Primeval fic: The Ripple Effect (1/2) - Dark!Fic
Title: The Ripple Effect - Part 1
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~3370 (out of ~7360)
Characters: Hilary Becker, James Lester, Jenny Lewis, Abby Maitland, Jess Parker, Danny Quinn, Connor Temple, OCs
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace.
A/N: Sequel to Payback. I've been working on this, off and on, for some time and have finally finished it. Thanks go to the wonderful Fred, Hound amongst Hounds, for the beta. Cheers m'dear.
Warnings: Dark!fic, angst, hurt/comfort, slash, mentions torture, non-con and pissing.
To Part 2
James slowly woke to a world of pain. He groaned as he carefully curled up on the floor, his arms clasping his knees tight to his chest. He was sweating profusely even as shivers wracked his body and every wheeze and cough brought up pink-tinged sputum. Every breath hurt.
A particularly harsh cough sent agony rippling through James' body and left him gasping. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. He screwed his eyes shut in pain and saw lights flash behind his tightly-clenched eyelids as he attempted to drag sufficient oxygen into his lungs.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity of struggling, James' breathing slowly eased as the muscle cramps passed. He drifted and no longer knew if he was awake or dreaming. He was content to lie there and let his mind wander, whether in dream or fevered reality, he no longer cared. It was far better than to think about the filthy conditions and the pain he was in.
James smiled slightly as he recalled his relief when Becker had informed him of Abby's and Connor's return from their extended break, although, his pleasure had been somewhat muted by the news that Quinn had not accompanied them home and was still lost somewhere in time.
Shivering on the floor as he still fought for every lungful of air, James found himself wondering if that had happened? If he had really hung up on Becker with a sober expression and a warm feeling inside or whether he'd only dreamt of how it would - might - be when they returned? If he had dreamt it, why hadn't Quinn come back? Was his subconscious warning James to expect losses? More death at his door? Another failure to add to the minister’s reasons for losing faith in him? Another reason for Burton to control the ARC? To hurt... no, to punish him for his many failures? James just didn't know. Not any more. Everything had become too confusing and he hurt too much to even attempt to make sense of it all.
All James knew was he wanted it over.
He couldn't fight any more.
It hurt too much.
James couldn't stop himself whimpering or curling into a tighter ball as he heard footsteps approach his personal hell. Unsure if this was nightmare or horrid reality come to torture him, he began to shake uncontrollably as his heart stuttered in fear.
*BOOM!*
James was vaguely aware of shouts and gunfire. He bit off a sob at his mind tormenting him. He had dreamt of rescue so, so many times since his captivity had begun. His dreams had all ended the same way: as soon as James breathed the clean, fresh air of freedom, it was cruelly snatched from him as he was rudely awoken, usually by the rough hands of one of Burton's henchmen.
He smiled slightly as he remembered the first time he had been woken from such a dream. Recalling how, for a brief wonderful moment, he'd believed he really had escaped from the madman's clutches and he'd taken great pleasure in punching Burton and knocking him onto his arse. Even now, the memory of the black eye Burton had sported made James smile. Of course, Burton had punished him for that act of defiance, which had not been so enjoyable. It had been the first time Burton had raped him, and the only time Burton had ordered his henchmen to use him. The unrelenting pain as they had... James convulsively swallowed as nausea rose in his gorge at that memory.
The shouts and gunfire faded, leaving James drifting as he waited for the inevitable and brutal awakening to his torturous existence. He knew he must still be dreaming as he could have sworn he heard Quinn's voice and Quinn was lost in the past - or was it the future? But the feel of a hand gently squeezing his arm felt so real as the ex-copper's voice sounded next to his ear, far softer than James could ever recall. “Hang on, guv. Just hang in there.” James shook his head and moaned softly at the nausea that action set off. He must be finally losing his mind. He had wondered how long he would remain sane at Burton's mercy. James gave a harsh near-laugh at that thought for Burton had shown him no mercy. The sound tore at his throat and set him coughing. He couldn't breathe. Gasping for air as his lungs refused to cooperate. James almost winced when the Quinn-ghost bellowed, much more as James remembered him. “Oi! Where's the bloody medic?”
