Jim Gordon was speeding down the streets of downtown Gotham, radio turned up so the strains of Springsteen's guitar could reach the highest windows of the old, sagging buildings that lined the sidewalks, he waved off the old man shaking his fist from the curb muttering something about this generation's lack of respect or some such nonsense. At the next red light he took the moment to look at himself in the rearview mirror as he smoothed his hair back and smiled at his reflection. Today was a good day, he had just been accepted into the Gotham City Police Department, finally after years of hard work and training at the academy the Commissioner handed him his very own badge and gun. He was introduced to his new partner, one Harvey Bullock, now that man was rough around the edges but maybe he could grow on him in the coming weeks. Or months. The light finally turned Green, Jim looked over at the old Buick on his left and revved the engine of his Impala in challenge to the driver, why not? He's feeling confident enough that he could practically take on the whole world at this point, He grinned at the middle-aged guy, who was apparently feeling a bit confident himself despite the rattle that came from his rusted vehicle, and then they both took off in a cloud of dust.
The buildings were flying past in a blur of dark crimsons and grays and he was just laughing like he hadn't a care in the world, Buick guy had given up a block ago but the adrenaline was still rushing its way through his veins like a fire had bit lit underneath him. He kept his car at just about top speed and rolled a stop sign knowing there wasn't a cop around this side of town until later that night, well a different cop anyways he thought to himself with another chuckle.
Just another block and I'll be home, might as well keep gunning it. He reached over to change the channel on the radio, maybe they were playing more Springsteen somewhere. He glanced down for only a moment, but a moment was all it took to miss another stop light and the shiny, black Oldsmobile that was already making its way across. He looked up in time to see that he wasn't going to be able to stop in time but that didn't deter him from stomping on his breaks in hopes of avoiding the collision. Next thing he knew there was a loud crunch of metal on metal assaulting his ears and then everything went white..
========/==
Today was the shittiest of shitty days for Oswald Cobblepot. First thing in the morning he woke up to his mother questioning him about his lack of presence at home, he tried to reassure her that he truly was working late hours at the diner and studying for tests to try and get accepted into Gotham University's Business and Entrepreneurship program. She just was not having it, accusing him of hanging out with bad influences and committing nefarious deeds, they had an all out screaming match that ended with telling him to pack his belongings and be out by the end of the day and him storming out, slamming the apartment door behind him hard enough to disturb the knick-knacks that his mother had so carefully arranged. Her prized antique porcelain dove crashed to pieces on the water stained tile, angering her to no end.
He had flown down the flight of stairs leading to the exit and stopped at the bottom to catch his breath and wipe his face of the tears that had spilt on his way down. He held onto the wrought iron rails and took a deep breath to steel himself before continuing on, picking up the bag he had haphazardly stuffed with a few outfits and slinging it across his back before crossing the desolate lobby and shoving the door open. His car was parked just outside the aged building, between some drug dealer's BMW and 's Camry. He took out his keys and sorted out the correct one before shoving it roughly into the slot on the door and wrenching it open when he heard the telltale click it made when the lock came undone. He threw his bag into the back seat and sat in the driver's seat for a moment to listen to the sounds of the bustling city he called home, a siren sounding somewhere off in the distance, a smoke alarm in a nearby apartment and a house wife yelling at her husband to make it stop. Maybe he could look for a better place in the papers later after work. He sighed and put the key in the ignition to turn the engine over, and as soon as the car roared to life the dash lit up like a Christmas tree, the Check Engine, Oil and brake icons were all flashing at him in an angry warning. "Ugh, just my luck!" He slammed his palms on the steering wheel in frustration at the same time that a mother passed by with her two small daughters, she pulled a face and tugged them closer as she hurried onwards. He smiled apologetically as they passed but as soon as they were gone he huffed and combed his hair back into place with a scowl.
