The Effects of the Accident
Genre: Hurt/comfort
Rating: K+
Timeline: AU, but after Series 7 episode 2
Summary: a 1500-word story written for the prompt: "Lucas North gets ill or injured, is there anyone there to comfort or take care of him?"
Disclaimer: Spooks and all recognizable characters belong to BBC and Kudos Productions, I am only borrowing with no intent to profit.
Rating: K+
Timeline: AU, but after Series 7 episode 2
Summary: a 1500-word story written for the prompt: "Lucas North gets ill or injured, is there anyone there to comfort or take care of him?"
Disclaimer: Spooks and all recognizable characters belong to BBC and Kudos Productions, I am only borrowing with no intent to profit.
+++++
Lucas North ran because there was no alternative. The man he was chasing had the detonation code to the bomb, and Lucas had to get it, had to stop the bomb from going off and killing innocent civilians. Focused only on the figure in front of him, Lucas ran, closing the distance one step at a time.
"I'm in pursuit!" he shouted into his two-way. "I'm –"
He saw the car out of the corner of his eye, heard the squeal of brakes, felt something slam into his leg, and then he was flying.
+++++
Listening in, Jo grimaced at the sound of the crash, then asked, "Lucas?"
There was a pattern to the almost-silence through the radio. Jo listened closer; it was harsh breathing. "Lucas? Lucas, are you all right?"
"What happened?" Ros had stayed behind with the bomb.
"Lucas was hit by a car," Jo replied. Slowly, Ros said, "Right …"
Malcolm, who apparently knew everything about every technical device, leaned forward and said, "Ros, is there a metal skip near you? If you can put the bomb into one, it'll still go off, but the force of the explosion will be channelled upwards."
"I've spotted one--" Ros said, and was suddenly silent. In the background, a strange female voice became audible. "Don't be dead, please don't be dead, I'm so sorry!"
The skin on the back of Jo's neck crawled in horror as she waited, and when they heard a distinctly masculine groan, they all breathed a sigh of relief. The woman changed her babble to a prayer of thanksgiving, which was then drowned out by a deep, intense boom across the radio.
+++++
Lucas was aware of pain, bright lights, and people demanding things of him.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Can you tell me what day it is?"
"Can you follow my finger with your eyes, without moving your head?"
That was how it started. Simple questions. Soften you up. Get you talking. He wasn't going to answer. If he didn't speak, he couldn't slip up and reveal something he shouldn't. No matter what they asked him, he wouldn't reply. He looked away when they shone a torch directly into his pupils, then shut his eyes completely, ignoring the questions that came again and again, the pain, the nausea, and the nagging sense that something was wrong.
+++++
Lucas opened his eyes. It hurt. Everything hurt, but then he became aware that someone was holding his hand, and he saw who was sitting by his bed.
"Jo," he croaked. "Harry."
They both smiled, and Harry asked, "How do you feel?"
"I'll live," he replied, and Harry smiled a little.
Lucas glanced around, recognizing the hospital ambience. His arm was in plaster, his ribs were bandaged, and along with his headache, his ears were ringing. "What happened?"
"What do you remember?" Harry asked, and Lucas had to think for a moment. "There was a … bomb?"
"Go on," Harry urged, but Jo grinned suddenly and said, "I'm going to call the nurse."
She depressed the call button, still grinning, then sat down again. Seeing Harry smile, too, Lucas asked, "What?"
"We're just so happy you're awake and talking," Jo replied.
The nurse came, and then the doctor, both asking him questions and checking his responses. Before the doctor left, he shook hands with Jo and Harry, calling them Mr and Mrs North.
When they were alone again, Lucas raised his eyebrows in silent query.
"They thought you were doing so poorly that they said only family members could visit," Jo explained. "So Harry's your father, and I'm your wife. Your uncle Malcolm might come to-morrow, and your sister Ros will show up when she can."
