What Friends Are For: "War on Terror," 05x04

He hadn't been lying, when he'd told Inspector Brackenreid that he'd never seen it coming. One moment, he'd been joking back and forth with Higgins; the next, there'd been a burst of flame and glass. The concussion wave hit him so hard, he didn't remember hitting the ground. He'd woken up being shaken by Worsley, the receiver for the call box still in his hand. Worsley was asking him something, but the ringing in his ears was so bad he couldn't hear him, just saw his lips moving. Something was trickling into his eye; he reached a hand up and it came away smeared red.

Worsley had propped him against the damn call box, which was still standing; George had no idea how. Everything hurt. He could barely move. When the inspector came over, he'd tried to stand, but Brackenreid had gently held him back with one hand, concern in his eyes. Because despite the gruff exterior, George knew, the inspector would go to hell and back to see his men were protected.

George tried to think back, remembering the events that had transpired. Stopping to make a quick call in to the station, Higgins….Higgins said something about his book- Henry!

"How's Henry?" he whispered, trying to see over the top of the inspector's shoulder. He saw the inspector glance behind him to look at….something, George couldn't see what.

"Right as rain," Inspector Brackenreid told him. But his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Henry… He needed to get to the bottom of this, to find out what the hell had just happened. "Sir, I need to assist Detective Murdoch-"

"Stay where you are, Crabtree," Inspector Brackenreid said. "Murdoch'll be fine." And you won't be of any help in your current condition anyway, bugalugs, was left unsaid. George wanted to argue with him, but he couldn't make his lips form the words. Instead, he felt Worsley helping him to his feet and walking with him to the ambulance carriage.

That was when he'd gotten his first look at Henry. His partner's face was ashen, his eyes closed. He'd never seen Henry so….so still before. Idle, yes, he'd seen him doing nothing at his desk before, it was almost a daily occurrence, but never doing nothing. It unnerved him. He couldn't take his eyes off his partner as they were driven to Toronto General.

The doctor had pronounced him fine. Fine didn't seem like a good word-he'd been knocked off his feet, slightly concussed, but the doctor said that the way he was leaning against the call box, the call box had probably taken most of the blast. A few days of restricted duty, and a lot of rest, and he would be right as rain in no time.

Right as rain…

The same could not be said for Henry. Henry had been the closest of the two of them to the blast and had suffered the brunt of it. They wouldn't let George see him, but George was told he was unconscious but didn't appear to have life-threatening injuries. The doctor had said that if Henry had been even inches closer, his prognosis wouldn't be nearly as positive.

Thank goodness for small favors, George supposed.

"It would benefit me greatly if I could accompany you on your investigation."

Had it been any other day, George would have leapt at the chance to have Dr. Grace accompany him anytime, anywhere. But all he could think about was Henry, lying in Toronto General. Had I not stopped for that phone call…something that probably could have waited until we returned to the station house, and now his friend was lying unconscious in a hospital bed…

"I am prepared to assume the risk."

Yes, George thought, but I am not. Not after today. "I'm sorry, Doctor. It would be irresponsible of me." He didn't miss the disappointment in her eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt in his stomach, but he stood by his decision. No one else was going to get hurt on his watch.

It was a relief to hear that the detective had spoken with Henry, albeit briefly. Surely if he'd woken up once, he would do it again, George reassured himself.

Henry Higgins was a sea of contradictions. George could not figure him out. They were friends. He wouldn't go so far as 'best' friends, because George felt a closer kinship to Detective Murdoch most days than he did Henry, but, they were indeed friends. It was why he so vehemently affirmed that fact to Angus Trout, to Dr. Grace when they'd passed off the explosion as part of just another day. Henry could have died. This was not something to be taken lightly! Just because it hadn't happened, didn't mean it couldn't have. And it was the unknown that bothered George. Just a few inches one way or the other...

Henry was a man George could rely on, albeit with a little prodding and persuasion. He was quick with a joke, the first to want to spend a night out as soon as they punched out. He wasn't afraid to tell you what he thought, a trait George both admired and abhorred about Henry. I wonder what he was about to say about my book before-

My book. George opened his desk drawer and retrieved a well-worn copy of The Curse of the Pharaohs. A quick stop in the Detective's office, and then he was on his way to the hospital. When he'd been unwell as a child (and growing up in the cold North Atlantic, that was often), his aunts had read aloud to him all the time. It passed the time, and it was comforting to hear a familiar voice.

And, George thought, sometimes, it was just nice to know someone else was there. He didn't know if Henry knew he was there as he picked a spot where the action picked up in the book and began reading aloud, earning him several raised eyebrows from the nursing staff. But George knew he was making an effort, and that mattered to him.

Henry Higgins was obnoxious, and on occasion lazy, and sometimes George wondered what on Earth he'd been drinking when he'd decided to become a constable.

But if their roles had been reversed, George knew, Henry would be pounding down doors along with Detective Murdoch to find the culprit. He'd go from one end of the province to the other to track down whoever had done this.

Because that's what friends did for each other.

So this was the least he could do. And when he finished the chapter, and stood to go, he was more determined than ever that when he returned to read the ending to an awake Henry, he could confidently say he'd done everything he'd done to bring the bomber to justice.

That's what Henry would do.

Author's Note: I love this episode. The George and Henry friendship is one of my favorite parts of the show-even if Henry Higgins drives me to drink most episodes ;) Props to Lachlan Murdoch, seriously. It would be fun to write a flip of this oneshot one time of Henry in "Up From the Ashes," when he thinks George is dead and their roles truly are reversed.