The ride didn't take all that long, considering. Cunningham lead the way for a bit but the man seemed to get lost at one of the crossroads on the edges of the town, so Blake drove up in front of him and took over. He wasn't usually much of a fast driver, but he felt the need to reach the place as soon as possible. Something in his gut was telling him that time might be off essence and that his friends were still in danger.
He didn't know if it was his sixth sense or just the common one. After what Peter told them, he was trying to figure out what kind of danger may lay ahead. Logically, this was a trap. But was the trap set just to lure any possible cops out of town and keep them from the station? Or was the plan to kill them?
Blake didn't know and couldn't even guess, seeing as the perpetrators were ready to set the police station on fire, while there were several people inside. In view of that, killing a couple more cops didn't seem like such a preposterous idea. Blake hoped he was wrong.
So he found himself stepping on the gas more and more, ignoring Danny's paling complexion and the occasional thud the car gave as it ran over a rock or some other obstacle. He only slowed down when they turned onto the private road to the asylum. The road wasn't taken care of and he didn't want to risk crashing the car needlessly in his hurry. There was also the possibility that someone was lurking around, waiting.
He wondered if perhaps he should turn down the car lights, but realized the engine would be heard anyways. If there was any enemy, they would be warned of their approach already and they could use all the light there was to get a read on the situation.
He expected a lot of things as he pulled in front of the building. Seeing two police cars parked in front of it, without occupants or signs of struggle, wasn't one of them.
Blake and Danny shared a concerned look. Blake's hand moved to the weapon on his side, its weight offering surprisingly little comfort. Danny seemed to do the same, before he reached into the front compartment and pulled out a torch.
"Good idea," Blake said. "Ready to find our missing guys?"
"Sure. Let's save their assess, cause someone will need to deal with the mess at the station and it won't be me."
Blake cringed at the reminder of the station. He sure didn't want to be the one to explain it to Lawson.
They stepped out of the car, followed by Cunningham. The man caught up to them.
"Any news on the radio?" Danny asked in a hushed voice.
Cunningham shook his head.
"It's radio silence, until we find out what's going on here," Cunningham said and Blake nodded appreciatively.
"Good idea."
"Now then... where is everyone?"
He wasn't expecting a welcome banner but he thought there would be some sign of where they went. Though as long as there were no signs of blood or fight, Blake thought the situation still didn't have to be too bad.
"Well... this might explain why they didn't return home," Danny said with a grunt as the light of the torch passed the front wheel of one of the cars. It was slashed and out of air. A quick check of the other tires showed the same result.
Blake grimaced, shooting a nervous look towards their own cars. He couldn't see anyone around, but it was dark and chances were someone might be lurking in the bushes.
There was no movement, no sound, except of the usual sounds of night-time fauna.
While Cunningham was circling the car further up, Danny checking the tires and then the ground around the car, looking for blood or footprints, Blake decided to take a peek inside the car.
From the outside it looked like everything was intact, the cabin's empty. As soon as he opened the driver's door though... Blake let out a curse.
"And this explains why they went silent," he said, nodding at the smashed radio when Danny peered around his shoulder.
"Bloody hell!" He cursed. When Cunningham indicated that the other radio was smashed as well, Blake nodded at him to come closer.
"What now?" Danny asked, shooting an apprehensive look at the building looming in front of them. It was clear what they would have to do, but he had absolutely no desire to do it.
"We need to go inside," Blake voiced what neither of them wanted to hear.
"Yeah, but if we all go, what's to stop whomever did this to destroy our cars too and trap us here?"
Cunningham was right.
"One of us will need to stay here, guard the police car. If nothing else, we need to keep the radio working so we can call in help. I don't think radio silence is an issue anymore," Blake said and Cunningham and Danny exchanged a look. They realized what he didn't say out loud. If someone was staying behind, it had to be one of them. They couldn't in good conscience leave a civilian alone with a possible suspect roaming the premises.
"I'm sticking with the Doc," Danny said before Cunningham could offer that option. Cunningham shot him a glare.
"You realize I could just order you to stay behind, Parks? You're still out of jurisdiction."
Danny clenched his teeth, jutting out his chin in an 'I dare you!' sign.
Blake sighed then shook his head.
"I don't think we should argue right now. It's not like one job is better than the other. Whoever stays out here will be in equal danger."
That seemed to have smoothed some ruffled feathers at least and Cunningham relented.
