Turning Over a New Leaf

The motorcycle screamed down an otherwise silent road. Rodney was fairly certain he had lost his pursuers, but he wasn’t sure. When he got to a straight patch of road he glanced at his arm. Blood was oozing out of a bullet hole in the bicep of his leather jacket. It wasn’t the only place blood was coming from and he could feel that much. Rodney swallowed his fear. “A few more miles... then I’ll rest... few more miles...”

He winced, and his vision blurred. Rodney reached for the snap securing his jacket around his neck and pulled, hoping the fresh air to the skin would keep him from falling asleep at the handlebars. He tried to wipe the blood and sweat from his face, though only managed to smear the former into his skin. Rodney shivered. “This isn’t good...”

Rodney’s motorcycle swerved as a coughing fit shook his entire body. He scowled, turned his head, and spat on the road. The man could tell by the taste that whatever he hacked up was at the very least tinted with blood.

A fenced-in farmhouse came into the man’s view in the near distance. Rodney quirked a feeble eyebrow at what he saw. “What do we have here...?” he mumbled, trying to keep the forces of sleep and unconsciousness at bay.

Not even two seconds later his eyes gave in, slowly closing of their own accord. The world went dark. His body went limp and leaned to the side. A bump in the road jostled the unconscious man from his seat on the motorcycle; he fell off and hit the pavement only moments before his motorcycle ran headlong into the fence. The hard fall sent pain to every hurt, forcing Rodney to wake with a shout. He glanced around, disoriented. “Guess here is where it ends... wherever here is...”

The world went dark once more.

Sam sat by a fire that were lit around the camp made both for light and warmth, plus it was a peaceful way to end the evening reading a book with nothing but the fire crackling beside you. There were a few people up and about who weren't tired or just couldn't sleep. Sam had to confess to herself it was hard to sleep these days. The only bits she got these days were when her eye simply refused to stay opened any longer.

She was just starting to nod off when she heard a sound coming towards the camp. Her head perked up trying to determine where it was coming from. Whatever it was it was getting quite close, to close really. Then she heard a crash come from their north gate, she and a few others decided to go and investigate outside the gate. Armed with crossbows just in case of ambush they approached the damaged area of the fence and discovered the wreaked motorcycle not far away someone spotted a man on the ground. And he wasn't in good shape. Sam went to see him for her self.

He had gunshot wounds in multiple places and other injuries possibly gained from the crash. She checked his pulse expecting him to not be alive she blinked to find a pulse still beating away. "He is still alive should get him back to camp and at least bandage his wounds" she said to the others who were waiting to hear what they should do with him.

Sam turned to two young men " You two go back to the house and get a stretcher for him, you will find in a closet next to the medical room" she said as a type of order.

As they ran to get the stretcher Sam turned back to the wounded man in front of her and took a few emergency bandages out of her jacket pocket to bandage him up and stop his further blood loss. " Can you here me Sir".. she asked trying to make out how, out of it the man was. "Just trying to bandage your wounds" she said wrapping a bandage around the wound on his arm. If he needed surgery it might be rough going.

Blue eyes fluttered open, closed, and opened again. Rodney was in and out of a desperate fight for consciousness. If he wasn’t in so much pain he would have said the sensation was making him seasick. The man was vaguely aware of and able to feel the thunderous vibration of footsteps heading for him.

“Mercedes...” he murmured. That was the last thing he could remember: his daughter. She wouldn’t come with him... he had to get away...

Rodney started reaching for a pistol that was strapped to a holster on his belt, but cringed when the wound in his arm flared. The fresh pain sent him soundly back into reality as he fully came to and remembered where he was. Rodney stared at Sam as though he only just noticed that she was there, his gaze weaving in and out of focus on her face. A cut on his forehead dripped blood into his line of sight that he tried to blink away. “Who are you?”

Try as he might, he only half heard her explanation. He was disoriented; it was almost like he was drunk. Rodney glanced down and watched Sam bandage his arm. “Oh, that... why didn’t you say so,” he grunted, followed by a yelp of pain as another of the camp’s inhabitants started bandaging one of his legs.

“My jacket’s reinforced... took some shrapnel damage, at most... And I can confirm at least one rib that feels broken...” Rodney tried to look around at the different faces, but between darkness and disorientation he had a hard time telling one person from another. “Don’t suppose any of the twenty of you might be a doctor?”

