Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Now You see Me. And I'm incredibly broke. There's no need to sue.

Warning: The medical procedures stated in this chapter are mostly my imagination and some stuff online. Not 100 percent true!

Jack groaned softly as he turned over in bed, hiking the comforter further up his chin. He felt absolutely miserable, and he didn't want to get out of bed. But he didn't want the others to know he wasn't feeling well either. He was already babied to within an inch of his life, and while he was usually not opposed to the attention – who was he kidding, he absolutely loved to be the center of attention – today, he had a strange feeling to not let the others know how crappy he felt. Maybe he should have let the others know when he fell into that freezing lake, he mused. Dylan had still not returned from New York, but his grounding had been over almost a week ago, and one of his first orders of business was to seek out the few friends he had made in their short stay in the Southern town and get into some harmless mischief. And because they were them and he was him, their supposedly harmless bit of mischief ended up in Jack almost drowning in freezing temperatures. He had been pulled out almost immediately, and though having swallowed a couple mouthfuls of frigid water, he assumed he was not under long enough to cause any serious problems. He was wrong.

He suppressed a wet hacking cough in the pillow, wincing at the pain that flared up in his chest. If he was going to keep up the charade of being in perfect health, he better get out of bed soon, lest one of his self- appointed nannies come get him. With more effort than he would like he dragged himself wearily out of bed and into the bathroom, not even sparing a glance toward the unmade bed. His best efforts always ended up in the other guys making it all over again anyway, and he couldn't spare the energy.

The remaining horsemen jerked their heads up almost simultaneously at the sound of the shower running in Jack's room. Merritt from some weird show on TV, Henley from a fashion magazine and Danny halfway down the stairs with a book under his arm.

"Jack's awake?" Danny intoned, sparing a glance at his watch. "At 8:43 in the morning?"

"Strange" Henley added

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, fellas" Merritt said. "Perhaps, the boy is turning over a new leaf"

Henley and Danny scoffed together. "Were you waking up before noon during the holidays when you were a teenager?"

Merritt mused. "Fair point"

"Maybe he didn't get time to shower last night"

"Yea, he went straight to bed. Didn't even wake up for food"

"He was kinda out of it too. Has been these past couple of days actually. Almost asleep on his feet. Must have been really exhausted"

"Or sick"

Merritt and Henley swiveled to face Danny, who took a second to process what he himself had so nonchalantly insinuated before they all got up as one and started up the stairs towards Jack's room. The boy in question shuffled bleary-eyed out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind him and so deep in his misery he was he didn't notice the audience he had, until Merritt cleared his throat loudly. He jumped, then grabbed onto the bathroom door to steady himself when his vision swam.

"Jesus, guys. A little warning next time? Wanna give me a heart attack?" Jack snipped, then eyed them warily. They couldn't know, could they? He had been careful. "Why are you in my room anyway?"

"Oh, you know, just checking on our favorite person in the world" Merritt said with a flick of his wrist, while walking around to Jack's closet. "So how have you been Jackie?" he asked casually, flinging a pair of jeans and a shirt at Jack.

"I can dress myself, Merritt, thank you" Jack quipped. "And I was fine until you barged in here like you own the place. What the hell anyway? None of you ever heard of doors or knocking?" he asked, irritated

Henley hid a smile. Jack always got defensive when he was caught in a lie or was trying to shift attention, which made it all the more worrying. What was he trying to hide this time? Could he really be sick? She decided to just bait him. "Danny, get the thermometer. Why didn't you tell us you were sick, Jack?"

Jack sputtered as he tried to come up with an answer. "W-What? Hen, I'm not… I'm not sick. Why would you think that?"

