Bill wasn't a patient man at the best of times. He found out that being stuck in an asylum with a broken leg and an occasionally flickering torch as his companion was far from the best times.
He watched nervously as Charlie painstakingly slowly climbed the rope. Bill had no idea how he would fare. He cringed when he saw Davis falter for a second, grimaced at hearing the laborious breathing and occasional sound of pain as the man fought the gravity and his own injuries.
Bill was no fool. He knew Charlie was hurt during their little 'tumble' down the stairs, but seeing that the man wasn't actively bleeding or dying, he decided to ignore the fact. If he paid too much attention to his colleague, he would have found it harder to lean on him and then they would most likely still be stuck somewhere deep inside the corridors of this shithole.
Well, Bill was still stuck, but at least Charlie had made it up and there was all the better chance that Bill will soon follow him. He hoped.
Because there was no way he could stay in this hell hole, alone for several more hours and not succumb to the ghosts of the past.
It was hard enough seeing this place, what it used to represent. To Bill and to his mother. Fear and pain, a threat hanging over his head, nothing else. And seeing the treatment rooms...
Bill shuddered, his stomach flipping around. He would rather climb up the blasted rope inch by inch than stay here any longer.
He looked up the shaft and saw movement. Lawson's head leaned over the edge.
"You alright there Bill?"
Bill snorted. It was a stupid question.
"Peachy. Can I use the rope now?"
"Give us a minute. Charlie here had an idea and we need to untie this end so we can pull you up."
"What idea?" Bill asked with a frown. He wasn't sure he wanted to be testing out any ideas from Davis, especially not ones involving him hanging on a rope several meters above ground.
"Just a minute, Bill. Rest up till then," Lawson commanded and Bill growled. His heart skipped a beat and he had to stop himself from lunging ahead when he saw the rope was being pulled up, without him.
He knew it was irrational, but it felt as if he was being abandoned here with his demons.
Suddenly everything looked all the more threatening.
"Bloody bastards," Bill grumbled under his breath as he watched the rope vanish in the opening upstairs. His chest felt just a bit tighter at the sight. He wanted to keep looking, as if it could make Lawson and Davis work faster, as if even the sliver of light he saw above offered some kind of safety.
He couldn't.
There was that feeling, one he was trying to ignore for the last hour or so. The feeling of being watched.
Logically, he knew it was unlikely. There was no other way to get down here. If anyone was here, they would've had to been there before their arrival. Of course, that wasn't exactly impossible. And they didn't actually explore all the corridors, Bill reminded himself rather unhelpfully.
Cursing his own mind, Bill turned the torch down from the shaft, aiming it at the door from the locker rooms. It was closed, just like they left it. There were no shadows moving there.
No strange sounds either... only silence broken by a soft sound of voices far above. The light blinked and Bill almost let out a yelp. Instead, he gave a quick prayer. He would never admit it out loud, but in this moment he hoped there was actually someone up there listening to him. He just couldn't stay there in darkness. Even knowing that it was only few wobbly steps separating him from an utterly dark corridor sent chills down his spine.
He should have taken the few steps, to shine the torch down the hall and make sure it was empty. He should have found the courage and moved through the pain.
He couldn't.
Feeling the stabbing pain from his leg every time he so much as breathed shooting up into his knee and hip seemed like a good enough excuse. Even though he knew the pain had nothing on the fear that if he stepped there, he would actually come face to face with someone. Or some thing.
Bill didn't believe in ghosts. But that didn't mean much. He didn't believe in people born as clean sheets and the society forming them either. According to Bill, folks were either bastards or not. But that didn't mean there weren't exceptions and if there could have been exceptions to one thing, why not the other?
Who was to say of all the poor souls that found their end in these halls and rooms not one decided to just... stick around?
Bill shook his head.
No, he couldn't think like that, or next thing he would see would be his mother's face.
Logically, he knew she wasn't here. She had died at home, not that it made things easier. Still, this place seemed to bring back memories in the worst possible way.
Bill just wanted out.
"How much longer?" he called upwards, not even trying to hide his anger and desperation.
"One moment. Watch out!" Lawson called back and Bill could see something long being thrown his way. He instinctively took a step backwards, rising his arms to protect his head. The thing stopped its descent a few feet above him, clanking against the wall of the shaft.
Bill gasped out from pain as his broken leg gave a protest and he almost fell to the dirty floor.
"Bloody hell!" he cursed, glaring upwards.
"Sorry," came the somehow apologetic shout from Davis.
Bill growled.
"Is it at your level?" he asked and Bill pointed the torch at the 'thing'.