Sam helped her fellow comrades in bandaging the wounded man up and listened as he spoke. At least he was conscious now and even though he seemed a little disoriented he new what was happening. " My name is Sam I am more a field medic, we have a doctor inside, They'll have a look at you once you're good to move there. What is your name?" Sam explained to him as a stretcher was carried over for him.

"Easy he likely has broken ribs" she cautioned the guys who were getting ready to lift him to the stretcher.

Sam looked at the man again and noted he wore the same markings as the raiding group that was in the area. Or pirates as some people had started calling them.. Was he a raider? What made him crash into the encampment? All these were questions she would have to ask him later when he was in better shape.

When the stretcher was in place she moved to help lift him on to it. "This might hurt for a moment while we move you on to a stretcher" she stated so he knew what was happening. "On three.. One, Two, Three." she stated as they lifted.

Rodney blinked as she spoke, trying to get his vision to clear. “Field medic...” he echoed, and reached up with his uninjured arm to swipe his hair out of his eyes. It sounded like a military term but he couldn’t be certain in his addled state. “My name’s Rodney...”

Blue eyes followed to the best of their ability in the direction Sam spoke. He saw the stretcher but didn’t connect the dots that it was going to be used for him. His attention settled on the two guys and what they were wearing. No markings... both good and bad news, Rodney thought. With the hand of his good arm he gripped the largest patch of his jacket that marked him as a raider – or pirate, as some preferred to call them. Hopefully none of them spotted it... but unfortunately that wasn’t the only telling sign and he was in no condition to try to hide or dispose of the markings.

He settled his gaze on Sam again when she spoke, and could see her in slightly better focus now. “It already hurts, love. Doubt a little movement is really gonna do much more...”

Rodney held his breath and started gritting his teeth on ‘two’. He grunted once they started lifting and was determined not to cry out in pain... too much complaint and they would feel unable to move him. Rodney knew he needed to get off the road, and to do that he'd just have to take it. Once Rodney was on the stretcher he swore, followed by a few deep breaths while holding his ribs in place. “That wasn’t so bad, really...” he said and tried to laugh, only to groan in pain again.

Sam looked at Rodney in sympathy for a moment as they lifted him up on the stretcher. She had to give it to him for baring through the pain with his sense of humor still intact. "I suggest you avoid laughing Rodney. Until the good doctor has a chance to look at your Ribs" she said noting the pain he was in.

They got inside the camp soon enough, many people watched as they rushed through the camp with the stranger on the stretcher. Sam kept an eye on him as the moved in case his condition changed.

They had pain meds among other things in the medical ward they had set up once they started work on him he would feel better.

Rodney set his lips into a slightly crooked smirk. "Point taken... Hope your fellas know how to drive this thing.” It seemed as though they did: the trek into the camp only caused Rodney to complain once, when the stretcher was accidentally knocked into something.

Blue eyes blinked slowly at all of the people who gathered to watch him being brought in. “I feel like I’m in a freaking parade, with all these people watching my sorry arse getting dragged off to the infirmary...” he chuckled, keeping as much of the sound in his mouth as opposed to letting it sink to his chest and stomach. A familiar face in the crowd caught Rodney’s eye and he tried to sit up... but it was no use. “Jacob...” Rodney stopped struggling to sit up once the other man was well out of view.

He vaguely heard some of the people whispering about his markings. As far as he was concerned, some of them knew far too much about what each mark on his leather jacket decorated him for: his clan, his rank, his merits (of sorts), and his misdeeds. He wasn’t too far up on the ladder of pirate sociology, but his rank was high enough to raise concerns and he knew it. Rodney glared at a man who shouted a demand for him to be restrained, and his weapon confiscated. He glanced at Samantha and plastered a tired but cheeky grin to his face as they entered the medical ward. “Think the man neglected to notice that I’m bleeding from half a dozen places, and on the verge of passing out again?”

Sam continued to follow long side Rodney as they traveled through the camp, she expected a reaction like this, she wasn't surprised. A lot of people had everything taken from them cause of pirates in the area. However she wasn't about to condemn one man with out a chance to defend himself She stayed beside him just in case someone did something rash.

Plus the circumstances of his arrival have her doubting this was an attack of any kind. There was something more to it and she wanted to hear his story before calling him a pirate and throwing him jail. They already had a young woman in jail and even then she wasn't convinced she was a pirate either.

