Pushed

A missing scene from the episode "When Push Comes to Shove" featuring Cameron Hicks. Because during the episode I found myself thinking...ye gods, he just caught her full weight with one arm! And I wanted to spend a little more time with the character after it was all over. (Note that I do not own Alphas in any way. Just writing this for self amusement.)

The rooftop was swarming with activity. The tactical team had arrived, and Nina was now in the midst of them. Not fighting while they handcuffed and blindfolded her. Not seeming to hear as Dr. Rosen spoke to her.

Cameron Hicks leaned wearily against an AC unit, watching her until she was gone, escorted into the stairwell by Rosen and the TAC team. Then he closed his eyes. He'd been pushed by Nina too many times to count now, and every time when he came out of it there was the feeling of waking too quickly in the middle of a dream, of slamming into full consciousness before his mind was ready for it. This time he wanted to just sit for a while. Let his brain sort through things.

"Hey, you all right man?" It was Bill Harkin's voice that intruded into the all-too-brief silence.

Hicks shook his head. "Yeah, I'm good. Not the first time she's done it to me."

"Not that." Harkin's voice was closer now. "I'm talking about your arm."

Hicks opened his eyes and looked down. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his arm in, close to his body.

"You caught her full weight, Hicks. While she was in falling. Adrenaline's probably kept you from feeling it."

"I guess." Hicks tried to move the arm and was rewarded by a painful muscle spasm, combined with a feeling of wrongness that made his head swim. "Not anymore," he whispered tightly. "Damnit."

"Yeah, I thought so." Harkin held out his hand. "C'mon, we'll grab one of the medics, have them take a look."

"No." The word came out more emphatically than Hicks intended. He shook his head, backing off a bit. "They're taking care of Nina. I don't want…I mean…can you just…"

Harkin looked at him for a long moment. Then let out a breath and nodded. "Let's get your jacket off."

It took a while, but between them they succeeded without making things much worse. "I've messed it up before," Hicks muttered. "Pitching. Probably tore something."

"Yeah, be quiet a minute." Harkin ran his hands over Hicks' shoulder, his gaze unfocused as he concentrated. Then slowly he began to shake his head. "Heh. You did more than tear it, buddy. It's out."

"Out?" Hicks swore. "Are you serious?"

"'Fraid so." Harkin met Hicks' gaze steadily. Waiting.

Hicks closed his eyes and pictured being in the ER. The noise, the tests, an x-ray possibly, and then the offer of painkillers. Having to say no, though part of him would want desperately to say yes. With Bill Harkin, there'd be none of that. Harkin understood.

"I trust you," Hicks said.

Bill Harkin nodded and stood up to his full height. A rapid pulse began to thrum visibly in his neck, and then at his temple. Sweat broke out across his face.

"Just don't rip it off, okay?" Hicks tried to joke. He was starting to feel sick.

"Yep."

And then Harkin's hands were on him, one at the shoulder, one manipulating his arm, and Hicks closed his eyes against the pain. There was the horrible, grating feeling of bone and socket moving against each other in a way they should not, and of muscles spasming and fighting. Hicks heard himself cry out, knew he was yelling at Harkin let go let go and couldn't stop himself. Then suddenly all of it was done. The world spun, and Hicks felt his body sag. Felt Harkin easing him down until he was sitting on the roof's surface, his back resting against the AC, and then gently resting his arm across his chest.

"Don't move," Harkin said.

"No problem," Hicks groaned.

He heard Harkin walking away, and heard the sound of something fabric being torn. Hicks focused on just breathing for a time. The pain was still there, though not as bad, when everything stopped spinning he opened his eyes. He glanced down at his arm and then up at Harkin. The man had found a heavy tarp and was ripping it into a rough triangle, with the ease that a normal person might tear a single sheet of paper.

"You aren't going to throw up, are you?" Harkin asked. "You're looking a little gray."

Hicks started to shake his head, and thought better of it. "I don't think so."

"Well if you do, aim away from me, you got it? Otherwise you and me are going to have some strong words." He returned and knelt down. Carefully, he eased Hicks' arm into the makeshift sling and tied it behind Hicks' neck so the arm would not move. "All right?" he asked.

"Thanks Bill," Hicks said quietly.

"You got it. Now can you get up? Because I don't think either one of us wants me to have to carry you down the stairs."

"I can get up." Hicks managed a smirk. "Just give me a hand."

oooooooooo

On the return trip to headquarters, Hicks closed his eyes but the ache in his shoulder never let him get as far as sleep. Instead, his mind played back over the day, trying to fill in the gaps from when Nina had pushed him. He was aware, then, of Harkin talking briefly to Rosen on the cell phone. And he could tell when they pulled into the parking garage.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," Harkin said. "Rosen wants to see you."

"I'm up."

Lee Rosen was waiting for him in the infirmary. But everything about the doctor's manner spoke of a man whose mind was far away, focused on something…or someone…else. His brow was furrowed and his words clipped as he checked the pulse in Hicks' wrist, and asked that he flex his hand. Seemingly satisfied with his findings of his cursory examination, he replaced the makeshift sling with a proper one. Then he handed Hicks a pill.

"Ibuprophen 800. Very effective for pain and swelling. Nothing mind-altering, no addictive qualities, as you know. It may take an hour to kick in, however, will you be all right until then?"

"I have a choice?"

At those words, Rosen seemed to return to the here and now. He blinked and looked intently at Hicks. Then he gave a small smile and clasped Hicks' good shoulder. "I am sorry for the pain you are in. Put an ice pack on it, that will help somewhat. Oh, and Cameron? Thank you for what you did today. I am deeply grateful."

ooooooooooooo

They'd put Nina in an observation room. It was bright with natural light and warm-looking, and the bedclothes were something out of a catalog instead of the usual institutional stuff. Someone had even dressed her in a nightgown. Everything looked normal, and comfortable. Except for the gauze covering Nina's eyes. Except for the padded restraints securing her wrists and ankles.

Cameron Hicks gazed in through the window at her for a while. He could not tell if she was awake or asleep. Her breathing was slow and steady. The best thing to do, he decided, would be to just have a seat in the small waiting room adjacent. And then he walked into her room anyway.

"Nina?" he said softly.

She did not answer. But there was no mistaking the slight turn of her head in his direction. She was awake. Listening.

If only he knew what to say. He hadn't stopped to work that part out.

"I'm here," he said. "Right outside if you…" If you need anything. He closed his eyes, breathing back an unexpected flare of anger. He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, not after she'd pushed him too many times to get exactly what she thought she needed.

She was very still, waiting.

"I'm here," he whispered finally, and walked out.