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Jack.
People don’t understand how fast water can fill a space.
Jack’s been a firefighter for a long time, and it still never ceases to arrive as an excuse. It’s always something along the lines of ‘thought I had more time’ and ‘didn’t think it would get this deep’ and it’s always some kids and it’s always something stupid like a exploring a storm drain while it’s pouring outside.
Fucking shit .
“How’d you guys even get down here?” He asks, having to almost yell to be heard over the pounding rain. He was already soaked from the call they had earlier, doing the most stereotypical firefighting shit ever - getting a scraggly, bedraggled cat out of a tree.
And now he’s waist deep in storm water, which is disgusting and cold and has lumps of mysterious things that bump up against his legs almost constantly. He is trying very hard not to think of what those things might be.
The kids looks terrified, which is fair. They got pretty lost; the rusted out grate over their access point is easily a half mile away. He assumes they went exploring, and then as the water started to rise, they did the ironically smart thing and found a grate that opened to the street to call for help.
He assume all this, but the kids are already slightly hypothermic, he wants them talking.
One of them, a smaller boy with long blond hair plastered to his face, answers him with teeth chattering audibly. “W-we th-thought it w-wu-would be c-cool.” Jack looks up at the grate, sharing a look with Andy who rolls her eyes. “You thought it would be cool to get stuck in a storm drain?”
“We didn’t plan on getting stuck!” The girl - Tera, according to the backpack she’s clutching - replies to Andy, not in a mean way. More in that terrified, teenage, I don’t actually think anything through way. Bishop and Vic come over with tool to try and cut the metal grate (good luck with that) and Travis shows up finally, several rope lines trailing after him.
“You didn’t plan on getting stuck. In a storm drain. While it’s storming out.” Jack repeats. Travis smiles at the teens but gives Jack a wink. Tera, who’s managed to perch herself on the narrow concrete riser directly under the drain and is therefor the driest out of all of them, seems to realize what the plan is. “We have to walk out of here?!”
“You walked in here.”
“Gibson, go easy on them.” Andy warns, much more gently than he deserves. “It’s going to take us a long time to get through this grate, and we really don’t want to keep you down there.”
Somehow, that reduces the teens to minimal grumbling as Travis and Jack tie the ropes around them. Ruiz is at the end of those ropes, waiting with Warren and the aid car for their young charges. Jack helps Tera down from her perch and together they wade through the water and the muck to a metal door looking thing that’s slightly open, ropes leading back to it.
Jack knocks on the door. “We’re trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty!”
Ruiz pushes it open with a terrible screeching of metal. “My car still had it’s extended warranty Gibson.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Of course it does. Here.” The door - really it’s more of a hole in the wall - is raises up pretty high. He helps the blond boy through first, then Tera, then a lanky dark haired kid. It’s an actual access point - the kids are going up a ladder to escape through a manhole. Travis gestures at their ‘doorway’.
“Ladies first.”
Travis checks to make sure the kids can’t see then flips him the finger. Jack links his fingers together and braces to take Travis’ weight.
Travis has just gotten to the door, swinging one leg through to stabilize himself, and is reaching down for Jack when they hear it. A far off rumble that has both of them stopping their movement to look up the tunnel. The tunnel that curves away from their little door in both directions.
“Montgomery,” Jack starts, slightly unsure. “Was that…” Looking up, he finds Travis’ face has paled a few shades. The water at Jack’s feet starts moving faster and there’s a breeze all of a sudden.
“Jack,” Travis breathes. He’s shucked off his helmet and jacket, tossed them both on the other side of the door. “Gibson, give me your hand.”
He turns to do just that, because he’s got no interest being down here any longer, except then Andy is yelling something from the drain grate, making Jack hesitate. Not long, just enough to figure out what she’s saying, and by then it’s too late.
“Storm surge!”
“Jack!” Travis screams for him, but there’s no time. None at all.
Naturally, Jack does the stupid thing. He reaches up, grabs Travis’ leg, and shoves him through the opening to the otherside. He’s just able to shut it when the water hits him.
…
The fun part of this is that he doesn’t hit his head again. So that’s nice.
The less fun part of that, is that he is fully conscious of the fact that he’s going to drown, and it’s going to happen quickly. The drain will probably spit his body out somewhere in one of those huge catches before the ocean, where he won’t be found until he’s black and rotten.
