Thursday, May 30th, 2013 -- evening

The day had gone pretty normally at the office -- a couple of meetings, a few hours where Ben had to go and track some people down to talk to. Quite a few phone calls for Jackie (and Belle) to field. The end of the day was a little less standard, but not anything bad by any means -- Jackie taking the car to run some errands, and Ben going to meet a client, last minute, at a coffee house several blocks away. He doesn't mind the walk, really -- figures he can sneak in a cigarette without Jackie harping on him -- so instead of Jackie dropping him off (and it would be out of the way for her besides), he goes on foot. It's maybe a half an hour later when her phone goes off -- curious, because he should be in the middle of his meeting by then.

Since her truck had gotten plunged into the waters of the docks Ben and Jackie had been splitting their time with his beater of a car. She was still too uncomfortable to walk on her own, especially when she wasn't sure she was going to get home before dark, and Ben had thankfully obliged her time and time again to take the car while he either got dropped off or walked somewhere. It wasn't that long ago when Jackie preferred walking everywhere as well so there was no fuss from her about it, she just didn't have it in her these days. She had dropped Belle off at home with Adam before she was heading towards the market. Jackie didn't even get a chance to get out of the car for her first stop when the phone went off. Puzzled she answered with a sigh, trying out some of that wife intuition she hoped she had developing. "Hello, sweetheart. Was the client a bust?"

In a way, her intuition was right. "Need to come get me. Now." And if the way his voice was lower, rougher, wasn't enough of a giveaway, "You owe me," should be more than enough. Even for Sam, though, he doesn't sound right, thicktongued and voice tight, breathing heavy, a touch of a wheeze on the inhales. "Seventeenth and Parsons. Now." And the call ends, and nobody picks up if she calls back.

Her playful air instantly vanished when she was given a demand rather than a greeting. It was so uncharacteristic of Ben and with the next statement, you owe me, she figured out why. "Sam, what's goin' on?" The idea of Sam demanding a favor of Jackie, stooping so low as she was positive he viewed the situation, it had to mean something was horribly wrong. No explanation, only crossroads. She didn't hesitate to fumble with the keys to turn the car back on, bringing the engine roaring to life so she could haul tail out of the market. Stupidly, while she was emotional and driving she attempted to call back time and time again but no one ever answered. She finally gave up with a shriek of irritation confined within the beater and tossed the phone into the passenger seat.

It wasn't long before Jackie arrived at the corner that Sam had told her to go to. Now. She brought the car to a quick halt in a horrible park job too far from the curb and angled, but she couldn't be bothered. The keys were ripped out of the ignition and she got out of the car, marching to stand beneath the signs that read Seventeenth and Parsons. Her stomach dropped when there was nothing, no one, there. Had she misunderstood? Did she hear him wrong? What was happening? More importantly, where was Ben? "Sam!" Panic swelled in that one word. "Ben!?"

Right at the corner, there really was nothing and no one there. It was a lot like the rest of that area of town -- apartment buildings, sometimes with small businesses there on the ground floor, but the ones right there seemed to be closed. There's no response at first (at least not one that she can hear), but eventually he's able to call her name loud enough to actually be heard outside the alley that he'd been dragged into, between the building on the corner and the one next to it. It's her name, too, not 'over here' or something less personal, so maybe she was lucky and wouldn't have to deal with Sam at that point.

Her luck ends there, though, unless she considers Ben still being conscious a stroke of luck, because when she heads into the alleyway, she'll find him not far from the mouth of it, slumped against the brick wall of one building, seated on the ground. It's dark, but not so much that the blood wasn't visible on his face, his hands, his shirt, his hair. His nose was obviously broken, both eyes already blackening. When he sees her, though, he puts up one hand toward her, like he's trying to get her to keep her distance? Or maybe it's just to reassure her that he's conscious. "I'm okay, I'm okay," even though nothing could be further from the truth. Hard to breathe, hard to talk, and he can't keep pain out of his voice.

It doesn't matter if it's only seconds ticking by because they feel like forever engulfed in the ever growing silence and the quickly approaching twilight. Jackie uselessly paces just beneath the sign trying to straighten her thoughts out enough to figure out what to do from here, but it all comes to a screeching halt when she heard her name called. She moves so fast and unevenly in the direction of the alley that her ankle threatens to roll under her but she manages to catch herself with a grunt and continue onward. "Ben." There was relief in her tone just to hear him, but in the back of her head she already knew nothing about this was right.