The signs were much clearer now, Merritt thought, as he took in Jack's flushed face and tense shoulders, like he was trying to hold in a sneeze or a cough. He sighed and pushed the trembling teen over to the bed- shirt forgotten on the ground as the effort to put it on proved too much for the boy- pushing him against the pillows and pulling up the sheets. "Gig's up Jackie. Just give up already. And stop holding in that cough or sneeze. You're beginning to look blue" Merritt said, patting his cheek, only to move his hand with a hiss. "Damn, Jack, you're burning up"

"It's really warm in here" Jack mumbled from the cocoon

"It's really not" Henley rebutted, as Danny came in with the thermometer. She took it from him and turned back to Jack. "Open up"

Jack whined and burrowed deeper into the bed. He was extremely tired and he could care less now if his sickness came to light.

Henley forced the thermometer between his lips and settled back to wait for the beep. She filled Danny in on what had transpired when he was gone, both scoffing over what goes on in Jack's head and how he possibly thought he could get away with sickness. The thermometer beeped after a couple of minutes and Henley took it out, frowning at Jack's lethargic look and too bright eyes. He hadn't looked that bad when they came in, did he? Her answer came a split second later when she gave a sharp gasp and dropped the thermometer onto the bed. "Danny, get my coat. Merritt, grab Jack. We're going to the hospital" she said as she flew out the door and down the stairs into the garage.

"Wha-What?" Danny sputtered. "Hospital, Hen what…" he was interrupted when the redhead shoved the thermometer under his nose. He took a second to read the numbers. "Oh shit! This is bad". He met Merritt's questioning gaze. "106.8. How the hell was he still standing?"

Merritt gathered Jack up in his arms as soon as the numbers left Danny's lips, sprinting down the stairs to meet Henley in the car. He had just settled Jack in the back seat and slid in beside him when Danny came running out the door, Henley's coat in one hand and Jack's sneakers and socks and discarded shirt in the other. How he had time to grab all that, Merritt never knew, moving Jack into his lap and pulling the seatbelt across both of them just in time for Henley to lurch across the compound.

Everything was a blur after they got to the hospital. Firstly, Henley's driving was way over the speed limit, gifting them a police escort all the way to the hospital since she wouldn't stop for 'even the apocalypse'. Then Danny sprinted out of the jeep before it had even come fully to a stop, almost face planting in the process and yelling at the top of his voice for a doctor. After that, it was a whirlwind of activity, as Jack was pried from Merritt's arms and deposited on a gurney, an oxygen mask snapped to his face and people in white coats yelling about ice packs and cold baths.

And then came the time to play the waiting game. Henley paced dizzyingly across the waiting room, her heels making clicks on the floor, as Danny tapped his foot in worried impatience and Merritt tried to fill in Jack's information.

"It's been over an hour, right?" Henley spoke suddenly, making Danny jump a little at the unexpectedness. "What is taking so long?"

"It's barely been forty minutes Henley. They'll come talk to us when they have something substantial. Try to relax" Merritt said

She nodded, before beginning to pace again, only to stop suddenly a few minutes later. "Oh God!"

Danny jerked up. "What? What is 'Oh God'?"

"We haven't called Dylan" she stated simply

Eyes widened as realization dawned. "He's going to kill us" Danny moaned, before delving his hand into his pocket in an attempt to pull out his phone. "Oh no. I think I left mine". He looked around. "Merritt, you got yours?" Merritt shook his head

"I think mine's in the car" Henley spoke, watching almost absent mindedly as Danny practically raced to the car. Her focus promptly returned as a doctor approached them. She almost tripped as she turned mid stride to face the man. "How is he? Is he going to be okay? Will there be brain damage? Will ….?"

"Calm down, miss" the doctor tried to soothe. "Mr. …"

"Jack. Just Jack"

"Jack is in very delicate condition. He has a severe case of pneumonia, and an infected cut on his left leg just above his ankle. That combined with the infection in his lungs is what gave him such a high fever…"

"Pneumonia? It's the middle of summer. How in the hell did he get pneumonia?" Merritt asked disbelievingly

"You'd be surprised what kids get into these days" the doctor replied, just as Danny returned. "He also has a sprained wrist and some light bruising on the ribs. What is more alarming though, is…"

"There's more?" Danny croaked. "I thought this was a simple fever"

