He frowned. It wasn’t like Tai to ignore him, and he'd not left them - he would have told them if he had. He'd only wanted a form signed for school, only wanted to be away from his laptop for a few minutes, not chasing his dad around the house. Levi made his way to the bedroom, knocking before he pushed the door open. Even mad he still had manners.
He sighed. No sign of Tai there either. He almost left, turning back into the room with a frown. They never left the lights on, Harrison was always on at them for it, so for the bathroom light and fan to be on, it didn't make sense.
"Dad?" Worry curled in his stomach, only growing as he got no response. "Dad?"
The bathroom door was open, but there was nothing from his dad. Surely he'd heard him if he was there? Levi slowly padded forward, pulling the door open. Shit.
He stumbled back, panic overwhelming him. He ran to the landing, tears already threatening.
"Alfie? Alfie! Dad's not well, Alfie!" He didn't wait for his response, running back to Tai's side. "Dad? C'mon, wake up, please. Please, dad."
Alfie had been in his room, trying to revise for his upcoming exams. He’d heard Levi calling for Tai, but assumed he’d found him, until he heard him shout again, this time calling for him. He sounded panicked, and Alfie rushed to his feet, hurrying out onto the landing. “What’s wrong? Levi?”
"Dad's not awake. He's breathing but he's not awake."
“Is he hurt?” He asked, worry rising. “Has he hit his head?”
"I don't know. He's soaked, like he'd been in the shower with his clothes on." Levi frowned again. "Do you have his phone? Maybe it's his diabetes?"
Alfie crouched next to his dad, forcing himself to take a deep breath. “In the cupboard, get the proper glucose thingie.”
Levi scrambled up, skidding to a stop in front of the unit and rifling through the drawers. He grabbed it and rushed back, all but throwing it at his brother. "Here."
It was hard to try and think, Alfie relying mainly on what his Dads had always told him. If he was breathing, check his sugars. He fumbled with the kit, trying to find a lancet. He grabbed his dad’s hand, muttering an apology as he broke the skin and took the reading. The machine seemed to take forever, and when it came back, Alfie frowned. Lo. It must be broken, it never read that. He tried again, and got the same result.
“Levi, have you got your phone?”
"It's in my room. Why?"
“Go get it, and call an ambulance. Now.”
"Is dad dying?"
“No, he’s not dying. His sugars aren’t right, though, he needs help.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.
“O-Okay.” He rushed off again, grabbing his phone off his desk. He was already calling 999 as he landed on his knees by the pair.
“Explain he’s diabetic, yeah?”
"Can't you do it?" He hissed between questions. "No, no, he's not awake."
“It’s okay, keep going.” Alfie encouraged.
"Uh, he's diabetic. His sugars aren’t reading. No, no it just said Lo, right Alfie? Yeah, just lo."
Alfie nodded, digging around to find the glucose they kept. It was definitely in there somewhere.
"Can you hurry up, please?" Levi asked the operator. "Dad's not well."
“We’re coming as quickly as we can, sweetheart.” The operator soothed gently, as Alfie finally found what he was looking for. Hands shaking he opened it and managed to give it to Tai, desperately hoping it would do something.
"Have you boys got your dad's glucagon anywhere? The injection that goes in his arm or leg?"
Levi ?? the question to Alfie, biting his lip as he waited. Why did Kieran have to be walking Scout? Why was Harrison at work? He roughly wiped his tears away, his dad needed him to be stronger than this.
“Um, I don’t know. I think it’s here somewhere…” Alfie mumbled, feeling the panic rising.
"Does Kieran have one?"
“I think so. It’s… I think I know where it is.” He said, rushing back over to the cupboard again. His dads had gone over it time and time again, and Kieran knew what to do, but Alfie just hadn’t thought they’d have to actually do it. Why did their Dad have to be working? He managed to find it, and relief flooded through him. “I’ve got it!”
"Do you know what to do?" Levi asked, looking up at his brother.
“Yeah. Yeah, I remember.”
"Alfie, when's dad's birthday? How old is he?"
“Um, he’s 45? Maybe? His birthday is May something. May 25th.”
"She says they're nearly here. I'm gonna go open the door."