When Jackie finally found Ben her hand covered her mouth and the involuntary gasp that escaped her. The lift of his hand might have made her pause in place at first, but it didn't last long and quick steps brought her closer to him so she could sink down and kneel in front of him. "Ben? Baby? What in the hell happened to you? You're not okay." Did she honestly have to tell him that? Hands reached out like she might touch him but she stopped short, unsure if all she was going to do was hurt him more.

He's kind of shaking his head a little once she asks him what happened, like he's dazed, or maybe in disbelief. Not looking her in the face, though his eyes are on her, as unfocused as he is. "Got jumped," as if he had to tell her that. "That guy that attacked you. Brought friends. But I don't..." Shaking his head again, a little quicker, the motion smaller. "Missing some." He smiles, but it's tight, and it's mostly a wince. "How'd you find me?" Tries to get to his feet then, but even while pushing back against the wall for support, it's too much, and he just sits back down, choking back a pained noise (mostly), wheezing out a frustrated sort-of sigh. "We need to go. In case they come back."

It's bad enough when Ben confirms that he got jumped. It's the additional information, the fact that it was by Lonnie and a group of his buddies, that's what suddenly makes it feel like ice is forming along Jackie's spine and she's unable to catch her breath despite a few tries. It's hard to tell how long she would have stayed frozen like that if it wasn't for him asking her that question, making her think about it and give him a fleeting half smile in return to reassure him more than anything. "Sam called me. He's becomin' more helpful by the day." It reminded her that her cellphone was still in the passenger side of the car. "We need to report Lonnie and them a**holes. An' I need to get you to the hospital." She was moving from a kneeling position to a crouch, all too aware that she needed to be careful while helping him but she couldn't very well do nothing. "C'mon, I can call in the car on the way." And she was already attempting to slide herself beneath his arm. "I got you. It'll be okay." Would it? The amount of blood was shocking and even more worrisome were the injuries that Jackie couldn't see in the dark of the alley. Still, she had to say something positive for him. "It'll be alright." Maybe it was for herself as well.

"Guess he's got some sense," trying to sound amused, trying to joke, but it falls flat. He's shaking his head when she moves to help him up, even telling her, "No, no," but it's not about getting him to his feet, because with her to lean on, he's able to stand. "Jesus," quiet, and he's uselessly, automatic, wiping one hand across his mouth, under his nose. Still bleeding, and there's too much slick red on his hands to clean him up anyway. "You can't call anybody. If the Watch gets involved, I'm f*cked. Sam started this," cuts off a little suddenly with a sharp inhale, a harsh curse under his breath, because he'd tried taking a step then, and his ankle did not feel great. Choosing to lean against the wall instead of putting so much weight on her for the moment he takes to recover from that, "Sam started it, and even though he'd grabbed you, it was too much. Sam went overboard. And I don't know how they work here, if that's gonna get me in trouble or what." A slow, careful inhale, one he can't help grimacing during, and then he starts toward the mouth of the alley with her, leaning heavily on her, obviously limping. "No hospitals. I can deal with this."

"Don't let him hear you say that or his ego is gonna be even bigger than it already is." She was trying just as hard as he was, attempting to crack a small joke even if it made her feel uncomfortable. Briefly she thinks he is denying her help but with his weight put on her she realizes that's not the case and she rises to stand along with him, her arm slung around his torso. He says she can't tell anyone and she gives off a sound of protest but his continued explanation cuts it short. That and her bracing herself to take even more of his weight once he pushed off the wall since it seemed his ankle wasn't in any position to do it. "So Lonnie is just goin' to keep runnin' free." A statement, not a question. Upset, disappointed, worried, angry. It was all rolled onto one overwhelming mash of emotions that she was having an even more difficult time than usual keeping in check. Part of her was a little thankful, too. Obviously that Ben, despite being battered and broken, was alive and well enough to hobble off the scene. But she was also unable to ignore that she wasn't retching at the mess of blood that he was. It wouldn't have surprised her considering everything else she came in contact with lately made her sick to her stomach, but puking now wasn't going to help her Florence Nightingale routine.

