Since Wolfpup got to go to the con, and there isn't anything else to read, I've decided to do a bunch of little snippits. I actually thought of this a month or so ago, but haven't had the impetus to do anything about it. My goal is to spam up the works with new stuff. :) Oh, yeah. Not mine. No money. Please don't sue. J
Hero du Jour - Brown
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"And finally, we would like to tell you about an incident that occurred earlier this evening, during the evening commute." A still photo came up; the scene of an horrendous traffic accident and the reporter continued her commentary on the human interest story.
"This big-rig had a blow-out, causing it to go out of control on the curve and roll, resulting in a fifteen car pile-up. Due to the heavy traffic, emergency vehicles were unable to get to the scene for nearly thirty minutes. That's where this man came in. Detective Henri Brown, of our own Cascade Police Department, was in the traffic just behind the accident. He avoided the accident himself, and exited his car to attempt to aid the victims. He is credited with saving the lives of twelve of the victims, including the driver of the big-rig, who was trapped inside the cab of his truck."
Video was shown of the aftermath of the accident, the devistation to the involved vehicles, the numerous ambulances and emergency personnel aiding the injured. The smoke from the fire that broke out from one of the vehicles, resulting in even more damage.
"Detective Brown risked his own life when he reached through the flames to help the trapped victims inside; managing to get all three people out, a mother and her two children, one of whom was in an infant car seat, strapped in the rear. When the emergency crews arrived, Detective Brown was busy doing CPR on an elderly man, who is listed in guarded condition at this time. Spokesperson from the Fire Department credits Detective Brown as the sole reason there was no loss of life in this horrendous crash.:" Unfortunately, they had been unable to get any photos of Detective Brown for their broadcast, so they used one from their files. Unfortunately, it was a very poor picture.
He was still tired when he dragged in at eight-fifteen the next morning. He gave out faint smiles of acknowledgement to those who called out congratulations as he passed. He ignored the ribbing from his co-workers when he entered the bullpen. He collapsed at his desk, head tilted back, sunglasses hiding his eyes.
"Brown. My office." The captain called from across the room. With a faint groan, Brown dragged himself back to his feet and headed for the glassed-in office. He had a little trouble with the doorknob.
"Yes, sir?" He stood in the doorway with an ingratiating smile pasted half-heartedly on his face.
"Come in and close the door." Watching closely, observently.
"Yes, sir." He stood in front of the desk, not about to sit down without an invitation.
"Sit down." When his subordinate had complied, he stood, towering over the younger man. Unconsciously intimidating. "I got a call first thing this morning. It seems that you left the hospital yesterday, without consent. I'd like to hear your version."
"They wanted me to stay overnight. I have to be in court this morning and couldn't afford to be kept in the hospital. I'm all right, really."
Simon picked up Henri's bandaged hands. "All right? How bad are they?" Looking and seeing the pain in the younger man's eyes. "And, what do you mean you have to be in court this morning? You were supposed to be the first witness yesterday?"
"Yeah. Only the lawyers argued stuff all day and I was stuck in the witness room with nothing to do all day. Then that crap last night, I didn't get home until nearly two, up at six, here now, and I have to go back to court. On top of all that, my best suit was ruined yesterday, so Judge Andrews is gonna ream me a new one for not being 'properly attired' in his courtroom."
"If he saw the news, I'm sure he'll be a little more lenient. You didn't answer the question. How bad are your hands?"
"Second degree burns. I got 'em getting the baby out of that car." Hanging his head in embarrassment.
"After which you pulled more people out of danger, ending with fifteen-twenty minutes of CPR, right?"
"Uh, I guess. I didn't notice the time. Only that it took forever for the paramedics to get there." He didn't squirm when the Captain gently pulled back the sleeves of his sports jacket and checked the bandages that wrapped up his arms.
"OK. Go on to court. When you get out, go back to the hospital for them to check your burns. Understand?"
"Yes, sir." Brown stood to leave. He was halted at the door, "Here, let me get that for you." Simon said, realizing just how difficult it must be for him to use his burned and bandaged hands. He opened the door, "By the way, Henri," He spoke softly, "Excellent job yesterday." Patting the younger man on the shoulder as he left.