Lucas smiled, not at the idea of his colleagues pretending to be his family, but at the unexpected feeling of warmth and belonging that came with it. Suddenly, tears came to his eyes, and he started to sob. Harry passed him a handkerchief, then sat in slightly uncomfortable silence while Jo rubbed Lucas' good arm. Gripping her hand, Lucas held it tightly, fighting the pain in his ribs that every breath caused, and eventually the nurse returned.
"Emotional outbursts are a normal reaction after concussion," she replied to Harry's question, injecting something into the drip. "But now, visiting hours are over for the night."
Jo leaned over, wiped a tear from Lucas' cheek, then kissed him gently on the lips. "I'll come back to-morrow, darling."
Whatever the nurse had given him took effect almost instantly, and Lucas murmured sleepily, "G'night darling ..."
+++++
Ros came by the next day at about lunchtime, and although Lucas had been dozing off, he was genuinely glad to see her. He smiled first, then did a double take at her appearance. "What happened to you?"
"Just a bit of shrapnel." Ros saw Lucas' puzzled look and asked, "Do you remember the bomb?"
"Yes," Lucas lied, frustrated that he couldn't recall more than that.
"I didn't have time to de-fuse it, so I dumped it in a metal skip. The energy was channelled upwards, just like Malcolm said, but what goes up, must come down, and that included everything else that was in the skip at the time."
Lucas winced. "I'm sorry."
"It looks worse than it is." Ros changed the subject. "What do you want me to bring from your flat? Toothbrush, pyjamas, something to read? Give me a list, otherwise I'll have to go straight back to the Grid and get started on that boring paperwork."
Her tone of voice conveyed everything she felt about that option, and Lucas grinned as he tried to think of what he might need.
+++++
"Flowers, fruit basket, chocolates, who brought you all that?" Jo asked when she and Malcolm had finally found Lucas behind the pile of gifts on his bedside table.
"The woman who ran into me," Lucas explained. "Poor thing was so upset, she couldn't apologize enough. If you two want anything, please, help yourselves."
Although he was doing well enough that they'd moved him from intensive care to a regular ward, and taken him off the drip, Jo thought he still looked pale, fragile, and in need of everything he could get. She hesitated, but Lucas urged, "Go on, even I can't eat that much."
While Jo peeled a tangerine, meaning to share it with him, Malcolm politely picked out a chocolate from the box and asked, "Do you need us to get anything from your flat for you?"
"Thanks, but Ros already did that," Lucas said. Jo glanced at Malcolm in surprise, then asked, "When?"
"Just after lunchtime, why?"
"Harry insisted that Ros go home at lunchtime," Malcolm explained. A little testily, Jo added, "She shouldn't have come in at all to-day."
Lucas looked so overwhelmed by Ros' gesture that Jo wondered if he were going to start crying again, but then suddenly, he yawned. "Sorry, I'm not usually this sleepy."
"You haven't usually been hit by a car," Jo said, which brought a smile to his face.
"We'll let you rest, and this is for when you're feeling better." Malcolm laid an iPod on the table. "It's mostly Mozart."
Jo sighed, then pulled out her own iPod. "I got you Mozart, too."
+++++
After he'd walked from the car and climbed the stairs to his flat, Lucas' head and ribs were throbbing. He was grateful that Jo was there to unlock the door, carry his bag, and even help him out of his coat, so that all he had to do was shuffle in and ease himself onto the sofa. Shutting his eyes, he heard Jo go back out to her car to get something. He wasn't as tired as he had been in the first few days after the accident, but it was easier to distract himself from the pain by dreaming of something else.
Jo returned, and he opened his eyes to see her tucking a sleeping bag into one corner of the room. At his quizzical look, she said, "I'm staying a couple of nights."
She sounded defiant, expecting him to protest, and Lucas disarmed her with a broad smile. "Jo, thanks. You've done so much already that I didn't want to ask, but I appreciate it, I really do."
Jo smiled back in relief. "Right. I'll make some tea, and then I'll see what else needs to be done."
"You don't have to," Lucas said, but Jo shook her head. "No, I want to."
