Okay, so the Halloween episode was nice. And we got a little bit of hurt!Jack, although not nearly enough.
And hey! It happened DAYS BEFORE HALLOWEEN! Trust me, falling like that, you're not up to much a few days later.
(I'm just gonna go ahead and assume the episode aired 'real-time' and that DAYS BEFORE HALLOWEEN means 4 days before Halloween… -Anyway less than a week before Halloween…) –rant over-

Jack was afraid to pull a breath when he finally came to a stop. Something would certainly start aching as soon as he did. He had done shit like this before, and it always started to hurt after a few seconds. The tree he fell down from at seven, the bulls that had bucked him off real good, the one incident with the water tower. Unwillingly falling more than your own height always hurt, and there had to be like a thousand feet up to that rectangular box of light.

Finally forcing a breath he winced. It wasn't as bad as he had imagined. He had felt worse, far worse. He would definitely be sore for a week or two, but it didn't feel like he had done any real damage.

"Jack, you okay?" Mac's voice was urgent, worried.

He exhaled and let his arms move to test whether it would hurt like a motherf***** or not, before croaking out "Whaddaya think? I just fell like a thousand feet!"

"-Give or take 980, but yeah…"

Okay, maybe it wasn't like a thousand feet, probably not even twenty if Mac thought it was twenty. If Jack calculated in Mac's fear of heights it was probably more like fifteen or so. –If he really had to guess.

Moving hurt a lot, but with every second it got a little better. He rolled over and started crawling, gradually morphing from a crawling to a standing position.

And of course his shitty flashlight was flickering. He gave it a few smacks until it provided him with a steady beam of light, then he swept the light across the room.

It landed on the ugliest mug he had ever seen. Jack punched instinctively and wondered who had screamed. He let the beam of the flashlight run all over the room, then realizing he was alone and that the ugly mug belonged to a punching doll he understood that he was the one who had screamed.

"…Jack?"

"Are you finding anything interesting down there?" Right, Cage was with them too. He had almost forgotten about that.

"Nope. Nope-nope-not… There's just an old combat training room, -nothing."

"Errr… Well, do you see anything down there that can help you get back up?"

"No. Not, not a ladder… Nothing I trust to support my weight, -anything like that…" he answered as he scanned the room, this time a little more relaxed. Then he noticed how frigid it was, "Jeez! It's kinda, kinda cold down here!"

It was kinda soothing, actually. The cold temperature was calming the warm feeling of bruises forming over big areas of his body, namely his right shoulder and side.

"Wait, Jack… That's it! That's uh… Stone floors? Cold?"

"Yeah-yeah!" Jack nodded, that was exactly what it was.

He could hear Mac and Cage share a few words he couldn't quite catch. Then Mac's voice became a little louder and more directed at him, "Hey, is my antenna down there?"

Laughing Jack picked up the remains of the said antenna, "Yeah… And it's in about a thousand pieces homie… You're gonna have to figure out another way to track Wheeler."

"Yeah, sit tight. I have a plan but I've gonna have to go to the radio tower to get supplies?"

Did he just hear what he thought he heard? "SIT TIGHT? NO MAN! HEY-HEY-HEY! I AIN'T SITTING TIGHT NOWHERE! –LISTEN, WE TALKED ABOUT THIS, WE SWORE THERE WAS GONNA BE NO SPLITING UP NOW!

"Hey, look… We're all leaving here together. I promise. But for now I've gotta go. You know what? While you're down there, why don't you poke around, see if you can find a trace of Wheeler, or his team."

"Yeah. Yeah alright, go on… But I guarantee you, I'm the first one who gets it…" Jack sighed as he tried to get his flashlight to work better, the fall hadn't been all that good to it either.

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They had found Cage, and Mac was working on getting her out of the chamber.

He himself on the other hand was running towards the heat signature Riley had pointed out for him.

His body was painful, but it was still warm, his injuries hadn't seized up yet.