He backed out the best he could, it was sort of a tight squeeze between his neighbor's vehicles but with a little shimmying he made it out successfully and turned onto the street to head to Carlo's diner for his noon shift. He decided to drive a bit more slowly since he still had plenty of time before work started for him, besides he had a record of perfect attendance and was always punctual, something he was quite proud of, and he could stand to be a bit late if he wanted to. The car also seemed a bit touchy today, it's a sturdy car that's stood the test of time and weather over the years but he guessed it was just about that time. Sitting at a stoplight he took the moment to sweep his hand over the dashboard in a loving manner, smiling at the memories that were induced every time he drove this old beauty. Things like eating ice cream his mother bought for him in the backseat, a rare treat, even rarer after he dropped one of the scoops on the seat beside him. Or when his mom handed him the keys on his first day as a senior in high school, he had felt so happy that day, like he was finally starting to grow up. Well, nothing makes you feel like you're growing up more than moving out of the nest and being thrust out into the world completely on your own. An incessant beeping cut through his thoughts and he shook them off to look for the source of the sound. It was his cellphone, when he looked at the caller ID it announced that Tony, one of the chefs at Carlo's, was ringing him. He flipped open the cell and put it to his ear, "What is it Tony, I'm on my way to the diner now, don't tell me you forgot your key again" he said without a break, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, this light was certainly taking its time changing.
Tony's gruff voice responded with, "You're not gonna believe this Os, Carlo went on some tangent about somebody taking money from the register. Said he doesn't care who did it, just gonna start getting rid of people he thinks are suspicious." "You're kidding?!" Oswald shouted into the speaker over the sound of someone's horn. "'Naw man, Serious as a stroke, he's got a list too," he replied, his next words were blocked out by the horn again and he was starting to get annoyed so he turned his head to look out of his back window to find that it was coming from the driver directly behind him. "Hold on Tony, I can't hear you, just give me a sec" he was thinking about sending a rude gesture through his open window but when he turned back around he saw that the light had finally changed and the horn was indeed justified. Just as Tony repeated "Your name was at the top" he had stomped on the gas to get his car moving, right as he reached the middle of the intersection there were headlights blinding him from the left side and when he turned his head he dropped the phone and tried his best to press down on the brake pedal, but to no avail. He felt the blow jerk him to the right before his whole world went dark.
=======/===
The smell of smoke and burned rubber wafted into his nostrils when his eyes fluttered open, he immediately squeezed them closed again when a painful throbbing in his head greeted him with a vengeance. He brought a hand to his forehead and tried opening his eyes again, the hood of his car was bent skywards with smoke spilling out of the sides and his windshield had cracks radiating from the bottom like thin branches of a tree reaching out for him. He tried focusing his eyes the best that he could to see beyond his window, a bit blurry at first so he tried blinking them a couple times and finally his world became clear and that's when he saw the mangled mess of black metal and chrome that was left of the side of the other driver's vehicle that was closest to him. He could just barely see into the driver side window, there was a figure slumped over in its seat, one arm hanging out limply against the frame. The skin on that arm was so damn pale, Jesus please don'tbedeaddon'tbedeaddon'tbedead, repeated in his mind over and over as he scrambled to unbuckle his seatbelt and try his door handle. There was some difficulty opening it because the frame was crumpled a bit near the hinges, but with a bit of strong arming he got it open and made his way over to the other vehicle with one hand holding on to his own for leverage. He noticed among the smells of wreckage the scent of rain coming and his suspicions were confirmed when he looked up to see a dark cloud descending upon the area, small crystalline droplets dotting his eyelashes as a precursor of what was yet to come. He hurried to the other driver's door and stuck his head inside a bit, as much as he could, which for some reason he still felt uncomfortable with, it was a stranger's car after all. Despite the darkness that was being cast from above he was still able to see the deathly pallor of the stranger's face, it would look serene in any other situation if it wasn't for the small trickle of crimson trailing its way from dark, ruffled hair in contrast to his stark white temple.
Fuck.
He should call for help but he left his damned cell phone in the car, should've kept in his pocket, wait. My pocket. He patted his the jeans and found that he still had his badge, no way was he going to let that thing go. An idea had struck him, he looked over to the crowd developing on the curb nearby and saw a few nosy teenagers holding up their phones to take pictures, hoping to impress their friends on social media. He whispered,"I'll be right back, I promise", not knowing whether the man had heard him or not but nevertheless he did it anyways. He strode over and flashed his badge to one scraggly teenage boy with a beanie and a diamond stud in his ear, "GCPD, I need to commandeer your mobile phone" he held out his hand to the boy and tapped his toe impatiently. "Whoa dude whatever, here, just make sure to give it back when you're done. I just got that phone you know?"
He handed Jim the phone and backed up with his hands up, palms facing him in a show of capitulation. Jim pressed "emergency call" in the lower center of the screen and put the phone to his ear as he sprinted back to the younger man, "Nine-One-One, what's your emergency?" the operator drawled on the other end. "This is Officer Gordon of the GCPD, there's been an accident in downtown on the corner of Cedar and Marietta", he rambled back at the operator who then asked, "how many victims are present?"