Or maybe he won’t be found at all. Maybe he’ll just be washed into the ocean, never to be seen again.
Poetic. He’d really like to breathe.
The initial rush lifted him and slammed him against the door he was previously trying to go through. By some miracle, he was able to grab onto one of the metal rungs and is not clinging to it for his life. Literally.
Half mile. A half mile before the end of the tunnel, and he’s already low on air.
He could swear he hears pounding on the door he’s clinging to. It better not be Montgomery. Jack shoved him in there to be safe. As in, climb up the ladder and get out of there, get on relatively dry ground, safe .
Not trying to open the door again, an impossible task, seeing as there’s hundreds of gallons of water pressing it closed right now.
But not…not filling the room all the way.
Something hits his side, making him twist. He scrabbles heavy feet against the wall, pushing himself higher in a purely instinctual response, and somehow, someway, his head breaches air.
Coughing and sputtering in the pitch black, Jack realizes what’s happened.
The area around the grate is bigger. It’s slightly bigger than the tunnel leading to it and away. Which means there’s the tiniest pocket of air where he is now, and judging by the faint beams of light to his left, there’s some room under the grate as well.
“Jack!” That garbled voice sounds like Andy. “ Jack!”
“Yeah, yeah I’m here!” He yells back, unhopeful that they hear him. There’s a decent amount of distance between him and the grate, but it’s not a half mile of pipe, so it’s what he’s got. “Andy!”
“ Gibson !” Even above all the nose, he can hear the panic and relief in Montgomery’s voice. They must’ve dragged him out of the manhole. “Gibson, we’re going to thread through a rope!”
“Copy,” he says to himself, realizing that he’s starting to shake. The water is cold.
A dark blue and white speckled rope is not the easiest thing to see even under normal circumstances, but it’s nearly impossible to see it in mud brown stormwater. Even with the lights being shown through the grate, he can’t really see much.
It takes him a long second to realize 19 is yelling for him again. The rope is through. He must’ve zoned out. “Andy I can’t- how- if I let go of the door there’s nothing keeping me in this room!” He yells. He can see the rope coming through the grate, but it disappears just as quickly as the light.
There’s surely some conversation happening above him, all of them desperate for a solution but none more so than Jack who’d really enjoy not dying. Even if the rope was floating, maybe he could hook it somehow but-
The thought triggers an idea in his brain. Hook . He could hook himself to the handle and hope to god it holds. That would at least free up his hands to search for the rope. He’s already in a harness, a just-in-case/protocol measurement for their water involved rescued.
“-hear us? Jack!”
“Still here!” He yells to Andy, struggling with numb fingers to get his largest carabiner hooked to the handle. “Send the rope again!”
A different rope - someone got smart and grabbed a bright yellow one - snakes back into the water. He tentatively lets go with one hand, fishing for it. Still no good. The carabiner is holding and the handle is holding and he’s running out of time.
Spitting out disgusting tasting water, Jack leans out into the water even more. Andy or whoever is up there is tugging on the rope, trying to keep it afloat. His eyes have gotten more used to the darkness, and he’s able to pick it out closer to him. They keep pulling at it, sharp tugs then letting it loose, and finally he sees it close to him.
He can’t reach it. “Andy!”
“We’re here Jack, we’re here! Can you reach it?!”
“I can get it!” he calls back, shivering violently now. “But I have to let go of the door!”
There’s a deafening silence from his team, only the sound of rushing water filling his ears. “Andy?!”
Travis is the one who replied. “Don’t miss!”
Yeah. Cute.
He misses the rope, he’s as good as dead.
Andy tells him they’re working getting the grate off. Jack focuses on the problem at hand.
Get the rope. He can get the rope.
He takes a breath, ensures he has a decent grip on the handle and unhooks himself. The tether gave him a modicum of stability, and with it now gone, he’s anxious to for that reassurance to be returned.
The rope bobs under the water and stays there. Jack barely resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. “Andy, I can’t-” he pauses. There’s a strange- there’s something-
His eyes widen. “Hope you guys are ready!”
Ruiz yells back, “Ready Lieutenant!” right as Jack takes the plunge.
He doesn’t plan on going underwater, but it ends up being out of his realm of decision making the second he lets go of the handle. He pushed with his feet off the wall, using everything he’s got, but the water is way to powerful for him to go very far.
Lucky for him, a particularly gnarled branch is the thing that’s weighed down the rope. It got caught enough that when Jack is able to grab the stick with one hand, it pulls the rope with it.