Okay, his shoulder. His shoulder was probably gonna be the worst when this whole thing settled. Or his elbow. His elbow could also turn out pretty bad. –He was pretty sure that it was his elbow's fault that his shoulder felt like it did.

He was a little fuzzy on the details, but he was almost certain that his elbow was what had connected with the ground first, or at least at the same time as his feet. Thinking about it, his shoulder should have dislocated. Falling and landing on your backside, with your elbow as the first point of contact –behind you no less- should easily knock his shoulder out.
Luckily it was just on route to being sore as hell. Nothing a little ice and rest wouldn't take care of.

One thing he was truly thankful for though, was that he had managed to avoid landing on his right hand, because that wrist wasn't able to stand what it used to. And he wanted to avoid another wrist surgery for as long as possible.

He inhaled sharply as one of the strides he took sent an electric current through his left ankle. Okay. He could pretty much just settle for guessing that his whole damn body would hurt like a horror movie come tomorrow morning. He pushed all the pains and aches to the back of his mind and kept on running through the jungle-esque forest.

"Jack! She should be right in front of you!

With that in mind, he picked up his speed another notch. Seeing his target he launched himself towards her, tackling her to the ground.

With his right arm drawn back, ready to knock that bad news woman out, he stalled when he saw that not everything was as he thought it should be. "COMMANDER WHEELER?"

Quickly he helped the commander free from his gag, allowing the man to breathe through his mouth and speak freely.

"Watch out- she used me to draw you out! She's planning…"

"Hey-hey…"

"-She's tracking me." The commander swallowed quickly, "She's tracking me right NOW!"

The sound of a slide being drawn made Jack reach for his own pistol as he started to turn around to face his new target.

Before he was able to zero in on her, and this time it really was HER, it was like his arm or shoulder came in contact with something hot. The most natural response had him spinning on his heels, away from the discomfort. Which unfortunately also meant down from the plateau they were on.

He somehow managed to have his feet touch the ground first, like a freaking cat. Then without absorbing much of the impact, he managed to roll in the easiest direction. Unfortunately for him that was half-backwards, half to the right. The side that was already sore, and if he wasn't mistaken, -had just been hit with a round.

For a split second it only felt like someone had punched him real hard. But he knew that wasn't the truth. Then his arm felt sorta paralyzed, like that feeling you get in your legs if you sit on the toilet for too long, and you know walking is gonna be an experience in itself. (damn cellphone games…)

As that feeling faded, it replaced itself with pain and the notion that his arm weighed a freaking literal ton. But he had to get up to that ledge over the one he landed on. He couldn't stay here.

One handed, he managed to climb the seven or eight feet he needed to get up. Every little move seemed to rip through his shoulder as he rolled himself onto the relative safety of the bigger ledge which actually proved to be an old overgrown road.

Growling and gasping he reached for his right shoulder. In a hope that he would feel a bullet stuck in his vest. He already knew it hadn't stopped there, if it had even hit the vest in the first place. He pressed his hand against his chest, not even daring to touch the epicenter of the pain.

Letting out an extra grunt, he staggered to his feet. He needed to get going, find cover. Real cover.

With his arm held as still as the situation would allow him, he started jogging towards one of the buildings he saw. Hopefully he would find a place to hide there. Hunker up and be ready to shoot her when she came for him.

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He was slower than he used to, he could feel her being right behind him. Like a creepy shadow.

He managed to get the door open and stepped inside. He jogged, if you could even call it that, towards some old oil barrels or something. His upper right side was blindingly painful, his right arm basically useless.

He wanted so bad to just let a scream rip from his lungs, possibly followed by an impressive string of curses. But he could hear her entering the building as well. He needed to keep a lid on it, needed to stay quiet. No matter how much it hurt.

He tried to be good, tried to apply pressure to the wound. But it was too painful. He settled for supporting his right shoulder instead. It would do. It would have to do… Besides, it didn't look like the bullet had hit any big veins or arteries even though he was getting awfully light headed.

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"YOU SURVIVED THAT FALL! I'M IMPRESSED!" Damn, she sounded closer than he had thought. He had to move.