As she went to the kitchen, Lucas glanced around his flat. Nothing obvious had changed, and yet it felt different somehow. As he tried to analyze the difference, he was reminded of words he had spoken to Harry once. Home isn't where you live, it's where people understand you. If I don't have trust with MI-5, from you, I'll never be home, I'll just be back in England.
Then he realized that his flat wasn't just a flat anymore. He was home.
Lucas North ran because there was no alternative. The man he was chasing had the detonation code to the bomb, and Lucas had to get it, had to stop the bomb from going off and killing innocent civilians. Focused only on the figure in front of him, Lucas ran, closing the distance one step at a time.
"I'm in pursuit!" he shouted into his two-way. "I'm –"
He saw the car out of the corner of his eye, heard the squeal of brakes, felt something slam into his leg, and then he was flying.
+++++
Listening in, Jo grimaced at the sound of the crash, then asked, "Lucas?"
There was a pattern to the almost-silence through the radio. Jo listened closer; it was harsh breathing. "Lucas? Lucas, are you all right?"
"What happened?" Ros had stayed behind with the bomb.
"Lucas was hit by a car," Jo replied. Slowly, Ros said, "Right …"
Malcolm, who apparently knew everything about every technical device, leaned forward and said, "Ros, is there a metal skip near you? If you can put the bomb into one, it'll still go off, but the force of the explosion will be channelled upwards."
"I've spotted one--" Ros said, and was suddenly silent. In the background, a strange female voice became audible. "Don't be dead, please don't be dead, I'm so sorry!"
The skin on the back of Jo's neck crawled in horror as she waited, and when they heard a distinctly masculine groan, they all breathed a sigh of relief. The woman changed her babble to a prayer of thanksgiving, which was then drowned out by a deep, intense boom across the radio.
+++++
Lucas was aware of pain, bright lights, and people demanding things of him.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Can you tell me what day it is?"
"Can you follow my finger with your eyes, without moving your head?"
That was how it started. Simple questions. Soften you up. Get you talking. He wasn't going to answer. If he didn't speak, he couldn't slip up and reveal something he shouldn't. No matter what they asked him, he wouldn't reply. He looked away when they shone a torch directly into his pupils, then shut his eyes completely, ignoring the questions that came again and again, the pain, the nausea, and the nagging sense that something was wrong.
+++++
Lucas opened his eyes. It hurt. Everything hurt, but then he became aware that someone was holding his hand, and he saw who was sitting by his bed.
"Jo," he croaked. "Harry."
They both smiled, and Harry asked, "How do you feel?"
"I'll live," he replied, and Harry smiled a little.
Lucas glanced around, recognizing the hospital ambience. His arm was in plaster, his ribs were bandaged, and along with his headache, his ears were ringing. "What happened?"
"What do you remember?" Harry asked, and Lucas had to think for a moment. "There was a … bomb?"
"Go on," Harry urged, but Jo grinned suddenly and said, "I'm going to call the nurse."
She depressed the call button, still grinning, then sat down again. Seeing Harry smile, too, Lucas asked, "What?"
"We're just so happy you're awake and talking," Jo replied.
The nurse came, and then the doctor, both asking him questions and checking his responses. Before the doctor left, he shook hands with Jo and Harry, calling them Mr and Mrs North.
When they were alone again, Lucas raised his eyebrows in silent query.
"They thought you were doing so poorly that they said only family members could visit," Jo explained. "So Harry's your father, and I'm your wife. Your uncle Malcolm might come to-morrow, and your sister Ros will show up when she can."
Lucas smiled, not at the idea of his colleagues pretending to be his family, but at the unexpected feeling of warmth and belonging that came with it. Suddenly, tears came to his eyes, and he started to sob. Harry passed him a handkerchief, then sat in slightly uncomfortable silence while Jo rubbed Lucas' good arm. Gripping her hand, Lucas held it tightly, fighting the pain in his ribs that every breath caused, and eventually the nurse returned.
