Dr. Goodman walked out of the police station, hugging her arms to her body. John trailed behind her, wearing a similar solemn expression.
"We should have expected this," he said with a sigh.
"I know, but the police captain could have at least listened to us before calling us 'a bunch of washed-out history nerds.'" Dr. Goodman scowled harder.
"Yeah, but if Sam, a guy who LITERALLY works with history on a daily basis didn't believe us, then we shouldn't have been surprised that a normal person didn't believe us," John said with a sigh.
"How hard is it to believe, though!? Everyone knows that people used to be a lot more in touch with magic than nowadays. Haven't they made movies about ancient, powerful mages attacking large cities?"
"I think BECAUSE there are movies about it is what makes it unbelievable," John pointed out. Dr. Goodman huffed in aggravation.
"Well, now what?" she asked.
John sighed. "Look, it's late. Let's just head home and we can deal with this in the morning."
Dr. Goodman nodded and glanced up at the sunset-colored sky. All of this had taken a lot longer than she anticipated and it was already the end of the day. Notch knows what He had been doing all day. Gathering an army of mobs to attack the city? Committing homicides? Dr. Goodman didn't even want to guess.
"You're right. Goodnight, John. We can pick this back up in the morning." She gave him a small wave, and he waved back. They parted ways and went back to their own cars.
On her way back home, Dr. Goodman felt her mind wander. This whole situation was just… insane. Of all the people for this to happen to, why her? It just felt so surreal. Maybe this was all some kind of wild dream, and soon she would wake up back in her perfectly ordinary life. A perfect life where Herobrine didn't exist and he hadn't returned.
All of the sudden, a figure appeared in Dr. Goodman's headlights, snapping her back to reality. She screamed and slammed on her brakes. Everything in the car lurched forward from the sudden loss of momentum. A sickening THUMP echoed through the car, and then everything was still.
Dr. Goodman was shaking. She shut off the radio that had been droning in the background and frantically looked around, trying to see if the person had somehow managed to dodge the vehicle. There was no one around, though, and she had heard that thump. She had definitely hit something. Or someone.
"No no no no no no no…" she whispered, throwing off her seatbelt and leaping out of the car. A figure was lying motionless right in front of her bumper, and there was a significant dent in the front grille. She saw blood. "Oh no no no no no! I am so, so sorry! Here, I'll call an ambulance!" She reached for her phone, but then the figure groaned and looked up at her. Her heart fell out of her chest.
The figure had an unmistakable set of glowing white eyes.
He took one look at her, mumbled something she didn't understand, then slumped unconscious. Dr. Goodman put a hand over her mouth in shock and just stared at him. Of all the ways she thought this day could get worse, this was not one of them.
She did nothing for a full two minutes. Her body wouldn't even respond to her, all she could do was stare at the crumpled body in front of her. Her heart pounded in her ears and her hands shook uncontrollably. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening!
She had to tell someone. She needed help! Who could she tell, though!? No one believed her! Wait. John. Dr. Goodman dialed his number with trembling fingers and put the phone up to her ear. John answered almost immediately.
"What's up?" he asked. His upbeat tone was completely inappropriate for this situation, but of course he didn't know anything yet.
"J-J-John, I need you're help! I-I-I-I hit Him!" Dr. Goodman was almost hysterical at this point.
"What?"
"I hit Him! I-I-I ran Him over with m-my car!" she shrieked.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down. Who did you hit?"
"H-H-HIM! H-H-HEROBRINE!"
There was complete silence on the other end as John processed this. "No way. You mean you just ran him over with your car? On purpose?"
"No! I was driving home, then all of the sudden he was in f-front of me! I didn't mean to! I don't know what to do, I need your help!"
John said nothing for almost a full minute as he thought. "Is He hurt?"
"OF COURSE HE'S HURT! I JUST HIT HIM WITH A CAR GOING FORTY MILES AN HOUR!" Dr. Goodman shouted.
"Okay, okay. Calm down. Here's what we're going to do. Get Him in your car and just head back home. I'll meet you at your apartment and I'll bring duct tape. What's your address?"
"What the Nether are you going to do with duct tape!?" Dr. Goodman demanded.
"Look, we can't take him to a hospital, since we don't even know WHAT he is. We can't take him to the police, because they'll take him to the hospital, and if he wakes up and snaps, he may kill a bunch of doctors and police officers."
"So your solution is for him to kill us!?"
"No, no. He won't kill us, because we'll duct tape Him to something."
"JOHN THIS IS THE WORST PLAN I'VE EVER HEARD! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK DUCT TAPE WILL HOLD HIM!"
"Well, I don't know! I'm just trying to keep us and everyone else safe! Besides, you called me! You wanted my help, and I'm giving it!"
Dr. Goodman sighed and rubbed her face. "You're right, you're right. I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do. I'll meet you at my place, the apartment complex on 25th and Lincoln Avenue. Apartment 5-B. Bring the duct tape, we'll probably need it."
"Got it."
…
Twenty-five minutes later, Dr. Goodman and John stared down at Herobrine, who was still very much unconscious. He had been firmly duct taped to a chair and had some of his wounds haphazardly bandaged. Most of it was internal, though. John assumed he had a broken rib, but of course they didn't know for sure. They may have been doctors, but they knew nothing about medicine.
"What do we do now?" Dr. Goodman asked, her voice shaking.
"I… don't know. We'll just have to wait until he wakes up. Maybe if he doesn't try to kill us on sight, we could try and communicate with him," john replied with a shrug.
Dr. Goodman sighed and plopped down on the couch. "Thank you so much for your help, John. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you." She smiled at him, and he smiled back. "You can go home, if you want to. I can stay here with Him."
John shook his head. "No, I'm staying right here. I'm not leaving you alone with Him." He sat down on the couch next to her. They exchanged smiles again, then Dr. Goodman closed her eyes. She laid back, starting to drift off to sleep.
"Thank you," she whispered.
John carefully took her hand, and she didn't pull away. "You're welcome," he responded. Soon, her breathing slowed as she drifted off to sleep.