Fic: Sink or Swim

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: Sink or Swim
Chapters: 5/7
Author: csi_sanders1129
Genre: Romance. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Drama.
Ratings: T
Word Count: 1,530/15,750
Pairings/Characters: Michael Woods/Jake Hunter, Tommy Biggs. [Jumping Ship (2001)]
Synopsis: It starts on Day 8. Jake can't take the staring anymore.
Comments: Okay, I know. Another fic for another fandom that no one is interested it (barring the friends I forced to watch the movie while I was writing this (to whom I owe thanks)). And yeah, the three main actors are all played by the Lawrence brothers, but they're not playing brothers, so ha! Not weird. Goes AU after Day 8 on the island. The movie is up on youtube, if anyone is interested in watching it. Comments are awesome, characters are not mine - do enjoy!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

This time, Michael wakes up on the island.

He’s standing on the beach, the three pirates in front of him and Jake held prisoner by the blonde one, an arm curled around his neck to keep him from bolting. Words are coming out of his own mouth but he doesn’t know what they are, just that he sounds far more confident than he actually feels and all he can think is an endless loop of please don’t hurt him, please don’t hurt him, please don’t hurt him…

Suddenly there’s a gun in his face and he doesn’t even really care because pointed at him means not pointed at Jake, and that? That’s good.

“Or I could just kill you right here, right now. You and your pretty boy. I’ll kill him first, of course, make you watch, and then we’ll see if you’re still disinclined to show us where the gold is.” The words seem familiar and he’s pretty sure this ends the way he wants it to, but even though he responds the same way he did before, something has to have gone sideways because Frakes levels his gun at Jake’s other shoulder and pulls the trigger without a second’s hesitation.

“No!” He shouts, rushing forward but he doesn’t get far because the blonde pirate somehow has a hold of him now, keeping his arms pinned behind his back and using Michael’s state of shock to get the upper-hand and bring him to his knees – easier to control him that way.

And Jake. Jake is calling out for him, his name sounds like it did when he was having his own nightmares – full of torture and sadness and fear. Jake’s down on his knees, too, just at eye level with Michael as the blood flows freely and more and more intensely from the fresh wound.

“Don’t! No! This isn’t what happens! No!” He shouts, pain tightening in his chest as he watches on. If there were gold here, he’d tell. He would. He knows it wouldn’t save them, wouldn’t save Jake because the pirates don’t have that kind of mercy in them, but maybe it would stop this torture and maybe they’d end it quickly, but now Frakes is taking aim at Jake again and oh, god, what now?

The gun is pointed at Jake’s stomach this time, the harbinger of a slow, painful death that Michael won’t be able to stop and one that will haunt his nightmares for all of forever because this has to be a nightmare, right? Then there’s the gunshot and there’s so much blood and Jake is straight out screaming as he goes down, something he’s refrained from doing thus far and Michael’s pretty sure he won’t even be able to forget that sound, no matter how much he’ll want to.

“Go on, then,” Frakes laughs at him and for some reason he signals the pirate to release him. He barrels toward Jake as fast as he can, barely gets off his knees at all before he falls to them again at Jake’s side and his hands are futilely pressing against the impressive hole in Jake’s stomach in a hopeless attempt to staunch the never ending flow of blood as he watches the life slowly start to leave Jake’s eyes. The watery sand around them is stained red with blood, spreading out more widely with each second that passes.

Michael’s crying by that point and he can’t even remember the last time he did that. Can’t draw forth one memory of breaking down like this since he was really little, but he is. He is and he’s clutching at Jake like that will help more than trying to put pressure on the wounds did, but he knows he doesn’t have much time left.

He says things that he can barely fathom, words like 'I love you,' and 'Don't do this, don't leave me,' and 'Jake, please stay,' but it's mostly just I love you over and over and over again. He flashes back to the daydreams he had when they first got to the island of being rescued by supermodels and the posed questions of believing in love at first sight that came with them and he knows that his answer is a resounding yes, now. Not for her, but for Jake.