"Alright. I'll call in our situation and see if Lewis can send out another car. Do you want an ambulance to come here as well Doc?"
Blake shook his head.
"We need to find out if it's safe first. Wouldn't do to have another hostage situation."
Cunningham couldn't argue with that.
"Alright. Try not to get killed, both of you. And if you need any help..."
"You'll hear the gunshots," Danny said with a smirk.
Cunningham rolled his eyes.
"Not what I wanted to hear."
Danny patted the man on the shoulder.
"Trust me, not something I want to hear either," Danny assured him. "Same goes for you though. If there's any danger... shoot."
"Or use the siren," Blake added. He'd rather not have to treat any unnecessary gunshot wounds.
"Right," Cunningham snorted and went back to his car. He settled inside for the moment, reaching for the radio. Danny and Blake turned towards the building and the unwelcoming front door.
"Shall we?" Danny asked thinly.
Blake grunted.
"After you, Danny," he said with some flourish, shooting one last look back towards the parked cars. He had a feeling someone was watching, but he couldn't see any movement. Hell, just the building itself was giving him the creeps.
Not wanting to dwell on the feeling, Blake caught up with Danny and together they reached the front door, wondering just what lay behind them.
His first reaction was utter disbelief.
"You must be bloody joking," Lawson muttered when he saw the familiar face of one Lucien Blake, closely followed by Parks. The two men stood in the door, blinking against the shine from Lawson's torch, which was pointed right at their faces.
"Matthew?" Blake spoke, shading his eyes and stepping to the side. Lawson noted his other hand was holding a gun. Danny had turned his own torch and it was now Lawson who had to look aside.
"You couldn't have arrived a few minutes earlier could you?" Lawson commented dryly, while he heard Bill next to him let out a nasty curse. Charlie seemed to let out a relieved breath. He had managed to get up on his knees and now sat on his hunches, scowling at the newcomers. Despite the sweat rolling down his face, it was clear he was relieved.
They all were, Lawson couldn't deny that. While he somehow managed to get both his men back up to the main floor, he had no idea what he would do next. Didn't have time to think about it.
Blake's arrival felt like a huge stone had fallen from his shoulders.
"Well, if we'd knew what a nice welcome we're about to get, we would've surely stepped on the gas," Blake noted sarcastically. He was already heading towards them, a frown marring his face as he took in their states.
"Any reason why you're all on the floor?" he asked even as he reached Bill. He was the only one not even attempting to stand up, face scrunched up in a grimace of pain. Or perhaps it was the string of soft curses being uttered under his breath every few seconds.
"A bit of a long story," Lawson waved off the question, shooting a look towards Charlie. The man was struggling back up to his feet, giving him a small nod as if to say he was fine. "Bill here could use your help though. He had a bit of a spill down the stairs."
"More like the bloody stairs fell on us," Bill grunted as Blake squatted down next to him, eyes already taking in the crudely made splint on his right leg.
"Falling stairs eh?" Blake glanced up at Matthew questioningly. Lawson shrugged.
"Falling stairs, slashed tires. The usual Friday evening."
"Oh well, it sure beats having to fight off a group of gangsters and saving the station from burning down," Danny commented offhandedly as he walked up to Charlie, giving him a quick once over and a smirk.
"Say what?" Lawson asked, blinking.
Blake rolled his eyes, shooting Danny a glare.
"That is a long story as well. Let's first take care of the injuries, shall we?"
Lawson gave a reluctant nod, though his face had turned into a deep frown. He watched as Blake checked out Bill, reaching his biggest problem, namely the broken leg.
Blake grimaced, slowly palpating the limb, muttering something under his nose while Bill kept biting down on his lips, hissing and grunting.
Lawson felt sorry for the man, knowing full well what a bitch a broken leg could be. His own was giving him unrelenting twitches of pain for the last hour and he knew that he would not be sleeping well tonight, if at all. But that could wait.
He turned back, hoping to catch sight of Davis. The man was unnaturally quiet. Lawson knew that if he was hurting, Davis must be hurting double. Most of the effort of pulling up Bill was on his shoulders after all. And that was after he had to drag himself up that blasted rope. If he had known that Blake was on the way, hell, he would've just waited.
At least help was there now. He saw Danny eyeing Charlie with some concern, standing just a tad closer than the other man might've preferred based on the scowl on his face. Or was that a grimace? Lawson didn't know, Danny kept swishing the torch all around and his own torch was aimed at Bill so Blake could do his job.