He blinked.
"Is that your cane boss?"
"Yeah. Charlie thought it might be easier for you to use it as a seat... sort of."
Bill blinked again. The cane thumped against the wall once again as it was lowered a bit more. He reached for it and examined it. The cane seemed to be tied well to the rope in its middle. There was maybe a feet more of the rope dangling below. About a meter above the cane was a crudely made knot. Bill wasn't sure what it was supposed to be for.
"The knot is for easier grip if you need it," Davis called back down as if reading his mind. Bill kind of hated him for that.
"Great," he mumbled and grimaced. The 'seat' didn't seem to be too stable. He was sure it would require some balancing or he could easily slide off and plummet back down. But he supposed it might be a slightly more comfortable option to just tying the rope around his waist and hope he wouldn't slip through or accidentally hang himself. Bill was not good with knots.
He still didn't feel this was safe.
He was of half a mind to call at them to just leave and get some professional help. Preferably someone who knew what they were doing.
But that might mean hours and hours of waiting.
Alone... with the blinking torch.
Bill didn't even want to ponder the thought of the light going out at this point. He would most likely start whimpering like a little girl and hell if he allowed that to happen. Even falling to his death from a badly tied rope would be more acceptable to him. Especially if it would cause feelings of guilt and anguish to Davis and Lawson. The bastards deserved it. He was sure this whole mess was their fault anyway. Theirs and Blake's.
"Bill? Alright there?" Lawson asked and Bill realized he was standing there unmoving for far too long. He checked the cane once more, hoping it would be able to handle his weight.
"I need a bit more rope!" He called upwards and felt the rope lower a bit more. Once it was at the height of his thigh, he let them know.
Now came the tricky part and that was to move his legs over the cane. He tried lifting up his injured leg, knowing well he wouldn't be able to put weight on it. He managed to lift it only few inches then had to grab the rope for support as he stumbled, pain shooting up his leg. For a second he felt as if the lights had gone out and the ensuing panic gave him a rush of adrenaline. He blinked to see the torch working and heard cursing from the top.
"Damn it Bill, warn us! You almost pulled Davis down!"
Bill swallowed hard. It took him a second to find his voice but it was still a shaky 'Sorry' leaving his lips.
"Alright. Just... don't do it again. Everything alright?"
"Yeah," Bill said, even though he felt less and less sure of this plan. If him leaning on the rope almost pulled Davis down, how could he trust them to haul him up?
"If you need a break, let us know now. Or if you changed your mind."
These might've been words of care, but Bill felt as if Lawson just accused him of chickening out. He bristled.
"No, I am good. Give me a second!"
Bill knew that trying to get his leg up wasn't much of an option. But maybe he didn't have to. He tugged at the rope, just a few inches lower and manoeuvred the cane between his thighs. He was reminded of one hot summer, when as a haughty teen he and some of his pals enjoyed a few days away from everyone on a camping trip. It involved lots of booze, some hitchhiking and a day at a lake. There was a huge tree and a rope. At the end of it was a small plank. While it had the rope pulled through a hole in the middle and tied off with a much safer looking knot, the principle was the same.
Bill put the cane between his legs and positioned it so he had some support. Once he felt that he was well balanced, he grabbed at the knot that was now right in front of his face.
Now all he needed was to decide which way he wanted to be facing. If he would face the wall, he might perhaps help somehow, grabbing at whatever ledges there were and heaving himself up by his arms. The downside of this was that he would basically be dragged up the wall, with his legs bumping into it. He doubted he would be able to hold onto the rope or even consciousness if that was the case. He would rather risk a bruised back and cling to the rope with all his might.
Who cared if that meant putting all his trust in the hands of the two men above.
Swallowing down his fear, Bill turned around. At this moment it meant opening his back to the elevator entrance and towards the dark hallway.
Chills ran down his spine as he put the torch behind his belt, knowing he would need both hands to hold on.
That meant his only light source was now shining down at a weird angle, because Lawson also put his torch down to grab the rope.
Bill cleared his throat and with the barest of fear called out.
"Ready!"
For a second nothing happened and Bill felt the crawling worry that something went wrong and he was alone. Then he felt a tug on the rope.
"Hold on!"
Bill hissed. The rope moved and the cane had pressed against his buttocks rather uncomfortably as he was swept off his feet. At first, his broken leg felt a momentary relief of being absolved of the weight of his body. The pull of gravity however wasn't any kinder. The rope jerked then came to a halt.
Bill knew he couldn't be more than a meter above the ground.