***
Danny checked his weapon once more and took several deep breaths to settle himself. He just hoped that Connor's detective work had finally paid off and they were about to rescue Lester. He shook his head; he had never expected to make it back from the past to all of this. He had spent his long lonely days and nights dreaming of his return: to Lester's snark, Connor's babbling genius, Abby's common sense and concern, Becker's no-nonsense approach that made him so easy to wind-up, Sarah's...
Danny closed his eyes. So much had happened in that long 18 months. The ARC had changed so much. New people had joined... this Matt Anderson, for instance, who had set Danny's copper's nose twitching. There was much more to Anderson than met the eye and Danny had been all set on learning more. He hadn't, of course. Instead he'd been stunned to learn of Sarah's death and then too busy trying to solve Lester's kidnapping.
He had known exactly who was responsible for the latter when he had discovered the name of the man placed in charge of the ARC. He had quickly informed the rest of the team of his discovery of Burton's name in Helen's notes. It hadn't taken much to convince most of the team; Abby in particular seemed to dislike Burton. Connor, however, had been strangely reluctant to believe him in the beginning, even with Helen's notebook for proof.
Danny shook his head to clear it, there would be plenty of time for ruminations once Lester had been rescued. He glanced at the soldier - Reed, Danny remembered - who he had been partnered with and when the man nodded he was ready, Danny counted to three and kicked the door open. It really had been the only bit of police work he had liked.
Danny ducked inside, his gun and eyes sweeping the area for danger. He almost gagged at the scene that greeted him. The stench was almost overpowering - blood and sweat and piss and fear all rolled into one. His heart clenched as he noticed the naked body lying curled up on the floor. Bloodied and... He sighed in relief as he saw the shiver that ran through the man's form. He was alive! Looking at the man, Danny didn't think he'd seen a worse sight in all his years as a copper. He didn't want to believe that his guv'nor - a proud and arrogant man - could have been reduced to the mess lying before him. But in his heart, Danny knew it was Lester. He stepped towards him, knowing Lester needed to be removed from this festering hell-hole and taken somewhere safe. Protected and kept out of Burton's reach until Danny could get hold of that bastard and make him pay.
Danny spun around as a shot echoed inside the room, his own gun raised as he looked for a target. He quickly spied a man lying on the ground with half of his face missing and turned to face his companion with one eyebrow raised in question.
“He was going to shoot you, sir,” Reed answered Danny's unspoken question. He gave an audible swallow, obviously having just spotted the battered form on the floor. “Is that Lester?”
“I don't know. Whoever he is, he needs help.” Danny clicked his earpiece to transmit, “Jess, we need an ambulance asap and get the bloody medic down here.”
Reed spoke into his own earpiece. “Gates, get your arse down here.”
Danny cautiously approached the bloodied and battered man on the floor, he didn't want to scare him into hurting himself by trying to move. Danny gasped in a mixture of horror and relief when he recognised the man. “It's Lester.” Danny was only vaguely aware of Jess informing everyone as he dropped to his knees beside Lester. He swallowed hard as his eyes catalogued the damage... knowing that it went more than skin deep. He sought an undamaged area of skin before finally sighing as he gave up on that fruitless search and just gently squeezed Lester's arm. “Hang on, guv. Just hang in there.” Danny almost flinched at the sound Lester produced. It took him a moment to figure out it was an attempted at laughter. The coughs and the harsh, painful gasps that followed scared Danny as he realised Lester was struggling to breath. His breathing was far too shallow and Danny doubted Lester was getting enough oxygen from each painful sounding gasp. The fact that Lester's lips were bluish told Danny all he needed to know. He turned to bellow over his shoulder. “Oi! Where's the bloody medic?”
Danny didn't wait for an answer as he doubted Lester had the time to wait for the medic to arrive. He turned back to Lester and immediately put his first aid knowledge from his police days to use. He gently shook Lester's shoulder and spoke loudly and calmly to him, “Lester? James? Can you hear me?” He paused for a moment, but when Lester didn't respond, Danny gently eased him onto his back and hissed at the bruises and cuts that marred the pale skin of Lester's chest and abdomen. “Fuck!” He leaned in close and sighed, before gently tilting Lester's head back. “Come on, guv.”
