Jakes was early for work for once. His car had been booked into the garage at 7.45 am, so there was no point in returning to his flat after dropping it off. Upon getting to the duty room, the first thing that he noticed was that the door was ajar. Strange, he knew Morse was very meticulous about making sure it was locked on his way out – unless he hadn't gone home last night? Not the first time in recent days Jakes would have found Morse slumped over his desk, pale and pinched and smelling of yesterday's aftershave. Thinking no more of it, Jakes walked towards his desk. It took him a few moments to take in the form of his colleague spread-eagled on the floor. It took him a few more moments to comprehend what he was seeing.
He swore, and rushed over to kneel beside Morse's head. He and Morse never had and never would be the best of friends, but nevertheless, there was such a feeling of relief when he found a faint but steady pulse from Morse's neck. He picked up the phone from the desk next to him and punched in a number, spoke a few sharp words then put it down again. Upon closer inspection of Morse's inanimate form, he couldn't see any blood, but he wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing. All he knew from his brief first aid training was not to move him under any circumstances.
He heard smart footsteps, and looked up to see DeBryn entering the room carrying his medical bag.
"You called?" DeBryn enquired from the doorway.
"Over here Doctor, Morse is hurt." Jakes was trying to hide the flood of unwanted concern that he felt with that sentence.
"What do you… bloody hell!" DeBryn didn't even falter for a second as his training kicked in, and he automatically crouched down to check Morse's pulse.
"Pulse is faint but steady, but I don't like the colour of his face," Debryn voiced what Jakes had already noticed.
He gently lifted Morse's eyelids to check his pupils, and this seemed to be the magic touch. Morse groaned into life, his eyelids flickering then settling open, scrunched up against the sunlight streaming through the window.
"Wh..wai…huh?" Morse groaned, looking up at the doctor with eyes showing pain and confusion.
"Morse, it's me, DeBryn. Can you tell me what happened?"
Morse tried to sift back through his jumbled memories, and came up with nothing. The sunlight was intensifying his horrendous headache so Jakes, reading the look on his face, got up and pulled the blind across the window.
It was starting to come back to him now. Hearing a noise, speaking to strange, then realising too late that a cupboard door was open. Then a smack, pain like he had never felt before, and darkness.
"I… well… I think I heard a noise, was looking around, and someone must have clocked me from behind," Morse's face was screwed up with the effort of trying to remember.
"Can you remember anything about them? What they looked like, or what they were wearing?" Jakes' couldn't stop himself.
"I'm sorry Sergeant, but I must ask you not to question him in this state. Can't you see how serious this injury is?" DeBryn interjected, peering over his glasses at Jakes with stern eyes.
"Of course, just my automatic questions. Sorry Doctor." Jakes got up to go and sort out the outer duty room which was beginning to fill with people. He told all the officers who normally worked in the two duty rooms to find themselves a spare bit of desk elsewhere, and came back in closing the door to block out the noise.
Morse was trying to sit up but DeBryn was having none of it, and had his hand firmly on his shoulder holding him on the ground. He wrapped a spare blanket Jakes had produced over Morse's shivering figure, then very gently started palpitating Morse's neck and skull with his fingers, looking for any potential fractures.
"Can't find any breakages, but we should still get an x-ray done. He's going to need at least a few days rest in a hospital bed," DeBryn had to raise his voice to speak over Morse's protests.
Jakes looked the most smug Morse had ever seen him as he picked up the phone to call for an ambulance.
"Do you have any idea how long you were out for?" DeBryn enquired of Morse.
"Sorry doc, I forgot to ask the assailant to let me set my stopwatch before he smacked me."
DeBryn rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and Jakes sniggered, impressed at the sass his colleague could display even when heavily concussed.
"I think I remember a clock striking one just before I noticed the door open."
At this point, the door banged open, causing Morse to wince and bringing in an annoyed looking Thursday who was looking over his shoulder at the overcrowded duty room.
"Jakes, what in the name of every-" Thursday stopped dead, taking in the scene before him.
"Looks like someone broke in here last night Sir. Gave Morse here a right good clocking over the head with that paperweight. The doc here has had a look, so we're just waiting on the ambulance" Jakes had a cigarette in his hand and was doing a brilliant job of looking politely disinterested.
"Thank you Sergeant, I'll take over from here then. Perhaps you could go and do something about that ruckus next door?"
As Jakes left, Thursday came and knelt beside Morse, the fatherly instinct inside him taking control.
"Well lad, someone has done you over good and proper, haven't they?" Thursday was talking in his voice that instantly conveyed calm, and both he and the doctor had noted that Morse had visibly relaxed on Thursday's arrival.
DeBryn was glad of Thursday's arrival and the extra discipline it entailed – he was the only one whose authority Morse respected, which would make it much easier to get him to proper medical attention.
Momentarily free of DeBryns restraining hands, Morse sat bolt upright, his skin now positively green. Even with his lightning reactions, the pathologist only just managed to get a bin under Morse's mouth before the young officer retched and vomited noisily into it. It was at moments like this that the doctor was glad that concussion wasn't a condition he ever rally had to deal with in his line of work.
"Alright lad, its ok just get it up," Thursday put a hand behind Morse's shoulder to hold him up, and gently rubbed his back with the other.
"Sorry Sir," Morse gasped, re-emerging from the bucket looking a slightly healthier colour.
"No need to apologise Morse," Thursday said as he handed Morse his hanky to wipe his mouth.
Bright then appeared, showing the ambulance crew into the room. Thursday cursed inwardly, wishing that Bright could have remained in the dark about the incident until Morse was safely in hospital, but then there was no point in trying to hide anything from Bright's all reaching omniscience.
With DeBryns help, the ambulance men got Morse into a stretcher and wheeled him through the duty room and corridor which Jakes had somehow managed to completely empty. Thursday was surprised by the lack of complaint from Morse, but by this stage he was struggling to keep his heavy eyes open.
Bright followed them out to the carpark, then stood watching awkwardly as the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance. Seeing the look of panic on Morse's face when he was wheeled away into the vehicle, Thursday climbed up the steps into the ambulance to accompany his young colleague to the hospital.