"So, what were you doing up here? Chasing ghosts?" Danny asked, loud enough that they all heard it.
Charlie didn't seem to be amused by the question, and Lawson wasn't either.
Bill growled then yelped as Blake had touched an especially painful spot.
"Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?" Bill sputtered, leaning over, trying to bat away Blake's hands.
Lawson turned his focus on him, squatting down and putting a hand on Bill's shoulder.
"Calm down, sergeant," he said in a commanding tone. "He's just trying to help."
"Yeah, where was he twenty minutes ago?" Bill grunted, shooting an angry and pained look at Blake, then spitting towards where Danny stood. "I'll give you fucking ghosts Parks, just come here!"
"Enough! Control yourself!" Lawson barked and Bill settled down, though he was still glaring daggers at everyone.
Charlie didn't say a word and Danny raised his hands in supplication.
"Whoa. Calm your horses. I was just joking."
"Well pardon us if we don't find it all that humorous," Lawson said with some sarcasm. Danny took a step back, for once closing his mouth.
Charlie just gave him a shake of a head to let it go.
Lawson turned back to Blake.
"What do you need Blake?" he asked in a no nonsense tone. Blake looked down at Bill, one of his hands wrapped around Bill's right wrist.
"Some painkillers for Bill, so we can move him outside. I need my bag, from the car," he looked up and towards Danny.
Danny nodded but before he could move, Charlie spoke up.
"I'll get it."
His tone was dull and Lawson felt some of the concern return.
Charlie must've seen that, because he gave a small shrug and a smile.
"I need some fresh air, Boss," he said and this time he sounded almost normal.
Lawson nodded, jaw tight.
"Go with him, Parks!" he barked still. "Whoever slashed our tires might be out there still. I don't want anyone left alone."
Danny nodded and followed Charlie out of the building. Lawson watched Charlie's steps, the slightly hunched over form but noted that he was walking straight and Parks was by his side.
Letting his concern for one man go, he focused his attention on Blake and Bill.
"Any other injuries I should know about?" Blake asked, looking at Bill questioningly.
Bill shook his head stubbornly.
"Bruises. And the bloody leg. I swear I'll kill whoever made this call," Bill grumbled.
"Oh well. Better not let you get to the station for a few days then," Blake noted with a smirk.
Lawson frowned.
"You keep mentioning that. What the hell happened there? And why didn't Peter send out a patrol car earlier? We were stuck here for hours!"
Blake raised his hand placatingly.
"I'm afraid Peter had his hands tied in this matter... quite literally," he said with a grimace.
Lawson blinked.
So it was true. This was a trap, only it wasn't aimed purely at them. The station...
"Fire... Parks said something about a fire? What's going on Blake?"
Any relief he had felt previously was gone, his heart attempting to jump out of his chest at the thought that his people were in danger; that his station might've been burned down...
"Easy. It's all sorted out now, no worries. Well, maybe some worry, as the main office is... a mess, but... good news is, no one died."
Lawson stared.
He wasn't sure what to say or do. His emotions had been running high for the last few hours and now that Blake was here and it seemed like their plight was over, he learned that it might've only been a start?
"Matthew... I'm serious. Things are being handled. The station is mostly in one piece and your people are alive. The perpetrators are in custody. So the main thing is to get Bill here to the hospital and then I'll explain everyth-" Blake didn't finish.
A sound of gunshot pierced the air, then silence. For a shocking moment no one moved, until someone shouted. There was yelping and cursing, slamming of a car door.
Lawson was back up on his feet before he even realized it.
"Bloody hell, what now?" he thought as he pushed open the heavy entrance door and stepped out into the chaos.
Charlie couldn't help it. He was annoyed.
After everything he had to do in the last few hours, and the rescue arrived literally minutes later. His first urge was to burst out laughing at the irony, but he knew it wouldn't be a happy laugh. Not when he had to fight down the pain and stop himself from complaining.
Even as he was heading out the door of the asylum, idly wondering why Danny's clothes looked damp and smelled of gasoline, his mind was going over things he wouldn't have needed to do if the men appeared just a bit earlier.
He could have just waited and been pulled up without having to break a sweat. Or the fear that his hands would give up and he would plummet down the hole, right on top of Bill. And the thing was, even after he made it up, he couldn't rest, couldn't let on how much he wished for sweet unconsciousness. He barely got a few minutes to catch his breath under Lawson's all seeing eyes before forcing himself back on his feet.
