#mediwhumpmayday5

[faofinn]

Day 5 - No Response

@mediwhumpmay

"Dad?" Levi called. "Dad?"

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. 

[autobot2001]

Deadly Golf

@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.

[sticks-and-stones-are-great]

Mediwhump May - Day 5

"No Response"

(original characters/story)

@mediwhumpmay

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.