"What's wrong?" He shouted, his voice cracking. He was hanging in the air, in the dark, his legs essentially swinging by the lift entrance. One leg was throbbing with pain, the other feeling strangely numb.
He couldn't help it, he felt like a kid again.
Like that five year old boy, being scared of sleeping with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed because something might reach out and pull him under.
That was the feeling he had now... as if any second something would grab his ankle, burrow its nails into it and pull.
He could almost feel the touch. Was that someone breathing he was hearing? Was it someone else's heart beating so loud?
The rope jerked and Bill yelped in startle, expecting to fall down. But the movement was different. He was going up.
He was clinging to the knot on the rope so hard at moments he wasn't even touching the cane.
It was a dreadfully slow and painful climb. He was somewhere in the middle of it when all the movement managed to dislodge the torch from his belt.
Bill had the presence of mind not to try and catch it, but he let out a surprised gasp as it hit the floor. It didn't stop shining.
"Bill?!" A panicked voice of his boss called down upon hearing the crash. The rope paused.
"I am fine, just the torch! Keep... keep pulling!" Bill called back and was relieved when the rope started moving again. Even more so as he squinted down. The torch was aimed towards the entrance.
Bill wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a shadow move. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. As he looked the second time, the torch blinked and died.
Bill could've sworn in that moment he saw the shadow reach out towards him.
He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth to stop himself from screaming.
He kept his eyes closed until he felt a draft of air on his back then a hand grabbing his shoulder.
He let out a yelp then, although he would never admit it.
Another hand grabbed the rope just above his hands and soon Bill was hauled backwards. He was still clenching the rope as both he and his rescuer came crashing to the floor, breaths heavy and loud.
It was then that Bill really took in the image of Lawson, lying on the floor next to him and Davis, crumpled not far away. He still had some scraps of a shirt tied around his hands, probably for a better grip.
In that moment, Bill didn't care what happened in the past between them. If his body would have allowed, he would have hugged both men right where they were.
Fortunately, his body was protesting the mere idea and Bill was spared the future embarrassment. He still managed a raspy "Thanks," to both of them at least.
Lawson nodded while Davis grumbled back something sounding suspiciously like "You need to lose weight!"
Bill decided he would give the man a pass on that. Or have a worthy come back as soon as his heart calmed down.
Which might be never it seemed.
It took Bill a while to notice through the thudding in his temples that there was some strange buzzing sound. At first he thought it might be just the ringing in his ears. But then he saw that Lawson's head shot up as well and all three of them went still.
The sound was now clear... the engine of a car.
Not one car even, but at least two.
The engines stopped, there was the slamming of the doors and hushed male voices.
Bill struggled to get himself into a sitting position, Lawson managing to get up on his feet.
Without a sound, he turned off the torch, leaving them all in sudden darkness.
Bill didn't mind.
All he focused on was the sound of someone approaching. The rattle of the door as it creaked open...
Lawson turned on the torch just as a shadow appeared in the door, effectively blinding the intruder.
"Oh, you got to be kidding!" Lawson said exasperatedly. Bill squinted at the figure and let out a groan of disbelief. Really. It felt as if fate itself decided to play tricks on them tonight. Or someone had a very crude sense of humour.
Blake and the others could only watch. Perhaps they might've had saved the office from the flames or at least mitigated the damage if they found more fire extinguishers and used some water buckets, but they had more pressing matters at hand. Namely several injured people, two still partially drunk prisoners and of course the men that attacked the station.
Before the help arrived though, Blake had put his attention to making sure everyone injured was out of danger. With Jean's help, he moved Peter across the parking lot, further away from the police station, towards the parked cars. He gave him a quick once over, making sure he wasn't hurt too seriously. Fortunately, it looked like his worst injury was the head wound and perhaps a sprained ankle from a bad landing.
Blake wanted to start asking questions, try to figure out what really happened and what he knew about the location of Matthew and Charlie, but before he could do that, Danny grabbed his arm, returning from the call.
"The brigade will be there in few minutes. Doc... there are several injured folks inside. We should get them out in case the fire gets out of control," Danny shot a worried look towards the station.
Lewis was also eyeing it worriedly, one arm covering his nose, while the other was still pressed against the handcuffed arms of the attacker who was pinned to the ground. Blake noticed that Cunningham was gone.
"Alright, you two-" he looked pointedly at Rose and Jean. "I want you to stay outside. And I mean it this time!" he added with a frown. Jean raised a brow in a silent challenge and he gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Please," he muttered into her ear and pulled back. "I don't want you near that fire, in case there are more petrol cans lying around." When he saw she was about to protest, he raised a hand.
