* J *

Part Twenty-Five: Chapter 186 White Lie

"Yer shot," Harley says as she looks down at the spot Jason was cradling.

"Yes. I'm aware," he says and winces when Harley touches it.

"Come on," Harley tugs at his hand, "I'm tha only one who can fix ya up without burnin their hands." She leads him to the lab.

Frost's muffled screams filled the entire room as Ivy try to wash away some of the blood. "You're going to need blood," Ivy says as she tries to stop the bleeding. Ivy looks up at Ace and says, "Get a doctor here now."

Ace nods and rushes from the room. This is like a fire drill to him. This protocol had been initiated many times. It's used in instances when the vast medical knowledge of Mr. J or his clowns is exceeded. And make no mistake about it, the lifestyle had a way of turning you into a paramedic. However, from time to time a surgery is required. Lets just say Mr. J had more than crooked cops and politicians on his payroll.

On the other side of the lab Jason sits on top of the countertop. Harley quickly starts shoving the Joker's shirt off Jason's shoulders. Every tattoo, every scar was her Mistah J. She looks at the wound. "Yer lucky, it went in an out. It looks like it didn't hit nothin. Ya'd know it if it did."

Jason nods and looks over at Frost. Ivy had a bag of blood in her teeth as her shaking bloody hands try to start an IV on Johnny. Jason noted that he was almost as white as he was. He could see Frost struggling to stay awake. Sleepiness was the effect of losing too much blood. Frost's body had taken two bullets that should have been in Jason. That hasn't slipped by Jason, he knows quite well that he got lucky.

Jason hasn't nearly the experience with gunshot wounds that Frost does. Frost has seen every type of gunshot wound there is. He can look at the wound and immediately know what caliper of bullet caused it. He's been on both ends of the gun, the getting shot, and the killing someone. From experience he knows that he's lost too much blood. He's relatively sure that one of the bullets tore open his stomach. Now stomach acid was leaking out into his body cavity. Sepsis would set in very soon. He knows the hole has to be repaired. The only way was surgery.

Harley flushes the wound with saline solution. "So what happen out there tonight?" She asks Jason.

"Well...I guess they call them the fighting Irish for a reason," he begins, "The stupid clowns didn't properly cover our ass. Me and Frost got cornered. The guy just mowed us down," he carelessly shrugged.

"Bullshit," Frost weakly moaned, "He didn't give them the time to cover us. He rushed in prematurely and almost got us killed. He didn't plan things out enough. We shouldn't have even done this job. Words gonna get out about what happened. When it does, he's gonna lose a lot of respect with the criminals of this city."

Jason sneers, "My brother controlled this city with fear."

"They feared him out of respect," Ivy snaps and glares at Jason hatefully, "because they knew that when he planned something that he left no detail unthought of. J didn't have plans that failed. Sometimes he spent months working out details, and he always had contingency plans. He was always prepared for everything that could go wrong."

"Mistah J thought ya were ready, but yer not," Harley says softly as she scrounged for a suture pack.

"J never walked me through his methods of planning. All I know is what I studied from police reports," Jason quickly defends himself.

"You should have gone over your plans with us," Ivy tells him, "Between all of us we could have helped you get it right."

"Oh yeah? How many plans did J ever share with you guys?" Jason rolls his eyes.