A/N: So I know it's been forever and a day, sorry guys!

xxxx

Jake groaned as he slowly fought his way to consciousness, the pain that had been held at bay by medication and sedatives suddenly making itself very much known.

"Jake?" Someone said, and he felt a hand settle on his, something stroking around the IV port in his hand. He blinked his eyes open finally, peering blearily at someone he soon realized was his mother.

"Mom?" He muttered, and she nodded, brushing a hand through his hair and settling on his cheek.

"Hi baby," she whispered, and Jake managed a weak smile.

"Mom," he muttered again. Where was Tommy? Why the hell did everything hurt so much?

"Oh sweetheart," Mom said quietly, her voice cracking. "I am so, so sorry, baby." Jake was disconcerted to notice through the painful haze that she was crying, sobs shaking her whole body as she bent over him.

"'M okay," he mumbled, lifting a heavy hand to rest on her back. She continued to sob, fisting her hands into his gown, shoulders heaving. Jake felt awkward, trying to stroke her back as well as he could, wincing as a spike of pain shot through his chest. He hadn't cried since the accident had happened, at least not that he could remember (he wasn't sure what had happened while he'd been out of it), and here his mother was blubbering over him. What was he supposed to do?

"Jake, it's okay to let it out," his mother said finally, sitting upright and wiping her smeared mascara from her cheeks. Jake grit his teeth. He didn't want to let it out, and he sure as hell didn't want to let it out in front of his mother. No way.

"'M okay," he repeated, and then there was another bolt of pain that stole his breath away and made him whimper despite his best efforts.

"Oh, you're in pain, hang on a second," Mom said, and then she was crying again as she hit the call button, shoulders shaking as she turned away from him.

"Mom, stop…please," Jake rasped out. He coughed heavily, groaning at the resulting pain, and his mother gripped his hand. At least she had stopped crying.

"I'm sorry, Jake, I'm sorry," she said, and Jake wasn't sure if she was apologizing, again, for his injury, or if she was apologizing for crying all over him. His musings were interrupted when a nurse entered the room and injected something into his IV port, and then the world fell away against all his efforts to remain awake.

xxxx

The interview wasn't going as well as Tom had been hoping. He was distracted, unable to get away from the thought of Jake lying broken and crumpled in a hospital bed, writhing in pain and trying not to scream…

"Mr. Sully?"

Tom looked up, startled. Ken Riley was looking at him in concern, one leg crossed and a data pad in hand.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry," he stuttered finally, sitting up straighter and feeling the color rise in his cheeks.

"Mr. Sully, is there something the matter? If there is something going on that you consider more important than this program, than I suggest you go take care of it."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Riley. My, uh, my brother is in the hospital, and I'm concerned about him. I'll try to focus more clearly on the interview. My apologies."

Riley wasn't as heartless as he was trying to appear, and he frowned when Tom spoke.

"Oh. I'm sorry for my inconsideration. Is your brother going to recover?"

Tom shrugged, trying to hold his emotions in.

"Eventually, I hope. I am sorry. Should we continue with the interview?"

Riley settled back in his chair, peering intently at Tom. He appeared to be sizing him up.

"Actually, I think I have what I need. Thank you for coming, and you'll hear within two weeks of our decision."

"Thank you sir, have a good day," Tom said, standing up and extending his hand forward.

"You too, Tom, and I hope that your brother gets well soon."

"As do I," Tom said, then walked out the door.

xxxx

Jake was pissy. As soon as Tom walked in, he knew that his brother was mad, and not just mad but fuming.

"You should've been here this morning," he grumbled. "Mom was crying all over me and then they came and knocked me out again, and I am getting sick and tired of it in here. Why can't they just give me some damn pain pills and send me home?"

Tom helped Jake sit more uprightly against his pillows and settled into the chair next to Jake's bed.

"You know that you aren't ready to go home, Jake. Your lung is still healing and they're continuing to watch your urine output-"

"Could you not talk about my urine, please?" Jake snapped, and Tom hid a smile.

"The point is, little brother, that you are nowhere near ready to go. So just hang in here and try not to drive the nurses insane."

"Easy for you to say. I'm stuck in this bed and I don't like daytime TV and I don't want to watch a movie and there's nothing to do."

Tom sighed and cradled his head in his hands, not wanting to think about how likely it was that his brother was going to be stuck, if not in a bed than at least in a wheelchair, for the rest of his life.

"What do you want to do then, Jake?" He asked, glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye.

"I want-" Jake's voice stopped suddenly, grew softer. "I want to go for a run."

Tom felt a lump rising in his own throat as he found himself ruffling Jake's hair, uncertain of what he should say.

"I want to go bowling. I want to go golfing. I want to be able to walk to the damn bathroom on my own."

"Jake-" Tom started without any idea where he was going.

"Fuck," Jake whispered lightly, clenching his fists in the blanket. "Fuck."

"Jake," Tom said again, but Jake shook his head, jaw clenching and tears streaming down his face.