He grabs the rope. It immediately slips from his hand.
A garbled yell of panic slips past of his lips, a stupid idea since he’s totally submerged. Water floods his mouth immediately, some forcing its way down his throat. He rolls his wrist in a circle, getting the rope around his arm. The stick falls away, allowing his other hand to find purchase.
It all happens in a few seconds, and then the rope and him are being pulled through the water. The second the feeling around his fingers change from cold, thick water to air, he’s reaching upwards, scrabbling for purchase. He finds wet metal. The grate.
He wraps one hand around it and comes up for air, gagging and coughing. Once he’s sure his grip is enough he lets go of the rope to thread his fingers through the grate with his other hand.
“-ear me?! Jack!”
“I’m- ah , fuck - I’m here, I’m here.” He sputters, still spitting out water. Travis is above him, Andy, Bishop, and Vic all crowding around to get a view of him. Lucky for him, Vic and Bishop are trying to work out how to best cut through the metal.
Travis’ gloves fingers cover Jack’s numb ones and they manage eye contact despite the pouring rain and rushing water surrounding Jack. “You alright?”
Jack glares up at him. “Do I- d-do I look alright?!” He stutters. He’s so cold now, whether from the water or shock he’s not sure.
Travis gives him a relieved smile. “Well you look better than you would if you got washed down the pipe, that’s for sure.” Andy nudges him, hands still tight around the rope. “Hey, you have your harness on right?”
Jack doesn’t grace that with an answer. Travis moves along without one anyway. “We need to get the rope through your harness. The second the water coming through becomes more than whats going out that rooms going to fill up fast, and we want to focus on you breathing, not clinging to some metal.”
“Agreed.” He chatters. “B-but-”
“Wrap it around your wrist,” Andy instructs. “We’ll hold you here, but just in case you slip you’ll be able to stay tethered.”
He can do this. Getting here was the hard part, this is child’s play. He loops the rope around his wrist again, knowing as much as Andy that if he slips again, the rope is just as likely to tear into his wrist as it is to slip loose.
Once he’s got it through though, Travis is able to get a decent grip on his hand, so at least he doesn’t have to deal with holding all of his weight against the current pulling at him.
It takes a long time, too long of a time if his aching muscles and wavering focus is anything to go by, but somehow through a lot of fumbling he gets the rope tied to his harness. Bishop and Vic have been joined by Ruiz and they’ve cut through most of the joints as well.
The problem is that of unequal flow. The water entering the room has been slowly overwhelming the amount leaving, and Jack is running out of space. His head is cloudy with fear and cold and he’s thinking about asking for a tube or something he can use as a snorkel because he’s choking for air at this point.
“ Jack ! Jack, listen to me!” Travis is there, squeezing his fingers. Jack can’t open his eyes. “Listen we’ve almost got it off, but we can’t finish the job with you right underneath it! We’re gonna loosen the rope a bit, you’re gonna hold your breath while we break the last joint, and then we’re gonna get you out, okay?!”
He doesn’t really have a choice. The water is completely filling the chamber now, and its a matter of seconds before it starts bubbling up out of the grate onto the street. Jack doesn’t have air either way.
He squeezes Travis’ back, hoping he understands, and goes under again.
The rope loosens gently and he lets go of the grate, dragging the pads of his fingers on the concrete ceiling as the water tries to drag him away. The rope holds him once they decide he’s far enough away. He can feel the vibrations of the saw or whatever they’re using for the final joint.
Any second. Any second they’ll have him back up. He’ll probably have to go to the hospital, might even get a lovely bought of pneumonia from this, but it’s alright. They’ll get him out of here.
Any second.
He taps his fingers against the concrete. He’s not shaking anymore.
They’ll get him out. He trusts them. It probably hasn’t even been that long but he feels- he feels like it’s been hours. His lungs certainly feel like it’s been forever since he was able to breathe freely.
The rope tightens slightly, and his heart jumps to his throat at the tension. They’re going to pull him out now, yes, but-
But there’s nothing. There’s nothing and he really can’t breathe and he can’t think and it’s just darkness and cold and he doesn’t know if he’s awake or asleep or if his eyes are open or closed. He doesn’t know if they’re there anymore.
The feeling of the rope’s tension falls away and Jack sinks into the dark.
…
Travis .
“...twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty!”