"Ah just one, the other driver," he replied.
"Other driver? Who else was driving sir?"
"Uh me, I was the one who ran into him" he answered nervously as he reached a hand in to check the stranger's pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt a heartbeat there, albeit a bit slower than it should be. He tilted the head a bit to see if there was any damage to the other side, but there was none that was visible to his eye.
"Sir, is the victim responsive?" she asked in a tone that probably meant she had asked more than once, he was so frazzled he had a hard time concentrating, Get it together Gordon, you've been training for this, you got this.
He stuttered anyway, "Uh y-well he has a heartbeat but he seems to be unconscio-wait wait I think he's waking up," the younger man's eyes started to flutter as he groaned loudly, a hand reaching immediately for his right leg, Jim's eyes following its path.
Jim lowered the phone so he could speak him, "Sir you've just been in an accident, I need you to tell me where it hurts", the brunette groaned again and opened one cerulean eye to look about before squeezing it shut once more. Jim couldn't keep leaning in, the door was digging into his mid-section so he slowly opened the door with effort, ignoring the metal creaking in protest. This way he had more access, he put a hand to the uninjured side of the stranger's face and pointed it towards his own and he calmly asked him for his name, "O-Oswald," he rasped, licking his lips to add "Cobblepot."
Jim nodded slowly, "Okay , I need you to look at me, can you do that for me? Yeah there we go, good good" he coaxed the man, both eyes staring back at him this time, "Now, can you tell me where it hurts?"
Oswald cleared his throat and replied, "M-my leg, I think it's stuck" he tried to keep the sob out at the end of his sentence but failed. "Hey you'll be ok, I got ya" Jim tried reassuring him despite the fear that spiked in his own stomach.
A loud voice was coming from the phone where it dangled in his hand momentarily forgotten, "Sir, are you there?!" He brought it back to his ear quickly, "Sorry, yeah the victim is responding to me now," he answered the operator's question from earlier, "I think we're gonna need medical transportation here." Oswald clutched his arm, forcing his attention back on him, he looked scared out of his mind if the look in his bright blue eyes was anything to go by. "I can't go the hospital, please don't-I'm fine, see?" the younger man tried to sit up straight to demonstrate this, but as soon as he jostled his leg he was crying out in agony again, holding Jim's forearm to him in a vice grip, his eyes widening further than they should be able to. He tilted his head back against the headrest and tried to get his breath back, breathing so quickly he was almost hyperventilating. Jim looked at him with a pained expression of his own even though he was trying to convey compassion, "Yeah I think that's an affirmative on medical" he relayed to the woman on the phone.
" ," Jim tried for his attention, knowing he had it when those eyes stared into him, they seemed to go straight to his core. He cleared his own throat and asked in a lowered voice, "Oswald, I'm gonna have to take a look at that leg, okay?" The brunette shook his head as much as he could in protest, " please, I need to", he took the hand still clutching his forearm and held it in his own, insisting, "Please."
Oswald looked at him for a minute, biting his lip in short contemplation before reluctantly nodding his ascent. Jim gave his hand one last squeeze and thanked him before kneeling and crawling in halfway under the steering wheel to find that Oswald's left leg was okay, pulled closer to his body, but his right leg was definitely in a bad way. The foot was twisted too far to the right to look normal and it was the lodged between the center console and one of the pedals that had been shoved over on impact. His stomach turned at the sight and he had to crawl out of the cramped space for fresh air, where the hell is that ambulance? Do I wait for the EMTs or do I do something about it now?
Before he could answer his own question he heard the familiar sound of a siren wailing not too far off in the distance. He stood from the place where he had knelt beside the man whose life he had potentially ruined and shielded his eyes from the sprinkling that had started to come down a bit harder while he was busy concentrating on his assessment of 's state. He saw the red and white lights flashing just half a block down, they'd be here in a matter of moments. He jogged back to the curb, let the operator know the emergency officials had arrived, hung up and hastily tossed the phone back to the owner, who was caught off guard and almost dropped it. When he got back to his and Cobblepot's cars an official had already run up to the man with his kit slung over his shoulder and questions loaded and ready to shoot. He decided to leave it up to the professionals for the moment and he sat on the wrecked front bumper of his own vehicle, surprisingly it had held up pretty well despite the beating it took. He raked a hand through his messy hair and breathed deeper than he had in the past couple of minutes, his adrenaline finally starting to wane, he could feel himself crashing. He finally looked down at himself, his clothes were rumpled with a few specks of blood on his cuffs. On closer inspection he found small cuts on his knuckles from where they had come in contact with the car one way or another. He glanced back to see that the airbag was hanging from the center of the steering wheel deflated, if it weren't for that his face would probably be caved in right about now. Another deep breath at that thought, how close had he come to death?
