The Life on Mars Anonymous Pornfest
Please Note: I've declared the Pornfest over (as I can't be bothered to keep the prompt list up-to-date!) So any new prompts posted will be deleted. However, I do encourage you to post any anon fic in response to the existing prompts and comment on the lovely responses that we've already got
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For once in his life, Ray was first on the scene and on the ball. He'd already started in on the restraints around the Guv's wrists by the time Sam arrived, Chris and Annie in tow.
"Christ! What the hell happened?" Gene looked awful. Hovering somewhere close to unconsciousness, his skin had paled to the unhealthy hue of curdled milk, with pink blotches of irritation running across both arms and down his chest. He was soaked through with sweat, his hair sticking to him in dripping ringlets, his wrists rubbed raw from the cuffs, the irritation and the clammy film across his entire body. He clearly had more than a couple of cracked ribs, if the bruising at his side was any indication, and his breathing was shallow and erratic.
He was also stark-bollock naked, sporting an erection that looked hard enough to break wood, and was cuffed spread-eagled to a bed in a worryingly reminiscent scene.
Ray looked up from where he had the blade of a knife worrying between two links of the left cuff. "How the bloody hell should I know, I only just got 'ere. He doesn't look right, does he?"
No, he bloody well did not look right. Sam crawled over the bed, mindful not to jostle the Guv too much and kicking the soiled bedlinen out of the way, to get to the other side of the bed, in between the bed frame and the boarded-up window. The first priority was to get the Guv loose, obviously. Given the complete lack of medical training the ambulance men had, the most important thing was to get him up, into an ambulance and into a hospital as fast as humanly possible.
He tested the other cuff. Heavy metal; industrial strength. These looked to be more like padlocks for humans than any normal handcuffs. The bedframe had more chance of giving out than one of the links. Bloody fucking arse-wiping bollocks. He flicked a switchblade and got to work on it anyway. "Annie, check on the Guv's vital signs. Chris -" He glanced up. Chris had yet to close his mouth. "Get something to cover him up, would you?"
They got to helping. Chris took his jacket off and draped it over the Guv to cover his modesty and went outside to radio for an ambulance; Annie checked the Guv's pulse and breathing and poked gingerly at the bruising on his chest.
And found the needlemark, easy enough. "Sam? Have a look at this."
Sam moved gingerly across the bed, leaning over the Guv's body and propping himself up with one hand to get a better view of the needlemark.
"What is it?" Ray asked without pausing. He had one of the links turning a little, maybe a couple of millimetres; maybe a little more.
"It's a needlemark," Sam said slowly.
"And how the hell can you see a needlemark with all that mess, then?"
There was a short silence. Ray paused in his assault on the cuff chain, craning his neck to see what they were all looking at. "Oh. Right."
The needlemark was violently red against the papery skin at the Guv's throat, circled by a fat halo of swollen white skin, fat and angry as a wasp sting. The red blotches spread down from it, following first and most violently the lines of arteries running down the left, then across the torso to the heart.
As they watched, the Guv took a shallow, shaky breath. Half a dozen capillaries burst open below his left shoulder with the movement.
Annie swallowed thickly. "What on earth did they inject him with?"
Almost without volition, Sam's gaze wandered downwards to where Chris's jacket was doing a poor job of protecting the modesty of anyone in the room. "Oh, God," he whispered, horrified. "Oh, Christ."
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