Jess' voice over his earpiece startled Danny from his concentration. “How is he?”
Danny had forgotten he hadn't turned his earpiece off and was transmitting live to Jess and... probably to just Jess and the medic. Jess would keep the frequency free in case... no, Lester wasn't going to die on his watch.
“He can't breathe.” Danny half-muttered as he concentrated on Lester. “Jess, where's that bloody ambulance.” When Jess didn't reply, Danny repeated, “Jess?”
“Sorry.” Jess' voice came over the earpiece. “Stuck in traffic. There's been a crash and fire. They're trying to re-route.”
“Fuck!” Danny turned back to Reed. “Where's that bloody medic.”
“Here.” The medic ran in and dropped to his knees beside Lester and Danny. He quickly checked Lester's condition and turned to Danny, “Good job, sir.” He clicked his radio, “ETA on medevac?”
“At least ten minutes.” Jess replied.
The medic, Gates, swore and turned to his kit, pulling out a BVM kit and connecting it to Lester. Gates began to bag Lester, forcing air - oxygen, Danny realised when he spied the tank connected to the kit - into his lungs. Danny sat back on his heels as he allowed Gates to take over. He rested a hand gently on Lester's shoulder and suddenly the nakedness of his guv registered. Lester would hate people to see him like this and Danny turned to Reed. “See if you can find a blanket or something to cover him.”
Gates muttered, his attention fixed on Lester. “I've got an emergency blanket in my kit.”
“Great, get it.”
“Sir.” Gates' voice had Danny looking into the medic's eyes. “The blanket can wait. What I need you to do is bag him. Keep it nice and steady. In time with your own breathing. Can you do that for me, sir?”
Danny nodded and there was a moment of confusion as Gates tried to hand over the bagging to him, for a moment he thought he'd fucked it up but then Gates steadied the kit and Danny got his hands in the correct position. “Thanks,” he muttered to the medic before he swallowed as he knelt in God only knew what and concentrated on his task, keeping in time with his own breathing and finding that trying to keep his own breathing steady was bloody hard in the circumstances. He watched Gates, partly in an attempt to distract himself from his own breathing and partly out of a need to know Lester would be OK. He watched as Gates gently turned over one of Lester's arms and swiped it with an alcohol swab. Danny dropped his gaze when he realised Gates was going to stick a needle in Lester's arm, instead keeping his eyes on the bag as he worked it and concentrated on breathing steadily. He looked up startled and almost missed a beat when Gates swore.
“Keep bagging,” Gates snapped.
“Right. Sorry.” Danny returned to his task although he kept one eye on the medic as the man peered closely at Lester's arm. “What's wrong?”
“He's so fucking dehydrated I can't find a fucking vein. Fuck!” Gates gave up on Lester's arm and moved down to his thighs before moving to his groin. He swiped another alcohol wipe over Lester's skin, cleaning it of blood and other unidentifiable matter. “About fucking time.”
“Gates?” Danny was getting worried by the medic's actions.
“Found a vein, sir.”
Danny winced in sympathy when Gates finally managed to inserted an iv into Lester's groin and set a drip going before he looked up with a relieved smile.
“Good work, sir.” Gates murmured to Danny. “Reed, get over here and help me. Sir, I need you to continue bagging while Reed and I put Sir James into the recovery position, OK?”
“Shouldn't we move him?” Danny had to ask. It just wasn't right that Lester should remain lying in blood and piss.
Gates shook his head. “No, sir. I'd prefer not to move him any more than we have too.” He sighed softly as his visually checked Lester for injury. “Who knows what internal injuries he has... but the recovery position should help his breathing.”
A bit of shuffling and getting in each others way later saw Lester lying on his side and Danny crouched beside him. Gates nodded before shaking out a silver emergency blanket and tucking it around Lester as well as he could while being careful not to disconnect the iv.
Danny shook the feeling back into his fingers once Gates had taken over the BVM. He wiped his hands clean on his trousers before tapping his radio, “Jess? Where's the bloody ambulance?”
Jess' voice was crackly as it came over the earpiece. “On its way. ETA seven minutes.”