"Emotional outbursts are a normal reaction after concussion," she replied to Harry's question, injecting something into the drip. "But now, visiting hours are over for the night."
Jo leaned over, wiped a tear from Lucas' cheek, then kissed him gently on the lips. "I'll come back to-morrow, darling."
Whatever the nurse had given him took effect almost instantly, and Lucas murmured sleepily, "G'night darling ..."
+++++
Ros came by the next day at about lunchtime, and although Lucas had been dozing off, he was genuinely glad to see her. He smiled first, then did a double take at her appearance. "What happened to you?"
"Just a bit of shrapnel." Ros saw Lucas' puzzled look and asked, "Do you remember the bomb?"
"Yes," Lucas lied, frustrated that he couldn't recall more than that.
"I didn't have time to de-fuse it, so I dumped it in a metal skip. The energy was channelled upwards, just like Malcolm said, but what goes up, must come down, and that included everything else that was in the skip at the time."
Lucas winced. "I'm sorry."
"It looks worse than it is." Ros changed the subject. "What do you want me to bring from your flat? Toothbrush, pyjamas, something to read? Give me a list, otherwise I'll have to go straight back to the Grid and get started on that boring paperwork."
Her tone of voice conveyed everything she felt about that option, and Lucas grinned as he tried to think of what he might need.
+++++
"Flowers, fruit basket, chocolates, who brought you all that?" Jo asked when she and Malcolm had finally found Lucas behind the pile of gifts on his bedside table.
"The woman who ran into me," Lucas explained. "Poor thing was so upset, she couldn't apologize enough. If you two want anything, please, help yourselves."
Although he was doing well enough that they'd moved him from intensive care to a regular ward, and taken him off the drip, Jo thought he still looked pale, fragile, and in need of everything he could get. She hesitated, but Lucas urged, "Go on, even I can't eat that much."
While Jo peeled a tangerine, meaning to share it with him, Malcolm politely picked out a chocolate from the box and asked, "Do you need us to get anything from your flat for you?"
"Thanks, but Ros already did that," Lucas said. Jo glanced at Malcolm in surprise, then asked, "When?"
"Just after lunchtime, why?"
"Harry insisted that Ros go home at lunchtime," Malcolm explained. A little testily, Jo added, "She shouldn't have come in at all to-day."
Lucas looked so overwhelmed by Ros' gesture that Jo wondered if he were going to start crying again, but then suddenly, he yawned. "Sorry, I'm not usually this sleepy."
"You haven't usually been hit by a car," Jo said, which brought a smile to his face.
"We'll let you rest, and this is for when you're feeling better." Malcolm laid an iPod on the table. "It's mostly Mozart."
Jo sighed, then pulled out her own iPod. "I got you Mozart, too."
+++++
After he'd walked from the car and climbed the stairs to his flat, Lucas' head and ribs were throbbing. He was grateful that Jo was there to unlock the door, carry his bag, and even help him out of his coat, so that all he had to do was shuffle in and ease himself onto the sofa. Shutting his eyes, he heard Jo go back out to her car to get something. He wasn't as tired as he had been in the first few days after the accident, but it was easier to distract himself from the pain by dreaming of something else.
Jo returned, and he opened his eyes to see her tucking a sleeping bag into one corner of the room. At his quizzical look, she said, "I'm staying a couple of nights."
She sounded defiant, expecting him to protest, and Lucas disarmed her with a broad smile. "Jo, thanks. You've done so much already that I didn't want to ask, but I appreciate it, I really do."
Jo smiled back in relief. "Right. I'll make some tea, and then I'll see what else needs to be done."
"You don't have to," Lucas said, but Jo shook her head. "No, I want to."
As she went to the kitchen, Lucas glanced around his flat. Nothing obvious had changed, and yet it felt different somehow. As he tried to analyze the difference, he was reminded of words he had spoken to Harry once. Home isn't where you live, it's where people understand you. If I don't have trust with MI-5, from you, I'll never be home, I'll just be back in England.
Then he realized that his flat wasn't just a flat anymore. He was home.