Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; they belong to Shaftesbury, the CBC and Maureen Jennings.
Ambush: "Hell to Pay" 10x18
He's been unsettled since leaving the Star Room.
The pain from the lump on the back of his head has subsided, but is still there, a dull, aching reminder of his run-in with Davis and the cell bars. The back of his helmet is rubbing against it, giving him a constant reminder of it just when he thinks it's going to go away.
But there's something else. Something else in the back of his mind, as he, Higgins, and Jackson make their way at a clipped pace to the church on Yonge and Heath.
"You didn't see who left the note?" he asks Higgins as they jog up the steps. Perhaps it's because he's with his friends, or perhaps the pain from his head is dulling his senses, but he doesn't feel the need to conceal their movements. So what if Graham's goons follow them here? There's six fists and almost 30 years of experience between the three of them; surely they can handle whatever comes to pass. He'll do whatever it takes to protect Detective Murdoch, he's made that promise to himself more than once in the past 48 hours, and he knows Higgins and Jackson will do the same.
"No, why?" Higgins sounds annoyed. It's not the first time he's been questioned about the square piece of paper that had been tacked to the bulletin board just inside the front doors. There had been three words printed on it. Crabtree. Church. 11 p.m.
Higgins had immediately relayed the message to George, and the wheels had started to turn.
"It's from Detective Murdoch," George tells them in a low whisper. He misses the look exchanged between Higgins and Jackson.
"What's it say?" Jackson questions him.
"He needs our help."
And there it was. Say no more. Jackson nods determinedly, and the three of them move into the cavernous sanctuary. The sound of their boots echoes off the tile floor. Candles are lit near the altar, but they are the only light. The place was eerie the night before, when he met the detective, but now, a place where he should feel safe instead feels downright ominous.
It's the darkness that will save his life later tonight.
George holds up a hand and the three of them stop in the center of the aisle. George's eyes flicker from side to side, watching for Detective Murdoch to materialize out of the shadows on either side of the pews.
"You sure this is the place?" Higgins asks, his voice like a foghorn in the quiet.
"This is where we met last time," George says. His fingers clench around his night stick. He doesn't like this. Well, he hasn't liked any of this since the day they found out Murdoch had been found at the Windsor Hotel with Lydia Hall's body, truth be told. Where the hell is he?
"Well, then where is he, George?" Jackson voices George's thoughts.
"I don't know, Jackson." He's irritated, though not with Jackson or Higgins. He wonders if it's maybe from the visit from Graham, maybe it's the situation, he doesn't know. Something about the note…For one thing, the Detective never calls me 'Crabtree,' he thinks to himself. Fight or flight kicks in. George is suddenly alert. Something's not right.
In the moment, he hears footsteps coming from…somewhere. Left? Right? It's so dark in here that he could be straight in front of my nose and I wouldn't be able to tell. "Detective?" he chances in a low whisper.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows it's not Murdoch.
Davis.
George only has a moment to register the first shot, which pings off a brass candle holder, and ricochets out into the pews somewhere. Wood splinters shatter. His instincts kick in-the balcony. It came from-
A second shot. This one buries itself in his chest before he can move for cover. It lands home just below his collarbone. The force is enough to spin him around. His torch clatters to the floor.
And then he's falling. He lands flat on his back, agony exploding behind his eyes as he came to a grim conclusion.
The whole thing was a setup! The note had his name on it, it'd been meant for him.
And Jackson and Higgins had come along-oh, my Lord. Oh God. No!
He doesn't register Higgins's grunt of pain, or see his friend collapse to the aisle right next to him, because his chest is on fire and there's pinpricks of white in his peripheral vision.
He can't hear anything over the shots raining into the ground as whoever is shooting at them fires blindly into the darkness on their position.
So he doesn't hear Jackson as a shot from above finds its way into his stomach, doubling him over and sending the big man to the ground.
Another item in your long list of mistakes. Graham's words invade the haze of pain.
It's not the first time he's been shot, but tonight, tonight the pain is unbearable. Higgins. Jackson. Oh, God. It hurts.
George lets the darkness take him as gunfire echoes around him, drowning out his thoughts.
Author's Note: Since George is the one they've been following and harassing for the better part of the episode, it's my headcanon theory that Davis & Graham perceived him as the biggest threat. All the name calling and mind games are meant to throw George off his game, because for all of that, I think they're scared that he'll figure it all out.
And so they sent the note, meant for him alone, but...Jackson and Higgins, of course, being the men that they are, came with him.
I'm going to skip over George's time at the morgue getting patched up by Rebecca and Watts; if you'd like a great interpretation of that, I highly recommend, "Steady On" from GoodMorningMoon. It's all from Watts' POV and it's an excellent character study of Watts :)