“Yeah, go on.” Alfie said, distracted as he gave the injection. He hated doing it, but he had to, and he’d practised before.
@themerrywhumpofmay: bow and arrow
@mediwhumpmay 5: no response
(Snippet from Hidden Killer)
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: M
Warning: murder
Austin works on finding his next target, William Lawrence—the judge who agreed to send him to the asylum.
"This will be easy," he says while reading the judge goes to a country club that does a sport called archery golf. No torture or causing fear, but I'll be causing panic if others are with him."
Austin first needs to get a good idea of the layout of the country club. Finding ways to sneak in, good places to hide, and hit his target. This is going to take a while. Add the challenge of not blowing his cover.
Austin's research takes two weeks. He's annoyed at how long this took but wants to wait to blow his cover. He can get what he needs and plan how to execute his kill.
William Lawrence and five other people enjoy a game of archery golf. A small crowd watches the game from a safe distance.
Austin lets them have fun.
Ten minutes into the game, disaster strikes.
No one sees the arrow until William goes down. One female screams and tries to rush to the man, and she breaks free from the hold two other men have on her and rushes to her husband.
"William, wake up!" She cries, "Will!"
The man is unresponsive.
"Don't try to remove it," a man tells the frantic woman.
Everyone at the scene worries about what the arrow hit. Hoping the amount of blood doesn't indicate how severe the injury is.
Austin smiles, hearing William is dead.
"The arrow stabbed his heart," the paramedic tells the police, "dead before he landed on the ground."
Austin leaves the area with the bow, knowing the police will look for clues as to who did the murder. Wondering who his next victim should be.
Caldwell checked his pocket watch again. Bell was late. Bell was usually a few minutes late. But this was ridiculous. He was late by over an hour.
Maybe he had forgotten their standing appointment. After dinner, Caldwell liked to have Bell sit with him by the fire and talk at him for a few hours. He wouldn’t say it was soothing. But he was a man of habit.
Caldwell walked to the window and looked out into the inky black of night, the roar of a late winter rainstorm pounding the glass of the windows.
Well, if Bell wouldn’t come to him, he would come to Bell.
Caldwell grabbed his overcoat and top hat and strode out into the frigid storm.
The walk down the cottage using the gravel drive was much easier than taking the pasture, less muddy too. Caldwell arrived in no time at the cheerful-looking cottage and raised his hand to bang on the door.
But before he could knock, the door was flung open and Mr. Bell’s farmhand, Hogyn stood there in an oversized raincoat and boots. Hogyn looked up at Caldwell, eyes wide. Caldwell looked down at the young man, mouth open. They stood there a moment more before Hogyn stepped aside.
“Come in, Lord Caldwell, please come in.” Hogyn stammered.
Caldwell did so. “Where is Mr. Bell?”
“That’s what I was going out for, my lord. He’s gone missing.” Hogyn jammed a large floppy hat on his head. “I’m afraid something has happened.”
Caldwell struggled to process this but proceeded forward. “I will help you. But what do you think has happened?”
“He’s been feeling poorly these past few days. And then he went out to fix the pasture fence in all this weather. I couldn’t stop him. He’ll catch his death, my lord, sir.”
Caldwell nodded. “Let’s go then. Are you ready?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good lad. Take the north end, I’ll take the south. We will meet in the middle.”
And they braved the storm. The rain that pelted down was icy and torrential. The wind ripped across the countryside and it was all Caldwell could do to keep his overcoat closed. His top hat was soon gone. Torn off by a gust. Caldwell headed to the pasture fence and began to work his way along it. He called out for Bell many times, his voice swallowed by the storm.
Caldwell lost the feeling in his ears and fingers. His boots filled with rainwater and mud. His clothes hung heavy, drenched and freezing.
He should have brought a lantern. He should have brought a search party. Bell should not be out in this.
The thought that his dear friend was already dead kept whispering into Caldwell’s thoughts.
Tears mixed with the rain on his face.
Caldwell crested a small hill and realized that he’d almost finished searching his share of the property. And no sign of Bell. Unless…
Caldwell squinted through the downpour at a dark smudge. Something lying in the close cropped grass.
Bell.
Caldwell ran forward as best as he could, slipping and sliding in mud and runoff. It was a person. In a dark coat. Laying face down on the ground.
