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.