Jackie kept pace with Ben, making sure to not rush him even if the idea of Lonnie and company returning did make her want to get them out of there as quickly as possible. "You can deal with this? Why? Your face is busted, your foot is busted, who knows if you got busted ribs. I know I played the part of nurse for y'back in the day, but..." She couldn't even finish the statement before understanding why he was so opposed. "They're goin' to interrogate the hell out of you tryin' to figure out what happened the moment you step foot in the damn door." A few mumbled curses dropped beneath her breath while she moved him to the passenger side of the car and hauled the door open for him.

He isn't looking at her so he can't see the heat in her expression or the way it softens quickly, but he can hear it in her voice, and he moves to take her hand in his, tangle his bloodied fingers with hers. If he'd been thinking, maybe he wouldn't have touched her, wouldn't have made more of a mess of her -- but he wasn't thinking, and this was more important. The touch was what she'd want anyway. If he'd really been thinking, maybe he'd realize that that very thought process was the one that had driven their entire relationship together. They should know better, but it was what they wanted, and isn't that more important? But he's not thinking, not really, and he just murmurs, "I'm not going anywhere," too much strain in his voice for it to be absolutely reassuring, but it's all he can do, and he means every word.

He doesn't say anything for a long time after she confesses to him, doesn't do anything to acknowledge he'd heard her. Just a slight hitch in the slow, laboured sound of his breathing. But after a long moment, a few of those terrible sounding inhale-exhales, "No, you don't. You might think you do, but you don't really want that kind of revenge." If breathing didn't hurt so badly, talking even worse, he might've pointed out that not even Lonnie stooped to kill Ben. Maybe he'd point out that killing someone for revenge, that's something Sam would do -- has done. But it does hurt, and his head is swimming on top of it all, so he just barely tightens his hold on her hand, tells her, "You're better than that."

If Jackie was bothered by her hand getting dirty, she didn't show it. Her fingers slid against his skin because of the slick coat of blood that coated them, but it only made her grasp onto him that much tighter. Through the rough times that have and will undoubtedly continue to follow them, this was what it all came back to. Him and her, a touch, building an entire family and life off of that. "I know." It was the only thing she could think to say right now to assure him she was okay and to not fret about her worries.

She probably would have been satisfied to let her confession linger between them before fading away into nothingness. It wasn't like Jackie was looking for Ben to say anything in particular. What do you say to something like that? Jackie had released the thought into the wild and at the same time she wasn't even sure. It's when he actually voices his opinion on it all that her jaw clicks a few times, her emotions once again an ongoing wave between solemn worrying and quiet blood thirsty rage. He tells her that she's better than that and she's not spitting out an automatic response in return.

The words get chewed over for the rest of the car ride until she's pulling into that old familiar parking spot she used to take up when Ben lived here. The car is put into park and the engine is killed, but she doesn't make a move to get out of the car. "No, I might be better than that and maybe I would never have the grit to be able to pull that off without destroyin' myself, but it doesn't mean I don't want it and it doesn't mean I don't regret that I'm above it." The keys are pulled from the ignition without waiting for a response from him. "Don't get out until I can make it around to help you, please." She was already making her way out of the car and to his door.

"But you are," above it, right as she's getting out of the car, shutting the door behind her. It's important to him to hammer that point home for some reason, but once she's opened up his door, he doesn't continue that line of thought, letting it go. Not resistant to any kind of assistance, he slings one arm across her shoulders, his other hand on the car's doorframe to help support him on his way to his feet. "Once Thomas gets here, you need to do something for me." Covering ground even more slowly on the way to the door than he had been on his way from the alley to the car. The adrenaline is wearing off, and he can't keep the pain out of his expression anymore; it keeps his voice tight, and he lowers it to keep it as steady as he can, to keep any waver out of it. "I need you to go home, get me a change of clothes, and tell Adam I got hurt but that I'll be okay. Can you do that for me?" Already going for his set of keys, and once he finds them in his jacket pocket, he picks out the key to his apartment, but he gives them up to Jackie. There's a tremor in his hands, and he doesn't want to find out if it's so bad that he'll have trouble with the lock.

