Hurt.

Another Casualty fan fiction involving the one and only Greg Fallon. This time poor Greg is a youth mob target after a callout. Before Cyd left, and before they broke up.

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Greg is sat in the back of an ambulance with his chin in his hands. He can't tear his eyes away from the oxygen canister.

He lowered his right hand from his chin and slowly turned it over. The bottom of his palm was grazed. He couldn't comprehend why he had suddenly became their target. All he could recall of the accident was being knocked over by a hooded youth on a bicycle. He stared at his graze for a moment. He had cleaned it. But the flesh under his skin still looked raw.

Greg and Cyd climbed out of the ambulance outside of a posh residence. The privet hedges were neatly trimmed to blocks and the lawn was freshly cut and green. Flowers in borders were beautifully in bloom. Greg got the bag from the back of the ambulance and followed after Cyd who had already passed through the newly painted gate. Greg gave the front door two hard kicks before the door finally crashed open. They ran inside to find an old lady slumped in her armchair. Greg knelt by the arm of the chair and set the bag by his knee.

" Hello? Can you hear me, love?" He got no answer. He pulled on a pair of purple latex gloves and pressed two fingers to the side of her neck. " I'm not getting an output." With Cyd's help, they slid her off the chair and lay her on her back.

Having spent the best part of half an hour trying to revive the old lady, they never had much luck and the police were in there making calls to forensics and etc. Greg pulled the bag back over his shoulder and tugged off his latex gloves. He sighed and turned to look back at the house, at the commotion that continued to go on inside.

" Hey! You!" came a young voice. Greg snapped his head sideways at the group of youths that had gathered.

" S'up?"

" Leave the stupid old bat alone."

" I'm afraid I can't. She's dead now." The youths muttered between themselves. Then without warning, the one on the bicycle with the hood of his blue Nike hoodie pulled up over his hair, zoomed towards him. He didn't have time to register. He found himself being knocked to the ground. There was a burst of laughter and a pair of hands reaching down in front of him. Groaning, he took the hands and helped himself to his feet. When he looked up, he found the delicate hands belonged to Cyd. Her pixie-like features smiled at him.

" You okay?" He nodded. He picked up the bag and climbed into the driver's side of the ambulance, Cyd in the passenger side.

He rubbed his hand and sighed. His hand seemed to ache with the thought of the incident, but the pain then become soothed with the thought of Cyd's touch- the thought of her cleaning it up and easing his anger. He gave a small smile which soon dropped when his radio buzzed.

" This is control to Alpha-Bravo-one. There is a domestic on Queen's Road. The police require urgent back-up."

" All received and mobile." He pushed the radio back into the pouch on his belt and sighed once more. The passenger door swung open, shedding a rectangle of light in. He shielded his eyes as he looked to see Cyd climbing in. She turned to face him.

" You staying there all day, mopy?" He gave her a smile and climbed into the driver's seat.

It was incredibly warm. No need for their coats. The sun poured down. The ambulance stopped and Greg jumped out of the driver's side. He opened up the back and took out the bag. He hitched it over his shoulder, then skimmed his eyes over the scene. A group of youths were throwing large lumps of brick at a bungalow window. From inside came the small screams of an elderly lady. He ran towards the house and automatically recognised one of the youths who was clutching a piece of brick. The youth turned to look at him.

" Hey! Aussie idiot! I thought I told you to leave the old biddies alone!"

" I've already told you, I can't."

" Yes you can! Mind your own business."

" This is my business." The youth glared at him. He realised then that this street was the same street he had visited earlier. He sighed and entered the house.

He knelt by the old lady and wrapped and arm around her.

" Are you okay, my darling?" She nodded, but still seemed to tremble underneath his arms. He pulled her in close and helped her to her feet. She went with him, and he led her back out of the house. Yet as he reached the garden gate, something hard collided with the back of his head. He groaned in pain and pressed one hand to his head. Blood trickled between his fingers. He turned to look at the youths who had ran off laughing. He walked her to the ambulance and helped her inside, then turned to Cyd who was watching him with an expression of concern on her face.

" Greg? Are you okay?" He nodded, the pulled away his hand.

They sat in the back of the ambulance. Greg had a gauze pressed to the back of his head. His eyes remained fixed to the same spot on the floor just beneath the trolley. He couldn't tear them away. The pain in his head had begun to subside. However cramp had begun in his wrist that held the gauze in place. He swapped hands and shook out his wrist and hand. But even from the comfort of having the one he loved in the ambulance with him, he still couldn't comprehend why they were so fascinated in attacking elderly residents, and why they didn't want him there.

It was sometime in the afternoon that confused him most. The afternoon wasn't much different to what it had been when he last visited that street. The sun was brighter and hotter than it had been all day. His head pain had finally calmed to a dull headache. Anything a couple of painkillers could handle. But the surprise he was to get that afternoon would take a lot more than two paracetamol to ease. The ambulance was just parked outside of the A&E doors which made their jobs a lot easier in taking patients inside. He pushed open the doors to the back of the ambulance, letting in a great deal of bright light. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the light. He jumped out and looked around. The ambulance bay was fairly quiet. He stepped out to the side to close the door when there came the sound of a car engine, followed by a screeching that seemed quite distant. Greg looked around, not thinking much of it. But then it grew closer.

They say its not the impact of the hit that hurts- it's the registration. And that was true with Greg. He had not quite registered the fact that the car collided with his spine and legs, sending him crashing onto the bonnet of the car and hurtling into the centre of the road. He had still hadn't registered the fact that he was lying in the road, unable to move, yet able to speak and hear. Blood ran in a thin line from his left ear. A wide gash had appeared across his right cheek. The entire left side of his face was grazed. His right leg lay in an unusual position. He flat in his stomach, the left side of his face pressed to the road. Screams. Cyd's delicate hands. Maggie's voice. Guppy's voice. Kelsey's voice.

" Greg? Greg! Get him on a trolley now!" Cyd crouched down beside him and took one of his hands into hers.

" Greg? Squeeze my hand once if you can feel your legs, and twice if you can't." He squeezed her hand twice. She gave a solemn sigh then vanished into the back of the ambulance for the spinal board. With some help of the doctors, she lifted him onto it and strapped him in place. Without hesitation, they put him on a trolley and wheeled him into the hospital. The whole time, he was torn between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Thump… Thump… Thump…