"I also need your help here. We will be bringing everyone out here... it's the best place for an ambulance too. Can one of you call the hospital to send at least two cars?"
Rose sighed, but nodded.
"I'll go," she rushed off.
"Can you keep an eye on Peter here, make sure he doesn't fall asleep?"
"I'm fine!" Peter protested, even though he was squinting against the light coming from the fire. Jean just nodded, giving a pat to Blake's shoulder, seeing that Danny was already halfway back inside the building.
"Just be careful," she said and Blake gave her a thankful smile before following Danny inside.
He paused at the corridor. There was dark smoke coming from underneath the office door and he could feel the heat, although no flames yet. He had to go past that to get deeper into the building. He thought that perhaps they would have to revise their plan and bring anyone else out through the front door.
"Danny?" he called out, trying to locate his wayward friend.
"Over here Doc!" Danny called and Blake followed him towards the main hall where he last saw the three other attackers. To his relief, the men were still down, handcuffed and being held at gunpoint by Jamieson. Danny was there too, pulling the attacker that was shot in the shoulder up rather gruffly. Instead of outside however, he was dragging him the opposite way.
"Danny? Where are you going?" Blake inquired worriedly.
"Cells. The fire won't get there and I want these scumbags secured. Once backup arrives, they can call in a doc for them or something. I don't care," he uttered in a growl, ignoring the pained grunts from his prisoner. Blake raised a brow but didn't comment. He wasn't sure what transpired during Danny's solo action, but based on the bruise colouring his face and the anger still simmering just under the surface, he had reason to be angry.
Blake looked at the other two prisoners, handcuffed together. Jamieson looked up at him.
"Can we move them, Dr. Blake?" the man asked, mostly from medical perspective. He didn't seem to have any arguments against Danny's unilateral decision, even though he wasn't technically working here anymore.
Blake nodded.
"Sure. Anything will be better than leaving them here and risking more trouble," he muttered and with Jamieson's help they each grabbed a man by an arm and pulled them up. While the one with the wounded leg was still unconscious, the one in the uniform was wide awake. He cursed at the movement but didn't attempt to fight back and escape.
Good, Blake thought. He wasn't sure he would use any consideration for his health in such an attempt.
They didn't even make it half way to the cells when they heard Danny speak in a much softer tone.
"Alright there mate?" he asked and as they turned the corner, Blake saw another figure slumped on the floor. The man was in some ill fitting clothes and covered in bruises and blood, barely holding onto consciousness. For a second Blake thought it was another of the attackers, but that didn't fit well with Danny's tone as he practically showed his prisoner against the wall several feet away, ignoring his yelp of pain.
The figure on the ground muttered something then spat out a wad of blood, grimacing.
"Shit. Kelly?" It was Jamieson who recognized his colleague. Blake grimaced, torn on whether he should go offer some help to Kelly or finish dragging the attacker into the cell.
"Help him, Doc," Jamieson said, pushing their prisoners to the ground, freeing Blake up.
Blake went over to Kelly and started checking him out. He didn't notice when Danny left with his prisoner, only to reappear a moment later with Cunningham by his side. Jamieson and Cunningham took the other two prisoners to the cells while Danny stayed by Blake's side.
Kelly was in bad shape, Blake could tell. While the man had suffered many bruises and contusions, what was the most worrying was the head injury. It seemed that they didn't spare him any abuse and Kelly was slipping in and out of consciousness. Blake was trying to stem the bleeding of the head wound while at the same time keep Kelly awake, but it was a futile battle. The man needed an x-ray and quite likely surgery.
"Doc? Anything I can do?" Danny asked, watching worriedly as Kelly muttered something about too many salmons in the sea.
"Is there anyone else hurt?" Blake asked nervously. He wasn't sure how many ambulances the hospital sent out and he was trying to remember who had the night shift at the hospital and whether they would require additional help. While under different circumstances he wouldn't hesitate to offer his services and follow up about Kelly and Peter, right now they still needed to find out what happened to Matthew, Charlie and possibly Bill. The men could be in danger themselves, hurt or worse... Blake couldn't just ignore that.
"Uh... there is one other attacker. Jean nailed him good with a fire extinguisher, but the bastard deserved it. I wouldn't be losing time with him," Danny said in an uncharacteristically cold tone. Blake shot him a questioning look but Danny just shook his head, obviously not in the mood to talk.
"There are two other guys locked up, I think they're both drunk. We moved them into one cell. They are mostly fine, though one of them has a messed up finger. He's complaining to all hell, but doesn't seem to be in any danger."
Blake grimaced.