She had undoubtedly heard him but she was more than happy to go the same route he was and ignore the conversation once she was helping heft him out of the car. It was better that he was so inclined to go slower, easier for her to help him along. At the same time the slow pace only manages to worry her. Either he was more relaxed now that they were somewhere familiar or he was getting worse the longer they went, she couldn't decide. Jackie is all ears when Ben says he needs her to do something for him and she's nodding along with his instructions. The only thing that makes her pause is when he says to tell Adam he got hurt. "Oh Lord, I don't even know what to tell him happened. Maybe you... fell down some stairs?" She looked him over briefly, wondering if the explanation would go along with his injuries, but she had to stop short because all of the blood was making her nauseous.

"That's fine, I got it handled. But if Thomas finishes before I get back you don't let him leave an' I mean it. That's my demand. I don't want you bein' alone. I promise I won't be long." She was doing her best to sound stern with him just as he had tried to do with her earlier, except it was ruined by an uneasy waver in her breathing as she took the keys from him and unlocked the door. He was ushered inside, a foot swinging back to close the door behind them, and she was moving him towards the bedroom. "If I remember correctly you got some pillows an' blankets in the bedroom. I just want you to take it easy, okay? Everything is gonna be alright now, we're good. Somehow, someway, no matter what happens to us we manage, don't we?"

"You can't lie to Adam." He doesn't even hesitate to tell her that. Hobbling along with her, he doesn't even give the rest of the bare apartment a glance. "Tell him what happened. Sam hurt somebody, so they hurt me." Sighing a little, and at least the coughing is short-lived this time. "He's not going to believe you if you lie. And he needs to know. I don't keep secrets from him." Not since finding Adam alive after two years of not knowing what had happened to him -- not since figuring out that it was all because of his past and the disorder it had created that Adam had been missing to begin with.

He goes along with her a little ways, turning down the short hallway that led to the bedroom, but he lists toward the bathroom instead. "I don't want Thomas in there." Asking the man for a favor like this, trusting him to not ask questions about injuries of this degree is one thing. The amount of trust needed to let somebody into that bedroom is something else entirely. "And I want to clean up what I can." He's heading into the bathroom, and if that means he has to let her go, he lets go. "Grab a couple blankets for me and shut the bedroom door when you leave it, yeah?"

This time it's Jackie who comes to an awkward halt when Ben says she can't lie to Adam. It doesn't last long since she needs to keep up with Ben to continue offering him support, but she's having a hard time giving into his demand otherwise. While Jackie was aware that Ben kept Adam further in the loop than most parents would, this was the first time when she would be the one having to lay it out for him. Having to discuss Sam with Adam. "Fine." Quiet, reluctant acceptance even if she didn't have the first clue how she was going to go about that. "I've never talked to him about this sort of stuff." The worry in her tone was because she was somehow convinced she was going to do it wrong, though she didn't want to ask him for advice since he had enough to dwell on.

She's already working out a worst case scenario in her head but her concentration is broken when he starts into the bathroom. Jackie looks between there and the bedroom then curses beneath her breath. "Right, of course. F*ck, I'm sorry." It was something she should have known, of course he wouldn't want the doctor going in there. She gets him into the bathroom to the point where he can support himself on the counter before she's carefully sliding out from underneath him. "Just take a seat, don't move, I got it all." She said it, but the confidence in her tone was rather lacking. Stupid little mistakes and missteps were being made and while they might not matter in the long run, she was upset she wasn't as well versed in emergency situations with Ben as she would like to imagine. She walks with purpose to the bedroom as asked and gathers up the blankets by the armful. Once outside the bedroom she closes the door with a sharp snap and drops the blankets in the hall just outside the bathroom door. "Did you leave anything in this apartment?" She was on a mission to for anything they could use to get some of the blood off him.

Somehow, under all the other emotion he's feeling -- pain, dread, anger, disbelief, fear -- he actually feels relieved that Jackie agrees to tell Adam the truth. He can tell she's reluctant and that she's concerned about it, but she doesn't ask, and he doesn't offer anything more than a quiet repetition, "He needs to know." Ben's not even sure why his son needs the truth of something like this, but thinking about deflecting questions about what happened or making up some story make the already building panic worse. Telling the truth, somehow, as complicated and not-good as it was, was easier -- even if it wasn't him that was doing the telling.