Grimacing he hurried, as much as his tormented body would allow him to hurry, towards another pile of barrels. For a small second he feared he would black out.

He took a deep breath, collecting himself, before he scrambled the last four yards to his new hideout.

Quickly allowing himself a brief look of his injury, he grimaced even harder. Blood was oozing from the small tear in his shirt. His left hand was smeared with blood from trying to press against his right shoulder. His right hand was dripping with blood. This was bad. Real bad.

He let his head fall back against one of the barrels. Although not a praying man, he sent up a brief prayer, hoping for either relief or salvation. Salvation from her that was.

"I'M GONNA MAKE YOU A DEAL, YOU LET ME TAKE YOUR PLANE AND FLY AWAY WITH COMMANDER WHEELER, AND I WON'T PAINT THE WALLS WITH YOUR BLOOD!"

"COUNTER OFFER: WHEELER STAYS WITH ME AND YOU TAKE OFF! I'LL SEE IF I CAN CATCH YOU A DEAL WITH THE CIA!"

"SORRY. NO CAN DO!" there was too much joy in her voice for Jack's liking. "I KINDA NEED WHEELER IF I'M GONNA PUT HIM UP FOR AUCTION. I'VE GOT A LOT OF… WELL, CALL THEM FRIENDS WHO WILL PAY GOOD MONEY TO GET THEIR HANDS ON A VISE PRESIDENT'S SON."

Jack studied the wound on his shoulder. It would have been fascinating if it didn't hurt that damn much. Looking up again, his eyes landed on an EXIT door. Just what he needed.

"DON'T LIE TO ME, WE BOTH KNOW YOU AIN'T GOT NO FRIENDS!" he yelled before dashing towards the door.

Only problem. The door proved to be locked. Well fuck…

"OH NO! LOOKS LIKE OUR LITTLE GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK HAS COME TO AN END!"

Knowing that there was no other escape, he reluctantly stepped towards her. If he was gonna get shot, again, he would rather take one in the chest than in the back.

Suddenly her gun flew out of her hand. Then she seized up, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull and she lifted off the ground. Kinda like that one chick in one of the X-men movies. At least that was the movies he thought that belonged to. Just as suddenly she was pulled back towards the old trailer standing in the back, collecting decades of dust.

Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing. It had to be some sort of miracle. Had to be.

He hit his knees and started crossing his chest. He didn't really catch what he was saying, it just came out of his mouth, like a reflex. Then he thought better and drew a triangle instead. He was in the Bermuda triangle after all. It was probably some sorts of crazy Bermuda spirits or something.

Then. Laughter.?

Jack sobered up a little bit as Mac stumbled forward, laughing and clapping his hands. "A little dramatic…"

"Mac?"

"Yeah…"

"Did you develop the powers of a mystical wizard or something?"

"Oh no… Nothing that cool, I read in her file that she had a metal plate in her head and, and wires in her jaw, and a titanium shoulder. So… I built a big-ass electro magnet." Mac explained as he gestured to the magnet.

"Huh? Really?" Jack had known the kid for almost a decade now, and that ginormous brain still impressed him.

"Yeah…" Mac nodded like it was basically nothing, "Who's your boy?"

"You are man…" Jack smiled, before Mac grabbed a hold under his left armpit and helped him painfully to his feet. His body protested loudly. "You are… But I'll tell you what. Whatever's going on in that crazy head of yours is way scarier than the Bermuda triangle any day of the week son…"

"Are you crying?"

Heck yes he was crying. Crying was almost mandatory when you had been shot and fallen down a collective of about 40-50 feet in one day. But still, he couldn't admit to that. "No-no man… I'm… I'm just tired…"

"Okay, let's get you some medical attention…"

Medical attention actually sounded like a sweet plan. Just what he needed. He wouldn't even threaten to knock anyone out if they offered him a syringe with anything that would knock him out.

Okay, I'm gonna leave this here. Might come back to make another tag for this later. Like a aftermath tag or something. I feel like they stole at least a few scenes with Jack and a sling from us. Just saying…