Hi guys! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. I wanted to make it the best I could, since it's the last one. Thank you for your reviews and feedback; I really appreciate it.

Enjoy!

Danny aimlessly flipped a deck of cards through his hands, watching over Jack as he slept on the couch. His breathing had normalized, his chest rising and falling at a regular pace. Every now and then a breath would hitch, he'd wince, breathe out, then continue as before.

Soon after he had fallen asleep on the table, Merritt had carried him into the living room, as Dylan had requested. It had been a few hours since then, and Jack showed no sign of waking up. Danny understood this, remembering how absolutely exhausted the sleight was, but part of him still wished that he would wake up.

"He's gonna be out for a while."

The voice snapped Danny out of his mindless shuffling, as he looked up to see Dylan.

"I…. I know," Danny mumbled, slightly flustered.

Dylan smirked, letting out a small laugh. "You sure? You've been sitting here for…" he looked down at his watch. "...almost two hours."

"Oh. Didn't even realize," Danny responded curtly, repositioning the cards in his hands. Dylan looked down at him, slightly confused, then sat down in the chair next to him.

"He's fine, okay? It'll take some time, but he'll be ok. I promise. He's tough."

"Yeah, maybe a little too tough," Danny muttered, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"What?"

Danny's eyes traveled back up to Dylan, abandoning the cards still in his hand. He let out another annoyed breath. "It's just… he never tells us when anything's wrong. Like, a few months ago, we were trying a new trick, and we had this…fire thing, I don't know what it's called, and somehow the flame got away and just charred Jack's entire arm. Like absolutely burned him." Danny paused, dragging a hand over his face, recalling the memory. "You could smell the burning flesh. Of course, we were freaking out, trying to get him to run it under water, bandage it, whatever… He kept telling us 'No, I'm fine, it's nothing,' when his arm looked he had just crawled out of a burning building. We didn't listen, obviously. We took care of it as best we could. He just never made a big deal out of it, never admitted that it hurt like hell. Even after that, when we'd ask him how it was, he'd always dismiss the question, say it was nothing… I'd see him, though, trying to use it as little as possible, grimacing when he thought no one was looking, trying to….trying to hide it from us. Why us?" Danny paused again, glancing over at Jack. "Look." He got up and crept over to the side of the couch. Lightly grabbing Jack's arm, he lifted it up from where it was resting on his side. "He still has the scar."

Dylan felt his stomach turn, looking at the large red patch still covering a portion of Jack's arm from his wrist to his elbow. Although it seemed to be fading, the licks from the flames had left their marks.

"Oh, Jack…." Dylan whispered to himself, rubbing a hand over his face.

Danny nodded, gently laying Jack's arm back down on his side and returning to his seat. "I was talking to him in the other room, and he actually told me, ya know, that he was in pain. I mean, we had known it all along, I just wish…..just wish I didn't have to pry it out of him, that he would just tell us."

"Tell us what?"

Danny snapped his head around to see that Merritt had entered. He crossed the room and sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch, near the chairs that Danny and Dylan were sitting in. Realizing the mentalist wouldn't take "nothing" for an answer, Danny began to explain he and Dylan's conversation.

"Jack never tells us when he's hurt or something's wrong… He always tries to-"

"Well yeah, he's Jack," Merritt interrupted.

"I know that, dumbass," Danny retorted, annoyed. "I just wish he wasn't like that, is all I'm saying. Remember when his arm looked like a goddam hotdog?"

Merritt's eyes widened at the memory, and he shifted forward so his hands elbows were resting on his knees. "Yeah, that was pretty bad," he admitted, earning an arrogant look of triumph from Danny.

"Hotdog?"

Everyone jumped at the small voice from the couch, forgetting the subject of their conversation was in the room.

"Yeah….." Danny began, "...want a hotdog?"

"Good save," Merritt teased softly, trying not to laugh out loud.

Jack looked at him strangely; even in his sleep induced state, he could sense that something wasn't right.

"Since when do we… eat hotdogs?" he questioned. He then pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut. Gingerly swinging his legs over the side of the couch, he opened his eyes again and let out a shaky breath.

"Easy," Dylan warned, "your ribs aren't exactly in place."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Jack rasped, exhaling shallowly and placing a hand on his stomach. He took a shaky breath in and let it out slowly, waiting for the ache to pass. Once it did, he looked back up to Danny. "So, what were you… really talking about? 'Cause I've never seen any of you...eat a hotdog."

Danny stared at Jack for a second, not wanting to lie to him but not wanting to re-explain their conversation. His eyes traveled down to Jack's arm which was holding up his weight as it was anchored on the couch beside him. Danny lifted up his own arm and pointed to the spot where Jack's scar was. Understanding, Jack lifted up his own arm, painfully shifting his weight on to his other arm. He examined the scar, then laughed a little. "I guess it kinda did look like a hotdog." Lifting his gaze from the remains of the flames, he met Danny and Merritt's eyes again. "Wait, but why were you talking about-"

"Because, Jack," Danny started, the same annoyance and frustration from earlier returning, "you never tell us when something's wrong. Exhibit A-" he pointed to the sleight's arm- "and we just recently experienced Exhibit B."

Jack's cheeks flushed red, and he laughed nervously. "Exhibit B was not my favorite."

"Me neither," Dylan mumbled, still feeling guilty for causing Jack so much pain.

"Yeah, so next time you bust your ribs in or fry your arm or do anything stupid, tell us. Okay?" Danny said. He felt like a mother protecting her child, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn't really mind taking on the 'protector' role.

"Okay," Jack replied sheepishly, seeming like the child in the situation.

