It took all of Blaine’s strength to keep the man flattened against the wall, but he knew that he didn’t have much will left in his muscles to keep it up forever. Looking over for a second at Agent Gilbert, Blaine could see that the man was in no way able to do anything. The agent had slumped to the ground.
“Agent Gilbert!” Blaine exclaimed, ignoring the thick, wet laughter of the man pinned in front of him. The man’s bloodied teeth were in a stomach-twisting smile. Blaine’s anger flared--this evil, sonnuva bitch--and he yanked back the man’s arm in a fit of rage, causing a harsh shriek to echo in the alleyway.
A door banged open, and out popped a figure whom Blaine couldn’t be happier about seeing. Edgar Tomarron, the owner of Vines, peered in with an expression of shock that curdled and knotted up in a grimace. Edgar shouted, his eyes scanning the scene, before he lunged at the man himself.
“You sick fuck,” Edgar pushed Blaine aside, gripped at the man’s shoulders, and shoved him up the wall. Blaine stood to the side, gasping, and spotted that Agent Gilbert was out cold. Whatever drug Agent Gilbert was under, it was strong. Blaine rushed over, panic written in him, and frantically reached for a pulse on the man’s neck. The rain was bringing down now, making the hair on the other officer swathe down his forehead. Blaine washed it off to a side.
There was another bang that caused Blaine to pull his hands away from Agent Gilbert. Another patron of the bar peeked in, and to the unassuming man, Blaine yelled, “Call the police! Now!” The man nodded briskly and snuck back into the bar. Shaking it off, Blaine quickly mapped his hands over the Agent’s pulse points and let out a shaking exhale in relief when he found that the man was still alive.
Then Blaine heard a crunch and another howl of pain. He shot a glance over and saw that Agent Gilbert’s attacker from before now had a very misshapen arm. Alarmed, Blaine got to his feet. “Mr. Tomarron!” Blaine leaned over and grabbed the man’s wrist, and was pulled in with a swing. Blaine could feel the heated, vicious breaths escaping the bartender’s mouth.
“What.” Edgar spat out. Blaine noticed the man’s beard had flecks of blood mixing in with the rainwater. He looked feral.
Hiding the fear that was collapsing his lungs, Blaine stared back with an even gaze. “Don’t do it, Mr. Tomarron. You know about your record--and you owe it to me. Don’t do this.”
Edgar’s hackles were raised and his jaw clenched, showing his teeth. The tight fist that Blaine was holding onto shook with his unbridled fury. “My bar. Will never. Harbor. Rapists.” Blaine’s eyes drew up in a squint as he tried not to give into his emotion--he knew about Edgar’s past.
“I know, but this is not your bar. This is a public space. This is my jurisdiction.” Blaine slowly placed his other hand over Edgar Tomarron’s fist and gently lowered it. “I promise you, Mr. Tomarron, that I’ll personally make sure this--” Blaine darted his eyes over at the bloodied, unconscious, excuse for a human being, “--monster--is brought to justice.”
Edgar Tomarron considered for a moment and then snorted, shaking off his shoulders. “I’m not dealing with no cops but you, Blaine.” He turned away and put his hands over his hips.
“You should go clean off that sicko’s DNA off your hands. And um, it’s also a little in... there.” Blaine pointed to his chin and Edgar shrugged, passing by Blaine and heading into the bar.
When the ambulance came, Blaine was pulled into a security blanket (although he had refused profusely) and also forced into the ambulance to check up as well. There were a few bruises on his arms and chest, and a cut or two on his face and fingers, but he would be fine. It was the agent whom Blaine was worried about. The emergency respondents were stripping his shirt off and sticking this and that in him--it made Blaine’s head spin that he had to stare outside the window.
At 2 AM on a Monday, their party was admitted into the hospital. Blaine’s wounds were dressed by the nurse, who tutted at the young detective for getting into a scuffle. Dryly, Blaine pointed over at the man--who was identified as Rick Dermott by his medical files--and asked the nurse to check out the other guy.
Blaine really didn’t want to be stuck in bed, no matter how much the nurses tried to coax him to rest, and took a seat in the ward. He hated how Haven Falls Hospital didn’t have enough rooms, so a curtain separated Agent Gilbert from his attacker. Blaine didn’t dare close his eyes in case something happened.
He wouldn’t miss anything new, however. Just when things were getting quiet, a loud group of hastily uniformed officers came down the hallway, coupled with nurses begging them to come back in the morning. Blaine groaned, now feeling the pains of his wounds.
Commissioner DeLario was the first to step into the room and appraise the entire hospital ward with astonishment. A second later, he switched into his normal mood: anger. Pointing at the attacker, DeLario ordered his two tag-alongs to cuff him. Blaine tried not to roll his eyes as Pritchard and Keller, eyed Blaine up and down and shook their heads with a smirk. Of course it was Pritchard and Keller. Blaine put a hand over his hurting temples. Thank you, universe.
“I should have known it was you two!” DeLario’s ‘inside’ voice was not very ‘inside.’
Blaine put up both of his hands in an attempt to show he was willing to placate his superior, but DeLario interrupted with a point. “You, put your hands down. I’m real mad.” Sighing, Blaine placed his hands over on his lap . Pritchard and Keller sniggered as they yanked Rick onto his feet. At that moment, Blaine realized that Agent Gilbert was awake. Blaine smiled, knowing that the agent was safe. Thank you, universe.
DeLario’s hand fell on Blaine’s shoulder and Blaine winced as the Commissioner twisted him to get his attention. “You shouldn’t be here!” DeLario said, and Blaine dropped his eyes to the ground. He wasn’t up to apologizing for something he felt he had done right. DeLario could sense this too and let go of Blaine with a huff.
Then, something out of the ordinary happened. It was Agent Gilbert’s voice--actually praising Blaine. Blaine picked up his head and looked over his shoulder to see that the FBI agent was straightening himself up.
“Careful,” Blaine said to Agent Gilbert, “you might be still dizzy.”
“Still dizzy,” Pritchard cooed over to Keller. Both of them made disgusted noises. DeLario pointedly ignored them all, instead choosing to question his new target for venting his frustration... to unexpected answers.
Blaine felt himself blushing at the FBI’s agent’s frank response. Pritchard and Keller looked at each other with a grossed out “what” shared in between them. Commissioner DeLario was flabbergasted.
“Well, Agent. That’s too much information.” DeLario muttered, “I wouldn’t have guessed, but, whatever. What the hell happened.”
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