"No, it's okay," just a murmur in response to her apology. Maybe she should have known, but Ben doesn't seem offended that she didn't think of it. He doesn't exactly listen to her parting instructions; once she leaves him, he turns on the sink, and while he waits for the water to warm up, he struggles out of his suit jacket. Meaning to unbutton his shirt so he can take that off too -- it's bloodied beyond saving -- but his fingers fumble with the buttons too badly to get them undone, so he swears under his breath, gives up, and just starts to rinse his hands instead. The watered down red in the sink is hard to look at, but easier that than his almost unrecognizable reflection in the mirror. Once most of the blood there is washed away, he notices his knuckles are bruised black and blue already; somebody had put up a hell of a fight, but it's one he doesn't remember. "Yeah, there, uh..." Flexing his fingers absently, and then he's looking over toward the open door. "Should be a couple of dishtowels in the kitchen. Top drawer next to the stove." He waits until she's left to go to the kitchen, and then he turns off the water, sits down on the floor, leans back against the cabinet under the sink.

He didn't listen to her, but what was she going to do about it? She felt so out of step, out of whack, and unhelpful that if he was doing it against her suggestion then it was probably the right way to go. Jackie lingers in the doorway even after he tells her where to find the towels, pushing down the urge to want to simply sit at his feet and fret. It wasn't what he needed from her. Shoving out of the doorway she moved into the kitchen and wasted little time grabbing the dishtowels. One was ran under warm water while the other was left dry then she made her way back to the bathroom. Her gaze sank to meet him on the floor and the corners of her lips went along with it. Was this the look of a man giving up? It didn't seem like something Ben would do, but it was such a defeated position. Maybe, hopefully, she was simply reading too far into it.

"Let's get your shirt off, okay, baby?" It was soaked through with blood and she could smell the metallic aroma in the air which wasn't agreeing with her stomach at all. She needed to get as much of it off him as possible for his sake and maybe hers as well. Jackie sank down to her knees beside him setting the dishtowels across his leg. Without an invitation she was already reaching out to fumble with the slick buttons of his shirt. It made her notice the blood already coating her hand, the smudges of it running up and down her arms from helping him. Part of her had to be running on auto-pilot for any of this to be sane and acceptable, but when were they ever entirely sane and acceptable? "You doin' okay, baby? You still with me? Thomas should be here soon."

He really did seem defeated, the inaction, that he was just waiting for her to come back. Typically he was so take-charge, even moreso in a crisis situation. This wasn't like him at all. He doesn't respond when she talks to him, but his eyes do track her movements -- the red smeared along her arms, and then he looks down to the motion of her fingers at the buttons of his shirt. She'd started at the top, and he tries again, the bottom-most one. It's not long before he gives up on it again, annoyed; the wheeze of a sigh leads to a rasp of a cough -- and then a frustrated sound, though it almost, almost edges into something like a whimper. "I'm still here, yeah. With you. But I..." His gaze shifts to her face, and he's not all there, a little distant -- but maybe that's for the better-- "I'm sorry." One hand lifts, and his fingertips barely touch her cheek, then her hair. "I'm sorry." Maybe he would've said more, but only a few seconds later, there's a knock at the door.

It's unnatural to see Ben like this, but Jackie couldn't blame him. He was holding it together better than she was when she had her run in with Lonnie and her wounds from that weren't even physical like his, only mental. She manages to make quick work out of the buttons and doesn't stop him when he attempts to help. It's only when he gets frustrated that she tsks. "They're slippery and hard to get hold of," it's not his fault. He confirms he's still with her, "Good, sweetheart. You're doin' good." Though he tosses in a 'but' and it makes her brows rise as she finishes undoing the buttons of his cuffs. "But what?" And maybe that was it, that he was sorry. Automatically she's shaking her head, reacting in much of the same way he did when she said she was sorry. "Stop that, if I can't do it then neither can you. There's nothin' for you to be sorry in all of this so don't even say that." After that she's that much more determined to hold it together for him. He was always so strong for her when she needed it, he was strong weeks ago and took such good care of her when she felt like her world was falling apart after Lonnie had made her feel like less of a person. She eased him up and away from the cabinet enough to slide his shirt down off of him and toss it aside.

Before she could start wiping him down with the dishtowels there was a knock at the door. "Hang on one second!" Called over her shoulder then Jackie looked back to Ben. "Thomas is here. See? It's gonna be alright now. He knows what he's doing and you're gonna be just fine." A little more confidence managed to find its way into her tone even if it was all for show.