A shout brought him back to the present, coming from the younger man in the black car, it looks like two EMTs were trying to lift him from the car. Crap, how did I forget to tell them! He jumped up and shouted at them to stop, "His leg is stuck! You're gonna need something to wedge apart the center console and the pedal!"
They looked at him in surprise, where this guy came from they had no idea, but one of them looked Jim up and down and realized that he must've been the other driver and tried to get him to take a seat, "Sir let us treat you, settle down, you'll be just fine."
"No you don't understand, I'm fine, you need to stop moving him!"
"He's right Frank," the other one shouted from behind him, "this leg isn't going anywhere unless we get something powered by a motor ovah here."
"We're gonna need to call that in Glenn, you know we don't have something like that in our inventory", Frank called over his shoulder to his partner. Jim rolled his eyes, "Well at least treat him for whatever else while he's stuck and waiting for someone to bring the right equipment" he suggested. The official nodded and told Glenn to go back to the truck and call for an ETA on the fire engine and tow truck while he knelt back down beside Oswald and zipped open his kit to take out an alcohol wipe to clean up the blood on the side of his face and place a butterfly bandage on the small laceration above his temple for good measure. He slipped his stethoscope from around his neck and put the earpieces in place, touching the silver disc to the man's chest and ignored his squirming, "His heartrate is elevated some, but that may be due to the pain from his leg. In the meantime I won't move him but as soon as we get that leg out he's gotta be on a stretcher pronto." He rattled on to Jim who was hovering behind him like a worried mother, "I hear you're a cop, think you'll be able to give us a hand if we need it?" He asked him pointedly.
"Huh," he barely caught anything he was being told, keeping his eyes on the younger man who stared back at him with tired eyes and a heaving chest, "Yeah, yeah definitely" he absently replied. How did this happen? How could I be so stupid? I nearly killed a man! He couldn't help but berate himself internally
Oswald was in incredible pain, the throb in his head had dulled some but the pain in his leg was immeasurable. On reflex he kept wanting to pull it back towards him, but every time he flexed his toes even a little the back of his thigh and calf would catch on fire, making him cry out with every twist. If he could stay still for the rest of his life that would be awesome. He looked up at the stranger whose been standing beside him since he woke up, from what he gathered when he overheard him talking on the phone this guy was an officer and the one who plowed into him. He should be angry, but he couldn't find it in him to be as much at the moment, what with the shock and all. He did look remorseful however, looks just as worried as his mother did when he fell of his skateboard and sprained his arm when he was ten. He smiled at the memory of her fussing over him, then the morning came rushing back to him and the prickly feeling of guilt settled into the pit of his stomach along with the ever present fear that he might lose his leg, even though he knew it wasn't quite that bad he couldn't manage to sweep it away.
That Glenn guy finally came back from the idling ambulance and announced that the fire engine should be there in two more minutes, they had been stuck in traffic for the past couple of minutes, but it shouldn't take them much longer now. The rain was coming down harder, when did it start to rain? The brunette wondered to himself as he reached his hand out to allow the water to slip through his fingers and rest in his palm, the clear liquid almost reflecting the officer's concerned eyes. Huh I never got his name he thought as he heard the loud blaring horn of the fire department coming closer by the second.
The crowds had grown larger, Jim couldn't decide whether they were really concerned citizens or just nosy neighbors, probably a mixture of both. He looked down at the young man, still pale as can be, he was starting to think that maybe he was always this way. He seemed to smile absently at him, but just as quickly as it had appeared on his face it dropped away into a grimace, he felt his own face fall with it. Was it because of the pain, the situation he was in?