“Hold compressions, check for pulse.” Travis sits back, panting with the effort of CPR. Andy is sitting back, having already done her turn. Ben had to pull her off to switch with Vic, who in turn traded with him.
The aid car they had took the kids. The next one isn’t going to be at the scene for another ten minutes. “Warren-”
Ben hangs his head. “No pulse.”
Travis leans forward, resuming CPR. The ribs that Andy and Vic broke shift under his hands. He grits his teeth against the sensation and keeps counting.
“Travis.”
He shakes his head. “Not happening Theo.”
“Montgomery-”
“No!” Travis snaps at his captain, continuing with his task. “We are not stopping, Ruiz!”
Andy is clinging to Bishops hand, the blond still standing but looking shell shocked. Vic is to his right, standing behind Ben who’s looking at Travis with- with pity , with grief, like it’s over already.
“Montgomery.” Theo tries again, as gentle as the man can be.
“Protocol says that we don’t stop resuscitation efforts until qualified medical persons take over or call time of death. And no one here has the authority to make that call!” Travis yells, pointedly glaring at those around him. He shakes his head. “No, I’m not losing another one.”
Ben nods shortly, leaning forward to stabilize Jack’s head again. “He’s hypothermic.” Ben adds, tilting Jack’s chin up to get his airway aligned. “Even if- he needs to be warmed up at Grey-Sloan before they can-”
Jack’s entire body rocks with the force of Travis’ compressions. Andy sobs quietly and Vic makes her way to her side to comfort her. Ben is right though.
They can’t declare him dead until he’s warm and dead. And Jack has to be at Grey-Sloan for that to happen and until there’s an aid car to get him there, Travis is going to make sure there’s blood circulating his system and there’s oxygen in his lungs.
“Let me check for pulse again,” Ben orders, digging his fingers into Jack’s neck under his jaw.
They got him out of that drainage tunnel. After the self-sacrificing idiot tossed Travis to safety and the water came, Travis was sure that they lost him. There’s no way that Jack would’ve survived the trip to the storm drains outflow opening, and even if he did, Station 19 wouldn’t have been able to find him.
He would’ve drowned for sure. And then he did anyway, because they were too fucking slow getting that grate open.
They didn’t have the time they thought they did. Bishop was swearing every cuss word he knew and then some he didn’t, but it didn’t make the last joint cut through any faster. By the time they got the grate off, water was starting to flood up from the opening.
Jack wasn’t reaching for them. He wasn’t doing anything because he didn’t have the air and he-
He was so limp when they got him out. Vic and Theo pulled him up, and his head was dropped back, lips parted slightly and eyes firmly closed. He didn’t move, he didn’t start coughing water, he just stayed as he was, limp and lifeless on the ground while Travis rubbed his sternum with his knuckles.
Andy started CPR while they got the rope untangled from him and dispatch said fifteen minutes but that was ten minutes ago, and it’s not here. There’s been no update. Who knows if there’s even one coming.
“Warren?”
“I- I think-” Ben narrows his eyes in concentration, readjusting his touch. His eyes widen. “Got a pulse! It’s real weak, but I’ve got a pulse.”
Travis leans down and pinches Jack’s nose, sealing their lips together and forcing air down his throat. They don't have anything to intubate with and Jack’s system needs something to save his brain.
Two quick breathes and he’s pulling away just slightly, analyzing Jack’s face for any movement, any signs of life.
“Come on. Come on Jack,” He whispers. “Breathe for me.”
Another two breathes. Travis grinds the heel of his palm into Jack’s chest, rubbing quick vigorous circles. “Come on, Jack don’t do this, don’t do this to us. Just breathe.”
The seconds stretch into long, tense moments where the rain doesn’t fall quiet right and noise fades in and out of Travis’ world. All he can see is Jack’s face, pale and sickly and devoid of the energy he’s come to expect from the man. “ Please Jack.”
Jack’s chest shudders under his hand. A wordless yell of excitement leaves Travis’ lips and suddenly there’s life back in the body under his finger tips.
Vic literally drags him back so Ben and Andy can work, but Travis doesn’t care, could not care less, because Jack is here. He’s breathing (coughing harshly, but still) and he’s alive and he’s no longer in need of chest compressions.
Vic holds him and he clings to her in return. “He’s alive, he’s alright.” She’s saying to him. “You got him back Trav. He’s alright. You did it.”
