Disclaimer: The characters of "Mary Poppins Returns" belong to PL Travers and Disney.

Author's Note: This picks up sometime after Chapter 10 of "The Chimpanzoo" and sees the Epilogue from Jacks' POV.

Wilkins shoved the barrel of the gun at his forehead. "I'd rather you were Michael Banks," he growled. "But I'll settle for you."

"Go on then," a voice snapped. "I'm right here."

Jack had never been so happy to hear Michael Banks' voice in his life. He'd only known the man and his family a month or two, but he considered him a friend. He'd also spent the last 24 hours protecting his son from a man only slightly off his rocker. And more than once during this ordeal, he'd wished for both Michael and his sister to stage a rescue—finally!

Wilkins let go of him and turned. Jack could see Michael, a police officer, all three Banks' children (Georgie was wearing his hat-how did he always get hold of his hat?) and-he closed his eyes in relief-Michael's sister Jane. Through the fog of pain creeping into his mind, Jack saw Wilkins raise the gun in their direction.

It wasn't going to happen. Not if he could help it. With his right hand, the only one with any movement available to him, he shoved Wilkins' hand down toward the floor. The gun went off and the shot pinged off the floor and up into the cement wall. So quickly he thought he'd imagined it, suddenly Jane was by his side, supporting him as he slid down the wall. Through his hazy and fading vision, he thought he saw Michael lay Wilkins out with a punch and then, nothing.

Sometimes, it happened differently in his head.

Wilkins let go of him and turned, the gun firing before Jack could even think. He heard a scream and Michael Banks was staggering under the weight of his sister, who was dropping to the floor, a splash of red blossoming on her shirt.

"NO!"

Jack's eyes snapped open and he shot straight up in bed. Hands grabbed him, holding him in place as he came out of the nightmare, eyes wild.

"Jack!" a voice echoed in his ears. "Jack, 's okay. You're all right, mate!"

His heart pounding, Jack turned to see Angus's face peering at him from under his cap. The younger leerie had hold of his right arm, concern in his eyes. "I-where-?" Jack shook his head, trying to clear away the vision of Jane Banks lying there…

"The hospital," Angus relayed. The hospital. Jack's eyes flickered around the room, taking in the sickly green color on the walls, the sterile lights on the ceiling and the blinding white of the bed he was in. He looked down at his left arm, wrapped tightly against his bare chest. He could see the threads of stitches poking out over the top of a square piece of gauze taped to his shoulder.

Memories came flooding back. The banker, the one who tried to take the Bankses home, taking him and Georgie Banks at gunpoint. The gun going off and the bullet lodging in his shoulder. Twenty-four hours locked in a room with a barred door.

"Where's Georgie?" he demanded. "He all right?"

Angus nodded. "Jus' left, with 'is family," he assured him. "They're all fine," he said. "The young 'uns were gettin' sleepy, they've been here with you ever since you came back from Croydon."

Jack lay back down, his heart rate returning to normal. Georgie was fine. The Bankses were fine. But what about…He looked down at his chest again.

"Ah, good, you're awake," a new voice said, and Jack and Angus both looked up to see the doctor in the doorway. He seemed a decent sort in his white coat, glasses framing a pair of brown eyes under thinning white hair. He took a step into the room. "Hello, Jack. My name is Doctor O'Hara."

"Doc," Jack nodded to him.

"You've been here almost thirty-six hours," Dr. O'Hara told him. "The Bankses brought you in with a bullet in your shoulder. Sounds like you're quite the hero, sir."

Hero? He frowned. "'m no hero," he objected.

The doctor smiled. "The young boy who came in with you might disagree, from what I've heard," he said. "We operated on your shoulder, removed the bullet. You've got some cracked ribs that will heal nicely, I think, and a nasty bruise on your head. It'll be quite the Easter egg for awhile, but that should fade."

Jack heard what he hadn't mentioned. "And what's the news on m' arm?" he asked quietly. He could wiggle his fingers, so it wasn't all bad…he hoped.