Daniel sighed, glad to have Jack agree with him. "Good," he replied, getting up to leave the living room. He ruffled a hand through Jack's hair as he passed by, earning a goofy smile from the sleight.

Reaching the kitchen, he began to make some coffee for himself and the other horsemen. As he ran through the familiar process, he felt as if he now had a new responsibility to protect Jack, to help him recover. He kind of liked it.

Upon returning to the living room a few minutes after, he found Lula had joined them. She was sitting on the coffee table and seemingly interrogating Jack about his injuries. He was laughing at her extreme concern, continually telling her he was fine, which surprisingly, he really was. Yes, his torso still suffered from a constant ache, but there was no more shooting pain, and he was able to string his sentences together without frequently pausing.

"I'm fine, really, I'm ok," he assured her, his childish grin gracing his lips.

"Are you sure?" Lula questioned, still not entirely believing him.

Jack tossed his head back on the couch, letting out a playful frustrated sigh.

"Yes! I'm fine…..Look!" he said to her, lifting up his shirt so she could see the bandage tightly wrapped around his torso.

Giggles shook her frame at the sight of Jack so excitedly showing her his new wrap.

"Ok? Ok," Jack laughed, lowering his shirt back over the bandage. He reached out and took her hands in his as she continued giggling.

"Are we good now?" he asked, still laughing himself.

Lula smiled at him and nodded. She ran a hand along his cheek and planting a kiss on his lips. "Yes, we're good," she giggled, dancing a hand through his hair.

Dylan and Merritt smiled at the two from the chairs they were sitting in across the room.

"At least he's better," Danny remarked, sipping his coffee.

"Yeah, that was rough," Merritt commented. "I've never seen Jack cry. That must have hurt like hell."

Danny nodded, lowering the mug from his mouth. "Yeah, he said it felt like his insides were in a blender...and the blender was on fire."

Merritt chuckled a little at the description, being able to imagine Jack saying something like that. "He never lost his sense of humor, did he?"

Danny returned the laugh. "Typical Jack."

Dylan had joined Jack and Lula by the couch, deciding to examine Jack's ribs one more time before he left.

"I'm gonna undo the bandage, okay?" Dylan explained as he sat down on the coffee table. Jack nodded, lifting his shirt up so Dylan could access the wrap. Dylan ran his hand along Jack's torso, searching for the place where Danny had sealed it off. "Where…." he muttered.

"DANNY!" Jack yelled across the room.

Dylan recoiled, as Jack's scream echoed in his head. "JACK! Why?!"

Jack laughed at his reaction. "I just felt like yelling… I feel live I've been whispering for the past few days," he replied, giggling to himself.

Dylan couldn't but help let out a small laugh. "Fair enough, kid."

"WHAT JACK?" Danny's shout came from across the room, sounding extremely annoyed.

"WHERE DID YOU END THE BANDAGE?"

"ABOVE YOUR HIP, IDIOT."

"THANK YOU!"

Dylan quickly located the seal and ripped it off from the rest of the wrap. As he undid the bandage, he noticed that Jack's breathing was becoming labored again, followed by small grimaces.

"This is why," Dylan began, passing the rolled up bandage behind Jack, "you don't scream after you busted your ribs."

Jack smiled sheepishly, his breath hitching in his throat. "Sorry," he croaked.

Dylan smirked down at Jack, taking the last piece of the bandage off and coiling it up.

"Alright, let's see…."

He ran his hands along the bruises that were still mottling Jack's skin. They somehow looked worse then before; darker, more colorful. Jack craned his head up and let out a defeated sigh.

"Why do they look worse?" he groaned.

"Because as bruises heal, they look worse. This is good, Jack," Dylan explained.

"Oh, good, 'cause that looks nasty" Jack replied, somewhat relieved.

Dylan laughed at his childishness, then continued. Applying pressure to the marks, he felt Jack flinch under his touch.

"Does that still hurt?"

Jack let out a breath. "Yeah."

"How bad?"

"It doesn't feel good, but it's not as bad as before."

Dylan smiled at the progress made. "Good."

He helped Jack back into a sitting position, taking hold of the horseman's hand and gently pulling him up. Danny and Merritt had entered the room, silently watching the re-examination.

Dylan continued lightly pressing and prodding the bruises, Jack only slightly wincing. Jack watched Dylan's hands run along his torso. He noticed bruising along Dylan's arm, and curiosity overcame him. "What's-" he sat up, pushing against Dylan's touch "-that?"

Confused, Dylan looked down at his own arm. Recalling what it was from, he let out a nervous laugh. "That's from when you tried to take off my arm while I was setting your ribs. You have quite the death grip," he responded sheepishly.

Jack's eyes widened. "Oh shit, I'm sorry," he apologized.

Dylan laughed again. "Compared to what I put you through, that's nothing."

Jack smiled up at him, not feeling as guilty as he did before.

Dylan finished checking over Jack and picked up the bandage from the table. "You don't need this anymore," he told him.

The grin that escaped Jack's face was mirrored on the rest of the horsemen in the room.

"Just don't do anything crazy, take it easy, don't scream…." Danny and Jack immediately looked at each other, Danny still mildly annoyed, and Jack still amused at himself. "...and don't beat each other up. Please," Dylan finished.

Danny smirked at Jack, blowing out a small laugh. "We'll see."

Dylan said his goodbyes to his horsemen and made his way over to the door. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in the doorway.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Stay away from motorcycles."

Well, there you go! Thank you all for the support. I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please let me know what you think. I don't know if I'll write another story, but if anyone has any ideas, please let me know! I'd be happy to hear. Thank you again!