Recently discovered your RDB fic and I gotta say, I am truly loving it!!! If you are still asking for promots, could I suggest a short where Scott gets hurt in the line of duty and little brother Gordo comes to help him? Thanks!

It’s been an absolutely shitty double shift, and Gordon is ready to go the fuck home. It’s been busy, one thing after another, two cardiac arrest cases, a car crash, one diabetic seizure, one overheated baseball player, and for all Gordon knows, a goddamn partridge in a pear tree. He is done with today.

Unfortunately, he still has two hours until he’s free to go home, shower, crawl under his blanket, and not move for two days. It’s that thought that’s keeping him going. He’s almost done. He’s almost there.

Jesus Christ, is he tired.

He’s sat at a table inside the station, his partner Conrad next to him on one side and Virgil on the other. Virgil, the absolute bastard, just got here, and so looks as fresh as a daisy. The lucky fucker only has a single shift. Gordon wants to punch him.

They’ve just started eating when an alarm goes off. Gordon tries his best not to groan, he really does, but he’s being gestured to his wagon. He’s taken two bites, can the day just end already.

Conrad gives him a sympathetic look, but pulls his jacket on and hops up. Gordon gives his sandwich a longing look, but follows. Virgil’s up and towards his truck, as well, and the other ambulance in the station is also loading up.

“One of those calls, huh?” he says, climbing up. It’s Conrad’s turn to drive, and thank God. Gordon’s out of patience for driving today.

“Looks like,” Conrad says, flicking on the radio, and dispatch comes through. It’s not John, though Gordon knows he’s on shift, but he thinks he knows the voice anyway. Tedford, maybe?

“Shots fired, officer down, ambulance required.”

Gordon’s blood runs cold.

Logically, he knows there are plenty of cops in the general area. The odds of it being Scott are low and besides, Gordon’s not even totally sure Scott’s on duty. It’s fine. He’s fine.

Dispatch – it’s definitely Tedford – gives them a sitrep, but doesn’t mention the name of the officer, which isn’t unusual. Conrad sends him worried glances, but Gordon’s getting it under control. He’s a professional, he’s good at his job, he’s needed and he can keep it together.

They’re directed to where they’re needed immediately; they’ve beaten the other ambulance, if only by a few minutes, but first come, first served, and those minutes count. Gordon takes a deep breath and steadies himself.

It’s easy enough to find the injured officer – there’s a crowd. They split to let Gordon and Conrad through without prompting, and honestly, Gordon’s not even a bit surprised when he see Scott, on the ground, bleeding.

Kayo’s kneeling next to him, putting pressure on Scott’s side, the cloth that she’s pushing against it soaking through with blood. She looks up at them as they get there, and while she looks mostly calm, there’s terror in her eyes. Gordon can’t exactly blame her.

“He got shot,” she says, rather unnecessarily. “I think it went through, but I didn’t – we didn’t want to move him too much.”

“Good call,” Gordon says, leaning forward. Scott’s eyes track him, so he’s clearly conscious, and he grimaces.

“Hi, Gordon,” he says, sounding like he’s talking through clenched teeth.

“Heya, Scooter,” Gordon says, reaching down to take his pulse. Conrad’s taking over from Kayo. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough shit to deal with lately?”

He’s not serious, and Scott seems to get that. “Sorry. S’not so much fun on this side, either.”

“Probably not,” Gordon agrees.

Scott gets less and less coherent as they work, but he’s still responsive as Gordon and Conrad get him on the ambulance. Kayo’s been pulled aside to give a statement. Conrad, probably against his better judgement, climbs up to drive, so Gordon’s in the back with Scott, who clearly does not want to be awake anymore and is making his irritation known.

“‘M fine,” Scott complains.

“You literally have a bullet hole in you,” Gordon says flatly. “Shut the hell up, or I will sedate you, don’t fucking think I won’t.”

“S’not professional,” Scott says, his eyes slipping closed.

“Come on, Scotty, stay awake,” Gordon says, glancing up at Conrad. He’s clearly focused on the road, so he looks back down at Scott. “Hey, no, Scott, stay awake.”