Jake mumbles something barely coherent back at him, bloody fingers curling around Michael’s hand.

The gun echoes again, this time aimed at Jake’s head and -

***

The sharp sound of a knock on the hotel room door saves him from the impending ending of the horrendous nightmare.

“That was awful,” he mumbles quietly, arms curling tighter around Jake’s still soundly sleeping frame. He’s got his face buried in Jake’s hair, which is still just a little bit damp and smells like the generically clean hotel shampoo they’d used. One of his hands is pressed against Jake’s stomach, under his shirt, right where the bullet hit in the dream, but it’s dry and smooth, and not wet and slick with the freshly shed blood of a fatal wound. He nuzzles in closer against Jake’s neck, careful though, because this is the bad side, and presses a gentle kiss against the soft skin just above the bandage.

The knock at the door comes again – has someone been knocking this whole time? – and this time Jake blearily shifts to look back at him. “You gonna answer that?” He mumbles, eyes barely open at all.

“Apparently, it’s important,” Michael responds, and then he's climbing out of bed despite his strong desire to keep clinging to Jake until the memories of that nightmare completely disappear. For a second, he wonders if it’s his father, if they’ve overslept and missed the meeting for dinner, but he catches a glance of the clock on the bedside table as he stands up and they still have some time. He crosses the room and pulls the door open cautiously. "Yeah?"

"Mr. Woods?" An unfamiliar man asks of him. He's dressed in a nice, grey suit and clutching a briefcase, looks serious.

Michael, still a little jumpy from watching Frakes slay Jake right in front of him, narrows his eyes and responds, "who wants to know?"

The man smiles, offers a hand despite Michael's ominous answer. "Right, then. I'm Nathan Williams, a representative of several of the members of the Sydney Council. Many of them have heard of the encounter with the pirates and the role you, as well as Mr. Hunter and Mr. Biggs, had in turning them in. They've decided to offer the three of you a substantial reward for helping to bring the criminals to justice so swiftly and effectively," he says, pulling a check from the depths of his briefcase and handing it over, "To be split between the three of you."

Michael stares at the amount scribbled on the check in something akin to awe. This could be it - this could be the answer to his and Jake's worries. Even without Tommy's share of the reward, there's enough money that they could - he stops. Offers a hand as he mumbles something like "Whoa, thank you, so much. Glad we could help with your pirate problem, thank you." He's tempted to hug the man, but that might be pushing it. "Thank you," he says again, as Mr. Williams smiles and takes his leave.

Once he's got the door closed, a task that takes significantly more effort than usual given his present state of joyous shock, he moves back to Jake.

"What was that about?" Jake asks, still bordering on consciousness and not totally alert. Yet.

"That was a way for this to work," he answers, back on the bed and beside Jake again. "We can do this. It doesn't matter what my Dad says or anyone, really. We can do this. You and me."

Jake frowns in confusion, clearly perplexed by Michael's excitement. "What are you talking about?"

Michael produces the check, with a quick explanation of "for the three of us," and then he amends that with a slightly more hysterical, "we can give Tommy his share and then we can run. We can do whatever - get a boat and charter that, or you could go back to school like you wanted, or... Jake, we can run. They won't be able to stop us, it won't matter what my Dad wants, we can run."

"We don't need to run, Michael," Jake responds, though he, too, looks impressed by the numbers on the check. "We'll talk your Dad into being okay with this and we'll figure something out, but we don't need to do anything that extreme, okay?" He's pretty sure that Michael is only suggesting this because he's wary of actually having that conversation with his father and he doesn't want them giving up on each other without at least trying to work it out.

Michael's slow to answer, but eventually he nods. "Yeah, yeah, you're right." He sets the check aside and leans in to kiss Jake. "C'mon, I guess we should get changed for dinner, then," he says, grabbing Jake's good hand and levering him up and out of bed.