation and nothing was to be added. Jack stayed silent, but turned the volume of the TV down a little. The silence of the room, although it was occupied with two people, was scary. In fact, if Jack hadn’t seen that there was another person with him, he might not have noticed it otherwise. It got Jack curious. He would have loved to find out what was behind this reserved and coy teenager. Well, it was evening. Visitor hours were over and nobody had been there to check on the kid. That had to speak volumes.
In the evening a doctor came by and checked the kid over. He probed and prodded on the abdomen which elicited a hiss from the kid. Jack found his suspicion of the thorough beating confirmed. There were boot prints on the kid’s chest and his stomach. A white adhesive tape kept some thick gauze in place stretching all along the kid’s abdomen, starting shortly under his sternum and going all the way down to his belly button. The doctor took his stethoscope to listen to the teenager’s lungs. He asked the kid to take a few deep breaths. The teenager tried. He really did, but he winced in pain and thus his breaths remained shallow. The doctor tried it two more times, but there were no deep breaths coming from the kid. With a suspicion in his mind, the doctored measured oxygen level. The teenager knew what was going to happen when the clip was attached to his index finger. The suspicion was confirmed. The levels were too low. The kid could not breathe properly. The doctor’s face grew concerned and he asked: “Are you in pain?” The kid denied it, because he just wanted to be left alone or even better, get out of the facility he was currently caught in. For this he asked: “When can I leave?”
“Not in the next couple of days, sorry, but you need to rest,” the doctor said the concern on his face not disappearing. Jack could see that this wasn’t the answer that this kid wanted to hear and he was right. For which Mac tried another attempt and said: “I can rest better at home.” The doctor remained unimpressed, shook his head and reminded Mac that this was a sentence he heard at least a dozen of times a day. He did not point out what the teen had tried to ignore for now, that there probably was no home to return to. Instead, the doctor added, “We should consider plating your ribs. Your breathing is impeded. They’re shifting and apart from the risk of internal injuries and possible pneumonia, this impedes your recovery and causes you unnecessary pain.” The teen made a face. Obviously, the idea of a surgery was not a very comforting one.
“Can I go home then?” The teen asked hopefully, because he would take every opportunity. The doctor chuckled at his inpatient patient’s antics, but confirmed: “Well, it would certainly enhance the healing process and shorten your stay in our fine facility.” The kid blushed at the comment, because he did not intend to imply that the hospital was not good and the treatment bad. He only hated not being there. Okay, he hated hospitals per se. Not that he had spent much time here, well maybe he had spent more time here than the average teenager his age, but that was not the point. The point was that hospital simply reminded him of certain things which he worked hard on not to be reminded of. He felt the flood of images approach: images from his pale and thin mother, her skin paper like only covering bones, with butterfly needles and IVs sticking out of both of her arms and…He closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath and shoved the growing images back into the back of his head where they were deemed to rest in peace forever. The doctor gave the teenager another once over, before he left the two patients.
When the doctor was gone, Jack turned around, looked at the teenager and said: “Not a big fan of these hospitals either, hu?” Nobody liked hospitals and the teenager was no different. Jack felt for him. He wasn’t a fan of these facilities either. The kid looked up, a little confused about being addressed from a stranger, but he put on his polite face and replied: “No, not really,” then he turned his head away, concentrating on his book and Jack got the message. The kid wasn’t much of a talker and had no intention in small talk. Jack dozed off during some random TV show. He woke up just in time for dinner which once more remained untouched by the youngest occupant of the room. Jack offered him something of his loot Riley had brought him earlier, but also this offer was declined. At that point, Jack had to work hard to not ask the kid what was wrong with him, because there had to be more apart from the beating which he had obviously gotten.
But Jack also saw the kid’s body language. It was screaming and not because of the physical abuse that was so prone marked out on the skin. The kid obviously wasn’t happy about the company. Mac felt awfully uncomfortable with the stranger in the room.