Occasions: Chapter 3
Author's Note: Again, thanks for all the reviewing/reading/favoriting/following. If you don't like medical operations being done on bar tables, skip the middle chunk of this chapter.
Disclaimer: If I owned Lost Girl, there would be more boobs.
Dyson is the first to get there when the call goes out. He had been boxing in his apartment with his police scanner left on as he punched the bag, trying to work the alcohol out of his system from his shots with Lauren earlier. The emergency tone on the radio goes off, notifying all officers to clear the channel as the dispatcher reports an unknown explosion. Dyson throws a shirt and jacket on, sure that the scene would need a detective.
"Dispatch, can you confirm the address for me?" He asks as he pushes his bike out onto the pavement. His blood runs cold as the dispatcher rattles off a street address that he is familiar with. Tamsin.
He kick starts the bike as he sends a text to Trick. 'Clear the bar and call Lauren.'
The sound of the bike's motor echoes from building to building as he tears down the street. He hasn't seen much of Tamsin the last few days. He can only hope that the address is wrong, that maybe his partner isn't home. As much as he had wanted her gone at the start of their partnership, he couldn't help but think of her as a friend now.
As he turns on to the block his heart sinks. Tamsin's truck is parked in its usual spot, engulfed in flames. Dyson pulls up as close as he can and scrambles off the bike.
"Tamsin!" He yells, holding his hand in front of his face to bat away the smoke. The cab of the truck is completely engulfed. The driver's door is wide open and he can tell no one is inside. He scans the area. A few people have gathered on the sidewalk to observe the flames. He can hear one of them describing the scene on the phone, probably talking to the fire department.
"I said I saw a girl crawl out, you need to send an ambulance too!" A twenty-something girl is exclaiming.
Dyson turns and jogs to the crowd. "Where's the girl? Where did she go?" He demands. It takes everything in him not to growl in frustration and fear as the girl takes her time before pointing off into the low shrubbery that sits adjacent to Tamsin's townhouse block.
He sprints off towards it, inhaling deeply as he goes. There you are, he thinks to himself as he catches a whiff of fae on the air. He breathes deeply, searching for her more with smell than with his eyes.
Dyson almost trips over her when he finally finds her. Tamsin is sprawled on her back, gasping for breath. There is a flash of fear in her eyes as she realizes she's been found, but relief quickly replaces it as she identifies Dyson. He kneels down to look at her, immediately noting several points on her skin that seemed to have been penetrated by broken glass. Shrapnel?
"Tamsin, can you hear me?" He asks. The valkyrie nods, letting out a low groan at the minimal effort she had made. Dyson gently lifts her arm, careful to avoid the pieces of glass as he pulls her to her feet. He wraps her arm over his shoulders and grabs her around the waist before hauling her up into his arms. "I have to get you to the Dal. Stay awake, stay with me."
The bar is clear when Dyson arrives, and Trick is quick to push glasses off of a long table to accommodate Tamsin's broken body. Dyson places her down gently and takes a few seconds to look her over now that the chaos had subsided. Despite the fire, she hasn't been burned. Her fingers are bloody and look as though they had probably sustained the most immediate damage. The more pressing issue is the series of small cuts and gashes dotting her arms, some with glass still sticking out.
"Where's Lauren?" Dyson asks as he settles on the bench next to Tamsin's face. The valkyrie is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and she's obviously in pain but still awake.
Trick brings over two pitchers of water and a small towel to start cleaning Tamsin off. "She's on her way. I didn't know what we were dealing with when you texted, so I told her to bring a little bit of everything. Have you called anyone else?"
Dyson shakes his head. "I heard the call on the radio and knew her address. I ran."
"It's a good thing you did," Trick replies, patting his shoulder with one hand as he dunks the towel in a pitcher with the other. "I should call Bo. She'd want to be here."
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Dyson interjects. "Her and Lauren—"
Trick raises his hand, waving off Dyson's concern as he strokes Tamsin's forehead with the cloth. "If Lauren can get this glass out of Tamsin's cuts, Bo may be able to heal her and then we can figure out what happened."
Tamsin groans on the table in front of them, her body shuddering at the effort it takes for her to roll onto her side and drink from the water pitcher. Dyson puts a hand on her leg, holding her steady. Her breaths are coming in big heaves as she sets the pitcher down.
"Tamsin, I need you to relax," Trick says gently. The blonde looks up at him, her expression pained. "Just rest and let us take care of you now."