The doctor turned to him, face grave. "I'm afraid not. He suffered intracranial epidural hematoma from whatever happened. That, along with the unusually high fever, can cause permanent brain damage"

"Wha-What?" Henley squeaked

"We're going to have to operate, and we'll do that as soon as he's stable enough. We've managed to bring down his temperature some, but at 103.4, that's still high. We are also administering some antibiotics that will help with the infections. I need Jack's parent or guardian's consent to proceed though. The procedure we are about to perform on him is relatively new, though effective, but he has to meet some criteria first. Otherwise, it could do more harm than good. Can you get someone like that down here as soon as possible?" the doctor ended, looking at the dazed and confused trio before him.

Merritt shook himself out of the trance to stutter a reply at the good doctor, watching through half lidded eyes as he returned to his work. He looked at the younger horsemen beside him, who seemed to still be in shock.

"How did he hide all that?" Danny finally managed to whisper

"Oh Jackie" Henley moaned

"Danny, did you get Henley's phone? We need to call Dylan right now" Merritt requested of the somehow still stunned young man, who passed him the phone distractedly. He dialed the familiar numbers and waited for it to connect.

Dylan couldn't remember how he had gotten to the airport. He vaguely recalled picking up the phone and grumbling 'Rhodes' before his world came to a standstill. The five words that caused this, though, he remembered clear as day.

Dylan, something's happened to Jack.

After that, he loosely remembered yelling at his secretary to get him on a plane in the next half hour. And then he demanded to speak to Jack's doctor, practically threatened him to 'make sure my boy does not die', and then started to rattle off the information they needed to operate. The only calm part of the situation came when the confused doctor told Dylan the age he had given for Jack and the one Merritt had put on his form did not match, prompting Dylan to calmly state that 'he's seventeen. Merritt must have been under immense pressure'.He felt slightly bad for putting Merritt out like that- he had planned to tell them as soon as he got back, and then made sure Jack remembered never to lie about his age again- but it was the best he could do from here. The information itself had been found by Alma, who was doing some research on the horsemen before she flew in to join the task force in America that was going to be working with them. Oh, yea, that was another thing he was going to discuss with his horsemen. Anyway, his sweet Alma had found the information and, after the initial anger and shock at Jack's life before their little group, had decided to tell the horsemen about the new development in person.

He sighed and turned to look at the beautiful lady beside him. "They'll be happy to see you; you know". She hummed, then furrowed her brows as she kept reading. He stole a glance at her laptop to see what she was reading. He sighed again. "Alma, why are you still reading this? The doctor said his temperature was falling steadily, and that the fever was almost gone"

She hummed again, then turned to look at his screen. "What do they say about the head thing?" she asked, nodding towards his screen where he was reading on intracranial epidural hematoma.

He promptly shut the laptop. "I don't want to read anymore. It's just messing with my mind. I can't stop imagining stuff"

Alma sighed. "Me too". She added after a pause, "I really hope he's okay"

They wouldn't allow him to see Jack. Dylan had done everything he could; from shoving his badge in their faces to threatening to relieve them of their jobs, everything short of pulling a gun on them, and he was considering that right now. He also refused to see any sense whatsoever in their explanation. His temperature had finally gotten to a safe enough figure that they could now operate, if only Dylan would sign some papers. He hastily signed of course, and after assuring them that yes, he's really seventeen several times, they finally wheeled Jack into the operating room, and then the waiting game began all over again.

"Danny, get Mr. Rogers on the phone" Dylan demanded

Danny made the call, then sat back with the others while Dylan interrogated the poor Rogers' boy. What was his name again? Devon. Yes, that was it. He hoped whatever Devon had to tell Dylan about how Jack found himself in such dire condition would calm the man down. He tuned out the conversation as he looked around the waiting room. Alma carded her hand through Henley's hair and Merritt sat with his chin propped up by his elbow. Danny plopped himself down beside Merritt and resigned himself to waiting.