Danny swallowed as he realised it had been less than three minutes since Gates had arrived. Three minutes that had felt like a lifetime.
***
Abby shook with anger as she watched Lester being loaded into the ambulance. Bruises marred every visible inch of his skin and she could hear his harsh, painful breathing, even with the help of an oxygen mask and constant assistance from one of the paramedics. She didn't resist when Connor pulled her into a quick hug before pushing her towards the vehicle.
“Go with him, Abs.” Connor's voice was full of self-loathing and concern.
Abby tore her eyes from Lester's blanket covered form to meet Connor's devastated face. “Oh, Con. You didn't know what a sick, sadistic bastard Burton was. Don't blame yourself.”
“I...” Connor shook his head. “I'm sorry.”
“You didn't do this to Lester. You helped save him.” Abby nodded and dragged Connor towards the ambulance. “Danny, Con's coming with me to the hospital.”
Danny looked up, his expression murderous for a moment before he gave them a brittle smile. “I've called Jenny. She'll meet you there.”
***
Abby, Connor and Jenny spent several restless hours waiting for news from the operating theatre, keeping the rest of the ARC informed on Lester's condition when they could while being kept informed on the similar lack of progress in tracking down Burton.
As the waiting grew oppressive and the silence become one of incrimination and worry, Jenny took a closer look at her two colleagues before asking Abby to tell her about recent events at the ARC, about Burton and how he had clashed with Lester. Jenny's face grew more and more sober, fury building in her eyes, as she listened. Finally, when Abby's tale ended, Jenny nodded and rose, hugging first Abby and then a far too silent Connor. “I have a few phone calls to make.”
Abby nodded. “About Burton?”
“By the time I'm finished,” Jenny told her with a dangerous smile, “Burton will be persona non gratis, even with the minister.”
“How?” Abby began before shaking her head. “I don't think I want to know.” She squeezed Connor's hand. “I'll call if there is any news.”
Jenny nodded, and with one final look towards the doors through which Lester lay, turned on her heels and strolled purposefully away.
Abby smiled after her. “I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of Jenny.”
“She must hate me.” Connor's mumble was directed at the floor. “Everyone must hate me.”
“What?” Abby pulled Connor into a hug. “No, no one hates you, Con. Burton tricked you, we all know that.”
Connor wrapped his arms around her, his voice muffled by her shoulder, “It's my fault Lester's hurt, if only I'd listened to you, to Matt.”
“No. It is Burton's fault, no one else's.” Abby drew breath to try and convince Connor of that, but her words died unspoken when the doors opened and a doctor walked towards them, the serious look on his face drawing Abby and Connor to their feet, worry etched on their faces, afraid of what he would tell them.
***
Abby found it was a shock to see Lester, even though she'd seen him in the ambulance and had been told what to expect. He lay so still and pale beneath the sheet, surrounded by far too many medical instruments - the bleeps of the heart monitor and the steady whine of a respirator filled the room scared the hell out of her. Every visible inch of Lester's body was covered in cuts and bruises, including his face and he was sporting at least one black eye. Abby felt the horrible knowledge that the rest of his body would be similarly damaged sobering, especially when she saw the fingers of his left hand splintered together and that his right wrist was in a cast. The irrelevant thought that Lester would hate not being able to write almost had her smile, before she recalled that the doctors had not given Lester good odds. He was so badly injured that the next 24 hours were critical to his survival, yet alone recovery.
Abby swallowed and pulled Connor into a hug as he stared in horror at the mess Lester currently was. “It's not your fault, Con.” She smoothed a hand over his shuddering back, repeating those words softly in his ear as her gaze rested on Lester. If she ever got hold of Burton...
***
Lester let himself drift, content to allow the dream to continue. The soft sheet underneath him felt so good against his abused body. The light were now dimmed after he had cried out in fear. There had been a half-heard, half-remembered voice that apologised for taking so long. He let himself enjoy the dreams, knowing they were far better than the nightmares that always followed them. He could hear other voices talking, some he knew he should know. They were gentle and soft as they entreated him to return to them. He pulled back, back into the safety of the darkness. He wouldn't fall for that trick.
