Their anger was potent but boyish, always had been. Usually it was a hissing fight, a punch or two and then they would find common ground again, but with as many injuries as they had, that wasn't possible. Hell, they could still barely stand for more than a few minutes at a time, so rolling around in a fight was not going to happen.
With Gabriel hooked back up to oxygen and them occupying the bed as far away from each other as physically possible, Jack suspected there would be no walking away from him at least. The opposite wouldn't always hold true, though he was wary of going to the bathroom after how frightfully cold he had been once he had woken. His body couldn't cope with another stunt like that.
He lasted about half an hour in the quiet, listening to the distant sound of emergency sirens. It wasn't often that their link was cut and if it was, Gabriel let him know ahead of time for mission security sake. It was stifling, and he was being punished.
After thirty minutes, he made a wounded sound and pushed himself up from the bed, slipping from it to head to the bathroom himself. He grabbed the blanket still in the filthy tub and tossed it out, kicked the door closed and turned on the water to the shower. He shouldn't get his wounds wet, but he was filthy and impotently angry and hurting.
He pulled off his clothing gingerly, some of it sticking to him from dried blood and dirt. He had to remove his bandages just as carefully, ignoring the blown stitches on his abdomen and reached out to touch the water to check for heat. The water was blessedly warm even if the tub made him thank god he was taking antibiotics. He stepped in and shut the shower curtain after him, just standing under the spray and watching dirt, blood and who knew what else streak down his body and swirl down the drain.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-07-16 01:37 pm (UTC)With Gabriel hooked back up to oxygen and them occupying the bed as far away from each other as physically possible, Jack suspected there would be no walking away from him at least. The opposite wouldn't always hold true, though he was wary of going to the bathroom after how frightfully cold he had been once he had woken. His body couldn't cope with another stunt like that.
He lasted about half an hour in the quiet, listening to the distant sound of emergency sirens. It wasn't often that their link was cut and if it was, Gabriel let him know ahead of time for mission security sake. It was stifling, and he was being punished.
After thirty minutes, he made a wounded sound and pushed himself up from the bed, slipping from it to head to the bathroom himself. He grabbed the blanket still in the filthy tub and tossed it out, kicked the door closed and turned on the water to the shower. He shouldn't get his wounds wet, but he was filthy and impotently angry and hurting.
He pulled off his clothing gingerly, some of it sticking to him from dried blood and dirt. He had to remove his bandages just as carefully, ignoring the blown stitches on his abdomen and reached out to touch the water to check for heat. The water was blessedly warm even if the tub made him thank god he was taking antibiotics. He stepped in and shut the shower curtain after him, just standing under the spray and watching dirt, blood and who knew what else streak down his body and swirl down the drain.