Scott mumbles something unintelligible, and it takes all of Gordon’s will to not start losing it there. He’s done this before, this isn’t the first time one of his brothers has been here, and he can and will keep it together. Scott’s life literally depends on it.

He continues trying to keep Scott awake, even as Scott stops responding, and continues working, mentally distancing himself as he does. This is just another patient, another routine job in a city as dangerous as theirs. It’s not even the first bullet wound this week.

Gordon doesn’t know how long it takes them to get to the hospital, but suddenly they’re there, and he’s catching up the ER nurses on Scott’s condition, and then Scott’s being wheeled away, through the doors. Somehow Gordon ends up back in the ambulance, in the seat next to Conrad, and he doesn’t remember getting there.

“Fuck,” he says, staring at the back of the car in front of them.

“That’s one word for it,” Conrad agrees.

John’s of the opinion that the last call of the night is always the worst one, and goddamn if today didn’t prove that.

Officer down. John hates those words. It’s not the first time it’s happened, and technically it wasn’t his call, but those words tend to stop the entire room. It’s hard, knowing one of their own is injured. They all know most of the officers, even if they haven’t met them in person, and the worst part is no one actually knows which officer got hit.

John’s off-shift before Ned’s confirmed the officer’s en route to the hospital, and of course it’s Gordon’s ambulance that got the call. As soon as he hears the officer is at the hospital, he pulls his phone out and calls Gordon.

And immediately curses, because Gordon doesn’t have his phone on him. He’s still working. He’s not supposed to.

He doesn’t bother trying Virgil, because he’s still on shift, too. Alan and Grandma won’t know anything; same with Penny. He sighs and dials the other number he has in his phone, specifically for this reason.

Kayo does have her phone on her, and she answers after the first ring. “Hello?”

“Kayo,” he says.

“John,” Kayo says, and lets out a breath. “How do you know already?”

John’s stomach sinks. “It was Scott?”

“It was Scott,” Kayo confirms. She sounds shaky, not that John blames her. “It was an armed robbery that got out of hand, and he got shot. He was conscious when they took him, that’s all I know.”

“It was Gordon and Conrad?” John asks. He can tell he’s slipped back into his dispatch voice, his words clear and steady. If Kayo notices, she doesn’t say it.

“Yes,” she says. “I have to go give statements, I’ll head over to the hospital when I’m able. Keep me updated?”

“You got it,” John says, and hangs up. He forgoes the elevator and practically flies down the stairs, nearly tripping as he makes it outside and sprints for the bus. He just barely makes it and sits down immediately behind the bus driver, working to catch his breath.

He sends a quick text to both Alan and Penny, updating them. He promises to call as soon as he has more, and then sends the same to Virgil. He doesn’t know if Gordon went back to the station or not, and it doesn’t matter either way; he won’t have his phone.

The hospital is three stops from where he works, a good four stops before he usually gets off. He unfortunately knows its location on his bus route very well, and hates it. He hates hospitals. He really, really does.

John’s well-versed in the ways of talking to the receptionist, and isn’t surprised by the fact that she has no information. He thanks her anyway and sits down, preparing for the long wait.

Gordon finishes his shift in a sort of haze. He doesn’t end up seeing Virgil again, and he’s not even sure Virgil knows what happened. He and Conrad get dismissed just as another call comes in, and two other medics sprint for their ambulance. Gordon’s absolutely fine with that. He makes his way to his locker and changes, still feeling sort of hazy.

“Gordon?” Conrad says, obviously concerned. “Do you need a ride to the hospital?”

“Oh, God, yes, please,” Gordon says, ridiculously grateful. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle the bus ride now, and besides, this will be much quicker. He climbs into Conrad’s small car and stares out the window.

“You did everything you could,” Conrad says quietly as they pull up outside the hospital.

“Don’t,” Gordon says sharply. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” Conrad says. “Do you want me to come in, too?”

Gordon shakes his head. “Someone’s probably already here. Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem,” Conrad says. “Let me know what’s going on, okay?”