Even if he'd been more put together right now, Ben wouldn't be able to say what exactly he's even apologizing for. The situation? Truthfully, it's more than that. He'd intended on it being a ridiculous point, the dumb irrational end to the slippery slope of 'if only I hadn't...' but for some reason, it was sticking with him. It's worse, maybe, because even through the shocky daze he's settling into, he can sense the tension in her, how hard she's working to be strong for him, and more than anything, that hits him. It's moments like this, when her age doesn't show, when it isn't obvious how young she is -- when she shouldn't have to be dealing with things like this, when she shoulders so much responsibility -- those are the moments that he rethinks their decision to be together. Not because he doubts her ability to handle it, not anymore -- but because it isn't fair to her. She shouldn't have to.

It's really for the best that Ben was unable to voice the thoughts rambling through his mind, the idea that she shouldn't have to deal with the sorts of things that come along with being married to him. Or that maybe it would have been better if they held their ground last year when they said this was something that couldn't and shouldn't be. Unfortunately for them both, even if that was the case it was far too late now. The hypothetical "if we weren't together" was enough to make Jackie fit, so if he really did try to push the idea on her like it was sensible there would more than likely be a lotta hell to pay.

He keeps his hand lifted, moving to the side of her face again, ignoring the shake in his fingers, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "Got me. I'm only good 'cause you got me." It's not too much of a struggle to get the shirt off with her help (though he still grimaces, stifles a noise in his throat). His torso is already a mess of purple-black bruising, but if Jackie needed a bright spot, there was one to be had; it didn't seem like any of the blood came from injuries there. Must've all been from his nose, his mouth, head wounds -- and maybe his attackers. With Sam involved, it was likely.

She stayed on her knees beside him just a little while longer to make sure he was going to be alright while she ran to let Thomas in. While she pauses there for that moment after the knock at the door, he actually gives her a small, fleeting smile, picks up the damp towel she'd laid across his leg, and starts gingerly wiping some of the blood away from his face, one of his cheeks. "Gonna be fine here for a minute. Go." He watches her leave the room, but maybe some of her confidence had helped, because he doesn't give up on cleaning up in her absence.

Once she was satisfied she rose to her feet and moved to the door. It was opened just a crack at first, a squint given to the man on the other side. She didn't know what Thomas looked like, but since the odds of anyone else showing up here were next to impossible she eased back a few steps to open the door for him. "Thank you for comin', Dr. Thomas."

Jackie wanted to get home, get a change of clothes for Ben, get Adam up to speed and settled in for the night, then get back to Ben as quickly as she could. In her head the trip was going to take a half hour, tops. In true Sullivan fashion with the way their luck had been going lately, this wasn't the case. She had been gone for just under two hours when Jackie finally shoved her way through the front door of the apartment again. In addition to the duffel bag clutched in her hand at her side, Jackie had also changed into a pair of jean shorts, a black t-shirt, and a pair of boots. All traces of blood she had been sporting earlier on her hands, arms, face, and even in her hair had been washed away as well. The only thing that was still remained from earlier was her pinched brows and worried expression. "I'm back." It was the only sort of warning they got before Jackie continued on to find the pair.

The apartment is quiet when Jackie returns. The light was still on in the bathroom, but dimmed, and the pile of blankets Jackie had gotten from the bedroom and left in the hallway was gone -- pulled into the bathroom, where Ben is curled up in them, on the floor, dozing. Thomas is back to sitting on the side of the bathtub, brows pinched together in thought, almost worry, though when he hears Jackie, he leaves the room, goes to meet her in the hallway. "He's okay. Sleeping." He catches her by the elbow, steers her a couple of steps back toward the near-empty living room so he doesn't have to worry so much about keeping his voice down. "I was able to straighten out his nose, stop the bleeding. Ankle's just a bad sprain, so he needs to keep off of it for a few weeks. His ribs are pretty messed up, but there's not a lot I can do about those. He should relax as much as he can. Anything more than laying around doing nothing will probably hurt. Tylenol for now, until it's clear there isn't a concussion. I wrote him a script for vicodin after that's a little more sure." He hesitates, and it's obvious, but for now, he doesn't say whatever it is he's thinking.