"I'd like to call Detective Henri Brown to the stand."
He stood, making microscopic adjustments to his shirt and tie. He strode to the stand, trying to hide the bandages plainly visible on his hands. He couldn't believe the number of people. It was a simple stolen car ring. Then he realized that the majority of people there were media. He cringed inside, knowing that the reaming he was going to get over the sportscoat was nothing compared to the reaming he'd get over the media presence.
He placed his bandaged left hand on the Bible and raised his equally bandaged right hand; swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God. Once he was seated, he relaxed, just a little. He was prepared, had been ready for this for several days. His testimony was tight, concise and unshakable. The cross-examination, on the other hand, was difficult. The defense attorney was antagonistic, sarcastic, and belligerent. He did his best to keep his cool; refusing to rise to any bait thrown at him. Careful to avoid showing any anger or annoyance. After more than a dozen sustained objections from the prosecutor, Judge Andrews finally stepped in.
"Counselor, your badgering of this witness isn't furthering your case, nor is it making you look any better. If you have no real questions for the Detective, I suggest you stop and allow us to get on with the trying of this case." He then addressed the jury. "I'm certain you all saw the news last night or this morning, describing Detective Brown's exploits yesterday. I'm quite well aware of the media coverage this case is suddenly drawing, primarily due to the curiosity about Detective Brown, no doubt. I hereby instruct you to take only his testimony into account, what he does on his own time is not relevant to this case." He then turned back to the defense lawyer, "Counselor?"
"No further questions, your honour."
The Prosecutor redirected, merely asking him to repeat his testimony. After which he was finally dismissed. He'd spent a mere thirty minutes on his original testimony followed by an hour and a half with the defense trying to refute his statement. Which was followed by another twenty minutes reiterating his original statement. He was amazed that he hadn't caught hell from the Judge over his appearance. Deciding that it was because he'd seen the news and understood why he wasn't in his suit. His hands were causing him great pain. He'd left the hospital without permission, so he had nothing for the pain, nor any antibiotics to prevent infection. He was wondering how he was going to manage to drive himself back to the hospital.
"Hey, Brown. Ready to go to the hospital?"
He looked down in surprise at the younger man, standing there, long curly hair, bouncing in place. "What are you doing here, Hair-boy?" Confused.
"Oh, I've been waiting for you. Simon and Jim told me to come wait for you and take you back to the hospital, 'cause your hands were probably hurting pretty bad by now. You ready to go?"
"Yeah, sure. Thanks." Following the smaller man and allowing Blair to get the doors for him.
"No problem, man. That was great, what you did yesterday. Everyone's been talking about it. We're really proud of you, man."
"I was just..."
"I know, I know, you were just doing your job. You went above and beyond, man. Just accept it." Chuckling at his friend's modesty.
"Sure, Blair. Thanks."
"No problem, man. Hey, did you hear? The lady and two kids you rescued?"
"What? Are they OK? I thought..."
"Oh, no. No. Nothing's wrong with them. They're fine. I just wondered if you'd heard about who they are?"
"Huh uh. I've been too busy, kid. So tell me?"
"That was Judge Andrews daughter and grandkids. I take it he didn't say anything to you about it. I guess he couldn't and still sit for that case." They had reached the Volvo and Blair opened the passenger door for Henri to get in, even reaching in and fastening his seat belt for him.
"That explains why it took him so long to say anything to the defense lawyer. Man, he was one unhappy lawyer when the judge finally managed to tell him off. I wondered what took him so long."
"Hey, did he call you on the sport's jacket?"
"No. Now I know why." He smiled, grateful for small favours.
Four hours at the hospital. They'd had to clean and rebandage his hands and arms. They'd given him Tylenol4 for the pain, and antibiotics to fight any possibility of infection. He was told to go home and rest for several days, let someone take care of him. Unfortunately, he didn't have anyone to take care of him. He'd manage, somehow. He always did.
Blair had picked up the prescriptions, listened to the doctor's instructions, realized the problem, excused himself and made a couple of quick phone calls. When he came back, he was grinning.
"What's so funny?" Henri was tired, between the lack of sleep the night before, the morning spent in court, and now the four hours at the hospital, he was ready to drop.