“Okay,” Gordon says, and closes the door. He waves at him as he walks into the hospital, feeling incredibly heavy.

He spots John immediately and heads over, dropping down next to John. “Double shifts fuckin’ suck.”

John snorts. “Nice to see you, too.”

“Sorry,” Gordon says. “Heard anything?”

“At this point, you know more than I do,” John says, tilting his head to look at Gordon. He frowns. “Have you eaten? Or slept?”

“Double shift,” Gordon repeats. “I tried to eat, right before that last call. Didn’t work out so well.”

“Come on,” John says, standing up. “We probably won’t hear anything for a while. Let’s get dinner in the cafeteria and you tell me what you know.”

“Okay,” Gordon says, letting John pull him to his feet. His brain has recognized the fact that he’s off-shift, and it’s making things difficult. He’s very tired and doesn’t want to keep moving. The sandwich that John buys him does not help matters.

John manages to get most of the story out of him, though Gordon’s not sure how much sense he’s making by the end of it. John seems to get it anyway. Once they’re back up in the waiting room, John tells him to get some sleep.

“‘Mkay,” Gordon says, and drops right off.

It’s hard to wake up. Scott’s immediately irritated by this, because logically, waking up should be easy. You just stop sleeping, open your eyes, and boom, you’re awake. Except his body seems to be missing the memo, because parts of him feel like they’re still asleep, but his brain wants to be awake. But his eyes are still closed. Or, he’s pretty sure they are. His brain feels like it’s full of cotton. What the hell.

There’s a bright orange blob in his vision and hey, look at that. His eyes are open. Cool. Progress.

It takes a moment, but his eyes realize he’s awake and start to focus and wow, the orange blob is his brother. Incredible.

What the fuck is going on?

Green eyes blink down at him, and Scott blinks back, and then brown eyes join the green eyes. Two brothers. Nice.

Something is definitely wrong with him. It’s an abstract thought, not really a cause for concern, but it’s definitely a thought.

Scott wants to close his eyes again. He feels floaty.

“Scott?”

“Hm?”

It’s the best he can do, honestly.

“Open your eyes again, Scott.”

“Mmmmmnope.”

He hears someone laugh, and that’s good. Laughing is good. Unless it’s not good. Is it good?

“Jesus Christ.”

“He’s high off his ass, John, I told you. It’s still better than you on any sort of painkiller.”

“You’re not much better than me, Gordon.”

“Yeah, well, Scott’s better than both of us, apparently.”

Goddamn right.

“See, he agrees with me.”

“I don’t think he meant to say that out loud.”

“Still counts.”

Scott forces his eyes open again. He still feels really weird and floaty, and he’s just decided he really does not want to be laying down on whatever it is he’s lying down on. He’s going to get up.

“No, you’re not.”

It comes from his left, and brown eyes, blond hair. Gordon.

“Yup, good job,” Gordon says, and pushes him back down. “You’re not moving. Don’t argue. Lay down.

“Don’ wanna lay down,” Scott complains. It’s not fair. Gordon’s being mean.

“Yeah, Gordon,” comes from his right, and Scott turns his head slowly to see John, who looks amused. Scott doesn’t know why he’s amused, but he grins, too, because John has a weird sense of humor, but Scott likes it anyway.

“Thanks, Scott,” John says. Scott blinks.

“Can you read my mind?” he asks, or he thinks he does. Words are hard right now.

“No,” John says, as Gordon snorts. “You’re saying most of what you’re thinking out loud.”

“Oh,” Scott says. “Okay.”

He puts his head back down on the pillow. He turns his head to see an IV stand, and blinks.

“‘M I in a hospital?” he asks.

“Yeah, Scott, you’re in a hospital,” Gordon says. “You got shot. You owe Kayo a cake or something, by the way, you scared the shit out of her.”

It takes Scott a bit to process that, but he turns his head back to look at Gordon and says, “Is she okay?”

“She’s not hurt,” Gordon says. “She’s ready to kick your ass, but she’s not hurt.”

