Once Hercules had found out where Jack was hiding out, there’d been no outrunning the ranger. Mostly because Jack’s not in any position to be running anywhere, anymore, but…yeah. That’s essentially the only reason.
When the coughing attacks start getting worse, and Jack’s breath becomes a painful rattling sound with every careful heave of air—that’s when he just can’t take it anymore.
So, as discussed, Jack takes the pills that only just barely allow him to sleep through the night.
Once he’s sure that Jack will not be waking anytime soon, that the drugs are in full effect, the ranger takes one of the pillows with shaky hands.
When he presses down on Jack’s deceitfully peaceful face, he has to close his eyes to keep from looking. The knot in his throat is too tight for him to breathe properly, but he’s been holding his breath ever since he grabbed the damn throw pillow.
Jack doesn’t wake up through the process.
When he pulls away, he throws the pillow aside and hovers his hand over Jack’s parted, bluish lips. Presses his palm to a still chest—and waits.
Jack doesn’t wake up again.