"I can't move, Tommy. What the hell am I supposed to do? I get out of here, and then what? I don't have a home here. I haven't been stateside in years and I don't have anywhere to go. I'm going to have to live with Mom, damn it, and I'm going to have to rely on her to do everything for me. Even if I can get in a wheelchair, I don't have a career anymore. What does a fucking crippled marine do?"

Tom leant over and gathered his brother into his arms, mindful of the tubes and the wires and the bandages, tucking his brothers head to his own shoulder, smelling the clean hospital smell of his hair and feeling the minute trembles running through his brother's body. He couldn't help but feel like he'd been through this before, but this time was so horribly consuming-This time he knew that Jake was understanding for the first time the full ramifications of what was happening to him.

"We'll get through this. You'll live with me, okay? No way in hell I'm letting you live with Mom. I love her to death, but we both know that neither of us wants to live with her again. And you're going to be able to get around. You've still got the upper body strength of a beast, and that's not going to change, so don't think of yourself as helpless, you understand me?"

Tom sat back from his brother and held him at arm's length.

"Look at me, Jake. Look at me."

Jake finally lifted his head and looked into his brother's face.

"You're going to be fine. You're going to be the finest fucking cripple the Marines have ever seen, you hear me? They're going to wish they could have you back."

Jake snorted and raised a hand to wipe away the snot that was dripping lazily down his face.

"Hell yes they will."

Tom grinned and playfully punched his brother in the shoulder, painfully surprised and proud of the strength in the punch that Jake returned.

"I brought a deck of cards. Let's see if that poker face of yours got any better in Venezuela," Tom said finally.

Jake threw back his head and laughed.

xxxx

Tom left to go home eventually, and Mom came back. This time, Anna Sully was over her crying phase. She'd talked to Tommy about Jake, knowing that he'd have more insight into his twin than anyone else, and had decided that she could be a hard-ass if that's what Jake needed. And looking at her stubborn, slightly broken son, she knew that that was definitely what he needed.

"Mom, you don't have to stay," Jake repeated for the fourth time, and Anna shook her head.

"I'm staying, Jake, so why don't you just shut your mouth and close your eyes and get some rest, okay?"

"Mom?"

"Yeah, Jake?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now get some sleep."

Jake nodded and shut his eyes, and soon his breathing evened out and Anna knew her baby was asleep. She set her knitting down and just looked at him for a few moments; the angular jaw and the straight nose he'd inherited from his father, the eyes that were framed by long lashes and that looked full of mischief and orneriness when he was awake, the lips that were turned down ever so slightly, the ears that curved in close to his head.

He jerked suddenly, whimpered a bit, and Anna knew the classic signs of one of his nightmares. She gently stroked his hair, thumbed his forehead, watched as he settled down until he was sleeping peacefully again. Anna smiled ruefully. Even asleep, her boy knew how to make her worry.

xxxx

The twins had come too early. Anna had been lying down (bedrest was supposed to help, but it wasn't enough and she was certain that she'd done something wrong) when she'd felt a dampness between her legs and spreading down, and she knew instinctively that her water had broken. She'd shouted for Daniel (because this was before he'd left her with two newborn sons to run away with his gym instructor) and he'd come in red-faced and worried, then called an ambulance and sat by his wife, one hand clenched in hers as the other played with his eyebrow, twirled a bit of hair.

The doctors were concerned. They tried to hide it, of course, but she'd heard a nurse whisper something about a 'baby in distress' and they were going to perform an emergency C-section. She was scared, terrified even, but Daniel had kept his grasp on his hand, had been allowed to suit up and go in with her. She had been awake the whole time, had been able to hear but not see or feel what was happening.

The babies hadn't cried. Neither of them. She had glanced to the side and seen the doctor working over one tiny form, and then another doctor doing the same beside him.

The first cry was Tommy. It was a plaintive, tiny sound, but it made Anna weep, and Daniel with her. Jake's cry had come later, had been even smaller, if that was possible.

She hadn't been able to hold them.

They were in the NICU while she was recovering, and as soon as she was well enough to sit in a wheelchair, Anna demanded to see them. They were both so tiny, with little tubes and wires covering them, the smallest diaper seeming to dwarf their teeny bottoms. She'd cried some more, when Jake developed a fever, when Tommy dropped weight instead of gaining it.

It wasn't until the doctor put them in the same little incubator, at Anna's suggestion and Daniel's insistence, that they'd started to thrive. Only a week after being put together, they were both looking much better, and Anna got to hold them for the first time. Tommy had been quiet and calm, taking everything in with wide eyes when he was awake, sleeping soundly when he slept. Jake had seemed ornery even then. He'd squirmed and kicked during both waking and sleeping hours, and he cried angrily and loudly when something wasn't going his way.

xxxx

Looking down at her sleeping son, watching with a small smile as he kicked out every so often, Anna couldn't help but think that things hadn't changed much.