"Oh, nothing. Funny, anyway. You ready to go?"
"Yeah. Can I get you to take me home? I'll get my car later."
"Sure. You need to pack, I'll give you a hand."
"Pack?" Confused.
"Yeah. You know, clothes for a few days? Pack. Razor, toothbrush, that kind of thing?"
"Why?" Totally lost.
"Because, you're going to follow the doctor's orders. It's all set." He again opened the car door for him and fastened his seatbelt before circling the car and getting in.
"I don't understand?"
"Just go with the flow, man." Smiling broadly and not explaining anything.
He was too tired to press, so he leaned back in the seat and dozed as Blair drove to his apartment.
He was none the wiser even after Blair had packed for him. He was still protesting when Blair pushed him out the door, down the elevator, outside to the car, and back in the car.
"Just relax, H. Everything is just fine. I made a couple of phone calls. Simon's Ok'd your time off, Joel and Mable have offered to put you up until your hands heal, no big deal. Got it?" Fairly bouncing in self-satisfied excitement at his cleverness.
"Joel? Huh?" The Tylenol4 was beginning to take effect. What they didn't usually tell you is that the tablets were mostly Codein. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open, let alone track of what he was being told.
Blair smiled, understanding. "Don't worry about it. Just relax. Everything is under control." He was greeted with a soft snore, as the drugs and the day caught up with his passenger.
Mable loved taking care of people. Opening her and Joel's home to their friend and co-worker was an instant transpiration. When Blair arrived with their guest, Mable had a bedroom already made up for him. Brown was groggy and pretty much unaware of anything as Blair roused him from his stupor, rousted him from the car and guided the larger man to the house. Mable led them to the spare room on the ground floor, making things easier for her to care for her charge. They cajoled Henri out of his jacket and shirt, after which Blair pushed him down on the bed and bent down to remove the barely conscious man's shoes before lifting his legs to the bed, pulling the covers up and tucking him in. He exchanged amused smiles with Mable and then followed her to the kitchen.
"He'll probably be out for at least a couple of hours. Those Tylenol4s can really do a number on you." He smiled.
"What other medication is he on?" Looking at the literature that came with the prescription, what to worry about, what was normal.
"Antibiotics. They were pretty mad at him for skipping out on them last night. I think they actually wanted to keep him, but changed their minds. I'm not sure what he told them, but they let him go."
"Poor baby. You said he was in court all morning?" Handing Blair a soft drink.
"Yeah. I guess he got home some time after two this morning, up at six, in the station at seven-thirty, in court at nine, on the stand for about two and a half hours. Most of that time being taken up by the defense attorney trying to trip him up, until the judge finally came to his rescue. Then four hours at the hospital. Five hundred milligrams of Tylenol4 on top of that, I'm surprised I didn't have to carry him in here." Smiling at the notion of him carrying the much larger man.
"Well, I'll see to it that he doesn't have anything too difficult to do for the next few days, at least until his hands heal. How bad are they?"
Blair sipped his soda. "Second degree, for the most part. Big blisters, really painful. That's why the antibiotics. It's probably going to be at least a week before he can really do anything with his hands. He's going to have fun trying to function." Blair grimaced, imagining how difficult it was going to be.
"We'll manage, dear."
Manage they did. Henri spent most of the first three days sleeping, barely having the strength to get up to eat of perform bodily functions. After the third day, Mable took him off of the Tylenol4 and took him back to the hospital. They ran some tests and changed his medication. He was more alert, although the pain was more intense, they decided it was a fair tradeoff.
Ten days after the accident, he was healed enough to return home and go back to work. He walked in the bullpen to his desk and sat down, pleased that no one had looked up at his entrance. He checked his in-basket, and started working on some reports he had left from before this mess started.
"Brown! My office."
Sighing, thinking things were really back to normal, he stood and made his way to the Captain's office. Where he was met with the entire division to welcome him back, complete with cake and coffee.
His hands still ached a little and the peeling blisters itched, but it was good to be back. Good to be welcomed by his colleagues, accepted. Good to be home.
"Oh, by the way, here's an assignment for you." Simon added, handing him a file. Yep. Things were back to normal. He smiled.