Burton would have to do better than that.
***
To Part 2
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~3370 (out of ~7360)
Characters: Hilary Becker, James Lester, Jenny Lewis, Abby Maitland, Jess Parker, Danny Quinn, Connor Temple, OCs
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace.
A/N: Sequel to Payback. I've been working on this, off and on, for some time and have finally finished it. Thanks go to the wonderful Fred, Hound amongst Hounds, for the beta. Cheers m'dear.
Warnings: Dark!fic, angst, hurt/comfort, slash, mentions torture, non-con and pissing.
To Part 2
James slowly woke to a world of pain. He groaned as he carefully curled up on the floor, his arms clasping his knees tight to his chest. He was sweating profusely even as shivers wracked his body and every wheeze and cough brought up pink-tinged sputum. Every breath hurt.
A particularly harsh cough sent agony rippling through James' body and left him gasping. He couldn't seem to catch his breath. He screwed his eyes shut in pain and saw lights flash behind his tightly-clenched eyelids as he attempted to drag sufficient oxygen into his lungs.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity of struggling, James' breathing slowly eased as the muscle cramps passed. He drifted and no longer knew if he was awake or dreaming. He was content to lie there and let his mind wander, whether in dream or fevered reality, he no longer cared. It was far better than to think about the filthy conditions and the pain he was in.
James smiled slightly as he recalled his relief when Becker had informed him of Abby's and Connor's return from their extended break, although, his pleasure had been somewhat muted by the news that Quinn had not accompanied them home and was still lost somewhere in time.
Shivering on the floor as he still fought for every lungful of air, James found himself wondering if that had happened? If he had really hung up on Becker with a sober expression and a warm feeling inside or whether he'd only dreamt of how it would - might - be when they returned? If he had dreamt it, why hadn't Quinn come back? Was his subconscious warning James to expect losses? More death at his door? Another failure to add to the minister’s reasons for losing faith in him? Another reason for Burton to control the ARC? To hurt... no, to punish him for his many failures? James just didn't know. Not any more. Everything had become too confusing and he hurt too much to even attempt to make sense of it all.
All James knew was he wanted it over.
He couldn't fight any more.
It hurt too much.
James couldn't stop himself whimpering or curling into a tighter ball as he heard footsteps approach his personal hell. Unsure if this was nightmare or horrid reality come to torture him, he began to shake uncontrollably as his heart stuttered in fear.
*BOOM!*
James was vaguely aware of shouts and gunfire. He bit off a sob at his mind tormenting him. He had dreamt of rescue so, so many times since his captivity had begun. His dreams had all ended the same way: as soon as James breathed the clean, fresh air of freedom, it was cruelly snatched from him as he was rudely awoken, usually by the rough hands of one of Burton's henchmen.
He smiled slightly as he remembered the first time he had been woken from such a dream. Recalling how, for a brief wonderful moment, he'd believed he really had escaped from the madman's clutches and he'd taken great pleasure in punching Burton and knocking him onto his arse. Even now, the memory of the black eye Burton had sported made James smile. Of course, Burton had punished him for that act of defiance, which had not been so enjoyable. It had been the first time Burton had raped him, and the only time Burton had ordered his henchmen to use him. The unrelenting pain as they had... James convulsively swallowed as nausea rose in his gorge at that memory.
The shouts and gunfire faded, leaving James drifting as he waited for the inevitable and brutal awakening to his torturous existence. He knew he must still be dreaming as he could have sworn he heard Quinn's voice and Quinn was lost in the past - or was it the future? But the feel of a hand gently squeezing his arm felt so real as the ex-copper's voice sounded next to his ear, far softer than James could ever recall. “Hang on, guv. Just hang in there.” James shook his head and moaned softly at the nausea that action set off. He must be finally losing his mind. He had wondered how long he would remain sane at Burton's mercy. James gave a harsh near-laugh at that thought for Burton had shown him no mercy. The sound tore at his throat and set him coughing. He couldn't breathe. Gasping for air as his lungs refused to cooperate. James almost winced when the Quinn-ghost bellowed, much more as James remembered him. “Oi! Where's the bloody medic?”