"You locked up the other three in one cell?"
"Two cells and there's four of them. The fifth one is outside with Lewis, if the man didn't let him run away."
Blake shuddered. Jean and Rose were outside. He hoped to hell that Lewis wasn't as incompetent as he seemed.
"Alright. I think our priorities are to get Kelly to the hospital, make sure those bastards are secured and then find out where are the others."
Danny nodded. As if in agreement of that plan, they could hear the sound of sirens approaching.
"Finally," Danny said with relief and Blake couldn't but agree.
The fire brigade did a quick job. Fortunately, Danny had slammed the door on the office closed and the fire didn't spread outside of the room. The window and the wall around it were charred with dark smoke billowing out and the door had caught on fire but by that time the fire engine arrived. Several burly men pulled up a hose and handled the situation.
It was a sort of controlled chaos as the fire brigade helped to clear out the building. They got into a bit of a tiff with Danny and Cunningham when they didn't like the fact there were people locked up in the cells, but when neither cop stepped down, the fire brigade captain shrugged and decided he had better things to do. The fire had been mostly under control and seeing the injured man on the floor was about to be moved to the stretcher, the captain let it go.
During all of that, Blake tried to keep Kelly awake and at the same time attempted to gain some information. Unfortunately, Kelly couldn't tell him much. He remembered Lawson and Charlie leaving, but that was about it. Where they went or what happened afterwards was unknown to him.
This left them either with interrogating the prisoners or talking to Peter. Blake decided that Peter might be a better source and he wanted to check on him anyways. He watched as Kelly was put into an ambulance then walked around the building to the back of the station. The fire was mostly under control by then and there were several curious onlookers from the nearby buildings. Fortunately, it was quite late at night and most people were at home sleeping. Blake didn't think Lawson would appreciate all the gawkers. Several policemen started trickling in as Lewis had settled in one of the undamaged offices and started calling around.
"Let's find out where the others went, shall we?" Blake said as he passed by Danny, who was just filling in one of the newcomers.
"About time," Danny noted as he gave a pat to the officers shoulder. "If you can, leave someone by the cells on guard, will you?"
The officer nodded and went off.
"Any reason why you are soaking wet and smelling of gasoline?" Blake asked as they were walking towards the parking lot. He originally thought that Danny poured some water on himself to get protection from the flames, but then Blake realized there was hardly time for that between the flames going up and Danny's arrival. The smell covering the young man was more telling than anything.
Danny shrugged, a somehow sheepish look on his face.
"Got a bit doused with gasoline. I didn't want to risk catching flames because someone throws a match."
Blake shot him a look of disbelief.
"You realize that water wouldn't have helped had you barged into the office when it was on fire?"
Danny shrugged, a smirk on his face.
"Good thing then that I didn't, right?"
Blake fought down the urge to strangle the man for his recklessness. He was sure Jean would have a word to say about that though.
"Good thing indeed," he said with a resigned sigh.
Blake and Danny found Peter where they left him. Jean had managed to find some clean towel and was helping Peter to hold it against the wound, while talking to him gently. Blake looked around, frowning when he didn't see Rose right away.
"Rose went inside with the fire fighters to take some shots," Jean said when she noted his look.
Blake raised a brow. He would have thought her worry about Lawson and Charlie would overcome her thirst for a good article, but it seemed Rose could be a professional under any circumstances.
"It's not like she was any good here," Jean commented.
That wasn't what Blake wanted to hear. He squatted down next to the half conscious officer and tapped his face gently.
"Peter? How are you doing here?"
Peter blinked as if waking up from a dream. He looked a bit lost and confused.
"Dr. Blake?" he asked, as if surprised by his presence. Blake grimaced, seeing the confusion. He hoped it was mostly just the result of the stress and the fact the threat was over and not a sign of a serious concussion or brain damage.
"Yes, it's me. Do you remember what happened, Peter?"
Peter's eyes shot towards the broken window of the office and he frowned, then his eyes cleared some. He cursed.
"We... we were taken over," he said with a groan and leaned his head back against the car. "God, the superintendent will kill us..."
His eyes shot wide open.
"Bloody hell! Lawson!"
Peter tried to get up but the motion made him dizzy and Blake pushed him back down.
"Yes, Lawson. Can you tell us where he is?"
"And if Davis was with him?" Danny added helpfully.
"Uh... I think so? They... they left together I think," Peter said, although he didn't sound too sure.
"Did they leave before these men arrived?" Blake asked the question that bothered him the most. If they left earlier then they might be fine...