Angus and the doctor exchanged a look before the doctor spoke. "The bullet tore up the muscles in your shoulder," he explained. "Add to that leaving it untreated for as long as it was, on top of what I suspect must have been a hell of a fight-"

Jack did dimly recall a banker falling on his shoulder.

"-and I'm afraid…" Dr. O'Hara trailed off, as if trying to figure out how to break it to him.

Jack closed his eyes and leaned back on the pillow. "We can try to rehabilitate it with a bit of physical therapy, but the damage was extensive. It's entirely possible you'll only have limited mobility in your left arm…" the doctor said.

Think positive, Jack, the voice in his head was telling him, drowning out the last part of that sentence. "When can we start?" he asked out loud, opening his eyes. He didn't want to spend any more time in the hospital than he had to. He didn't like being stuck in a room in bed. "Only I've got a job to get back to."

"And he hates being cooped up," Angus supplied helpfully, and Jack shot him a Look.

Dr. O'Hara smiled at him. "I can see you're going to be trouble Mr…" he trailed off, checking the chart. "I apologize, it appears we don't have a surname for you."

Jack nodded. "You wouldn't," he said quietly. "As I'm not entirely sure if it myself. I jus' go by Jack."

"Right then, Jack. Give your shoulder a day or two to rest, and then we shall see what can be done about rehabilitation," Dr. O'Hara told him. He nodded to Angus and left the room, dropping Jack's chart at the foot of the bed on his way out.

"Me 'an the boys'll cover your route," Angus told Jack. "Til you're back on your feet."

"It's appreciated," Jack told him. "I ah, think I'd like to be alone for a bit, if you don' mind," he requested.

Angus nodded. "Oh, aye. Course. I'll jus' head back then, tell the boys you're awake I guess." He was talking to himself, Jack's eyes were closed again.

Limited mobility. Extensive damage. Big words, but Jack knew what they meant.

I've only got one good arm for the rest of my life.

Jack's fingers curled around the weight. He could get a pretty decent grip on it, he noted with satisfaction. Nice to have one bright lining, he thought.

The nurse, he thought her name was Sarah, gave him an encouraging smile. "Wonderful, Jack," she said. "Now, let's try a lift, shall we?"

He stared down the length of his arm, at the little weight at the end of his wrist. He felt like he was concentrating harder on this one movement than he did riding his bike or lighting the lamps. Perhaps I am, he realized. A lot was riding on this. Willing his left arm to move, he began to raise his arm from where it was resting at his side. Pain rippled from somewhere near his shoulder, and he held his breath.

"Easy," Sarah murmured. "Don't hurt yourself."

Jack wasn't listening. Come on, then, he thought at it. Just a little bit far-

He blanched as white-hot fire radiated from his shoulder, and the weight clattered to the floor, nearly landing on his foot and making a patient in another bed over jump in surprise.

"Jack!" Sarah admonished. "Are you-"

"Please don't finish that question," Jack cut her off through gritted teeth. "I want to try it again."

Sarah bit her lip. "Jack, maybe that's-"

"Once more," he ground out. He looked at her, his face flushed. Sarah thought she saw moisture at the corners of his eyes.

"It's best not to overdo it," she said gently, resting a hand on his good arm.

He pulled away.

Jack lifted his head high enough off the floor to see Wilkins come in with Georgie. He practically dumped the boy on the floor just inside the door. From where he was lying on his back in the middle of the floor, he saw Wilkins eye him with contempt, then disappear from view.

Georgie was still lying on the ground. "Georgie," Jack whispered, trying to lift himself onto one elbow. The boy didn't answer.

"Georgie?" Jack crawled painfully across the floor to where the boy was lying still by the doorway. He rested a hand on the boy's back.

He wasn't breathing.

Jack awoke in a cold sweat. Moonlight streamed in through the window, giving the room a strange green glow. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. He leaned back on the pillow, breathing heavily. He ran a hand down his face, it came away wet and clammy.