Travis leans against her, closes his eyes and tries to pretend the tears on his face are rain.
…
He goes with him in the aid car. Travis can’t leave Jack after all that. He can’t. He need to watch Jack’s chest rise and fall and he needs feel his pulse under his fingertips and he needs to know that Jack is alive, that they haven’t lost someone else.
And if he takes the time to tuck the blankets around Jack’s cold body, well, that’s no ones business.
Andy goes with them, monitoring Jack’s vitals while Travis does the absolutely useless role of sitting on the bench and holding Jack’s hand in both of his, trying to rub some warmth back into the skin. “He’s going to need antibiotics.”
Travis glances at Andy, the three of them soaked to the bone from the rain. She refits the oxygen mask on Jack’s face instead of looking at Travis. “And when he’s discharged, he’s going to need to be monitored by someone for a bit. Pneumonia can come on fast, and he’s definitely got water in his lungs.”
He watches her check Jack’s I.V., incredibly confused as to whats going on. She finally glances at him. “You still have an extra bedroom right?”
Travis freezes, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. “I- yeah, but- I mean he- why wouldn’t he stay with you?”
Andy gives the look that means he’s being stupid. “Because I don’t have an extra bedroom and me and Jack have not slept together in a very long time, nor are we about to sleep together again. Also he’s going to be coughing a lot, and I like my sleep.”
“But-”
“Just think about it, okay Montgomery? He’d really like- Jack!” Andy turns her attention to her patient, who’s managed to claw his way back to consciousness. He groans, patting at chest with his free hand. “Hey, Jack it’s alright we got you out. You’re on your way to the hospital.”
Jack wheezes something that she has to lean down to hear, but it makes her smile at least. “You ever consider worrying about yourself for once?” She teases, then points to Travis. “He’s right there. Doing much better than you are.”
Travis nearly swallows his tongue when those brown eyes meet his. As hazy as they are, there’s still a measure of relief evident in his gaze. “Jack?” he leans forward to hear. “Hey man, good to see you…not dead, I guess.”
Jack smiles lazily at him. “Happy to oblige.” He rasps, struggling for air. Travis shakes his head. “Don’t talk. Just- breathe.”
He squeezes Jack’s hand. Like before, Jack squeezes back. “You do that again, I think Andy’s gonna kill you for real.”
“Oh I’m gonna kill him?” She rolls her eyes at the two of them. “I mean- yes, I will, so don’t ever do that again - but I’m not the one who-”
“Andy!” Travis hisses. She winks at him. “-who got your ass out of that tunnel and brought you back to life, so maybe be a little gentle with Montgomery over here. He’s fragile.”
Jack’s gaze drifts back to Travis. “You saved me?” His voice is airy, like he’s high. Travis glances at Andy. “You didn’t give him anything right?”
“I’m not exactly authorized.” Andy replies. Travis glares at her. Jack squeezes his hand again. “Yeah, hey I’m here Jack.”
“Did…you save me?” He whispers again, chest shuddering. There’s a slight glint to his eye, almost like he’s amused .
If Travis didn’t just do four rounds of CPR on Jack’s chest, he’d be inclined to joke. Laugh. Maybe say something about how their first kiss was done when Jack couldn’t even remember it.
Except he can’t. He can’t because Jack’s not out of the woods yet and Travis still remembers the feel of Jack’s chest under his hands.
Instead, he tightens his grip on Jack’s hand and nods. “Of course I did Jack.”
Something shifts in Jack’s face, and he opens his mouth to say something but it ends in a cough. By the time it subsides, they’re pulling into the hospital.
“Well, at least when you get out you’ll have plenty of time to talk about all of...that.” Andy says, patting Jack’s leg as the aid car slows to the stop in front of Grey-Sloan. “Travis volunteered to put you up while you recover.”
“Andy, I-”
“Save it Trav, he’s out again.” Andy punches him in the arm. “You’ll love having him there, not to worry.”
“It’s Jack.” Travis says flatly. “I’m always worried.”
“See, you’ve already got it down!” The doors open and Jack is whisked away from them, Andy reporting stats and relevant history quickly. Only once they’ve disappeared inside the ED does he realize he’s shaking.
“Hey, Travis,” Andy tugs him into a hug, voice much more serious than before. “Thank you.”
He hugs her back, grateful for the stability. “For what?”
“For not giving up on him.”
Travis closes his eyes and breathes slow.
“You’re welcome Andy.”