"Yes, they... they left shortly before. The boss wanted to get home earlier but... he was delayed. I know he wasn't happy about that," Peter said, forehead scrunched as he was trying to put everything together. His face had pulled into a grimace and as he looked up at Blake, his eyes filled with regret.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but I had no choice. They had a gun to my head, I... I didn't want to die," he started babbling and Blake put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.
"Hey, it's alright. Whatever happened, just tell us."
"The man... he wanted me to make a fake call. On the radio. It... it was supposed to be Hobart, no one else. I swear I didn't know the Boss took the car with the radio. I wouldn't have... I tried to warn him. I did!" Peter was becoming more and more agitated and Blake knew he should try to calm him down and cease the questioning, but with every word his worry about his friends grew.
"Slow down. Deep breaths..." he waited for a moment until Peter followed the order, all the while seemingly trying to formulate what was on his mind.
"Good. Now... where are Matthew, Charlie and Bill?"
So Peter told them.
There was momentary silence and several confused looks all around.
"So... you sent them on a false call... to an abandoned asylum?" Danny repeated what he heard.
"Was the call false? I hope there is no missing child involved in all of this!" Jean retorted worriedly.
"I'm pretty sure it was fake," Peter said, his face paling. "I... I think it was a trap. They... they didn't call back."
Blake ran a hand over his beard, thinking.
"That was what... two-three hours ago?"
Peter blinked.
"Was it just three hours?" he wondered out loud.
"Maybe a bit more," Blake waved it off. "So total radio silence? No call for help?"
"No, nothing. The man... he didn't seem... bothered."
That wasn't good. That meant it was definitely a trap and it was more than likely that there was someone else working with the men. But Peter wouldn't be the one to have the answers.
"Anything else you think can help us?" Blake asked and when Peter gave a soft shake of head and a barely audible apology, Blake patted his shoulder.
"It's alright. You did all you could. We will find out what happened to the others."
With that, he flagged down an orderly from the ambulance that had Kelly on board. With his help they got Peter into the passenger seat and the first ambulance was off to the hospital. The second ambulance stood waiting, while the orderlies were bringing out a stretcher with the attacker who had been stabbed in the leg. Blake headed towards them, intent on asking the man some questions, but he was unconscious.
Blake and Danny re-entered the building. The other man, the one Cunningham managed to shot in the shoulder, was being led out of the cells as well, staggering and cursing all the way. Blake and Danny headed right towards him. Before Blake could as much as raise a finger, Danny grabbed the man and slammed him against the wall.
He let out a yelp of pain and a barrage of curses.
"Shut up, or I'll do much worse," Danny growled threateningly. Blake was almost impressed. Sure, Matthew might be pissed later when he saw the smear of blood on the wall, but that was a matter for another day.
"What the hell Parks?" Jamieson asked in surprise, though he didn't make any effort to stop him.
"What was the plan, huh? At the asylum. What was the plan?"
"Lemme go, you fucking pig! I won't say a damn word to the likes of you!" the man spat then grunted as Danny drove a fist into his side. Blake reached out. It was one thing to question the man, another to beat him up.
"Who else is working with you?" Danny pressed on.
The man laughed.
"What don't you understand, cop? I'm not talking to you!"
"Oh. Playing hard to get? Well, maybe you don't need to see a doctor after all. Maybe a day or two in the cell won't hurt you any!" Danny said angrily, turning the man and showing him back towards the cells.
"What? No! You fuckers shot me... I need a bloody doc!" the man started to protest.
"And I need bloody answers!" Danny shouted as he slammed him against the wall once again.
"Danny!" Blake didn't want to, but he had to stop this. He couldn't in good conscience look on to torture, however much he would have liked to kick the snot out of the man himself.
"If you have a problem Doc, turn around," Danny growled. Blake shot a questioning look at Jamieson, but the man just shrugged. He didn't seem inclined to offer any help.
Blake grunted.
"Alright then. I'll be outside, getting the car ready. We don't have all night, so don't keep long," he said and without another word turned and left. He could hear a few grunts from behind him but there was no screaming and however angry Danny looked, Blake knew the boy. He would threaten and push, but he wasn't one to do serious body harm. Or well, he didn't use to be that kind of a cop before. Blake couldn't be sure whether working in Melbourne had changed him or not, but the kid still had his heart in the right place.
On his way out he ran into Rose. Quite literally. They bumped into each other, Rose yelping and protectively grabbing at her precious camera, while Blake put out a steadying hand.
"Everything alright Rose?" he asked, blocking her way. He wasn't about to let her go down the hall and bump into Danny and their prisoner.