It's all right, he told himself. Georgie's all right. You got him out. You got him out and he rescued you back, so to speak.

I have to get out of here, he thought. It's the hospital. It's giving me nightmares.

He wondered who lit his lamps that evening. Wondered who would put them out in just a few hours' time when the sun came up.

Wondered if he would ever get to do it himself again.

"Good morning, Jack," Dr. O'Hara greeted him. Jack glanced at him through tired eyes. He hadn't been able to get back to sleep the night before.

Jack nodded tiredly. "'ello, Doc," he said.

Dr. O'Hara frowned. "Rough night, then?" He wasn't expecting an answer; the look on his patient's face said enough. "Is it the pain?" he questioned.

Jack shook his head.

"Would you tell me if it was?"

Nothing.

"Right then," Dr. O'Hara said. "Let's give you a once-over here," he said. He uncovered the incision on Jack's shoulder, studied the stitches, a black, jagged line. "You know, Sarah tells me you're working hard in therapy," he said casually. "I can tell you're good at your job, you've got a good work ethic. Maybe a little too good," he added. He dropped the stethoscope to his neck and looked down at Jack. "Jack, if you overdo it, you could do irreparable damage to your shoulder. If you take the time to do your rehabilitation the right way, there's no reason you couldn't get your arm in proper condition."

Jack refused to meet his eyes.

"I realize this must be difficult for you-"

"Do you?" Jack's voice was a hardened whisper. He looked up at him. "Could you do your job with only one arm?" he asked him. "I have to ride a bicycle over cobblestone streets that rattle my teeth because my wheels are wooden. They used all the rubber in the War. Got to balance a torch and ladder on top of it. Climb the ladder, turn the gas, light the lamp." He knew the steps by heart. "On the bike, ride a few yards, off the bike, and so on."

"All that will be possible again-"

"Right now, Doc," Jack cut him off. "Feels a bit impossible." He closed his eyes and turned away from him in the bed.

Dr. O'Hara opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it. He backed away from his bed.

"He's given up," Sarah told Dr. O'Hara a few days later. "He goes at it half-heartedly, and then he just stops."

"I see," the doctor mused. He glanced up to see two familiar faces standing at the reception desk. "Perhaps he needs some additional motivation." He excused himself from a very confused-looking Sarah and made his way over to the new arrivals.

"I hear you told the doctor your recovery was impossible," a voice spoke from Jack's bedside. Jack was on his side, looking out the window. He tensed when he recognized the voice, and he turned to see Michael Banks standing there, hat and coat in his arms.

Michael looked at him the way a stern parent would. "You of all people, Jack, should know nothing is impossible." He found a spare chair and slid it over, draping his jacket over the back of it. "Were you thinking it was impossible when you climbed Big Ben?" he asked him. "When Georgie caught Mary Poppins on a kite?"

Jack said nothing. He knew a lecture when he heard one, and knew Michael wasn't really expecting an answer. He did, out of respect for his friend, turn to lie on his back so he was actually facing him, however.

"You know, I never did thank you properly," Michael told him. "For everything you did. For saving my home. For protecting Georgie from Mr. Wilkins…" He took a breath and let it out. "I'm indebted to you forever, Jack. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you. You've saved my family twice now." He ran a hand over his face, trying to stay composed. "Georgie's been having nightmares," he said, and Jack frowned. "Jack, if you hadn't been there…those nightmares…they would've come true. My worst nightmare," he said. "If you hadn't pushed him out that window, if you hadn't been there with him…" Michael shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "That you have to go through this. That Wilkins did what he did to you."

Jack was quiet. Then, "I wouldn't've changed a thing," he whispered. "Not one decision. All I could think about was keepin' Georgie safe."

"I know," Michael assured him. "But Jack, if you could make it through that…" He pointed to his arm. "Then nothing should be impossible, should it?" He stood up, gathered his coat. "We're looking forward to seeing you down Cherry Tree Lane soon, Jack." He grinned. "Jane and the children especially."