“Tha’s good,” Scott says. “Why ‘m I floaty?”

“You got shot,” John says. “You’re on painkillers.”

Scott thinks about that, then nods. “Okay. ‘M I gonna be okay?”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Gordon says. “Maybe not after Grandma gets her hands on you, but you know.”

“She’s going to have to get in line,” John mumbles.

“Hey, I get first crack,” Gordon says. “I’m the one who had to deal with him on site.”

“I’m sorry,” Scott says, and Gordon shakes his head.

“Just don’t get shot again,” he says. “You fucking scared me, asshole.”

Scott feels bad. He wants to hug Gordon, but he’s not sure his limbs will cooperate to do that, and it’s already been made clear that he’s not allowed to move, so he lifts his arm and pats Gordon. He tries for his shoulder, but his aim’s a little off and he ends up patting Gordon’s head.

“Thank you,” he says, as seriously as he can manage. John snickers.

Gordon seems a little confused, but he pats Scott’s head too. “No problem, bro. Don’t make a habit of it.”

“Mmm,” Scott says. He yawns, and in turn sets off Gordon and John. He wants to laugh, but his brain has realized that he’s very tired. Sleeping sounds like a good idea. A very good idea.

He tries to say, “Good night,” but it comes out as a mumbled mess, and he’s too tired to try again. John and Gordon seem to get the idea, though, and they quiet down. Scott’s last thought before he falls asleep is that he’s glad the two of them are there, watching over him.

WOW HEY sorry about the radio silence. drdone here taking it from @akireyta and passing it onto @preludeinz

here’s what you missed on glee

Virgil slept like the dead.

It’s a well known fact that sleep is important in their family, given how busy they all are. Gordon knows Virgil hadn’t slept the night before, even after working a full shift and the dealing with all the shit that’s happened since. So Gordon’s glad he’s sleeping.

But by God is he bored.

He’s flipping through the channels on the TV for the sixth time, like somehow that’ll magically reveal something he’ll want to watch. His phone’s low on minutes and the internet sucks on it anyway. He doesn’t really want to leave Alan’s side, so he can’t really go talk to any of the staff, unless they come into the room.

And a lot of them do. Nurses come in and out of Alan’s room, checking his vitals and medicine. They’re busy, though, and barely acknowledge him. He doesn’t really blame them. A doctor comes in at one point and gives him the rundown.

Alan hasn’t woken up fully yet. He’s woken up a few times, but not enough to be coherent. The doctor says that’s normal, that he’s got a head injury and had to get surgery. He’s likely not going to be fully lucid until much later. Gordon knows all of this, but he doesn’t say anything. He just nods and thanks the doctor.

John’s texted him to let him know they’re alright and not to worry, which is a bold statement coming from John. Honestly, none of Gordon’s older brothers get to say that. He gets it, he does, but they’re all worrywarts and he won’t take that from any of them. He says as much to John, who ignores him. And so now Gordon’s lost his last bit of entertainment, because Penny’s not responding either.

So, as bored as he is, he notices when the routine is suddenly interrupted.

A male nurse comes into Alan’s hospital room, which isn’t that unusual. Gordon probably wouldn’t have questioned it at all if he wasn’t ten minutes early and holding a syringe. That’s bound to make anyone nervous.

“What’s that?” he asks.

The nurse freezes, like he hadn’t seen Gordon. Gordon’s definitely suspicious now, even as the man recovers and says, “Just a painkiller.”

Gordon frowns, but the man turns away anyway. As he moves closer to Alan, Gordon glances down at his shoes and feels his heart skip a beat. He’s seen a lot of weird things, but he’s never seen a nurse wear steel-toed boots before.

Oh, fuck.

He jumps to his feet and launches himself forward, yelling, “Virgil!” at the same time.

He hits the man solidly and knocks him off balance. The man thrusts his elbow back, but not before Gordon hits the syringe out of his hand. He feels a spike of triumph, even as his face explodes in pain and he falls backwards. He hits the chair he’d been sitting on with the back of his head, hard enough to be stunned.