"Many people here have been through a lot of trouble with pirates.. it makes them hasty. We will deal with this later once you are recovered" Sam explained to him in her same rational voice as they brought him into a room with a bed and the doctor waiting to have a look at him.

Rodney was sore, bleeding, and light-headed, but he was also well aware that he was being given quite the escort. He couldn’t tell if it was in Sam’s nature to protect those who are wounded... or if she was there to keep the people in line. In the end it didn’t really matter.

The trip to the infirmary was uneventful. There was no way Rodney could have known the man he identified as Jacob followed them at a reasonable distance every step of the way.

Rodney gave Samantha a long, sideways glance. If the signs of his pirating weren’t so blatantly on his person he would ask her what she was talking about... but there was no point in playing dumb now. “If you insist... but I promise you it’s not a pretty story,” he sighed.

More people stood beside him as he was carried through the various rooms. Although the doctor wasn’t dressed in a white coat, Rodney felt that he could tell which one he would be entrusting his life to. “I hope you’ve got some wicked painkillers, Doc... either that or a keg...” Rodney muttered, trying his best to smirk through the pain moments before passing out once more.

Jacob watched from just outside the doorway. He quietly chuckled and shook his head. “Some things never change...” he whispered.

Sam stepped back and let the doctor take over as Rodney passed out. "Let me know how he is when your are done" she said to the doctor. It wasn't clear to her yet if Rodney would live through his injuries, but she had the feeling the man would survive. He seemed in the few minutes she had to speak with him to stubborn to die.

She turned around and saw a man at the door observing, she tried to flick though the names she knew of people in the camp. "Jacob? if I am correct?" she asked. She looked back at the unconscious Rodney and back to Jacob. "Do you know this man?" she asked out of curiosity. Could it really by that small of a world?

Jacob watched Samantha leave the doctors to their work, and hoped his old friend would be alright. He moved a slight distance away from the doorway to make way for the Major. The man gave her a smile and a nod. “Yep. That’d be me.”

He followed Sam’s gaze to the unconscious Rodney, and then back to focus on her. “Yeah. His name’s Rodney Briggs. One of my best friend’s buddies. Last I’d heard from him, he was really sick... just before people started dying. Looks like he managed to find himself some trouble to get into...” Jacob chuckled, though still had a layer of mild concern in his eyes. “... doesn’t surprise me, really.”

Sam seemed to think for a moment and nodded to Jacobs words, "He is wearing pirate colours, many people here have be victimized by them.. Trouble certainly seems to cover it.. Can your friend be trusted?" she asked point blank.

She knew many people would call for the man to be punished or at least put in a cell once his injuries were treated. But she was already having doubts about the girl in the cells right now.. they really had no proof she was a pirate.. it might have been a mistake. She didn't want to put another man in jail who needn't be there.

"I've had pirate troubles, too," Jacob sighed. He didn't seem to mind her blunt question, and gave it some serious thought. His forehead wrinkled slightly. "What you need to know about Rodney is he's basically a wild card. Before the world fell to pieces he'd get into a fair bit of mischief... police officers knew him by sight. Ever since Rodney's daughter was born, though, he mellowed out a lot. Back then, I'd tell you that he could be trusted most of the time.

"But now with the world turned upside down... I'm not sure what all's happened to make him go the pirate route. Doesn't seem the type to go after innocent people like that. He's more of a practical joker." Jacob shrugged.

Sam thought for a moment, before looking back at Jacob "Yes he seemed to give that.. vibe when he was conscious, honestly who can joke in that kinda condition?." she said taking a deep breath making up her mind to give Rodney a chance when he woke up. "Alright when he wakes up I will give him a chance.. and possibly not face jail time for pirate charges" she said looking back slightly in the direction of Rodney's room.

"When he wakes I will let you know first.. Since you are old friends perhaps it will do him good to see you" Sam said with a small smile, a part of her hoped this was all true and maybe a happy reunion was on the horizon. It would certainly warm her heart if so, not to many people got a reunion like that.

Jacob shrugged at her question. "Rodney will probably be doing his worst to make jokes and get people to laugh, even when he's on his deathbed. Always acts like he's not afraid of anything... and he doesn't always take things as seriously as he should." He nodded. "Dunno if he'll realize it or thank you himself... but thanks, for giving him a chance."