As an afterthought, he added, "Nowhere to go but up, eh?"

Jack smiled. "Nowhere but up," he agreed. Michael put on his hat and nodded to Jack.

"Got time for another visitor?" Angus poked his head around the doorway, nodding politely to Michael as he made his way out. The younger leerie came into the room, closely followed by Dr. O'Hara. "All right then, Jack?" he asked.

Jack grinned at him. "Better," he agreed.

"Good, 'cause you're bustin' out o' here today," Angus clapped his hands together. "Doc's givin' you your ticket out."

Jack looked at Dr. O'Hara in confusion.

"Just as soon as we cut those stitches. Seems to me we've done all we can for you here," the doctor explained. "Sarah'll be sad to see you go, but I've assigned you a new therapist for your shoulder."

"Who-" Jack began, but paused as he saw Angus's grin widen. He pointed at his friend. "You?"

"Me," Angus grinned. "Now get dressed; 's a might chilly out there today."

"I don't understand," Jack said a few moments later as Angus and he walked down the hospital stairs. Fresh air…freedom…It felt amazing just to be outside! "What'd the doc mean, you're my new therapist?"

"Well, 'e don't know what a leerie's job is all about," Angus said. "Said you told 'im the basics, though," he added with a sly wink. Jack bit his lip; he did feel bad about moaning and groaning at the doctor though. "Anyway, what better way to get ya back in shape to do your job than this?"

Jack laughed. "Teach away," he bowed to Angus, wincing just a bit at his shoulder.

Angus grinned. "Oh, this'll be a right good time," he laughed.

It felt all wrong. Jack's balance was thrown. It was easier to steer the bicycle with the ladder and carry his torch with both hands on the handlebars. Now, he found he couldn't grip the handlebar tight enough, that it hurt to get his arm raised high enough to even reach the handlebar.

"I don' envy Bert," Angus said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You musta been a joy to teach to ride a bike the first time round."

"Oh shut up," Jack frowned, putting his feet down on the ground to steady the bike. He glanced around. The park was empty and thank goodness for that. Because he did indeed feel like he was nine years old again and learning to ride a bicycle for the first time all over again. He closed his eyes in frustration.

"We can stop if you like," Angus spoke up. The younger man wrung his hat in his hands.

"No," Jack said immediately. He looked at the bike beneath him. "Nothin' is impossible." He put his right hand on the handlebar, pushed off with his feet. The bike wobbled, but he adjusted his weight to balance it. He rode in a slow circle around the gazebo, wheels creaking on the sidewalk. After a few circles, he leaned back a bit in the seat and let go with his right hand, keeping the bike balanced with his body, using his right hand when he needed to go around the circle.

Angus gave a whoop as Jack coasted to a stop in front of him, using his feet to brake. "Yes!" he cheered. "You did it!"

Jack's ears tinged pink. "Oh shove off," he brushed it off. "It's just ridin' a bike. Not like it's climbin' Big Ben," he shrugged with his good shoulder.

"It is for you," Angus pointed out, and Jack paused. "You know, the Doc said that what usually works wasn't workin' for you, so he thought gettin' you out and about would work better." He pointed to the bike. "Bet ya wouldn' be doin' that in no hospital, would you?"

Jack shook his head. "One o' these days, you're gonna give me your weep 'n wail about why you hate hospitals so much," Angus told him.

"One o' these days," Jack agreed quietly. "But not this one. Let's go find me a lamp an' a ladder. I want to see if I can still do that part o' my job. Don't do much good to ride the bike if that's all I can do, now is it?"

Angus grinned and Jack returned it. "You're doin' great, Doc Angus," he assured the younger man, and Angus scuffed one shoe in the dirt, obviously pleased. "Sarah was prettier, though," Jack added, and Angus laughed and punched him in the good arm.

