couple more ideas floating around in this head of mine.
This isn't me anymore Aka: the abducted and tortured and left with a life altering TBI + full amnesia fic. Why do I keep derailing Tim's life? *cuz it's fun*
Three days. That's how long it takes to find him, and when they do, it's not good. The cellar they find him in is cold -- cold enough that Raylan can see the moment his breath halts as he reaches the bottom of the steps and his eyes fall on Tim's limp form hanging by his wrists from a pair of handcuffs that have dug deeply into the skin.
"Tim? Jesus, Tim?" Raylan's inital shock is quickly replaced with concern because Tim isn't moving, might not even be breathing. There's blood -- a lot of it -- covering his bare arms and legs that seems to drip off his bare toes that hover just above the concrete floor, creating small puddle beneath him. His white undershirt is soaked and stained, both with blood and dirt, and his black boxers hang low on his hips, revealing bruising that disappears under the hem of his shirt.
Tim doesn't move or make a sound as Raylan reaches him.
His chin remains tucked against his left collar bone, but now Raylan can see a startling gash that stretches from his left eyebrow to his hairline that's blocked by the hair that is matted to his forehead. The blood from it cakes the left side of his face has soaked into the front of his t-shirt. The skin surrounding it is a deep shade a purple and it's swollen, but also, sunken.
It's a significant headwound.
Maybe a fracture.
Raylan reaches a shaky hand to press his fingers against Tim's bruised neck. His skin is cold -- too cold -- and damp, but beneath his finger tips, he feels the slightest flutter of a pulse.
He's alive.
Somehow.
The Past is Present Aka: a different amnesia fic of sorts.
Raylan can't get over the fact that Tim is even alive, let alone awake enough to answer questions. When JJ Higgins slammed the butt of his shotgun into the side of Tim's head, Raylan could have sworn he heard Tim's head crack open.
His bullet found Higgins seconds later, but not before Tim was sprawled face down on the tiled kitchen floor of the shitty trailer with a bump over his ear that compared to the size a baseball.
He hadn't woken up by the time the ambulance arrived or during the drive, but after an hour at the hospital, the doctor had found Raylan to bring him back to see Tim because had apparently woken up pretty confused.
Art's still a couple of hours away, so now Raylan is observing while the doctor goes through standard questions with Tim for the second time. He's got some bruising around his right temple, and the swelling over his ear doesn't appear to have gone down any.
But he's awake.
"Tell me your name again." The doctor instructs and Tim's eyes are squinting and they flick to Raylan before he responds.
"Tim Gutterson."
"Good. And do you recognize this man?" Raylan's eyebrows raise when Tim shakes his head slowly, wincing as he does. The doctor gives Raylan a nod -- he wasn't expecting Tim to remember him.
"He looks like a cop." Tim says and he winces sharply before his hand gingerly hovers over the bump on his head. "M'head hurts."
"Okay, that's okay. Tim, I want you to really think about this next question: do you know where you are?" Tim appears to think about it before he gives a slight shrug with his right shoulder.
"The hospital," He answers and then adds, "in Indianapolis?" Raylan opens his mouth to correct him, but the doctor raises his hand, stopping him.
"And, Tim, just one more question: how old are you?" Tim's brow furrows a bit and his eyes blink tiredly.
"16."
Quarantine Aka: Raylan and Tim get exposed to the Pneumonic Plague because why not?
Things happen quickly after that.
Raylan loses sight of Tim as they're pulled forward towards the makeshift showers that hadn't been there a few minutes ago and then people in those hazmat suits are pulling his shirt over his head and grabbing at the fly of his jeans.
They're not gentle and they're not concerned about privacy.
He's shoved forward and met with a sharp blast of cold water that takes his breath away just as the same happens to Tim on his right. He steals a look at the younger deputy and his eyes land on the speckles of blood and spittle under Tim's right eye from where Spencer Wilson coughed directly into Tim's face just a few minutes before the hazmat team showed up.
Tim gives him a look just before the water sprays his face, washing the blood and spittle away. Raylan has a split second to pull in a breath before the hose is turned on his face.
The muffled voices of the hazmat team instruct them to change into the scrubs provided and they're fitted with K95 masks before they're loaded into the back of an ambulance, their hair still dripping.