What used to be a twitch in his side had become an all encompassing feeling of tightness and throbbing pain. That was before he actually grasped at the rope with Bill.
At least he had learned his lesson from climbing up the rope. The material was coarse and bit into his flesh. Before he started pulling Bill up, Charlie looked around the hall. He noted an old sheet thrown over a statue. The material ripped up easily and he made himself an impromptu protection of already seared palms. He made sure to wrap his wrist just a bit tighter, feeling it throb relentlessly from his climb. Lawson at least gave him an appreciative look before imitating the process and using the rest of the sheet to wrap his own hands.
Then Bill's rather panicky voice came up to them and there was no time to waste. Charlie wished he could refuse, but he understood the fear. His skin crawled at the mere thought of being left alone in the dark down there. He didn't even have the history that Bill himself had with this place... or well, places like this.
So he pushed back the little voice in the back of his head telling him that perhaps doing something as strenuous wasn't in his best interest in this moment.
Charlie ignored it.
Of course, that hardly helped. Bill was maybe halfway up when Charlie pulled a bit sooner than Lawson... taking on a bigger weight.
He felt as if something inside him ripped open. He let out a gasp, barely audible because the pain essentially stole his breath.
Lawson still turned around and Bill stopped his ascent.
"Alright there Charlie?" Lawson asked worriedly.
Charlie swallowed down the whimper that threatened to break through and nodded.
He was glad the light was on the floor, pointing towards the elevator shaft and Lawson couldn't see the cold sweat that broke out on his face and neck. The darkness though meant he couldn't see him now either.
"Davis!" Lawson growled, waiting for an answer.
"Yeah. Just a sec," Charlie said after a second, feeling extremely proud he managed to make those few words without stuttering or whimpering.
While all he wanted was to lie down and curl up in a ball, he knew it wasn't an option. Not with Bill hanging midair. So he bit down on his tongue until the pain felt almost as real as the pain in his side.
"Ready," he said and on Lawson's signal, he pulled again.
He wasn't sure how he managed, but before the world could vanish in a swirl of stars, Bill was up on the floor. The weight suddenly gone, Charlie crashed to the floor, gasping for breath.
He did it. He didn't let his partner fall, he got him up. Just like promised.
Now if he only could stay lying down until help arrived, that would be swell. Perhaps in an hour or two, he would be ready to get up and actually try to walk towards the town, to fetch someone.
Satisfied that he did what he had to, Charlie rested his body on the dusty cold floor, while Lawson and Bill exchanged a relieved word or two.
His side gave a painful throb and Charlie bit down a muffled groan. He couldn't show weakness because they still had to figure a way out of this place. Would they go on foot? If so, someone needed to stay behind with Bill, which meant it would have to be Charlie who went. Even just the notion of the long walk made him weak.
'I just need a moment, nothing more,' Charlie tried to convince himself, so he repeated the thought in his head, until it became obsolete because Blake and Danny appeared, out of the blue.
Offering rescue.
Charlie didn't mind, of course. He was actually very relieved and happy, even though he didn't have the energy to show that. He would be lying though if he said it didn't irk him just a bit. The timing.
Charlie could absolutely sympathize with Bill's snappish behaviour, because holly hell, twenty bloody minutes! If Blake had been a bit faster, Charlie wouldn't have to be feeling as if something exploded inside him.
While Danny let slip some rather worrisome sounding comments Charlie couldn't really focus on that. He knew under different circumstances he would feel fear and panic. Someone attacked the station, someone lured them here...
A picture of the pale, lifeless body of Ned flashed before his eyes and he felt his stomach churn. When Blake asked for his bag, Charlie grasped at the chance.
He needed out, needed to get some air, even if just for a moment.
He wasn't all that happy that Danny was tagging along though.
Charlie liked Danny, they become fast pals in the last few months, but Danny's exuberant character could be challenging on most of days. He was chatty and happy go lucky and while Charlie usually felt upbeat by his presence, right now he didn't have the energy.
So he just focused on walking in a mostly straight line and keeping the pained grimaces off his face, while Danny started pestering him with questions.
Charlie gave him a few noncommittal grunts which caused Danny to pause and shoot him a look.
"You alright there mate?"
Charlie just nodded, managing to produce a grimace that meant to be reassuring.