***
Danny checked his weapon once more and took several deep breaths to settle himself. He just hoped that Connor's detective work had finally paid off and they were about to rescue Lester. He shook his head; he had never expected to make it back from the past to all of this. He had spent his long lonely days and nights dreaming of his return: to Lester's snark, Connor's babbling genius, Abby's common sense and concern, Becker's no-nonsense approach that made him so easy to wind-up, Sarah's...
Danny closed his eyes. So much had happened in that long 18 months. The ARC had changed so much. New people had joined... this Matt Anderson, for instance, who had set Danny's copper's nose twitching. There was much more to Anderson than met the eye and Danny had been all set on learning more. He hadn't, of course. Instead he'd been stunned to learn of Sarah's death and then too busy trying to solve Lester's kidnapping.
He had known exactly who was responsible for the latter when he had discovered the name of the man placed in charge of the ARC. He had quickly informed the rest of the team of his discovery of Burton's name in Helen's notes. It hadn't taken much to convince most of the team; Abby in particular seemed to dislike Burton. Connor, however, had been strangely reluctant to believe him in the beginning, even with Helen's notebook for proof.
Danny shook his head to clear it, there would be plenty of time for ruminations once Lester had been rescued. He glanced at the soldier - Reed, Danny remembered - who he had been partnered with and when the man nodded he was ready, Danny counted to three and kicked the door open. It really had been the only bit of police work he had liked.
Danny ducked inside, his gun and eyes sweeping the area for danger. He almost gagged at the scene that greeted him. The stench was almost overpowering - blood and sweat and piss and fear all rolled into one. His heart clenched as he noticed the naked body lying curled up on the floor. Bloodied and... He sighed in relief as he saw the shiver that ran through the man's form. He was alive! Looking at the man, Danny didn't think he'd seen a worse sight in all his years as a copper. He didn't want to believe that his guv'nor - a proud and arrogant man - could have been reduced to the mess lying before him. But in his heart, Danny knew it was Lester. He stepped towards him, knowing Lester needed to be removed from this festering hell-hole and taken somewhere safe. Protected and kept out of Burton's reach until Danny could get hold of that bastard and make him pay.
Danny spun around as a shot echoed inside the room, his own gun raised as he looked for a target. He quickly spied a man lying on the ground with half of his face missing and turned to face his companion with one eyebrow raised in question.
“He was going to shoot you, sir,” Reed answered Danny's unspoken question. He gave an audible swallow, obviously having just spotted the battered form on the floor. “Is that Lester?”
“I don't know. Whoever he is, he needs help.” Danny clicked his earpiece to transmit, “Jess, we need an ambulance asap and get the bloody medic down here.”
Reed spoke into his own earpiece. “Gates, get your arse down here.”
Danny cautiously approached the bloodied and battered man on the floor, he didn't want to scare him into hurting himself by trying to move. Danny gasped in a mixture of horror and relief when he recognised the man. “It's Lester.” Danny was only vaguely aware of Jess informing everyone as he dropped to his knees beside Lester. He swallowed hard as his eyes catalogued the damage... knowing that it went more than skin deep. He sought an undamaged area of skin before finally sighing as he gave up on that fruitless search and just gently squeezed Lester's arm. “Hang on, guv. Just hang in there.” Danny almost flinched at the sound Lester produced. It took him a moment to figure out it was an attempted at laughter. The coughs and the harsh, painful gasps that followed scared Danny as he realised Lester was struggling to breath. His breathing was far too shallow and Danny doubted Lester was getting enough oxygen from each painful sounding gasp. The fact that Lester's lips were bluish told Danny all he needed to know. He turned to bellow over his shoulder. “Oi! Where's the bloody medic?”
Danny didn't wait for an answer as he doubted Lester had the time to wait for the medic to arrive. He turned back to Lester and immediately put his first aid knowledge from his police days to use. He gently shook Lester's shoulder and spoke loudly and calmly to him, “Lester? James? Can you hear me?” He paused for a moment, but when Lester didn't respond, Danny gently eased him onto his back and hissed at the bruises and cuts that marred the pale skin of Lester's chest and abdomen. “Fuck!” He leaned in close and sighed, before gently tilting Lester's head back. “Come on, guv.”
