Title: Thanks (1/1)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters mentioned herein. No infringement intended.
Content: Friendship, mentions of violence and medical stuff.
Characters: Mickey, Jack, Smithy, Roger, Stone.
Summary: A beating. A friendship. A simple scenario.
The pain from the knee to his face and the crowbar across his back didn't register as his mind processed the shooting spasms of agony that the first punch to his stomach had caused. He fell to the floor as the blows continued to rain down on him, battling to stay conscious. As faint voices shouted his name, his breathless replies were drowned out by his attackers' hasty decision to get away. Once the familiar and sturdy thud of police issue boots came closer, Mickey fell unconscious.
Back at Sun Hill, Jack's attention had been drawn to radio messages regarding an incident where there was a man being beaten by a mob that had been chased across the Jasmine Allen estate. Smithy called up the CCTV and focussed in on the beating, trying to catch as many faces and images as possible. The mob soon dispersed as a large uniform presence made itself known and a solitary officer stayed behind with the victim as the others followed the mob.
"Ambulance message, ambulance urgently needed on Cargill Road, outside the newsagents, we have an officer down." Callum's voice echoed through the control room and all present fell silent.
Smithy nodded to an officer to put the ambulance message through, and got back on the radio, "who is the officer down Sergeant Stone?"
There was a short silence, "it's Mickey sir."
Smithy looked over at Jack, knowing already what his reaction would be. "What's his condition Sergeant?"
"Not looking good Smithy, he's unconscious. Where's that ambulance?"
"It's on its way. Stay with him and keep us updated."
Smithy cleared his throat and walked over to where Jack had focused the screen on the two officers stood over Mickey's unconscious body.
"Sir?"
"Get those images we've got from CCTV through facial recognition as soon as possible. Get CCTV from the surrounding areas. I want a timeline of what happened." Smithy noticed how white Jack's knuckles were as his hands tightened around the back of the chair that he was leaning on.
The radio crackled again, "ambulance is here, Roger's going to St Hughes with Mickey, I'm gonna follow up where Ben, Millie and Leon are up to on the estate."
"Thank you Sergeant."
Jack was still staring at the CCTV screen. Smithy cleared his throat again, "you should go to the hospital."
"Who's going to lead the investigation?"
"I'll brief Manson." He could see that Jack wanted to go, "someone will have to take Mickey's statement when he wakes up."
"Keep me updated," Jack grabbed his coat, "any news, I want to know immediately."
"Sir."
Roger was stood uncomfortably in the waiting room when Jack arrived. He nodded a greeting, "sir."
"Any news?"
"He's in surgery sir. Ruptured spleen. He was unconscious in the ambulance and they took him straight down to surgery." Roger's face belied his concern about his colleague.
"Do we know what happened yet?"
"No sir, we were chasing a gang that had been reported wrecking cars on the estate, got down there and one mob ran off and the others we saw giving someone a beating. When they saw us they ran off."
"What the hell was Mickey doing down there?" Jack didn't expect an answer to the question, and Roger didn't have one to give. Why Mickey had been there was the least of Jack's worries at the moment, but it felt good to vent his frustration. He wasn't good at waiting. Patience always deserted him when in a hospital.
Hospital waiting rooms were always interminable places bringing little but worry and fear. Jack tried to pretend that both emotions didn't exist, that he was concerned about one of his officers, nothing more. However, he knew it was more than that. Mickey wasn't just another officer, he was a friend. A son.
Time became a false idol: Jack's watch seemingly playing tricks on him. Minutes were hours, the watch face inflaming the stress and agony of the waiting process. Uncomfortable, Roger offered to get Jack a coffee. The offer was accepted, but the coffee went cold as time ticked slowly on.
A man in green scrubs approached Roger, "you're here for Mr Webb?"
Jack stood up quickly, offering a handshake, "Superintendent Meadows."
"Mr Webb is now on the ward, we've had to remove the spleen, he also has a sprained wrist, severe brusing to his back and to his knees. He is awake, but he's in a lot of pain." The doctor was brisk and to the point, which Jack appreciated. "You can see him, but if you want to talk to him you'll have to be brief as he's extremely tired and weak." Jack nodded in acceptance, "follow me."
Roger followed the superintendent at a respectful distance, knowing that Mickey was a good friend of his and this was more than just an officer injured. Yet he wanted to see the DC for himself, as he hadn't been in a good way in the ambulance. He watched through the glass as Jack stood by the side of the bed, comforted that Mickey was awake and reacting, even if that reaction was a grimace of pain.
"You alright?" Jack rolled his eyes at himself as soon as the words left his lips.
"Never better guv," Mickey groaned as he gave up trying to move himself to a comfortable position.
"So what happened?"
"I dunno. I'd been to see a snout about the Brown case, I was walking back to my car and then wham, summat hits me and I'm on the floor."
"Uniform were down there, they'd had reports of gangs smashing cars. Chased one of them and came across you getting a beating. Good job they were there."
"You're telling me," despite the pain, Mickey grinned at the obviousness of their conversation. "They catch anyone?"
"Dunno yet, I came straight down here. Smithy and Neil are leading the investigation."
Mickey looked up, surprised. For the first time he saw the worry etched on Jack's face. "Shouldn't you be there?"
"I was worried about you."
"Me?" Jack just nodded, not wanting to say any more than that. He didn't need to. Mickey understood, and he was touched. "Thanks."
"So this snout on the Brown case, get anything useful?"
Mickey laughed, "that's the worst thing about it guv. He weren't in." He grimaced as pain shot through him, "remind me not to laugh again for a while eh?"
"So how long til you can get out of here?"
"Couple of days they reckon, recover from the surgery and that."
"Ah, that's not too bad."
Mickey rolled his eyes, "you're joking. It's gonna do me head in."
"I'll bring you some paperwork to do." Jack tried to keep a straight face as he saw Mickey's lip curl up in disgust.
"How's that gonna aid my recovery eh?"
A nurse walked into the room. "Mr Webb needs some rest now," she said, pointedly staring at the door.
Almost ignoring her, Jack motioned to Mickey's jacket, which was at the side of the bed along with what was left of his clothes, "your keys in there? I'll go round to yours to pick up some clean clothes if you want."
"Cheers guv, I'd appreciate that."
"See you later then, get some rest." Jack retreived the keys, dangling them on his finger before shoving them into his pocket.
Mickey nodded thoughtfully.
"Jack."
The superintendent turned round at the sound of his name. Mickey smiled briefly, and nodded, "thanks."