Her pace slows when she sees Thomas and she wants to be relieved when he says Ben's okay, but the fact she was being turned around and shuffled into the living room managed to diminish that feeling. Jackie nods as Thomas explains and she really is listening to everything he says, but her attention keeps drifting over in the general direction of where Ben was on the other side of the wall. "That's fine so long as you told him that. He's horrible at sittin' around but if it's doctor's orders I'll have a better chance of makin' it stick." She looks back to Thomas in time to catch the verbal and visual cues of his hesitation and she can't let it slide by. Was there something he was keeping from her? Worried she couldn't handle it? "Whatever else is on your mind, Thomas, I would appreciate you tellin' me. He's goin' to be alright, isn't he? If he catches his rest, lets everything heal properly, he'll be okay?" Somehow she managed to sound scared and ready to shake him at a moment's notice if he didn't answer her all at the same time.

"Yeah, I tried telling him. Good luck making it stick." Thomas hasn't known Ben for long, but he can tell, already, that he isn't the sit-still-and-take-it-easy type. Right away, when Jackie pushes him on his hesitation, he looks a little sorry. "One of the first things I learned in med school is not to make promises, but... he should be okay as long as he takes it easy. There can always be complications after something like this, but it's rare. I think he'll be fine." That doesn't explain the hesitation, though, and after a few more seconds, "Have you ever noticed him... not being himself, kind of?" His voice drops a little lower. "He didn't have any concussion symptoms at first. No short term memory loss, could hold a conversation okay, no vomiting. Eyes were fine, wasn't dizzy, wasn't any more irritable than he always is. But then he just... changed. And yeah, unstable mood or personality change is a concussion symptom, but this wasn't like anything I've ever seen before. It was like he was a different person entirely." He sighs a little, rubs his forehead, just above the bridge of his nose, eyes shut, before opening them and dropping his hand. "I'm not trying to pry, and I don't need to know details. Just need to know if that sounds familiar to you, so I can rule it out as a symptom of something related to what happened to him tonight."

"I'm gonna need it." It had been the theme for the night, dropping jokes without actually meaning them and putting no effort into the delivery. The words were flat and she was still trying to figure out what was bothering him. "I understand nothin' comes with guarantees and I appreciate you bein' honest with me at least." Was that it? It made absolutely no sense to Jackie why that would cause the reaction Thomas had, but it only takes that first question for it to sink in. Her brows rose but she somehow managed to keep her eyes from widening with shock so her expression came across more as interested rather than unpleasantly surprised.

"Changed?" There was disbelief in her tone and if Ben could have heard her (was that even him in the bathroom?) he would have been proud. "What happened leadin' up to him actin' off? What was he actin' like?" Already she was mentally kicking herself, convinced that leaving had been the worst idea ever. Maybe, somehow, if she had been here she could have stopped whatever happened in her absence from occurring. It was probably a long shot, but it was another 'if I hadn't...' to add to the growing list of the evening. "I mean, if he didn't have all them symptoms of being concussed then maybe you just got to see a side of Ben he doesn't like showin' off much? He's been through a lot today and he's handlin' it with a lot more grace than I ever could. I don't want to add nothin' to his list of symptoms or my list of worries if it was only him realizin' what a sh*t situation this is, y'know?"

He wasn't expecting the questions from her, but he answers them anyway. "I was just checking out his ribs. We were talking, I was trying to keep his mind off of the pain when I could. And he just sort of... stopped. And then he was completely different. Afraid -- not just hurting or overwhelmed, but... afraid. Inconsolable. Like a kid or something, and out of nowhere." He sighs again. "It didn't last long. He even picked up our conversation once he was... normal again." Putting one hand on her shoulder, "Anything you tell me doesn't get out to anyone, you know that? You're his wife, doctor-patient privilege. So I'll tell you this, too -- if that doesn't sound normal, he really needs to come to the hospital. It could be something really, really wrong, Jackie. Like life-threatening wrong." His voice stays low, gentle, but he keeps his eyes on her.