Oswald's hand reached towards him it seemed, he watched it for a moment as it collected rainwater before grasping it in his own, watching the touch register in those cerulean blues. It was cold as ice, so he wrapped both of his hands around it in hopes of giving him some semblance of warmth and then he thought about getting his coat out of the backseat of his car to cover his shivering frame with, his hand couldn't be the only thing that was freezing. He slipped his hands away, letting Oswald's rest back against his stomach only for it to go right back to his leg. He grimaced wondering when the fire department would get here and then he turned to jog back to his crapped out car and dug through the mess he had back there, when he finally came up with his old leather jacket he heard the fire engine come barreling through, screeching to a halt with a loud exhale from the brakes. By the time he reached Cobblepot the officials were there assessing the damage, Oswald looked like he was starting to panic from what Jim could barely see over the group forming beside him.
The two EMTs left to get a stretcher from their ambulance to be ready as soon as the younger man's leg was free, there were two firefighters to handle the motor-powered machine that was to pry apart the metal and another one on the passenger side to shine a light and keep an eye out just in case things go wrong. Jim couldn't take the look of fear on Oswald's face any longer so he strode over and jumped into the back seat, much to the chagrin of the officials, and leaned forward to speak into his ear to try and keep him calm through the ordeal.
"You don't have to look if you don't want" he murmured in his ear, "are you cold?" The pale brunette nodded slightly in response so Jim draped his coat over the top half of his body, tucking it in at the sides a bit so it wouldn't slip down. He let his hand rest on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. Oswald looked up and gave him a grateful, tight-lipped smile and brought a hand up to cover the officer's.
"Thank you so much, uh Mister?" Oswald let his question trail off, the other man stumbled over his words and tried to speak over the loud noise of the emergency officials talking over one another to guide the machine, "Oh um my name, Jim Gordon! Officer Gordon, just started today, see?" He pulled his badge back out of his pocket with his free hand and displayed it, feeling a bit of pride rise in his chest before he tamped it down, not exactly the appropriate moment he reminded himself, but then again anything to distract him right?
Oswald didn't mind at all, grinning a bit wider at the ma- Jim, at Jim. "Congratulations Officer Gordon, it's very nice to meet you, although I wish the circumstances under which we have met were a little different", he chuckled. He gripped Jim's hand a bit tighter when there was a particularly loud groan from the metal as it started to part ways with each other, some of the pressure on his leg was starting to lift, but as it did the blood started to flood into compressed veins that it had not circulated to for some time. Oswald grit his teeth as the pinpricks started to tingle in his toes, the fire fighters were moving slowly but steadily to get this done, the EMTs were on standby with their stretcher beside the vehicle, rocking back and forth impatiently on their heels.
Oswald was starting to hyperventilate again as the pain grew, Jim was afraid that his poor hand would turn purple from the way he was squeezing it, so in a way to abate his fear and the strength of his grip he tried to get his attention to fixate on him instead of this whole terrible ordeal. He started to hum the opening lines of Hungry Heart, bobbing his head a little and not caring enough to be totally self-conscious, Oswald looked up at him with a befuddled expression. "W-what are you doing" he questioned warily, watching the older man stutter and bite his lip before responding, "I'm just humming", "N- I know that, but, why?"
"Why not?" he smiled, "C'mon, do it with me"
Oswald raised an eyebrow before shutting his eyes as a fresh wave of pain traveled up his calf, face twisting in agony. Jim immediately cradled his head, moving further in between the front seats so he could press Oswald against his chest awkwardly, being mindful of his cut and resting his chin on top of his head as he whimpered into his shirt. He started to hum again as he felt one of the smaller man's arms wrap around him and squeeze while a tremor ran right through his thin frame. Without a thought, Jim brought a hand up to stroke his hair and he shushed him. There was a mechanical whir and another metallic groan that rang throughout the vehicle as the firefighters finally pulled the mangled parts away from Oswald's leg. The younger man gasped loudly in Jim's hold as the pressure was released on his poor leg, "Jesus christ", he breathed and when he tried to move it he cried out once more, "Don't move it, don't move!" the officer exclaimed, pressing Oswald's head closer to him with the hand that was resting against his scalp. The firefighters in the front compartment of the car pulled the machine out and made way for the emergency officials to get back to work.
