Eddie comes back to consciousness to with a muffled groan, keeping his eyes closed as he lifts a hand to brush over the painful lump on the crown of his head.
"He's waking up!" A muffled voice whispers.
He keeps his eyes closed as he begins mentally assessing his surroundings. The whispered words hold a note of… fear? The footsteps that shuffle around quickly are soft, muffled - not the sound that accompanies heavy boots on feet of enemy soldiers. As he listens, he can hear a quiet, high pitched whine in the background, the sound of a - child?
Okay. These are not the kind of sounds he would be hearing in the presence of hardened criminals or enemy combatants. As he slows his breathing, mouth moving around the numbers as always to bring his heart rate and breathing back under control, nobody moves toward him, no hands grab at him, seemingly willing to allow him time and space. So he uses it to think.
His hands haven't been bound, he hasn't been tied up, so this isn't immediately a dangerous situation. The whispered voice sounds feminine and scared. He has a feeling that this situation isn't what it seemed when he'd been jumped from behind, hit over the head with something, and dragged away. But still, it could be dangerous, and nobody knows where he is, Buck doesn't know - Wait. Lifeline.
With careful, slow movements, he lowers his hand from his head and lets it drop into his lap with the other hand. He brings his knees up to his chest, groaning as though in pain, resting his head forward against his knees as he does to sell the ruse.
"Jesus, Dom, how hard did you hit him?" The same voice from before whispers, and she sounds angry. "You weren't meant to-"
"I had to, Steph." A masculine voice this time answers, but he doesn't sound angry - if anything, the tone is regretful. "He started fighting the second we grabbed him."
Yeah, Eddie thinks bitterly, and if I wasn't so out of shape you would have been on your ass.
He groans again, just for a bit more time while his fingers walk along the back of his other hand, hidden between his stomach and knees and - yes, the band is still there, secured around his wrist. He wastes no time, tapping out the tap-tap tap-tap pattern on the face of the wristband that will send his vitals to Buck, that he knows will ease the man's fears even slightly. Then, making sure his sleeve covers the band again, he finally lifts his head and opens his eyes.
"What the hell…" He mutters with a frown as he takes in three people staring at him from a few feet away with apprehensive faces.
"Look-" His eyes swivel to the new voice, a man who approaches with his hands in the air, non-threatening. "We're sorry for - all of this. It's just - we need help."
"Okay," Eddie frowns back at the man. "Most people actually ask before knocking out a firefighter and dragging him away."