He didn't know when he fell asleep or how long he had been sleeping. He must have really been tired to have been able to nod off with all that was going on. They had been at the hospital for about thirty-six hours now, and all the worrying and stress-filled hours had taken its toll. Next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by Dylan, who apparently had managed to settle him on one of the sofa-like waiting chairs; the hospital was really big, and the southern town didn't have too many people, hence the very spacious and almost empty waiting room.

"Hey" Dylan said softly as Danny blinked up at him. "They moved Jack into the ICU. He's still out of it, but we've been allowed to sit with him. Alma is already in there with Merritt. I thought I'd let you and Henley sleep a little bit more"

Danny was instantly more awake after the words Jack and ICU. "No, its fine. I want to see him. Is he okay? How was the surgery? What did the doctors say? And the…"

"Danny, calm down" Dylan cut in with a slight chuckle. "Jack's going to be just fine. The doctors said it was touch and go for a while but that he came through okay. He's young, and even though he'll need a bit of time to recover, he's going to be okay"

"Oh, thank God" Danny breathed. "I was… I was really scared this time Dylan"

Dylan swept the young man into a hug. "I know Danny. Me too". He run a hand through his curls. They felt coarse, a testament to how long ago since he had taken a shower. Hopefully, his next one will be very soon, Dylan thought as he kissed Danny's head. "Should we go see the little troublemaker now?"

Everything looked blurry when he opened his eyes. And should eyes be that heavy? What had he been doing last night that made him feel like a truck had plowed over him? He tried to push himself out of bed and immediately sucked in a breath at the sharp pain that lanced through his leg and his head. Reflexive tears of pain leaked out from beneath his tightly closed eyelids. He didn't even hear himself let out a cry. But he did hear some muffled voices suddenly start talking.

"…ack…you…hen…sweetie…doctor…come on…eyes…scare…Jack...jack!"

Jack couldn't make heads or tails of what they were saying, but he did open his eyes again to look into the faces of Dylan and Danny and Alma. Wait, Alma?

"Jack, sweetie, how are you feeling?" Alma asked, a hint of worry lingering in her voice

Jack tried to open his mouth and say something, but his voice came out as a croak. His hands flew to his throat as panic flashed in his eyes as to why he couldn't speak. Instead of his throat however, his hands made it to his face, and Jack being Jack decided he didn't want the nasal canula and tried to rip it off his face. Dylan's hands stopped him, and he squirmed in discomfort as more tears run down his cheeks, wondering why no one was making any attempt to relieve his pain.

"Where is that damn doctor?" Danny cursed, at the same time that Henley came running in with the doctor. "He's in pain. Why is he in pain?"

"The shock of waking up" the doctor said as he flashed a light in Jack's eyes. "It will wear off soon. Mostly anyway. This new procedure is very effective. Instead of splitting headaches and double vision, he'll have mild to medium headaches; nothing that some paracetamol cannot solve. He'll be given some antibacterial for the pneumonia and the leg wound, and some ointment for the bruises. His leg though, he'll need crutches for a while, a couple of weeks at the most. Barring any complications, which I seriously doubt, he should be able to leave tomorrow morning"

"Tomorrow? Isn't that a bit early? I mean, he just had surgery" Henley said, concerned

The doctor smiled. "Like I said, the experimental procedure is very effective. It is a milestone for medicine across the globe. Now if you'll excuse me"

The small group watched the doctor as he left. Jack had fallen back to sleep, and Dylan and Alma settled down to wait. They had managed to convince (cough order), Henley and Danny to go home and freshen up and grab some clean clothes for Jack. Merritt had been away getting coffee and doughnuts when the doctor had been in so Dylan filled him in when he returned. Now, with Danny and Henley gone, Merritt snoozing in the chair and Alma outright sleeping, Dylan had a moment with his boy. He run his hand through Jack's short cropped hair- it had to be cut to accommodate the surgery, and there will be yelling about that later, he was sure- and kissed his head. He took the time to savor Jack's breaths on his face, a sign that he was still alive and just sleeping. He grabbed the boy's hand tightly as his body finally released all the built-up tension of the last couple of days.

Jack was okay. Jack was going to be fine.