Tonight was the night. The weeks had been long, but Jack hadn't been idle. Working with Angus, he'd become quite adept at riding his bicycle with one or no hands, turning corners with his right hand and leaning, his left arm hanging down at his side, or held ever so slightly out, as a counterweight. He couldn't raise it much past his ribs, and indeed, after a visit back to Dr. O'Hara, was informed that was probably all the movement he would ever have in it.

But it was working. He could do his job. At first, Angus had gone with him but soon, he was doing his route on his own.

He'd been skipping Cherry Tree Lane, not wanting Jane or the children to see him until he was fully able to do it on his own. His pride wouldn't let him.

Tonight though…he held his lamplighter's torch in his right hand as he steered the bicycle down the middle of the street, wooden wheels rattling over the cobblestones.

A familiar voice shouted his name from just up ahead, at number 17. "Jack!"

Jack put his feet down to stop his bike, climbed off and set it against the lamppost. Georgie Banks came flying off the porch of 17 Cherry Tree Lane, headed his direction.

Jack couldn't stop the grin as he warned, "Look before you cross!"

Georgie barely gave either side half a glance before he was throwing himself into Jack's arms. Jack adjusted on the fly and bending down so that Georgie was hugging his mostly good side. "Hello, friend. It's good to see you." He looked Georgie up and down. The boy looked happy, and seemed to have no ill effects from their time as prisoners in the Chimpanzoo. Jack wondered if he was still having nightmares.

"We've missed you!" Georgie told him, immediately reaching for Jack's hat and cramming it onto his own head. "Are you better?"

Jack nodded. "Very much so." To prove it, he lifted his left arm as high as he could get it before it started to protest. "And you?" he asked seriously, giving the boy another once over.

His young friend was nodding enthusiastically. "Father says the wolf is in the Chimpanzoo, but he won't be getting out ever again." He leaned in, whispering, "Sometimes I dream about it, but Father reminds me I'm safe at home."

Jack smiled. Good man, Michael. "Smart man, your father." He whispered back, "I think about it sometimes too." The nightmares were less frequent now, though, that he was out of the hospital. "But we're out of the zoo now, so all's well," he said brightly.

Georgie's eyes lit up. "Jack, the Chimpanzoo! You can finish the story tonight!"

Jack frowned. "Oh, Georgie, I don't know, I've got a lot-"

"We're all curious to know how it ends," Jane Banks said, crossing the street and effectively ending any argument he would have had. Jack's heart skipped a beat as she came over. In the fading light, she looked lovely in a pair of black slacks and a red blouse. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing it was a useless gesture. In "It's good to see you back on your bike," she told Jack seriously.

"Feels a bit weird," Jack admitted. "Watch this, though," he added with a grin, climbing back on his bike. With Jane Banks watching, he felt like he could fly, and he couldn't resist showing off, just a little. He put his good hand on his handlebar, his torch pinched between the handlebar and his hand. He pushed off with his bike and rode up the block, then turned back toward the Banks'. Then, he let go with both hands, pedaling with no hands, twirling his torch in his right hand. He sped past a cheering Georgie and a laughing Jane before turning another circle and coming back, hopping off his bike with a proud smile.

"Well done!" Jane told him, applauding. "It doesn't even really seem like you've slowed down at all."

Jack's smile faded, just a little. "Oh, it takes me a bit longer," he assured her. "But I'm just glad to be moving anywhere at all. Been in bed for far too long. I've missed my route, missed my fellows, and especially...missed you all," he finished awkwardly.

"And you're sure you can't stay?" Jane asked him, injecting a bit of pleading into her voice.

Georgie looked back and forth between the two adults. Jack stepped closer to Jane, and Georgie scrambled to get out of the way, grabbing onto Jack's leg and looking up at him. Jack glanced down at him, then up at his aunt. "I don't want to impose," Jack tried.

This is useless, you git, you know you'd skive off anything if anybody in this family asked you for something...especially these two, he thought, trying to keep a straight face. He knew full well what his answer would be. He'd missed them a lot. The whole family, Michael, John and Annabel, but Jane and Georgie especially.

