Connor dashed across the room, a litany he barely registered still flowing from his mouth, "Jesus… Oh my God… Ryan? Ryan, please… Oh my God…"
Tom Ryan was sprawled on the bed. Not an uncommon position for a whore. But the pool of blood spreading steadily underneath him was something that every whore feared and none wished to see. Ever. Connor placed shaking fingers on Ryan's neck, nearly sobbing with relief as he felt the weak but steady thump of a pulse under his fingertips. He pulled his hand away, a low whine escaping him, all thoughts of Felicity Horsham fleeing his head, as he looked down and saw his hand covered in blood. Ryan's blood.
"Ryan…" the shaky word escaped him again, even as he fumbled through his pockets for his phone, quickly dialling 999.
He gave his location and the details, gently cupping a hand around Ryan's bloodied face. Then he hung up, quickly typing in the number for Stephen's phone, unwilling to leave Ryan, even for a minute. Stephen answered with a cranky greeting. Connor choked out some form of response, adrenalin fading and shock starting to kick in.
That was how Stephen and Nick found them both, not five minutes later. Ryan still sprawled, unconscious and bleeding, on the bed. Connor, hand still pressed against Ryan's bloodied cheek, on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, crying silently. Stephen froze in the doorway for a moment, much like Connor had, paling harshly as he saw a whore's worst nightmare brought to life.
Nick, on the other hand, rushed across the room to Connor, trying to pull him away from Ryan's too still form. Connor cried harder and pressed closer to Ryan, trying to shove Nick away. Nick placed his own fingers against Ryan's neck, heaving a sigh of relief as he too felt a pulse. He crouched down in front of Connor and spoke in a low, soothing voice.
"Did you call an ambulance, Connor?"
Connor nodded, finally turning big, dark eyes up to him, "Yeah," he croaked out, "Did that before I called Stephen."
"They're here!" Stephen's voice called from the hall.
Nick spoke quietly to Connor, "You're going to have to let go, let the paramedics do their job," he shushed the younger man as Connor let out a quiet noise of protest, "I know you love him, Connor, I know… But the paramedics need to do their job, then you'll have him back. Alright?"
This time when Nick tried to pull Connor away, Connor let him, a low protesting noise still escaping him as Nick helped him to his feet. Nick held the younger man against his chest, feeling Connor tremble against him and fighting to keep his own tremors under control. What had gone wrong? Ryan was normally so careful. He'd liked the look of the new client. Trusted him.
"In here," Stephen directed the paramedics through the door.
"Shit," one swore, looking at Ryan, then raising an incredulous eyebrow at the surrounds.
Connor let out a muffled noise into Nick's chest. Nick glared at the paramedic, who didn't look any older than Connor himself. The paramedic quickly backed down, moving over Ryan and checking him over with his partner. The older paramedic muttered something under his breath to the younger, making him look shamefaced and nod. The older paramedic felt around Ryan's head carefully, trying to find the source of the blood. He obviously found it, pressing gently and making Ryan's facial muscles twitch, a low moan escaping the unconscious man.
Connor's head whipped round from where he was still being held against Nick's chest, "Ryan?"
Another low moan answered him and Connor tried to start forward. Nick kept him held tight in his arms though, watching as the paramedics continued with their work. Nick, Stephen and Connor all watched anxiously as Ryan groaned once more, eyelids fluttering slightly. The older paramedic turned quickly, addressing all three men at once.
"What's his name? It might help him come round faster if we're talking to him."
"Ryan," they all answered at once, before Nick clarified, "Thomas Ryan, but he goes by Ryan."
"Right," the paramedic answered before turning back to him, "Ryan? Ryan, can you hear me?"
Ryan's eyelids fluttered again, and he mumbled. Connor tried again to go to him, but was yet again held in place by Nick. The younger man swore under his breath. Ryan mumbled some more, blinking blearily even as the paramedics tried to talk to him. Connor frowned, eyes filled with worry, craning his neck to try and see. The older paramedic glanced over at him.
"What's your name, mate?" he said kindly.
"Connor," he replied, slightly confused.
"Come here," he waved him over, "You try talkin' to him. He's responding to voices, but he might respond better if it's a voice he knows. And we can't move him til he's a bit more aware. Don't want him trying to fight us and hurting himself more, now."
Connor slipped out of Nick's arms and walked hesitantly over to the paramedic. The paramedic nodded the okay to him and Connor crouched down by Ryan. He reached a hand out to cup his face again, but stopped, clenching it into a fist by his side. Instead he rested his chin on his arms and started talking quietly.
"Ryan? Hey… it's me… it's Connor. Your Conn. Come on, mate, you need to wake up now," Connor kept talking, a soft litany filled with a calm he didn't feel.
Ryan groaned again, blinking dazed eyes a few times until they rested on Connor, "Conn?" he asked, voice a little slurred.
"Yeah…" Connor's eyes nearly filled with tears again, "Yeah mate, it's me. It's Conn. You were hurt, Ryan," he said softly, keeping his dark eyes locked with Ryan's bleary grey ones, "You need to go to hospital, alright?"
"Comin' too?" Ryan fumbled a shaky hand for Connor's own.
"Yeah…" Connor didn't even look up at the paramedics for permission, "I'm coming too," he reached out and curled his hand around Ryan's, biting his lip to stop his eyes filling with tears.