"I appreciate that. Another one of our old friends is here, too... a man named Daniel Stark. I'll let him know what's going on," Jacob smiled.

Sam looked back at Rodney's room and nodded "Perhaps a bit of joking is needed around here, especially now everyones ability to laugh might be hindered" she replied.

After thinking for a moment the Major continued, "Go and find your friend let him know. I have damage control to make sure no one does anything hasty to your friend" She said still concerned the some might be angry they are protecting a pirate. "When I get news on your friend I will let you know."

Jacob sighed, and nodded. There wasn't much more either of them could do by loitering around the doorway, the Major had work to do, and he had been in the process of putting his kids in bed before the excitement happened. "I will, Major. Thank you, for everything. I'll do what I can to help with any repairs just as soon as I get my kids to sleep," he said, walked by her, and made his way down the stairs to the tents he and his children have made their home.

* * A Day and a Half Later * *

Rodney groaned as he came to. He could feel the sticky adhesive of bandages taped to various body parts, his vision was blurry, and there was a nasty hitch in his chest with almost every breath he took. Blinking eased some of the blur. The man reached up to rub his eyes, only to poke himself in the forehead. A second try saw him reach too low and cuff his chin. Instead of getting exasperated, Rodney laughed. "Someone's given me the good stuff..." With a bit more effort he finally rubbed the crust of sleep out of his eyes.

He glanced around the room: white walls and hospital-like, but not quite that stark atmosphere most hospitals were notorious for. "Wonder where the hell I am?"

A young doctor walked over to Rodney, couldn't have been anymore then in his early 20s but he seemed to dress the part more then anyone else there. He wore a long white lab coat over his normal clothes. That consisted of a collared shirt, a tie and a vest that fit over them. He smiled slightly at Rodney and looked closely at him for a moment. "I would hardly say you are in hell.. But you are in the medical wing a military safe zone.. I suppose you could say?" The young man said with a tilt of his head.

"You were in a accident roughly 30 hours ago.. crashed your motorcycle right in to the walls. You were in rough shape but with some rest I think you will recover.. Oh how are you feeling by the way? your are on pain med's I assuming they are in effect?" he asked looking closely at him again as if expecting him not to answer or as if he already knew what he was going to say. Yet he almost seemed fascinated with him still.

Rodney jumped at the sound of another person’s voice, and winced as his ribs chastised him for moving so fast. He blinked at the man in front of him – pristine white coat, collared shirt, tie... all very normal-looking, yet thoroughly abnormal in the new world Rodney knew. “Military safe zone...” he echoed. Dark eyebrows furrowed. “I think I remember something about that.”

He listened to what the doctor had to say, and noticed how young he was. Maybe he wasn’t a full doctor yet. Rodney decided he didn’t care about technicalities; at least someone was there to bring him back from the brink of death. “I’ve had better days... But whoever gave me the pain meds has got a friend for life,” Rodney chuckled.

“How long until I can get back on my feet again, doc?”

Oliver the young Doctor continued to observe his patient, and took notes as he did so, needless to say for someone who had been in such an accident he was high spirits considering everything. But then again that might just been the meds, or perhaps not.. he decided further observation was needed.

He looked back at Rodney for a moment, and tilted his head contemplating the recovery time, before looking at his chart, since he found it hard to maintain eye contact. "All depends on your definition of on your feet, you will be able to stand in a few days or so with perhaps some help, Walking with out assistance pending all goes well perhaps another week maybe two" he said looking over his chart. "Full recovery time, is pending, will have to see how you feel after 2 weeks"

"Oh My name is Oliver by the way, Doctor Oliver Dawson" he introduced himself as if suddenly remembering he had told his patient his name yet.

“Two weeks...” Rodney winced at the thought of being stuck in a bed for that long. He supposed it was better than two years or bedridden for life. The man hadn’t a clue of how military safe zones worked, but if it was anything like the communities he’d found himself in before Rodney had the sinking feeling he’d be paying for his usage of medical supplies for months. “Dammit, Selena...” he muttered under his breath.

Blue eyes blinked at the introduction. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he didn’t know the other man’s name. Then again any doctor was always just ‘doc’ to Rodney, whether he knew their names or not. He bit his lip. “Rodney Briggs...” He adjusted his blanket to hide the pirate markings on his person as best he could, even though it was a futile effort by now.

“...What can you tell me about this place?”