Caldwell turned the man over.
It was Bell. He’d found him.
Bell’s eyes were closed and rain was beginning to pool in the hollows of his eyes. His dark hair was plastered to his face. He was very pale. So pale.
Caldwell shook his friend. “Bell!” He called.
Nothing. No response.
Caldwell put a hand to Bell’s cheek. He was cold.
Caldwell swallowed hard and took his friend in his arms. Carefully, slowly, he made his way back to the cottage.
When he could, Caldwell looked to Bell’s face. If only he would open his eyes. Or stir. The man lay limp and cold against Caldwell’s chest. Bell was such an animated man. His eyes sparkled and he sang so sweetly. To see him like this, lifeless. So close to death. Caldwell felt his heart clenching.
Hogyn met him along the way.
“You found him, my lord, is he?” Hogyn did not finish the question.
“He’s breathing.” Caldwell answered as they entered the warm cottage, dripping puddles onto the floor. “We need dry clothes. And stoke that fire.”
“All of us needs dry clothes.” Hogyn shut the door and began stripping off his coat and hat. “Lest we catch our death too.”
“No, no.” Caldwell set Bell onto his small bed with a sigh. “I can’t. I have got to go for a doctor. Bell is very ill.”
Hogyn had come over by now. “He hasn’t said anything.”
“Nothing.” Caldwell set his jaw and leaned over his friend. “Bell.” He gently shook Bell’s shoulder. Bell’s head sagged to the side. Caldwell pressed a wet hand to Bell’s wet cheek and stroked it.
“Bell.” He urged again. Willing Bell to wake. To respond. But nothing.
Caldwell backed away, blinking tears back. “He won’t wake. Keep him warm. I will return with a doctor.”
Hogyn was stoking the fire. “What doctor would come all the way in this weather, respectfully, my lord?”
“The one I intend to pay very well.” And Caldwell dashed out into the storm again.
I Am Not Alone (I have all of you) Mediwhump May 2023 Day 5 No Response
This fic contains accidental overdose, unconsciousness and shock, please read with discretion.
If Gordon was going to ignore him then he could have at least give Alan a reason as to why.
It wasn’t like Alan had set up any pranks against him recently, unless Gordon had finally found the stash of rubber ducks in his cupboard, so surely this couldn’t be because of a prank gone wrong and as far as Alan knew, he hadn’t made any big mistakes during missions recently so it wasn’t that either.
Alan could not think of a single reason for Gordon to ignore him and yet no matter how many texts he sent and how many times he called out for him, Alan got no response.
Alan had gotten so bored waiting for Gordon to join him to start their monthly Bad Movie Marathon that he had even checked the repair schedule just to see if Gordon had simply been distracted with working on his Thunderbird but apparently all the maintenance and repairs had already been completed. Alan checked the maintenance bay anyway just in case but Gordon wasn’t there.
Gordon wasn’t swimming laps either, another activity he could get lost in for hours, and Alan couldn’t even find him on the beach when he went all the way down there. Alan tried to hail Gordon on his comm again as he trudged back up to the house but once again there was absolutely no response.
Honestly Alan would have become a little worried if he wasn’t outright pissed. They had already missed the last three months of Bad Movie Marathons and Gordon had promised him multiple times that they would actually get around to it this time around. Alan had been stupid to believe him, he should have known that Gordon would find something more interesting to do than spend time with him.
Alan threw himself onto the couch with a huff, lying there for all of three seconds before he got bored. Alan flipped over, crossed his arms, huffed again for good measure and finally sat up fully.
“John,” Alan called.
Within a second a blue projection of John Tracy appeared and Alan was glad to see at least one of his brothers had time for him.
“Alan, I’d love to talk but I’ve got both Virgil and Scott on pretty intense rescues.”
Maybe not then.
“All good.” Alan mumbled. “See ya later.”
“Actually, Alan wa-“
Alan was already on his way towards the kitchen. Kayo was on a secret mission so Alan couldn’t contact her either so apparently and with Grandma on a much needed holiday, he was going to enjoy this Bad Movie Marathon all by himself so he may as well get the popcorn started.