The sentimentality of it would normally make her want to vomit, but Tamsin settles for a nod under the circumstances. She closes her eyes and tries to even out her breathing by counting to three between each breath. With every inhale and exhale she can feel her arms burning and it makes her want to scream.
At that moment, Lauren walks in, carrying two duffel bags that are immediately dropped as she notices just who exactly her patient is. "Tamsin?"
Trick nods and beckons her over. He motions to the slices in Tamsin's skin, both small and large, which litter her arms. Lauren nods solemnly and returns to her bags, pulling out gauze, hydrogen peroxide, petroleum jelly, and a set of long, thin tweezers. She pauses briefly, looking over at Tamsin's prone form and reminding herself of the oath she took when she became a doctor. You don't get to choose your patients.
"Tamsin, none of this should hurt. It may feel a little unpleasant, but I need to clean the glass out of these cuts," Lauren says softly as she takes hold of Tamsin's left arm. The first few pieces of glass that Lauren pulls out are jagged and about the size of a nickel. She drops them on a small plate on the table, methodically moving from Tamsin's wrist to her shoulder, rotating to ensure that all the large pieces had been retrieved.
Off in the corner of the bar, Trick's voice can be heard talking to someone on the phone. Lauren assumes its Bo, and takes a deep breath as she mentally readies herself. The valkyrie stares at her evenly as the she pours a steady stream of hydrogen peroxide over the length of her arm. The liquid bubbles on Tamsin's skin, but doesn't burn as it pushes out several tiny glass fragments that Lauren's eyes alone had missed. The doctor wipes her arm down with water and applies a generous coat of petroleum jelly before covering it in gauze.
Tamsin's eyes close as Lauren stands to move to the other side of the table. Her arm feels better. The burning sensation is gone, but she still feels weak. Lauren is repeating the same process over again as Bo walks in with Kenzi in tow. The pair stops in the doorway much in the same way that Lauren had.
Bo swears her heart stops beating for a good minute as she stands in the doorway of the Dal, watching Lauren take care of Tamsin. The valkyrie's eyes are closed, and her express is neutral. You were fine when you left, Bo thinks as she steps closer to the table.
The sound of footsteps makes Tamsin open her eyes and she meets Bo's worried gaze. The blonde opens her mouth to speak, unsure of what exactly to say, but Bo raises her hand to shush her. The brunette takes a seat at Tamsin's side, opposite Lauren, watching as the doctor finishes wrapping Tamsin's arm with gauze.
Lauren gently raises Tamsin's top, checking for any cuts under the valkyrie's shirt. The fae's toned stomach is clear of any visible defects, and the doctor is satisfied with her work. Without a word, Lauren gathers up her equipment and strides up to Trick behind the bar.
"I'm going to take this glass and examine in, there's something off about it," Lauren says as she displays a piece of jagged yellow crystal. "Tamsin should be fine. All the glass is out, bleeding is stopped. She may have some scarring with the larger cuts, but nothing that will affect her long term that I can see."
"Thank you, Lauren," Trick replies with a nod. "We'll take it from here. Let me know what you find out about the glass."
Lauren heads to the door, not trusting herself to handle a conversation with Bo right now. Dyson follows her and stoops to carry her extra bag out to the car. They both can't help but notice that Bo's eyes follow neither of them when they walk out the door. The brunette's eyes are fixed on Tamsin, eyeing the damage to the valkyrie's thin arms. Bo is thankful that Lauren's examination had stopped at the stomach, lest she may have found the bite marks that Bo had left on Tamsin's collar bone earlier.
"Hey," the succubus finally says, breaking the silence. "You want to tell me what happened? Who did this to you?"
Tamsin takes in a deep breath and sighs. She knows it is only a matter of time before she'll have to fully divulge the details of what had happened, but she desperately needs more time to figure out how best to tell Bo. "It's a long story and I'm exhausted."
"You're right, I'm sorry. It's just…seeing you like this…" Bo replies softly. She rests a hand on Tamsin's hip, one of the only places within her reach that isn't covered in bandages. The succubus's eyes are brimmed with tears that she hastily holds back. "You were fine when you left."
"I'll be fine. It's just a few cuts," Tamsin assures her. The valkyrie puts on a brave face, rolling over and slowly sitting up. A wave of nausea hits her and she has to force herself to stay upright. Tamsin rests her hand gently on Bo's arm, giving it a single pat as she stands to head out of the bar. Without a backward glance, she whispers, "I'll call you."