Jess' voice over his earpiece startled Danny from his concentration. “How is he?”
Danny had forgotten he hadn't turned his earpiece off and was transmitting live to Jess and... probably to just Jess and the medic. Jess would keep the frequency free in case... no, Lester wasn't going to die on his watch.
“He can't breathe.” Danny half-muttered as he concentrated on Lester. “Jess, where's that bloody ambulance.” When Jess didn't reply, Danny repeated, “Jess?”
“Sorry.” Jess' voice came over the earpiece. “Stuck in traffic. There's been a crash and fire. They're trying to re-route.”
“Fuck!” Danny turned back to Reed. “Where's that bloody medic.”
“Here.” The medic ran in and dropped to his knees beside Lester and Danny. He quickly checked Lester's condition and turned to Danny, “Good job, sir.” He clicked his radio, “ETA on medevac?”
“At least ten minutes.” Jess replied.
The medic, Gates, swore and turned to his kit, pulling out a BVM kit and connecting it to Lester. Gates began to bag Lester, forcing air - oxygen, Danny realised when he spied the tank connected to the kit - into his lungs. Danny sat back on his heels as he allowed Gates to take over. He rested a hand gently on Lester's shoulder and suddenly the nakedness of his guv registered. Lester would hate people to see him like this and Danny turned to Reed. “See if you can find a blanket or something to cover him.”
Gates muttered, his attention fixed on Lester. “I've got an emergency blanket in my kit.”
“Great, get it.”
“Sir.” Gates' voice had Danny looking into the medic's eyes. “The blanket can wait. What I need you to do is bag him. Keep it nice and steady. In time with your own breathing. Can you do that for me, sir?”
Danny nodded and there was a moment of confusion as Gates tried to hand over the bagging to him, for a moment he thought he'd fucked it up but then Gates steadied the kit and Danny got his hands in the correct position. “Thanks,” he muttered to the medic before he swallowed as he knelt in God only knew what and concentrated on his task, keeping in time with his own breathing and finding that trying to keep his own breathing steady was bloody hard in the circumstances. He watched Gates, partly in an attempt to distract himself from his own breathing and partly out of a need to know Lester would be OK. He watched as Gates gently turned over one of Lester's arms and swiped it with an alcohol swab. Danny dropped his gaze when he realised Gates was going to stick a needle in Lester's arm, instead keeping his eyes on the bag as he worked it and concentrated on breathing steadily. He looked up startled and almost missed a beat when Gates swore.
“Keep bagging,” Gates snapped.
“Right. Sorry.” Danny returned to his task although he kept one eye on the medic as the man peered closely at Lester's arm. “What's wrong?”
“He's so fucking dehydrated I can't find a fucking vein. Fuck!” Gates gave up on Lester's arm and moved down to his thighs before moving to his groin. He swiped another alcohol wipe over Lester's skin, cleaning it of blood and other unidentifiable matter. “About fucking time.”
“Gates?” Danny was getting worried by the medic's actions.
“Found a vein, sir.”
Danny winced in sympathy when Gates finally managed to inserted an iv into Lester's groin and set a drip going before he looked up with a relieved smile.
“Good work, sir.” Gates murmured to Danny. “Reed, get over here and help me. Sir, I need you to continue bagging while Reed and I put Sir James into the recovery position, OK?”
“Shouldn't we move him?” Danny had to ask. It just wasn't right that Lester should remain lying in blood and piss.
Gates shook his head. “No, sir. I'd prefer not to move him any more than we have too.” He sighed softly as his visually checked Lester for injury. “Who knows what internal injuries he has... but the recovery position should help his breathing.”
A bit of shuffling and getting in each others way later saw Lester lying on his side and Danny crouched beside him. Gates nodded before shaking out a silver emergency blanket and tucking it around Lester as well as he could while being careful not to disconnect the iv.
Danny shook the feeling back into his fingers once Gates had taken over the BVM. He wiped his hands clean on his trousers before tapping his radio, “Jess? Where's the bloody ambulance?”
Jess' voice was crackly as it came over the earpiece. “On its way. ETA seven minutes.”