It wasn’t that Alan didn’t understand that his family had very important work to do that made it that they couldn’t always hang out with him, Alan himself has had to rain check on plans before when missions went for longer than expected. But at the end of the day, he did sometimes get frustrated.
He didn’t like being alone, not for more than a couple hours at a time. Being one of five brothers had helped that, there was always someone for him to annoy when all the others were busy. It was hard to be lonely surrounded by not only the other Tracy boys but also Grandma and Kayo and Brains and all the other important people in their lives like Lady Penelope and Parker.
But with Gordon apparently ignoring his entire existence and not answering any of his calls and being no where to be found on the island and all of the others busy, Alan found himself dragging his feet towards the pantry to find the popcorn, undeniably lonely and hating every minute of it.
If anything, the acknowledgment just made him all the more grumpy feeling like some kid lost in a supermarket aisle looking for their family. He wasn’t some kid, he was nearly a full blown adult and yet here he was stupidly feeling lonely and left out just because there was no one to talk to.
Alan considered trying to contact Gordon one more time but decided that Gordon could get fucked and Alan was going to enjoy having an entire bag of popcorn to himself while he watched whatever he felt like. In fact, he might as well have two bags of popcorn to himself because Alan felt like having two packets.
Alan was so pleased with his plan, he hadn’t noticed the body in the pantry until he was already tripping over it, barely keeping himself from landing right on them.
As soon as Alan regained his balance he threw himself on his knees, his heart racing as he flipped the body onto their back. Except it wasn’t just some body, it was Gordon. He was unconscious, his eyes closed and his arm falling limply to the side from how Alan had moved him.
The first priority was making sure that Gordon was breathing and even as Alan leant down over him to feel Gordon’s breath on his cheek and watch Gordon’s chest rise and fall steadily, Alan’s mind hadn’t quite absorbed what he was seeing.
Gordon hadn’t been ignoring his calls because he was being annoying, he had been laying here unconscious the entire time Alan had been home and yet Alan had not once noticed that something was wrong.
It must have been hours, Alan realised, when mere minutes unconscious could have devastating effects on a person’s brain function. Alan didn’t even know why his brother was on the ground like this in the first place, he had no outward sign of injury and while he was breathing deeply and evenly Gordon did not stir when Alan tapped him on the cheek.
There could be a million reasons as to why Gordon could be unresponsive like this and Alan hated every single one of them.
“Gordon?” Alan said loudly. “Gordon, can you hear me?”
Gordon gave no response, not so much as twitching.
Alan was defiantly panicking now, his hands shaking a little as he set two fingers on Gordon’s neck. Like his breathing, Gordon’s pulse was strong and consistent. Even so, something must be wrong with him to be limp on the ground like this.
“Gordon?” Alan tried again.
Not wanting to move Gordon more than he had to, Alan carefully set him onto his side into the recovery position to keep his airway clear. Alan forced his hands to steady as he reached for his phone from his pocket, knowing that any one of his other brothers would know what to do and how to help.
Alan found nothing in his pocket and he cursed, realising that his phone must have fallen out when he thew himself onto the couch earlier. Alan hated the idea of leaving Gordon here, especially since Gordon had already been alone for god knows how long, but Alan was out of his depths. He had first aid training, sure, but not knowing what caused Gordon to be like this meant that he did not know how to fix it.
“I’ll be right back in just one second, okay?”
Alan almost wished that Gordon would stir then and beg for Alan to stay. Maybe he would sit upright and admit that this was all just some messed up prank and that Gordon had gotten him good this time. Gordon did not stir, nor did he sit up. He just lay there, breathing but otherwise unmoving.
Hesitating for a moment longer just in case Gordon woke up, Alan forced himself to stand on shaking legs. Every step back towards the couch in the living room was jolting and Alan felt guilt tearing through his chest realising that if he had just earnestly looked for Gordon hours ago, he might have found him and gotten him help much sooner.
Forcing himself to move faster, Alan stopped just short of the couch. His phone wasn’t there. He could contact John the same way he did just a few minutes ago but that would mean leaving Gordon all alone again and Alan simply could not do that.
Alan turned and swiftly made his way back to the pantry.
Gordon was just where Alan had left him, his eyes still closed and his body strangely still. Gordon was never still, he was always a bundle of energy and Alan had always loved that part of him and seeing him so limp brought back up memories that Alan had wanted to forget.
