Febuwhump Day 1: Head Wound

Scott hadn't waited long after Gordon and Virgil had left before he insisted John go and check on them both, promising that he'd call them the minute he heard anything. Gordon in a temper was not the easiest person to deal with, not that he thought Virgil would have any problems.

Truth be told, Scott needed a moment on his own to process everything. He was still on the floor, hands clasping the back of his head as he rested his forehead on his knees. He was focussing on breathing. Breathing. Focussing on his breathing meant he wasn't thinking of Alan and his injuries.

Oh god.

He needed to get out.

Struggling to his knees, Scott paused at the door. He'd told John he'd wait for the doctor but he needed to get out. Now. Before he had any further thoughts he was running through the corridors, dodging people and shouts and bursting out the main doors.

He kept running until he couldn't breathe, until his legs couldn't hold him up anymore and he sank to the ground under a tree. Once again he buried his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

When he reopened them something was…different.

Where was he? More importantly, why was he sitting under a tree? Trying to stand up was hard, his head spun and he felt a little nauseated. He even needed the tree to get upright. Scott paused before straightening up and lurching off.

People moved out of his way. Scott wasn't sure why, but he didn't dwell on it because he was Scott Tracy and people did sometimes move out of his way. He was even used to the whispering he could hear.

What he wasn't used to was being stopped by two cops.

'Excuse me, sir. Are you alright?'

Scott stared at the man. Was he alright? Of course he was! He supposed that he should say that out loud, but for some reason he couldn't work out how. So instead, he raised his hands in surrender.

Only for the cop to pull a gun.

There was a lot of shouting from the two men, but he couldn't work out what the hell they were saying. The screaming from people around him didn't help, and before he knew it he'd been tackled to the ground, dizziness and disorientation tripling in the process.

Winded – and frankly not a little shocked – Scott just lay there while his arms were pulled behind him and cuffed. He still couldn't work out what was being said, but he tried to be unresistant as he was dragged upright.

Unfortunately, the reorientation didn't help his nausea any, and neither man was impressed when Scott tried to double over as he threw up. They only paused moment before marching him across the small green and into their car.

They sat him down in the car, allowing him to perch on the seat and lean outwards, one watching him and the other on the radio. The cop with Scott crouched down before him, talking, and he tried, he really did try to understand but his head was swimming once more.

'Hey, hey! Don't zone out on me now. What's your name? Eh? You got any ID on you?'

Scott just stared at him, willing the words to make sense but getting nowhere.

'Marsh, tell the bus that our friend here has blown and uneven pupils, is unresponsive to questioning. Possible that he is under the influence. Sir? Sir – can you tell me where the blood on your hands came from? No?'

The man sighed and stood up. More words were said before the man was back in front of him.

'Ok, sir. A bus is on its way, so let's get you sat comfortably inside while we wait.'

The cop carefully put his hand on the top of Scott's head as he helped him sit in the car properly, and Scott gratefully rested his head on the seat in front and closed his eyes. He didn't react when the man stood up and cursed.

'Marsh, this guy is a victim! The blood is his own. Contact the bus and say we have a head wound. Probably a couple hours old, there's a mix of dried and fresh blood. Sir? Sir – you need to stay awake, sir. Sir!?'

They were the last words Scott heard as he passed out.

Virgil had kept firm hold of Gordon as they sat in the corridor while John sat opposite them. They sat there for what felt like a long time. Finally, Gordon stirred.

'I thought Scott would have called by now.'

John frowned and checked his watch. They had actually been sitting here for an hour, and it had been more than two since they had arrived. Just before Gordon had arrived the doctor had said there would be news shortly. He looked up into Gordon's still-angry face.

'I bet he's forgotten us in his rush to check Alan was alright. Another broken promise.'

There was a bitterness that was unusual in his sunshine brother, and John recognised that Gordon was struggling to cope with his partner in crime being out of action. He rubbed his jaw reflectively, but it was Virgil who made the move first.

Virgil stood, holding both hands out, hauled them to their feet and they made their way back to the room they had left Scott in.

When they got there they were in for a shock. Two shocks, and all three paled at the sight.

There was no Scott. Just his jacket on the chair where he had abandoned it along with his tie on his arrival.

There was a small blood splatter where Gordon had thrown his brother repeatedly against the wall. It slid down.

'Oh god, what have I done?'