"I insist," Jane said with a smile. "We've all missed you."

Jack looked down at her. "Even Michael?" he teased her, his eyes sparkling.

She rolled her eyes and he couldn't help but laugh. "Just a few minutes," she tried again. "At least finish the story you started. Everyone-including Michael-has missed your stories."

"You have to come get your hat!" Georgie insisted, and took off running toward the house even as Jack tried to swipe it off his head.

"Oi!" Jack yelled after him, but Georgie, giggling, was already in the house. He shook his head. "That boy is somethin' else, isn't he," he sighed, looking down at Jane. "Runs in the family, I guess."

Jane said nothing, just glanced at him from under her eyelashes with a quiet smile. His heart was turning somersaults now, with that look. He blinked to clear his head, then, had an idea. He lit his torch, placed the ladder against the lamppost, and then held his torch out to Jane. "Have a go?" he offered.

It didn't surprise him that she was immediately on the ladder, climbing. Jane wasn't a woman to shy away from something new or a challenge, Jack knew. He steadied the ladder before standing on the bottom rung. "Turn the gas on, gently," he explained. She reached a hand up, carefully opening the valve. Jack gently pushed her elbow toward the inside of the lamp, and waited. The sound of her gasp and laugh as the flame caught the gas inside made him shiver. He hopped off the bottom rung and reached up with his right hand, offering her a hand down. She started climbing, but as she came down, the heel of her shoe caught on the rung, and she gasped as she started falling backwards, colliding with Jack. The two of them fell to the pavement; him hitting the sidewalk first and her landing on top of him. He couldn't help the groan of pain that the impact had.

"Oh Jack," Jane gasped, looking down at him from where she'd fallen across his chest. "I'm so sorry! Your arm-"

"'S all right," Jack assured her, ignoring the dull roar in his shoulder. He looked up at her, lost in her eyes for a moment. Nowhere to go but up… "I've got the one good arm to hold you with," he said quietly, reaching up with his right arm as he made it to a sitting position. His fingers slid around the back of her neck, tangling in her hair. He felt her breath catch, felt her hesitate, just a moment, before allowing him to pull her close to him and kiss her.

"Yes!" someone shouted from across the street, and Jack let go hurriedly, turning to see John, Annabel and Georgie in the doorway, heads stacked on top of each other between the doorframe and the open door…their father on top of the stack with a knowing grin at his sister. Jack's ears tinged pink with embarrassment. 'M not sorry, though, he told himself. Whatever Michael Banks has to say later, this was worth it.

"Michael Banks! Close that door!" Jane scolded him from across the street. Her brother burst out laughing even as he shooed the children back inside. "Is this what it's like, then?" Jane asked Jack, shaking her head in embarrassment. "Being in your Chimpanzoo?"

Jack laughed softly and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as he recited,

"Laughs, laughs, nothing but laughs,

But you know who's laughing at who?

It's the animals there who giggle and stare

Gape with glee incredulously,

At the boisterous, bumptious, rowdy crew

At you in the Chimpanzoo!"

Her laugh was worth all the hardship in rehabilitation. "Well now," Jack told her, now that the audience had disappeared. "You're not a half bad leerie, Jane Banks."

She punched him lightly in the chest. "I did one lamp, Jack."

Now or never… "Would you…that is…" Jack gestured to his bicycle. "Do a few more? That is…would you want to take a walk with me while I finish Cherry Tree Lane?" he asked her. "I wouldn't say no to the company."

Jane looked back at the house, and Jack mentally kicked himself. "Oh, no, it's suppertime for you all, isn't it? Past it, I'd wager, considering how slow I am lately. Another time, may-"

To his surprise, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him, effectively silencing him. "We've already eaten, and I have time," she told him. She picked up his torch, tossed it in the air, and caught it one-handed. "But I get to try the next lamp on my own," she informed him, pointing it at him.

Jack grinned. "After you," he gestured, picking up the ladder and following after her.

He'd have to come back for his bike.