“Gordon?” Alan said, shaking Gordon’s shoulder slightly. “Come on, you need to wake up.”
Even though Alan could clearly see that Gordon was still breathing, Alan checked his pulse again once more just in case. Gordon’s pulse was steady, he should easily be able to wake up if he wasn’t injured or ill. Alan set the back of his hand on Gordon’s forehead, checking for a fever that wasn’t there.
Alan didn’t understand. People don’t just become unconscious without a reason and yet here Gordon was, no sign of injury or fever with a strong pulse and steady breathing yet still unconscious no matter how many times Alan called out to him.
The only thing that Alan could think of was that maybe this was caused by an overdose. Gordon was on a few different medications to help manage his chronic pain after all, it was definitely a possibility. But Gordon had not thrown up, nor was he showing other clear symptoms that often came with an overdose like difficulty breathing, blue tinged finger tips or…
Fuck, why hadn’t Alan checked Gordon’s pupils yet?
It was such an important step in assessing an unconscious patient yet Alan had been so wrapped up in worry that his brother was lying here unresponsive that he hadn’t even thought to check if Gordon’s eyes were equal and reactive. It could be a concussion with no obvious bump on the head or it could be an overdose after all and Alan had not even checked the tell tale signs because he was an idiot.
Carefully, Alan opened one of Gordon’s eyes. The pupil was a pinpoint and Alan’s heart dropped.
He scrambled up, rushing towards the rest of the kitchen for the med kit. He found it in the third cupboard he checked, so panicked he barely remembered where it was always kept, knowing that every single moment that passed was a moment that Gordon could be closer to death.
Alan tore through the med kit, taking another few precious seconds to find the small bottle of narcan that was in every single one of their first aid kits stashed throughout the house and their Thunderbirds.
Alan shot back to Gordon’s side, nearly dropping the life saving medication as he thew himself onto his knees next to Gordon. Alan administered the Narcan and sat back, his heart still racing as Gordon continued to just lay there.
Not sure if Alan should give Gordon a little bit more Narcan, Alan forced himself to wait a little longer to see if it worked. While Gordon was still currently breathing, Alan could not stand the thought that at any moment his heart could fail and his lungs give out.
Administering another dose of Narcan, Alan began questioning if he even had the right diagnosis as Gordon continued to lay there unresponsive.
“Please…” Alan mumbled, his eyes stinging. “Don’t leave me.”
Gordon jerked forward, amber eyes snapping open as he sucked in a deep breath.
“Gordon!”
“Alan.” Gordon replied.
If Alan wasn’t still incredibly concerned, he may have embraced his brother then and there but the priority was to make sure that Gordon was okay first. If Gordon had indeed had an overdose then the Narcan was just a stop gap and he would still need medical treatment if there was a high enough level of drugs in his system.
Alan placed a hand on Gordon’s chin, twisting his head and checking how Gordon’s eyes responded to both the movement and the light above them.
Gordon slapped the hand away, going so far as to roll his eyes.
“I’m fine.” Gordon said.
“You were literally just unconscious.”
“No I wasn’t.” Gordon said. “I was getting popcorn for the Bad Mov- Why am I on the ground?”
Gordon looked around himself, focus latching onto the Narcan that was still in Alan’s hand. He frowned, blinking a few more times before his shoulders sagged as if realisation at last dawned on him.
“Oh Allie,” Gordon said. “I’m so sorry.”
Alan bit his lip, not letting himself mull over Gordon’s apology. Now that Gordon was conscious, the next priority would be getting him to hospital before he had a chance to overdose again but even when Alan tried to stand up he found that his legs were shaking too badly to support his weight.
Despite what had just happened it was Gordon who stood first, helping Alan up onto his feet, Gordon’s hand not leaving Alan’s elbow even when they were both fully up.
“You overdosed.” Alan whispered, feeling numb.
“I’m okay now.” Gordon said.
“You overdosed.” Alan repeated.
“The doctor readjusted my meds last week,” Gordon explained. “I guess it was too much. Thank you, Alan I’m sorry you had to do… That.”
“I thought you were ignoring me.” Alan said. “You overdosed and I just thought you were ignoring me."