He hears Virgil yell, and through watering eyes, sees him go for the man, too, hitting him and knocking him to the ground, just to the right of Gordon. There’s yelling outside the room now as the two roll.

Gordon scrambles upwards and tries to pull the man off of Virgil, but the man pushes him back, hard enough that he falls again and hits the ground. His head is aching now, but he’s pushing to get himself back up. The man pulls back his fist –

And it’s grabbed by someone else. He’s yanked bodily off of Virgil, to the ground, and a boot planted on his chest.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Gordon’s now lying on his side and squints up at the familiar voice. He knows that voice; it’s Dad’s old partner, Sergeant Lee Taylor, glaring around the room. Gordon’s never seen such a beautiful sight before and drops his head back on the ground, letting out a long, pained sigh of relief. “Thank fucking God.”

“Don’t think he’s got much to do with it,” Lee says. “And watch your language.”

Virgil lets out a slightly hysterical laugh. Gordon just mumbles, “Yes, sir.”

“Is anyone going to answer my question?” Lee says.

Gordon gestures towards the man. “He had a syringe. No nurse wears steel-toed boots. You do the math.”

His words come out a little garbled, likely due to the blood that’s literally gushing from his nose, but Lee’s face goes stony, so he got his point across. Gordon’s job is done. He pulls his shirt up over his nose and goes to pinch it, which is a mistake. A very painful mistake.

“Ow, motherfucking hell.”

“What did I just say about language?” Lee says, but the concern in his tone undermines the stern words.

“I think my nose is broken,” Gordon complains.

“Good thing we’re in a hospital, then,” Virgil says, kneeling down next to Gordon. He gently pokes at Gordon’s nose, which hurts like a bitch.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I do my best.”

Ayo @akireyta to me to @preludeinz

continuing from

”You look like shit,” is Gordon’s greeting to Virgil as he enters Alan’s hospital room.

“Still better than you,” Virgil says automatically, stretching as he stands. “Did you bring my charger?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Gordon says, pulling it out and tossing it. He raises an eyebrow when Virgil fumbles it, badly, and has to lean down to pick it up off the floor.

Virgil avoids his gaze as he moves to plug his phone in, feeling about ten times heavier than normal. He can still feel Gordon staring at him as he sits down on the chair on the far side of the room.

“Did you sleep?” Gordon finally asks, sounding like he already knows the answer.

Virgil shrugs. No, he hadn’t, because nurses had been coming in and out of the room and he didn’t want to sleep in case anything happened. He can almost hear Gordon rolling his eyes as he powers his phone back on, wincing at the twenty-seven missed calls. He hates not having his phone charged.

“You should go home,” Gordon says.

Virgil shakes his head. “I’m not leaving.”

“Well, Penny’s still with Grandma, and someone needs to relieve her,” Gordon points out. “And you need sleep. I’ll stay with Alan. You go home.”

“Wait, why’s Penny with Grandma?” Virgil says, caught off guard. “What about John?”

“What about him?” Gordon asks, picking up Alan’s charts. “He’s with Scott, isn’t he?”

“With Scott? Why is he with Scott?”

Gordon shrugs, flipping through the pages. “I don’t know, why are you asking me? You have your phone now, ask them yourself.”

Virgil watches as he frowns. “Are you supposed to be reading those?”

“No,” Gordon says without looking up.

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Did John or Scott say anything about where they were going?”

Gordon snorts. “You’re kidding, right? Do any of us actually talk anymore?”

Virgil winces, because it’s not like Gordon’s wrong. “I tracked down where Alan usually ends up last night.”

Gordon looks up at that. “You did?”

Virgil nods. “I found the garage. I found the guy who builds the cars. Scott’s rookie Kayo found us, and we came back here. Scott was supposed to take John home before going off and acting like a damn hero.”

“But instead he took John with him,” Gordon says. He sounds exhausted. “Robin to his Batman. Or the other way around, I’m never sure.”

Virgil can’t help but give a small smile. It feels weird on his face after the night they’ve all had. “Yeah, well, they’re both idiots.”

