Disclaimer - "Mystery Case Files" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Big Fish Games, Elephant Games, and Eipix Entertainment. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters. Original characters, however, are mine - please contact for permission before using. This includes Darnell as a defined, fleshed-out character in his own right.
Aftermath
by DragonDancer5150
Chapter 3 - Appearances
The ambulance arrived just then. Two paramedics gave him a cursory once-over before packing him into the back. He was thankful that they didn't make him lie on the gurney. And that they allowed Thomas to ride along - not that the officer and his badge gave them much choice. Arrival at the little community clinic was more awkward, as some of the staff on duty recognized him from his last trip. Darnell did his best to ignore the ill-concealed looks of judgment and reproof – the 'barking nutter' was back.
The doctor – Ashcraft according to his nametag – gave Darnell an arched look when he stepped into the exam room, closing the door behind him and giving Thomas only a cursory nod of greeting. "You're looking a little more…lucid…than you were a few days ago."
Darnell gave him a mirthless grin, a caustic tone edging his words. "Head injuries can do that to a person. I'm not delusional anymore, if that's what you're worried about." Not that he'd been delusional then, either – just talking far too freely about things he really needed not to – but easier to just let the doctor think he had been.
"Mm-hm." There was a clear 'I'll be the judge of that' in Dr. Ashcraft's tone and look, which only further aggravated Darnell, and the fatigue was doing nothing to help his mood or his ability to cope with the attitudes he kept getting. Rather than respond, though, he pressed his lips and kept his silence. As with the constable, arguing would just make things worse, and he hadn't the energy for it. A glance at Thomas told the detective that his friend was similarly holding his tongue for expediency's sake.
Dr. Ashcraft took Darnell's vitals, checked his eyes for signs of concussion, and cleaned the wounds on his face and head. He unwrapped the detective's left hand and forearm, checking the cuts and bruises, cleaning them, and rewrapped the limb in fresh bandaging. He caught up Darnell's right arm but stopped in shock at the sight of the burnt-away bandages around the stylized raven skull. Frowning, he looked up at Darnell. "What the bloody hell have you been up to?"
As he'd done with Thomas, Darnell yanked back his arm, hugging it to his hip, self-conscious and angry all over again. But he didn't get a chance to reply.
"That's classified, doctor." Thomas had stood at the question and was holding up his badge. "My name is Officer Thomas Blackwell with the Royal Security Service. The detective here is one of my agents. He was undercover when he was brought in last week." He grinned, though there was a hardness to it. "I'd say he fooled you pretty well to keep his cover from being blown, going so far as to let you send him to that damned asylum, even." He met the doctor's gaze steadily, then glanced at Darnell when the doctor turned. 'Go with it', the look said.
At the doctor's questioning expression, Darnell just offered a wry grin and a small shrug. "What can I say? I was desperate and got creative." If only he could pull off such 'creativity' when he actually had to. In reality, he'd make a terrible undercover agent – he lied about as effectively as a bowling ball bounced.
Dr. Ashcraft glanced between them but couldn't ignore the officer's badge and wisely dropped the subject with a shake of his head. The brand looked more like tooled leather than a burn – that should have been raw still for how fresh it was – but the doctor cleaned and put a healing salve on it anyway, and on the surgical site in Darnell's wrist and heel of his palm, then rewrapped the limb as he had the left. Two of the stitches in the heel had torn open, but there really wasn't much to be done about that unless he stabilized the hand completely.
"If there's nothing else . . . ?" Thomas looked as ready to be out of there as Darnell was.
Dr. Ashcraft looked at Darnell, glancing at the detective's right arm. "Unless there's anything else I should know about . . . "
Darnell covered the arm uneasily with his other hand. "No, doctor. Nothing more than minor aches and bruises." And a very demanding sense of fatigue.
The doctor nodded, turning to Thomas. "Then he'll be free to go as soon as the paperwork is completed."
"Good. The Royal Agency will handle payment of his medical expenses. Please have all invoices and a complete copy of his medical records sent here." Thomas handed over a business card out of his wallet.
Knowing his agent handler, Darnell figured Thomas would also be sending someone to lock or expunge his files – here and also at Manchester. He certainly hoped, anyway. He really didn't need all of this on his record. Especially the part about having been committed to a lunatic asylum.
Once cleared, Thomas phoned for a taxi, then let Darnell lean on him again as they left the clinic to meet their ride at the curb. He studied Darnell as they sat on a bench. "You look a mite knackered, mate." From the concern in his eyes, he knew how much of an understatement that was.
Darnell managed a weak grin. "If I fall over, just leave me. I'll wake back up in a year or two."
"I'll be sure to fetch you a blanket."
"I'd be much obliged."
The two fell into comfortable silence, Darnell finding it harder and harder to stay awake, until the taxi arrived. Thomas helped Darnell in, and merciful blackness took the detective before the taxi had pulled back out into traffic.