Danny swallowed as he realised it had been less than three minutes since Gates had arrived. Three minutes that had felt like a lifetime.
***
Abby shook with anger as she watched Lester being loaded into the ambulance. Bruises marred every visible inch of his skin and she could hear his harsh, painful breathing, even with the help of an oxygen mask and constant assistance from one of the paramedics. She didn't resist when Connor pulled her into a quick hug before pushing her towards the vehicle.
“Go with him, Abs.” Connor's voice was full of self-loathing and concern.
Abby tore her eyes from Lester's blanket covered form to meet Connor's devastated face. “Oh, Con. You didn't know what a sick, sadistic bastard Burton was. Don't blame yourself.”
“I...” Connor shook his head. “I'm sorry.”
“You didn't do this to Lester. You helped save him.” Abby nodded and dragged Connor towards the ambulance. “Danny, Con's coming with me to the hospital.”
Danny looked up, his expression murderous for a moment before he gave them a brittle smile. “I've called Jenny. She'll meet you there.”
***
Abby, Connor and Jenny spent several restless hours waiting for news from the operating theatre, keeping the rest of the ARC informed on Lester's condition when they could while being kept informed on the similar lack of progress in tracking down Burton.
As the waiting grew oppressive and the silence become one of incrimination and worry, Jenny took a closer look at her two colleagues before asking Abby to tell her about recent events at the ARC, about Burton and how he had clashed with Lester. Jenny's face grew more and more sober, fury building in her eyes, as she listened. Finally, when Abby's tale ended, Jenny nodded and rose, hugging first Abby and then a far too silent Connor. “I have a few phone calls to make.”
Abby nodded. “About Burton?”
“By the time I'm finished,” Jenny told her with a dangerous smile, “Burton will be persona non gratis, even with the minister.”
“How?” Abby began before shaking her head. “I don't think I want to know.” She squeezed Connor's hand. “I'll call if there is any news.”
Jenny nodded, and with one final look towards the doors through which Lester lay, turned on her heels and strolled purposefully away.
Abby smiled after her. “I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of Jenny.”
“She must hate me.” Connor's mumble was directed at the floor. “Everyone must hate me.”
“What?” Abby pulled Connor into a hug. “No, no one hates you, Con. Burton tricked you, we all know that.”
Connor wrapped his arms around her, his voice muffled by her shoulder, “It's my fault Lester's hurt, if only I'd listened to you, to Matt.”
“No. It is Burton's fault, no one else's.” Abby drew breath to try and convince Connor of that, but her words died unspoken when the doors opened and a doctor walked towards them, the serious look on his face drawing Abby and Connor to their feet, worry etched on their faces, afraid of what he would tell them.
***
Abby found it was a shock to see Lester, even though she'd seen him in the ambulance and had been told what to expect. He lay so still and pale beneath the sheet, surrounded by far too many medical instruments - the bleeps of the heart monitor and the steady whine of a respirator filled the room scared the hell out of her. Every visible inch of Lester's body was covered in cuts and bruises, including his face and he was sporting at least one black eye. Abby felt the horrible knowledge that the rest of his body would be similarly damaged sobering, especially when she saw the fingers of his left hand splintered together and that his right wrist was in a cast. The irrelevant thought that Lester would hate not being able to write almost had her smile, before she recalled that the doctors had not given Lester good odds. He was so badly injured that the next 24 hours were critical to his survival, yet alone recovery.
Abby swallowed and pulled Connor into a hug as he stared in horror at the mess Lester currently was. “It's not your fault, Con.” She smoothed a hand over his shuddering back, repeating those words softly in his ear as her gaze rested on Lester. If she ever got hold of Burton...
***
Lester let himself drift, content to allow the dream to continue. The soft sheet underneath him felt so good against his abused body. The light were now dimmed after he had cried out in fear. There had been a half-heard, half-remembered voice that apologised for taking so long. He let himself enjoy the dreams, knowing they were far better than the nightmares that always followed them. He could hear other voices talking, some he knew he should know. They were gentle and soft as they entreated him to return to them. He pulled back, back into the safety of the darkness. He wouldn't fall for that trick.
Burton would have to do better than that.
***
To Part 2