“Alan,” Gordon said. “Are you feeling okay? You’re a little pale.”
“You overdosed.” Alan said again.
Alan knew that his hands were shaking and that his words weren’t making much sense but with the world spinning around him and his brother was not dead but he could have been dead and why couldn’t he get his hands to stop shaking.
“Alan,” Gordon said, his voice oddly distant considering he was standing right there. “I think you should sit back down.”
Alan had to call the hospital. He had to make sure that Gordon got the care he needed, had to make sure that this never happened again. Alan would need to call Scott too and explain that Alan had messed up by not checking in on Gordon sooner. He would have to admit that Gordon could have died because of him, admit that Alan wasn’t anything else but a scared little kid who nearly lost his brother today.
When Alan blinked he was sitting on the couch, a plastic cup of water loosely in his hand. He blinked again, trying to remember how he had gotten there but with a jolt of panic, Alan realised that Gordon was still in danger and here Alan was just sitting on the couch.
“Whoah there, Alan,” A familiar voice said. “You’re okay.”
Alan snapped towards the voice, his heart racing.
“You’ve been unresponsive for a while now,” Virgil said. “How are you feeling?”
“Gordon, he-“
“He’s okay.” Virgil said. “Scott took him to the hospital just as a precaution but they say he’s doing great. He’s going to stay the night but he’ll be back home tomorrow.”
“Gordon doesn’t like the hospital.” Alan said numbly.
“No,” Virgil smiled. “No he doesn’t but he likes Scott’s lectures a hell of a lot less. Try to drink a little bit, but take it slow.”
Alan needed to know more, he needed to see Gordon himself to make sure that he was actually okay. But then he realised that his mouth was dry and so he downed the whole glass in one go or at least he tried to before Virgil snatched the cup right off him.
“I said slow, you’re still coming down from the shock.”
“Shock?” Alan said dumbly.
“Yeah, when Scott and I came back from our rescues, we found Gordon sitting here on the couch with you. He was trying to talk to you but you weren’t responding and Gordon had to explain what happened.”
“Gordon overdosed.” Alan said.
“Yeah…” Virgil frowned. “Yeah, he did. But he’s okay now and soon enough you’ll be feeling better too. Now, I’m going to give you back the cup but only on the condition that you drink slowly alright? I really don’t need you making yourself sick.”
“I’m not a child.” Alan said.
“I didn’t say you were,” Virgil said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t still worry about you, little brother.”
Once Alan had finished the glass, slowly as Virgil kept reminding him, he was feeling a lot more like himself and the world even stopped spinning around him. He tried to stand, wanting to go straight to the hospital but Virgil stopped him with a gentle hand on the shoulder.
“It’s already late,” Virgil said. “You can see him when he comes home tomorrow.”
“I don’t want him to be alone.”
“Scott is with him.” Virgil promised. “And I’m with you. No one is alone.”
“John’s alone.” Alan whispered.
“Actually,” A new voice said. “I’m here too and Grandma is on her way.”
As Alan watched, John came fully into the living room carrying a large bowl. It was strange seeing him down on Earth and not floating up on Five but Alan could not deny that he was glad to see him and even more glad to smell the popcorn that was in the bowl.
Alan perked up, Virgil setting a hand on his shoulder again as if expecting him to try to stand.
“John,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Alan probably shouldn’t have popcorn just yet.”
“Who said it was for him?” John teased.
John passed the bowl to Alan all the same before settling into his own armchair, Virgil still sitting right beside Alan.
“So,” Virgil said, stealing a kernel. “What movie first?”
“What?” Alan blinked.
“It’s Bad Movie Marathon night, isn’t it?” Virgil said. “I know I’m not Gordon but I still appreciate bad movies.”
Alan blinked again, still not quite understanding.
“‘Bad’ Is such a subjective term for movies,” John said. “Unless of course you’re talking about the Transformers movies. Then the word ‘bad’ is an apt description.”
“You want to watch something with me?” Alan asked.
“Of course,” Virgil said. “Your pick.”
Alan didn’t care what they watched. He just let himself settle into Virgil’s side, reassuring himself that Gordon was okay and reassuring himself that he was going to be okay too because he wasn’t alone anymore and in fact he never had been.
@mediwhumpmay
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