“Yeah, but so are the rest of us,” Gordon says, setting Alan’s charts down. “Seriously, bro, get some sleep, you look like you’re about to fall face first on the floor and I can’t promise I won’t laugh and take pictures for blackmail.”

Virgil glares at him, but he has to admit his body feels way too heavy. He leans back in the chair and closes his eyes, and almost immediately drops off to sleep.

from @akireyta to me and then on to @preludeinz

you spin me right round baby right round

Scott’s going to be in so much trouble if anyone at the station catches wind of this.

Brains, aka Dr. Hiram K Hackenbacker – an engineer, of all things – had barely let Scott introduce himself before agreeing to tell him everything. His only request was protection – not only for him, but for the others who were only doing this because of a debt owed to the Mechanic.

Alan included.

Brains is too smart to think Scott can guarantee that, but he takes Scott’s solemn promise as word of God, and with no small amount of guilt, runs down what he knows.

It’s so much worse than Scott had thought.

For one, the Mechanic’s a known entity already, though he’s never been more than a rumor. Scott’s heard the name thrown around the bullpen more than once, but he’d never put much thought into it. He’s not a detective, he’s patrol, and so most of this is above his pay-grade.

But they have a lead, a real lead, and a clear look into the crime empire that the Mechanic appears to have single-handedly built. The people he’s got working for him only do so out of fear, because the Mechanic has threatened them into obedience and if Brains is right, they aren’t empty threats. Everything Scott hears about this just makes him more curious about how exactly Alan got mixed up in this, but Brains doesn’t know the details.

“I’m just the guy b-b-building the cars,” Brains had said, shaking his head. The guy seems pretty honest. Scott wants to ask what the Mechanic has on him, but there will be time for that later.

Brains has been with the Mechanic for years and knows his moving routine inside out. It’s efficient and quick, and Scott’s impressed despite himself, but Brains can lead them to where the Mechanic is waiting. They can get him there.

“If he hasn’t already left, that is,” Brains says.

John shouldn’t be here. Scott knows that, but he’s here anyway, because Scott needs him to be. He’s on his phone, typing out a text, and he looks exhausted, but he’s here and Scott knows it’s probably selfish of him, but he’s glad.

“Who are you texting?” he asks.

“Gordon,” John says, not looking up. “I forgot to tell him Virgil’s okay earlier, and Virgil wants him to bring his charger.”

“Left here,” Brains says from the backseat.

“How’s Grandma?” Scott asks, taking a left. They’re going through downtown now, and they’re well outside of Scott’s usual patrol area. He’s going to be in so much trouble.

“I don’t know,” John says. “Penny says Gordon pretty much passed out as soon as he got home, and Grandma’s asleep too.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Scott says. “He looked pretty wrecked when I left earlier.”

“Another left,” Brains says. Scott turns onto a one-way and stops at the light. He barely knows this area. It makes him uneasy.

“Where are we going?” he asks, glancing at Brains in the rearview mirror.

Brains sighs tiredly. “We have to p-pack up shop every now and again. He had some others scope out some n-n-new places a while back. One was compromised, but this one wasn’t.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Brains,” Scott says, barely keeping his irritation out of his voice. Virgil’s words keep echoing in his head and he grits his teeth.

“There’s an old b-b-building down near an old mall,” Brains says. “It’s big and isolated enough. The Mechanic knows the guy who owns it.”

“What’s the address?” John asks curiously.

Brains doesn’t hesitate to give it to them. Scott doesn’t know it, but Kayo’s sharp intake of breath tells him she sure as hell does. That can’t be a good sign.

“Kayo?” he says.

“I know that address,” Kayo says, and her voice is low and angry. “I know who owns it, too.”

Scott almost doesn’t need her to say it, but she does anyway.

“It’s my uncle’s. It’s the Hood’s.”

continuing from here

drdone passing the gauntlet to @preludeinz!