"We have to move him now," the older paramedic said kindly to Connor.
"Yeah… yeah…" Connor stood up, but was nearly pulled back down as Ryan kept hold of his hand, "Easy, easy…" he soothed, "Let them look after you, mate. I'll be comin' too, I promise. I promise," he said earnestly, locking eyes with Ryan until the other man loosened his grip on Connor's hand.
Stephen's voice rang out next, "No… Sir, Ma'am… You can't come in here!"
A stranger's voice followed, loud and obnoxious, "My daughter has an appointment with one of your… people… I can go wherever I bloody well…" his voice trailed off, "…like. What the bloody hell happened here?!"
Connor looked up as Stephen slid in front of a hefty, red-faced man and an uppity looking woman, "This is exactly why you can't come in here, sir! One of our people has been severely hurt by a client," Stephen managed to look incredibly disapproving, holding onto the moral high ground, even dressed in leather pants and boots that took two people to lace him into.
"Christ…" the red-faced man stammered, "That… that won't happen to my Felicity will it?"
Connor looked over, showing the man and woman his tear streaked face and bloodied hands, "Felicity Horsham?" he asked, voice slightly hoarse from crying and talking to Ryan.
"Yes… We're her parents. Who are you?" the red-faced man tried to take hold of the situation again.
"I'm Connor," he said quietly, "I was supposed to be with your daughter this evening. But, as you can see, circumstances have arisen," he bit on his bottom lip, "Per… perhaps if you'd like to come back another time? When I talked to Felicity she seemed like a nice girl, I don't want her to think I've run out on her."
The red-faced man frowned and opened his mouth to answer, but his wife elbowed him, making him cough and answered Connor, sympathy in her eyes, "Of course, dear. You go take care of your friend. We'll call back soon. Come along, Arthur," she turned and left, pulling her husband along in her wake.
Connor watched as Felicity Horsham's parents left, biting anxiously on his lip, "My client…" he looked down at his hands, then over at Stephen and Nick, "But… Ryan…" his eyes were pleading.
"You heard them, Connor," Nick's voice was gentle, "They said they'd come back another time. Go with Ryan, you promised you would."
Connor nodded, scrambling after the paramedics, catching up with them as they reached the car park. Ryan's grey eyes were a little clearer now. They looked relieved, lighting up a small amount when Connor skidded to a halt next to the gurney. Ryan tried to pull off the oxygen mask the paramedics had slid onto his face. Connor frowned at him, sliding it back on.
"Leave it, Ryan," Connor placed his hand over Ryan's, stopping him from reaching for the mask again, "You can still talk around it."
He stood back, letting the paramedics bump the gurney into the back of the ambulance. The younger paramedic caught the keys that were tossed his way and slid into the driver's seat. The older paramedic hopped nimbly into the back of the ambulance, holding out a hand to help Connor in as well. Connor squirmed his way around til he was sitting by Ryan's head.
Then he frowned again, "For heaven's sake, leave it," he sighed, grabbing Ryan's hand and curling his own around it as he spotted it inching towards the oxygen mask again, "You want to talk to me, you talk around the mask."
Ryan rolled his eyes at him, looking pale and weak, but far more alert, "Goin' to the hospital, yeah?" he asked.
Connor nodded, "Yeah, you got yourself a right nasty piece of work with that last guy."
He mentally cursed his words as Ryan's eyes shuttered for a moment, before the other man added, "Yeah. Least he didn't mess up my face, though, huh?"
The two were careful not to go into anymore detail with the paramedics in earshot. But Connor was determined, that as soon as Ryan was checked into a room, he would get him to talk. Well, Connor sighed, as he looked out the window and saw a pair of policemen waiting in the ambulance bay, as soon as the police had finished talking with him.
Stephen and Nick, meanwhile, stared around the room in dismay. The bed was ruined, blood, Ryan's blood, had oozed through the sheets and down into the mattress. All the bedding, including the pillows and throw cushions were ruined. The carpet was bloodstained. They might be able to clean it. Might not. This was going to cost him a fortune. Nick blanched, dropping his head into his hands.
He felt Stephen's hand on the back of his neck and unconsciously leant into it, "What is it?" he turned his head and found himself inches from Stephen's blue-green eyes.
"I just…" he gestured around the room, "I was lookin' at the room… thinkin' about how much it would cost to get it back to normal again… and it occurred to me that I shouldn't be thinkin' o' that. I should be thinkin' of Ryan," he shook his head, "I'm just like bloody Helen."
"No…" Stephen shook his head, "Helen would've thought of it exactly like that. An inconvenience that cost her some income for however long Ryan's out and wrecked one of her rooms."
"But…" Nick gestured between himself and the destroyed room.
"But you thought first and foremost about seeing to Ryan, then seeing to Connor, then making sure Connor wasn't out of a job by helping him see to his next client. Then and only then did you worry about the room and the costs. And considering Helen left you seventy-five grand in the shit," Stephen shot him a wry smile, "I think you're entitled."
Nick gave him a weak smile in return, then winced as he looked at the room again, "Christ… this is gonna cost at the very least four grand to do up again."
"Did Helen know about the emergency fund?" Stephen said quietly.
Nick blinked at him, "What emergency fund?"