I sit in the waiting room after they stitched my leg up. They gave me some blue scrubs to change into so I could get out of my clothes which where a bloody mess, literally. My leg is bouncing, a habit of mine, as my mind races of all the possibilities of what could go wrong while Jack's on that surgery table. Blood loss, cardiac arrest, blood clot, the possibilities are endless.

I wipe my palms on my legs before I kick my crutches away. I was told to use them for the next two to three weeks to keep the pressure of my leg, but I don't care right now. I start pacing the small square that was made by the uncomfortable chairs, limping my way form one end to the other over and over again. Nervously start chewing on the inside of my cheek, to the point where that feeling of warm blood covers my tongue, and that doesn't stop me from chewing down on the freshly exposed flesh either.

"Hey, kid," Bobby says walking in the guys, "How is he?"

"I don't know," I continue to pace "they got him in surgery now, haven't heard anything since."

"How's your leg?" Angel asks looking at my crutches that sprawled at the far end.

"I'm fine, I don't need those," I say, still pacing feeling those pain killers starting to ware off.

"If your fine why you limping?" Angel asks.

"Sit down, your making me tired," Bobby says resting his elbows on his knees with his focus on the ground. I sink into the seat between Bobby and Angel, Sofi is next to Angel and then Jerry is on the other side of Bobby.

"Jesus Christ, what's taking them so damn long!" Bobby says worriedly for his baby brother who has been in surgery for almost three hours now.

"Surgery takes time, Bobby," Jerry says shift in his seat. Even though Bobby will never admit it, you can tell he is on the verge of crying.

"Jack Mercer?" A doctor says from the door, with a towel over his hands and blood on his scrubs. We stand up and he makes his way over.

"He okay?" Bobby asks.

"Can we see him?" Jerry asks.

"Yes, he is out of surgery," the doctor continues, "But due to the massive blood loss he has went into a coma. He is still responsive but he has not woken up, we do not know when or if he will wake up. If thing do not get better within the next few weeks he may not awake. His knee has sustained a lot of damage, but his shoulder had took the most out of all. The bullet tore nerves and muscles it will take several months of physical therapy to get the most function back."

"Is there anyway for us to be able to wake him up?" Bobby asks.

"I'm afraid not, but there is still hope that he'll wake up on his own," He says, "Would you like to see him?"

We all nod our heads, walk through the door and follow a nurse in bright pink scrubs to Jacks room.

White walls, white floors, doctors running from room to room with clip boards an interns following their every move and hanging on to their every word. There's a nurse trying to get a guy, who is clearly drunk off his ass, to sit down so she can tend to his head wound. In the next room over there's a family sitting around their kids bed, she looks miserable, I can relate. In the hall way there's a male doctor helping a guy up and getting to walk with a prosthetic leg.

I'm bringing up the rear of the group with my crutches. They take a left, making me fall more behind. This hall isn't as busy, doctors walking swiftly from room to room doing daily rounds, but nothing to noisy because we had just entered the ICU, Intensive Care Unit. I've had my fair share of hospital stays, but never in the ICU.

We reach Jacks room, the nurse holds the door open as we all walk in, "It is necessary for the noise to stay at a minimum," She states and we all look at Bobby. The rest of us have some sort of volume control while Bobby's volume control is absolute shit, unless being quite is necessary. She leaves the room, leaving us alone with Jack.

It's now almost seven in the evening and we've been talking about this Vic guy, "So wait, this whole thing was done by the Sweets?" I ask trying to keep up with all of them.

"Yeah," Bobby says taking a seat on the other side of the room next to Jacks bed.

"What we gonna do, Vic ain't gonna get away with this," Angel states with his arms angrily crossed over his chest and a look that's hungry for revenge covered on his face.

"I got an idea,' Jerry says standing up from the chair next to me.

"What?" Bobby asks turning his attention from Jack to Jerry.

"We'll take the rest of the money from Mom's insurance, pay Sweet to call off the dogs. He'll deal. He's a businessman.," Jerry suggest, I myself wouldn't make any deal with the Sweets, take them with a single bullet, between the eyes. Done.

"It doesn't count as a plan if it takes you longer to say it than it does to think it up," Bobby laughs.

"Yeah, Jerry. Sweet will meet up with you, take your money. Won't be able to find your body till the river thaws, if you can get that far," Angel says to Jerry, at this point I drown them out, they become more pointless white noise.

"So what we gonna put'em in the river or what?" Jerry says which catches my attention.

"Wait," I butt in, "Your gonna kill Vic? How can I help?"

"You can stay here and watch cracker Jack," Angel implies, "And maybe help Bobby shake the rust off his fightin' skills," They all laugh a bit, so do I.

"Man, I don't need practice," He says standing up.

"Your going against a Sweet, yeah you do," I say standing up completely ignoring my crutches, never liked using them.

"My fightin' skills are better than all of yours!" He says clearly offended.

"Since I'm injured you should have no problem taking me down," I say getting proper stance, "C'mon you scared?"

"I ain't scared I'm just not gonna fight a gi-" He cut of by me getting him in the gut and when he doubled over I jam my elbow into his back causing him to fall to the ground. Angel and Jerry just stare surprised.

"You left yourself open to attack," I say flattening my scrubs, "Always be aware, if your not, Vic will kill you."

"I wasn't ready," He groans as he get back to his feet.

"That doesn't matter," I say turning to face him. He swings at me, I duck past him and as he turns, the back of my heel gets him in his left side, which send a shocking pain through my leg.

"You gonna help me or just continue to..." He trials off.

"Continue to whoop your ass," Angel jokes laughing with Jerry, I laugh a bit too.