"Yeah. Just... tired. What happened at the station?" he asked, hoping Danny didn't catch the slight hitch in his breath. Damn, but whatever muscle he pulled while lugging Bill was giving him grief. Charlie rubbed at his left shoulder which was now twitching in rhythm with his side.
Danny gave him one more look but Charlie knew he could hardly see anything in the measly light. Maybe he could've caught the whiff of sweat and dirt but Charlie knew the whole building smelled bad. He cringed at the thought of getting into a car under the circumstances. His clothes were covered in dust and grime and who knew what stuff from the bottom floor.
"No offense, but you guys look like you went through war," Danny noted as he opened the door and held it open for Charlie to proceed.
Charlie snorted.
"I wish," he grumbled quietly. "The station?" he said and Danny opened his mouth to hopefully give him some kind of explanation, when he froze.
Charlie frowned, looked at Danny and felt his hackles rise at the sudden change in the younger man's posture.
Danny's hand automatically went for the weapon at his side and Charlie's head swirled around, following Danny's eyes.
He saw a total of four cars, parked not so far from each other. Two were their own, the third also a police car and of course Blake's trusted Holden. One of the cars had its lights turned on, so Blake's car was in full light. However, that didn't offer any protection to the police car.
There, by the back tire on the passenger side, was a hunched figure.
For a second Charlie thought that the figure didn't notice them. It was still as a statue.
Charlie blinked. Perhaps he was mistaken? Perhaps it was just a shadow?
Everything was still for a precious second, and then the figure moved.
Danny pulled his weapon and without warning pulled the trigger.
Charlie jerked at the sudden sound so close to his ears.
The figure stumbled, falling backwards.
It took Charlie a surprisingly long moment to realize Danny didn't hit it. His weapon was aimed higher, just a warning shot.
"Police! Drop that!"
Charlie shook his head, tried to shake off the ringing in his ears as well as to get some sense of the situation. One moment Danny was standing next to him talking, the next he was rushing down the unkempt lawn, weapon aimed, and shouting orders at a dark masked figure. The man... Charlie was sure at least that it was a man, tried to scramble away, get back on his feet and run.
He might've even managed; as soon as he stumbled away from the car the dark clothes made him practically invisible in the night, at least from where Charlie stood.
But Danny wasn't alone.
Charlie recognized Cunningham, just as the man got out of the car and lunged himself after the masked figure.
There was a struggle, lots of cursing and grunts.
All Charlie could do was watch and even that seemed to be difficult.
Things were moving too fast.
Charlie knew he should react, that he should have followed Danny and tried to apprehend the man. He caught sight of a knife in his hands before he vanished from the light, knew he was dangerous.
Yet Charlie couldn't move.
He made a few steps to follow, but his legs felt heavy and his head was fuzzy. Being enveloped in darkness while several meters from him there was a fight gave Charlie a sensation unlike being trapped in a dream. Or a nightmare. One of those where you knew you should run to escape danger or to save a loved one, but your feet refused to move. One where all you could do was open your mouth in a silent scream and only watch and wait until whatever threat approached you and the nightmare ended.
That was how Charlie felt as he stumbled forward, slow and drunkenly.
He tried to remind himself that this wasn't a dream, that he was awake, just being absolutely useless.
In front of him three men struggled on the ground.
He could've reached them in just few steps, but those steps seemed insurmountable.
Cunningham got the upper hand and Danny sent the knife flying, rolling in the dirt far away. The masked figure was pinned down, still trying to fight but two trained men were kneeling on his legs, arms bent back painfully.
They had it under control, Charlie realized.
Good. That was good.
Because he seemed to lose all control of his own body.
Turning away, his only thought was now to get somewhere safe, somewhere away from searching eyes. His stomach gave a warning and Charlie knew what would follow. He spotted the car he drove here, hidden in blissful darkness. Maybe he could make it there. Maybe he could just sit down for a moment and get his bearing, without people firing weapons and fighting all around. He needed privacy and air... lots of it.
With half lidded eyes, he made it to the car just in time. Leaning heavily against the back door, Charlie tried to tune out everything. He needed to focus on breathing, on pushing back the urge to sick up. His side was throbbing, his ribs hurt and his stomach felt as if it was full of rotten water.
Charlie swallowed.
That thought didn't sit well.
An image flashed in front of his eyes. Rusty bathtubs, canvas sheets and restraints. The smell of rot hit him and without warning, Charlie felt everything rush up. He fell to his knees, heaving, and the world became just a dark whirlwind of pain.