Glenn went around to poke his head in on the passenger side, he looked hesitant to break the two apart but Jim knew that he had to do his job so he whispered in Oswald's ear, smoothing his hair down once more as he nodded before finally, slowly letting him go. Frank appeared at the driver side, "Ok kids, this is how it's gonna go down; I'm gonna need to put a splint on that leg, it ain't gonna feel pleasant, but I need to keep it from floppin' around when we put you on the stretcher," he demonstrated with his hand as he spoke, making Oswald more than uneasy at the thought of moving even an inch. Frank backed out and reached for his equipment and placed his kit on top of the roof, sliding it partway so that Glenn could have access as well if needed. Glenn touched a hand to Jim's shoulder to get his attention, " Could you go and use the lever on the side of his chair to lower him back some, we need some space to work." Jim nodded and squeezed Oswald's shoulder in turn before jumping out of the car and doing as he was told, slowly lowering the young man as much as his injury would allow and the EMTs got to work.
Oswald gripped Jim's forearm, rooting him to the spot throughout the whole ordeal. The officials tried their best to move as quickly as they could without causing more damage, though that didn't stop him from yelling out through his pain. Jim could hardly stand watching, he just wanted to make this whole day go away. He sighed when Oswald finally loosened his grip some, Frank and Glenn finished up, the former slinging his kit on his shoulder before turning to face the officer, "We're about to put him on the stretcher, will you be riding in the back to the hospital?" "Uh oh, y- wait what about my car?" Frank pointed behind Jim, directing him to the tow truck and the attendant already prepping his impala to be pulled away from the scene. People had already left, there was only one or two stragglers who stayed behind, including the homeless guy who always stood by the same streetlamp everyday with his ratty old cardboard sign. The driver of the truck with brightly painted doors proclaiming "Bobby's Salvage Yard" made his way over to them, "I'm assuming you're the owner of that banged up beauty back there" he gestured back with his thumb, "Doesn't look completely totaled, I can take it back to my shop and have it fixed up in about a month, maybe a month and a half." Jim's eyes just about bugged out of his head at that, "a month?!"
"Maybe a little less than that with the help of my boys, but not by much" the man shrugged his broad shoulders sympathetically. "Th-that's a lot of money," he said to himself, a chorus of groans brought his attention back to Oswald who was being lifted onto the stretcher, "Fine, just send the bill and paper work to the GCPD, ask for Gordon" he rattled off before twisting around and following the convoy to the ambulance, leaving the old man scratching his head as he watched them rush off.
Oswald was biting his lip to keep from crying out, keeping his eyes trained on the man sprinting after him as he was being carted off. The officer tried his best to keep a brave face on but the look of uncertainty in his eyes betrayed him. Frank and Glenn hoisted the stretcher into the cabin, Glenn stayed behind and lent a hand to Jim to pull him inside while Frank jumped out and went around to climb into the driver's seat. The large vehicle was so cold, most likely to keep whatever meds they had onboard at their preferred temperature. Jim noticed that there was a variety of equipment all stowed away in multiple compartments, "You mean to tell me you didn't have the right tool with all this in here" he joked nervously as he sidled over to Oswald's other side to face opposite of Glenn. Glenn wasn't paying any attention to him as he opened two of these compartments to pull out something in a sterile package and a vial of a clear liquid, "I'm gonna give you something for the pain 'k?" he indicated to Oswald, who looked away when a needle was pulled out of it's packaging, "Just get it overwith", he breathed. Jim eyebrows were downturned in sympathy for the injured man, whoever liked needles anyhow? Certainly nobody he knew, so he covered Cobblepot's hand with his own, whether he was doing it to comfort the other man or himself he didn't know. There was a quiet whimper and Oswald's hand turned over in Jim's grasp to squeeze it, Jim returned it with a squeeze of his own and he brushed some of the hair out of the man's eyes, "Just hang in there, we're gonna get you to the hospital and they'll know what to do, okay?"
Oswald nodded, It wasn't much in the way of comfort, but it was all the older man had, he knew the officer was trying his best so he accepted it. What else could he do, besides mangle the poor man's hand? He gave Jim a strangled smile and then let the chemicals take over as some of the pain was lifted incrementally. He shut his eyes and, for the time being, let the noise of the world fall away.
-Author notes(sorta); The title was inspired by a song Matt Ryan sang in a phone commercial, YouTube is your friend :) Also yes, Bobby Singer did make a cameo, when I thought of tow truck driver, my mind immediately went to Singer Salvage... The characters from either shows absolutely do not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended. Hope you like it, I do not guarantee a continuation simply because writing is hard for me and I'm also a procrastinator(I wrote this MONTHS ago, see?). Sorry bout that..