Disclaimer: Not mine, they belong to Maureen Jennings, CBC and Shaftesbury (and I STILL can't spell that right on the first try!)

Author's Note: This one comes courtesy of Kiki's Fanfiction World; she was thinking maybe George's knock on the head by Cecil Fox in this episode wasn't just a simple knock to the head. And because I adore the Henry/George friendship dynamic...well, here you go ;)

A Friend In Need, A Friend Indeed: "Hangman," 03x11

Henry Higgins returned from his supper run and banged on the carriage door. "George?" he called, waiting a moment between knocks. There was no answer from within, and Henry shook his head. Likely he's fallen asleep and somehow I'll be the one blamed if things go awry… He gripped the door handle and pulled, thinking of all the ways he could pull a joke over on his friend if he truly was asleep on his watch.

His eyes widened. His partner was slumped over the bench seat, head resting on his arm, his lower body contorted on the floor of the carriage. His uniform jacket and trousers were missing, and, Henry could see from the light spilling in from the street lamp, there was a nasty bruise on George's head. "Oh, God. George?" Henry stepped over his partner and shook his shoulder, hard. "George!"

George Crabtree was acutely aware of someone calling his name, but it was so far away. He remembered light exploding behind his eyes, and then darkness. Now, as he came back to his senses, he realized it was Henry shaking him awake, and his head was killing him. He opened his eyes gingerly; the interior of the carriage swirled in his vision. His head felt heavy. "H-Henry?" he swallowed hard. Speaking made his stomach churn.

"George, what the hell happened?" Henry asked him, helping him to a sitting position up on the bench.

George blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. "I-I'm not…" He frowned. "Cecil Fox. I think it was Cecil Fox." He tried to stand, to get out of the carriage, but his legs didn't want to listen to his brain. His head dipped, and George felt Henry slip under his shoulder, steadying him. "Thanks."

"George, he took your uniform. I…here." Henry carefully helped George sit, leaning against the wall of the carriage, and unbuttoned his uniform jacket. "I'm not giving you my trousers," Henry warned him, "but this is better than nothing." He helped his partner into his jacket, then opened the door. "Come on," he said. "We've got to get you back to the station house."

"Murdoch's going to kill me," George mumbled as he awkwardly half stumbled, half fell from the carriage. His full weight landed on Henry and the other man groaned as he tried to keep George upright.

"You were taken by surprise," Henry grimaced, slipping George's arm over his shoulders. "That wasn't your fault."

"Got to…" George's knees buckled, and Henry shifted quickly to keep him standing.

"George, are you sure you're all right?" Henry frowned. "This seems like more than a bump on the head." They passed a street lamp, and Henry watched his partner clamp his eyes shut and give a short gasp of pain. "You're not all right. When we get to the station house, I'm telling Detective Murdoch-"

"No!" The pain in George's voice made Henry stop so short they both nearly fell over. George opened his eyes slowly, looked at Henry. "'m fine. I'm fine."

"George, you're not-"

"Just a knock on the head. I'm fine." He looked at Henry pleadingly. "Have a laugh about it, but don't tell the detective." He took a breath and held it, trying desperately not to retch all over his partner's boots. "Made a mistake," he whispered quietly, waiting for the nausea to subside. "Have to fix it."

Henry looked up and back at him. "Are you sure?" he asked finally.

George nodded. Stars exploded in his peripheral vision, but he grit his teeth as he said, "I'm fine."

Henry shook his head. "You know, if it was me, I'd play up this for all it's worth so I'd get to go home early," he told his partner.

George coughed out a laugh. "You…not that good an actor, Henry," he breathed. "Good friend, though. You're a good friend."

Henry rolled his eyes. "Keep your voice down," he told him. "Or I'll knock you out myself. I've got an image to uphold." The corner of his mouth twitched, and he saw George's do the same, before his partner dropped to the ground and threw up on Henry's boots.

Henry forced himself to stay put. Good friend, indeed.