Every minute that passed felt like a year. They were still waiting for Oliver to come back. The medics had argued that Jack needed to get to the hospital to be treated properly, but he insisted he wasn't leaving, not until he knew his boyfriend was alive. He didn't want to sit in a comfy, warm bed, and worry about Oliver, when he was still out here, fighting Jack's father. Thankfully, they left it alone, and Woe came back with his mother, who had her hands cuffed behind her back. She glared daggers at Jack. Jack glared at her with a look that could wither flowers, and she looked away, towards the ground as Woe opened the door. "You and your husband will not be put on trial for your actions and will get a life sentence for attempted murder. Now, if you would get in the car-" But Jack's father came up behind him, and slashed downward, trying to kill the officer. The rest of the cops rushed to his defense, which gave his mother a chance to run off, and he tried to go after her, but stumbled and fell. Harley barley managed to catch him. "You stay here. I'll deal with her." "No, wait, don't-! And she's gone." He sighed, placing his palm on his forehead, and trying to ignore the way his leg bounced from his anxiety. He watched the scene before him, now frozen. His father was throwing punches and kicks, delivering stabs and cuts, smiling like a physco, blood running down his face. He broke from the circle of cops, and came at Jack. But he pulled the knife from his belt, something he'd have to explain, and blocked it, scowling with all his hatred. "Hey, hey! You can't fight in your condition-HEY!" One of the medics yelled, but he pushed his father to the ground, and stabbed him in the stomach. That stopped him. "I'm fine. And if you think I won't defend myself, no matter my condition, then your wrong. But Harley ran off after my mother, and Oliver's out there-" On the ground, his father chuckled. "He might....b-be as good.....as....d-dead." Jack couldn't stop himself. "Can't you learn to shut the hell up?!" He delivered a kick to the head and his father went limp. The cops stared at him, some showing fear, some scowling, and some completely calm. "It was an act of self-defense. Now, can you go find my friends, please?" He told them, keeping his anger out of his voice. He was enraged at his parents, not the cops, or the medics. "We're going. Medics, leave that man to rot. He was getting a life sentence anyway, but he's better off dead." The medics both nodded, and helped Jack back into the ambulance, lowering him on the bed. "Thanks..." They put a breathing mask on him, and told him to lie down, so he obeyed.
*******
He didn't know how long it had been when Harley finally came back, with Oliver beside her, panting, and leaning on her for support. Jack sat up, and took the mask off so he could speak. "Oliver...." His boyfriend had blood running down his face, and covering his arms, but that wasn't the worst. There was a hole in his hand. One so deep, he could almost see through it. "What the hell did he do to you?!" Jack raged, grabbing a kit, and wiping the blood off of him once he sat down. "I'm fine. And isn't this the medics job?" "Oh, don't give me that bullshit! You have a hole in your hand!! Your head is bleeding. Your arms are drenched in blood-" But Oliver pecked him on the lips, shutting him up. "I know that. But I'm-" "Don't you say it." Jack warned, giving him his best death glare. "I'll be fine." That was better. "I guess it'll work." Suddenly, he grabbed Jack's arm, and looked at the long, zigzag line of stitches that ran down his arm. "What happened to you?" "Now that everyone's here, were heading to the hospital."