"No, nothing is right! The fire brigade captain kicked me out. I tried to get to the cells and find out where is Charlie and uncle Matthew, but some snot nosed officer kicked me out as well! And now I can't even find Peter or Danny and-"
"Whoa, it's alright. We know where they are."
"You do?" she blinked. "Well? Where?" she asked when Blake didn't seem to come forth with the answer.
Blake, starkly reminded of the fact that Rose and Jean had left the house and put themselves into a dangerous situation, decided that this time he won't be as straightforward.
"I'll let you know... as soon as we find them."
Rose spluttered.
"You can't just keep it to yourself! I have a right to know where's my uncle and Charlie!"
Blake nodded.
"Yes. But we don't know what's the situation there and I very much doubt Matthew would thank me for endangering you in any way. Even your presence at the station is rather unfortunate."
"Well, Danny didn't seem to mind when we saved his ass!" she recounted fiercely.
Blake raised a brow, not sure what she was talking about. He had a feeling it might've had something with Danny being wet and Jean brandishing a fire extinguisher. He would love to hear the story behind it, but this was not the place or time. He heard a pained grunt and a whiny voice coming from the corridor down below. Rose turned there, her eyes squinting in suspicion. Blake sighed, taking hold of her arm and nudging her outside.
"I think it's best if you wait here, Rose. I don't want to see you following us, do you understand?"
Rose's face hardened and he could see that familiar pout combined with determination. He sighed.
"Rose, please. Do it for my sake if nothing else?"
"I don't know what you mean, Lucien."
"I'd rather not face Matthew if something was to happen to you, that's all. Not to mention Charlie. The lad is rather fond of you still."
Rose blinked, clearly thrown and Blake's lips twitched. Fortunately, he was saved from a barrage of new questions by Danny appearing behind him. Blake turned and saw that the shot man was being led towards the ambulance, not much worse for wear, except for a freshly bleeding lip. He sighed.
"Learned anything useful?"
Danny shook his head, frustrated.
"He's just the driver. The ring leader is the only one who knew of the whole plan, but it would take too much time to make him talk. I thought we better risk it than lose time here."
Blake nodded, agreeing with that sentiment.
"Got any good pictures?" Danny asked Rose with a smirk. She gave him a stink eye, checking her camera then shooting a glare at Blake.
Then suddenly she seemed to realize something and changed her tune. She stepped up towards Danny and gave him an innocent, pleading look.
"Where's uncle Matthew?"
Danny blinked, obviously taken aback. She was too close in his personal space and Blake could see Danny's nostrils flaring as he caught the smell of her perfume.
Blake rolled his eyes and when Danny shot him a questioning look, he gave a slight shake of a head.
Danny sighed, but understood.
"I'm sorry, that's not an information I am allowed to give you."
She pouted and Blake could see she was about ready to use some of her acting skills. He would've chuckled, sat back and watched the show, but they had no time for that. He saw Jean approaching and in a momentary urge grabbed her, pulling her into his embrace. She seemed taken aback but relaxed into his arms, returning the hug.
"I meant it when I said I want you safe," Blake muttered into her ear while Rose was trying to pry some information out of Danny.
Jean seemed to understand at least. She sighed and nodded. However much she wanted to help, she understood that at this point they would be more of a distraction than help.
Still, there were things she wanted to share as well.
"I want the same for you. Stay safe?"
Blake's lips twitched in a smile.
"For you? Always."
She snorted and he knew she just had a ton of things to add, but they heard a yelp and turned to see Danny putting Rose physically aside, out of his way.
"Enough. While I enjoyed the show, we need to move," he said, looking at Blake.
"Is someone coming with you?" Jean asked, always the practical one.
"Yeah, Cunningham should be joining us. He will take one of the cars with the radio so we can call help if needed."
"Good thinking," Blake said, glad that they wouldn't be going without any form of backup. Jean and Rose glared though.
"Just one cop?"
"Well, there's not that many around and I'd rather they make sure the situation is under control here," Danny said. "Don't worry. We are not going unarmed," he said and pulled a revolver from his pocket. "There was a safe in the evidence room they didn't manage to get in, holding some spare weapons and ammunition. Cunningham knew the combination. Here are some spare bullets for you, Doc," he said and handed Blake a small box. Blake wasn't happy about it, but took it, knowing it might just get some use.
"Alright. Let's head out," he said and then with one last admonishment to Rose and Jean about staying put, they headed for Blake's car. Danny waved as he saw Cunningham coming out of the station and the man gave them a nod before heading towards one of the police cars as well.
They waited a minute and Blake watched Rose talking to Jean fiercely. She seemed sprung and ready to go, heading towards where he assumed she had parked.