Jackie is giving a slow nod as Thomas explains, biting her bottom lip to force her facial features into one position and keep them there so her realization doesn't shine through. Ted, the scared little boy taking up space in Ben's brain. Hard to explain, but weren't they all? Maybe it was the best in a worst case scenario if she had to choose amongst the boys. She would take Ted over Sam cussing and spitting at Thomas, Harry saying the best way to heal ribs was the strip club, or Ivan waxing poetic about how mending a man's body was useless since it was constantly decaying as is. Ted being a scared mess? She could deal with that. Her gaze swept aside at his hand on her shoulder then moved to his face again. Her volume was low, but it was hard to tell if she was doing that so she didn't wake Ben in the other room or it was the only way to control her irritation. "I don't know if he explained to you what happened, Thomas, but Ben has been to hell and back today. He could have very well died. I mean, he isn't even out of the woods yet and somethin' could still go wrong. The man had one moment of lettin' the weight of all that sink in on him then bounced right back, it ain't nothin' to hold over his head."

She realized too late in her little speech she was getting far too heated by the end and it wasn't needed, especially considering Thomas had done them a huge favor tonight. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be outta line and there is honestly nothin' I can say or do to properly repay you for everything you've done for us tonight. On the other hand, I am his wife an' if anything came across as odd to me in this I would be tellin' you." No, it wasn't odd at all. This was just another day in the life. "But I promise you I'll keep an eye on him in the next couple of weeks and if it seems like somethin' is wrong you'll be the first to know. I swear it, Thomas. I wouldn't do anything or withhold anythin' from you that could hurt him." But withholding Ben's DID, the fact that Thomas just had a brush with another personality, none of that seemed to sway the situation at hand so this was not the time for sharing.

Thomas deals with upset reactions of all sorts every day at work, so Jackie's moment of being heated doesn't faze him. What she says, though, and how she reacts, what she promises him -- it confirms his guess, as vague as it is. "Alright, Jackie. I just wanted to make sure you understood. We're on the same team, y'know?" He finally turns away to head back to the bathroom again. "I just need to get my stuff. If you can wait to get him home, let him sleep a little longer." Ben's still sleeping when Thomas ducks into the room to grab his bag, and slinging it over his shoulder, he's not really lingering in there, though he does pause in the hallway. "Getting in and out of the car is probably gonna be the worst for him right now. When you get him home, make him lay down, try to get him to stay there. Call me if you need anything, or if he starts showing any of those concussion symptoms or starts acting off." One step toward the front door. "You good? Questions?"

"I completely understand, Thomas. I know we are. You might not know Ben all that well or nothin', but you're a guy dedicated to helpin' people and you just helped the most important person I got in my life. That means a lot." She trails along after him to the hallway. Why? She wasn't sure. If Ben was asleep then nothing more could go wrong this evening, but letting Thomas out of her sight in the first place is what made her have to come up with a blatant lie on the fly, not something she wanted to repeat tonight.

"Sure, we got a lil' time. I'll wait as long as I can before we gotta get back home to my step-son." She followed him towards the door, her attention still shifting between the sleeping Ben and Thomas. Finally, she looked to Thomas and shook her head. "No, no questions, I think I got it all. But I'll call you to check in on everything, even if all's well I'll give you a ring in a few days so y'know what's going on." Because she wasn't hiding anything. "Like I said, I can't repay y'for what you did tonight an' I know Ben is thankful as hell, too, but I can at least start by invitin' you to dinner sometime in the future when Ben's feelin' a lil' more himself. You don't have to answer now, but just keep it in mind and know we would be real pleased to have you over."

"He's a good guy, Jackie. --you already know that. I couldn't say no." He shrugs a little. Doesn't get into what he'd hired Ben to help him with, but apparently it had been major. "So there's nothing to even think about repaying me for... but I won't say no to dinner. When he's feeling up to it. Thank you." One more smile, a little easier this time around. "Day or night. Any reason. You can call." He's at the door then, and he throws a, "G'night, Jackie," over his shoulder on his way out before closing the door behind him.

Her expression goes just a little smug, similar to Ben earlier when he was talking to Thomas about Jackie. He didn't have to tell her what a good guy Ben was, but she was always pleased when people knew like she did. "And thank you, Thomas. For everything." She didn't feel like she could say it enough but she didn't want to keep the man. More importantly, she wanted to get back to Ben. "Goodnight, Thomas. Drive safe." The door closed behind him and she twisted the locks into place before making her way to the bathroom. Jackie paused by the door to look over Ben, fast asleep in the mess of blankets.