Gordon’s so, so tired. He’s leaning against the wall outside the apartment, trying to talk himself into walking into it. Penny’s on the other side of the door, but so is Grandma, and he needs to pull himself together before he can go inside. He has to, for Grandma’s sake, but also for his own.

Grandma’s strong. She’s the strongest woman he’s ever known, and Gordon knows without a doubt that if he went in there falling apart, she’d try to hold him up. She shouldn’t have to. He can’t put that on her. She’s sick, and she’s in pain, and Gordon needs to be able to speak clearly and calmly. He needs to be able to tell her what’s happened without breaking down. He won’t hide it from her, he won’t lie to her. But she doesn’t need to be worried about him.

He takes a deep breath and pushes off the wall. He needs to just do this, because the longer he waits, the worse it’ll get.

Penny’s with Grandma in her room, a spread of cards between them. Neither of them are paying attention to the game anymore; they’re both staring at him. Penny’s face is apprehensive and cautious, and Grandma’s gaze is sharp, seeing more than he wants her to, like always. Gordon averts his own eyes.

“Gordon?” Penny says, and he lifts his eyes to meet hers. “You didn’t say much over the phone.”

Yeah, he hadn’t. He’d let them know Alan was in a car accident and stable, and that he was heading back to the apartment. He shakes his head.

“Alan’s okay,” he says. “Or, well, he will be. Probably. It was close, but he’s stable. John’s still with him.”

“What happened?” Grandma asks, and her tone indicates she’s not going to be deterred.

Gordon takes a breath. He can do this. He can hold it together, long enough to get through this, and make sure Grandma’s okay and not just pretending to be. He can.

“Alan’s been street racing,” he says, and doesn’t look at Grandma. He doesn’t want to see her face, doesn’t want to see the pain or anger Alan’s caused. “I don’t know why or for how long – Scott thinks there’s something else at play here. I don’t know. But there was an accident, someone took a corner too fast or something, and he went off-road, and took a bunch of cars with him, Alan included.”

Penny inhales sharply, and he can’t look at her anymore, either, and just looks down at the cards before continuing. Calm, clear, just a run down of his injuries. You can handle this, Gordon.

“He had to have surgery to take care of some internal bleeding. His shoulder’s dislocated, he’s got a few broken ribs, and some damage to his ribs. He’s probably got whiplash. He has a concussion, but he had a helmet on, and it -.”

His voice breaks, and damnit, he’s already done this. He’s already been through the ‘what-ifs’ and he’s already had to take a few moments outside the hospital to calm himself down, and he doesn’t need to do this again, right now, in front of Grandma and Penny. He’s a paramedic, damnit, he sees these things all the time. He can handle it.

He takes a steadying breath. “Yeah. He had a helmet on.”

“Thank God,” Grandma says, and Gordon almost falls apart right there. Her voice is steady, but there’s a definite note of worry in it. He hates this. He hates that this has happened.

“You said John’s at the hospital with him,” Penny says, her tone soothing. Gordon wants to bask in it, but he just nods, still staring at the cards. They’re starting to get blurry, and Gordon’s so frustrated with himself he’s going to scream.

“Yeah,” he says. “Scott had to go back to the station, he has to write up a report for the scene and all that. And Virgil -.”

Gordon has to stop, because as far as he’s heard, no one’s heard from Virgil. John had said he’d left to find Alan earlier, but that was hours ago, and given what’s happened to Alan, this radio silence from Virgil can’t be good. Gordon can’t push back the thought that something’s happened to Virgil, too.

He doesn’t want to worry Grandma further, but no doubt she already knows something’s up, as the pause goes on further, so he breathes through the worry. He’s not going to lie to her.

“I don’t know where Virgil is,” Gordon admits. “He’s not answering his phone.”

“Oh,” Penny says, almost like she hadn’t meant to. Gordon closes his eyes, because he’s too close to the edge. He’s way too close.

“Gordon,” Grandma says softly, and Gordon flinches.

He hears someone move, and seconds later, he’s being pulled into a hug. It’s Penny, he can tell, would know the scent of her shampoo anywhere, know the way her body fits against his.

And he breaks.