"Damn. I swear, if they will follow us again," Blake grunted. He was surprised when Danny let out an amused chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. I just doubt they will have much luck with that. Not unless Rose knows how to hotwire her car," Danny said as he held out a pair of car keys.
Blake blinked.
"How..."
Danny shrugged.
"I swiped the keys when she was trying to sweet talk me," he admitted and Blake laughed.
"Talk about playing the player," he said with a smirk. There was a honk of a horn and a police car passed them. Blake turned on the engine and followed. He saw Rose in the back mirror, rushing down the street. He felt a twinge of remorse for his wife, but pushed it back. If anyone knew how to handle Rose, it would be Jean.
Jean didn't want to handle Rose. Or better said, she was of half a mind to follow the girl and make sure her husband and Danny didn't get into any more trouble. She also wanted to be there for Matthew and Charlie and bring them home, hopefully unharmed.
When Rose hopped into her car, Jean followed suit, unsure of what she would do. Lucien asked her to stay behind but she wanted nothing more than to go against his wish. Didn't the man know she could handle herself?
"Where... bloody hell!" Rose smacked the steering wheel and Jean startled, looking at her with surprise.
"What's the problem?" she asked, a bit taken aback by the rage on Rose's face.
"I'm going to kill him. I swear, if he survives this, I'm going to kill him!"
"Rose!" Jean yelped, unaccustomed to such theatrics from her friend. "What on earth is the matter? And why aren't you starting the car? They are already off the street."
Rose grimaced, slamming the wheel once again then shooting Jean a look of defeat.
"He took my keys."
Jean blinked, not expecting that answer.
"Who did?" she had her suspicion, but wanted to make sure it wasn't her husband Rose was planning to murder.
"Danny! That stubborn, foolish, misogynist idiot-"
"Rose!" Jean halted her mid tirade. "You're still talking about my best friend's son," she reminded her with somehow of a smirk.
Rose had the decency to look sheepish, but the embarrassment was swiftly chased away by the rage.
"It was such an unbelievable jerk of a move still!" she let out then leaned back against the seat.
Jean didn't disagree on that. She just sighed and patted Rose on the arm in commiseration.
"I know," she said gently and although she felt a simmer of anger at Danny as well, for trying to keep them back, she couldn't but admire his sneakiness. Not that she would say it out loud and the boy had some things to fix in his future, though she would most likely leave the berating to Rose. By the looks of it she was already building up some steam.
"You do know..." Rose suddenly turned to Jean. "You were there, weren't you? You know where they are heading! Come on, we can ask one of the officers for a ride or I can call a cab and we can still get there in time-" Rose grabbed Jean's arm and was basically pulling her out of the car, but Jean stayed in the seat, halting her movement.
"In time for what?" Jean asked calmly.
Rose frowned.
"To help them!"
"Didn't we already?"
Rose looked at her confused.
"Yes! And that's exactly why we need to follow them! They need our help!"
Jean shook her head.
"I think we would be more of a distraction this time... especially if they don't expect us there."
"But-"
"No. Lucien asked me to keep you out of harm's way. What happened at the station... it could've turned out so much worse. I don't think Matthew or Charlie would forgive me if I let you rush after them and get hurt."
Rose stared at her in utter disbelief.
"But... we came here!" she spluttered, suddenly unable to find the arguments. She looked betrayed, angry. Jean felt for her. She also felt something else. Worry about what they might find if they actually followed. The scene at the station was horrid enough, but they had no idea what trouble lay in wait for Matthew and Charlie. Last thing she wanted was to lead Rose to the asylum, only for her to see her uncle or ex-boyfriend hurt or dying.
She knew these were morbid thoughts, but she couldn't stop them. Not since she learned about where they were. The asylum... just the thought about that place made her skin crawl. She had visited it once after it was closed, on a dare with her friends on one moonlit night. Never again did she want to set foot in that place.
So she kept quiet and sat still.
Rose looked out through the front window to see that both ambulances were gone, even the fire brigade was packing things up, the fire dead, building secured.
She had no one to ask and even if she did... would she truly be more of a distraction than help?
Jean could see all of these thoughts playing across her face and she sympathized with her.
"What are we supposed to do then?" Rose asked after a moment, when she managed to unclench her jaw.
"Wait and pick up the pieces if needed," Jean replied.
"Oh, I will give them a piece of my mind!" Rose grumbled, leaning back in the seat. Jean could see her mind was already spinning, planning and she couldn't help but smile. Oh yes, Danny will be in for one good tongue lashing.