"Man lets see you give it a try," He says rubbing the spot where I got him.

"Aw, did I hurt you?" I say with a smirk, "need some ice for it?"

"Man, I'll pass," Angel says stepping back against the wall next to Jerry.

"Get up," I say as he takes to long, "You would've been dead by now."

"Damn, what training did you have?" He says getting into the wrong stance.

"You're too open," I say moving his body into the right stance, "There, now your hands are a different story," I place his hands in the right position, I hold up to pillows, "Now, simple combinations, the one one two."

"The what what two?" He ask confuse moving out of position.

"Get back in position and let me finish," I say as he tries to get back in position. I roll my eyes when he gets in the wrong position, "Again, too open, standing like that you won't have enough mobility," I say placing him back in proper from, "Now one one two," I say showing him what it is, and holding the pillows up, "Do it."

We run a few more drills before I sit him down and give some well needed tips, because his punching is sloppy. Jerry had left to talk to Evan, Jerry went to get Sofi, and we get on ear load from Bobby, "Do you understand?" I ask after giving some tips on placement and the combination I had taught him.

"Yeah," He says, after the guys let he actually started to listen, "Now, can I get a rematch. The first wasn't fair," I shake my head no, "How'd you learn all this? During the shooting you shot that rifle without hesitation, you knew what you where doing. That doesn't just come to a person, that's with practice."

"I had some training back in California," I continue, "Growing up as a Westgates you get training from age 6 to I don't know, starts out by going a sport, then hand-to-hand combat, then medical fields, after that you are about fourteen and you go to this military training place for about four to six months, maybe more if you need it, where you learn how to shot, trauma care and what not, and after that you go back to your house and continue to perfect what your learned."

"Shit," Bobby says sitting back in the purple chair with light wooden features, "more badass than I thought, Fields."

It's been about three weeks now, because of my lack of using the crutches I had a choice use the crutches for about another week or a wheel chair. I chose the crutches, and Jack's situation hasn't changed, he is still in the coma. Three weeks not a sign of waking up, nothing, he is still responsive but not and good as he was before.

The knocked on the door makes all of our head snap up, "Hello," Jack doctor, Dr. Green, says as he enters the room, "As you know Jack is still responsive but his condition is deteriorating at a steady pace. As we told if he doesn't wake up soon, he have a higher chance of enter what we call a vegetated state, but as of now we have this for his legal guardian to sign," he says handing my the clipboard with a pen.

"Uh, we aren't married," I state, "Wouldn't his oldest brother need to sign..." I look at the paper, "DNR. You want us to sign a fucking DNR?"

"Ma'am I know this isn't the news you want but he isn't making progress, he is going back wards," He says,.

"Wait what's a DNR?" Bobby asks.

"Do not resuscitate " I say not breaking eye contact with the doctor.

"You need to understand that if he does go into cardiac arrest, there's a chance he could end up brain dead," He tries to explain but the only thing I hear is that he want us to sign a form basically saying we gave up on him.

"Bobby, Alexis, guys c'mon," Jerry says, "He ain't getting better, its the right thing to do."

"Seriously, Jerry, the fairy is still alive," Bobby snaps, "I'm not gon- we aren't gonna let him down again!"

"We haven't let him down once, Bobby," Angel states, "If not for him do it for her! Look at her, man."

"Me?" I ask surprised, I mean yeah, I've been little distance lately, not getting much sleep, not eating s much as I should but I'm fine.

"She's a mess," Jerry points out.

"I. Am. Fine," I say a little annoyed at them, I don't like people fussing over me, I hate it.

"He isn't getting a better," Angel says again.

**Jacks POV**

I sit on the window sill watching as they all start arguing with each other about the damn DNR form. I mindlessly start swinging my legs, causing them to hit the wall. It's late at night, the doctor had left giving them time to think about signing the form, "Jackie," I hear mom say, "Please stop, its loud."

"What, they can't hear me," I say still kicking my legs.

"But, sweetie, I can and I don't know how much more I can take," She laughs.

"Sorry," I smile, I sit there for awhile doing nothing until I start drumming on the glass. The beat is to a song I had wrote while in New York with my band, never finished it, we couldn't find the right chords to go with it. My band mates gave up but I still keep trying, hoping one day I will hit the right chord and everything will fall into place, but I got nothing. I sigh and give up, I rest my head on the window.

"Jackie, sweetheart," Mom says, I turn to look at her, "Why aren't you fighting to get back?"

"I'm trying Ma, I'm trying," I say, knowing that I'm not trying as hard as I was in the begging. I lost the drive, even though I could see my oldest brother and my girlfriend start to wither away, Bobby looks pale, tired, the bags under his eyes have darkened, Alexis on the other hand looks tired and scared, when night falls she get this look of fear in her eyes that I've only seen once and that's when we first met, she looks smaller, as in she's lost weight no more than ten pounds. Both of them have hardly gotten sleep, Angel and Jerry have to crush sleeping pills and mix in with whatever drink they have.

"No you're not, Jackie," Mom was the person who cut right to the chase, she didn't sugar coat things, "If you where, you'd be with them, not me. They need you more than you think."

"They don't need me that much," I say pulling at some loose threads on my sleeve, "I just get in the way, I mean look what I did, I got myself shot."

"That's not your fault Jackie, and you know that," She says walking over to me and placing a comforting hand on my knee, "None of this is your fault. You need to get back to them, they need you, look at them, their a mess without you."

I look at my mom, "I'll keep trying Ma, I'll keep trying," I smile pulling her into one last hug.

"Until we meet again," She says placing her hand on my cheek and giving me a smile, "Which will hopefully be in many more years to come, many many more."