Chapter Text
Dan was becoming more and more anxious as the minutes dragged on and Flemming didn’t return. He glanced over his shoulder every few seconds, straining his ears for any sign that his partner was nearby, torn between going after him and staying with the victim lying unconscious next to him. He knew he could not, in good conscience, leave the ailing man alone and at the potential mercy of his kidnapper. Yet a dark part of him whispered that the man capable of doing this to Martin Jonstrup, could very well be alone with Flemming. And Peter and Martin were evidence of the suspect’s ruthlessness and stealth. Unconsciously, Dan’s knee began to bounce as his thoughts continued to race through his mind. Finally, finally, he heard the telltale wail of an ambulance siren, the decibels increasing as the vehicle got closer. Slamming doors preceded the thundering of hurried footsteps before two paramedics came rushing past the doorway. Dan called out to them, and they skidded to a stop, ducking back into the doorway and making their way straight for the patient. Satisfied that he could now safely leave his charge, Dan leapt up, making for the doorway himself. A quick check of what hospital the ambulance would head to, so he knew where to go once he found Flemming, and he was gone, racing down the corridors even as he fumbled for his torch and armed himself.
He cleared each room as quickly as thoroughness would allow, making his way deeper into the building in the direction his partner had run in, calling out occasionally and receiving no response. His heart was thundering in his ears the longer he went unanswered and without hide nor hair of his partner. “Where are you, Flemming.” He growled softly. As he turned the corner into the next room, the beam from his torch landed on a pair of black trainers and Dan’s heart leapt into his throat. He shifted the beam to illuminate the terrifyingly still form of his partner, splayed out haphazardly on the floor. He was on his front, his head tilted to the side and facing Dan so he could see the frighteningly slack features, painted with a shocking red that seemed to be originating from somewhere near Flemming’s hairline. “Flemming?” Dan called, as he swung his torch to search the room, glancing from the surroundings back to his partner when he received no response. Finding the room empty, Dan finally released the energy that had him coiled like a spring and launched himself towards Flemming’s body. “Flemming.” He called again, more urgently, as he landed on one knee, hands hastily stowing his weapon back in it’s holster and then reaching for the pulse point on Flemming’s neck.
The slight tremble to his fingers didn’t impede his ability to immediately feel the strong pulse beneath Flemming’s skin and a breath of relief escaped him. But there was still the matter of the blood flowing from Flemming’s head and the man’s stubborn state of unconsciousness. The paramedics would likely have taken Martin Jonstrup to the hospital by now - he’d need to call for another ambulance. As he fished his phone out of his pocket, a groan sounded from Flemming and Dan felt the man shift slightly beneath the hand he had placed on his arm. Pausing in his motions, Dan glanced from his phone to Flemming’s face which now sported a pained grimace. “Flemming?” Another groan answered him as brown eyes fluttered open. “Flemming? Can you hear me?” Dan gasped, leaning closer as his partner blinked slowly, getting his bearings. “Dan?” Flemming grunted after a few beats, squinting up at the other man. Dan couldn’t hold back the relieved laugh that bubbled up at seeing his partner awake and coherent. “Shit, man, you scared me.” He breathed, squeezing Flemming’s arm reassuringly.
“Dan?” The relief was overshadowed by concern at the confused look on Flemming’s face.
“Yeah, it’s me, Flemming.” Dan assured, keeping his voice low to avoid exacerbating the headache that Flemming surely had.
“Dan? Where are we?”
Dan was frozen for a moment, dread swirling in his gut and twisting up his insides. “We’re at the Aurora building site, Flemming. Remember?” He coaxed hesitantly, thumb hovering over the call button on his phone where the emergency number was already dialled in. Flemming’s brow creased into a frown again before evening out as he seemed to connect the dots. “Ah. The prospectus.” He sighed and some of the tension left Dan.
“Yeah. Flemming?” The man hummed in response. “Do I need to call an ambulance for you, or can you make it to the car.”
“No ambulance.” Flemming grunted as he started to push himself up from the floor, accepting Dan’s arms under his own to assist. “I’m fine.” Dan grumbled his disbelief at that but settled for driving Flemming to the hospital himself, anchoring one hand under his friend’s arm despite Flemming’s protests, and walking to the exit,not missing the occasional falter in his partner’s step as they went. Fine indeed he thought disapprovingly.
On arrival at the hospital, Flemming clambered out of the passenger side and made for general reception, stopping at a pointed cough from Dan. “Where are you going? The ER is this way.” Dan arched a brow, pointing at the sign for the emergency room.
“ER?” Flemming questioned, having the gall to look genuinely confused.
“Your head, idiot.” Dan explained as patiently as he possibly could. “There’s blood dripping down your face.”
“I don’t need the ER, I need a bathroom.” Flemming scoffed, turning back to the reception doors but was stopped by Dan again before he could take more than a step.
“You need to get checked out.” Dan insisted and, seeing the refute on the tip of his partner’s tongue, he bulldozed on with an ultimatum. “If you don’t get checked out, I’m calling the boss. I’ll get you sent home on medical leave.” The real shock and hurt that stared back at him almost made him feel bad. Almost.
“Are you for real?!” Flemming cried. “I’m fine, man.”
“Flemming, for God’s sake, you didn’t know where you were.” Dan tried to reason.
“And now I do.”
“Well excuse me if that doesn’t fill me with confidence.”
Flemming glowered at him for several seconds, the blood painting the side of his face and the flashing of passing headlights giving him a terrifying aura before he gritted his teeth and gave in. “If I go to the ER, will it get you off my back?”
“Yes.”
“And you won’t have me taken off the case?”
“Not if a doctor clears you.” Dan promised.
“Fine.”
Dan tried to suppress a triumphant smile as his grumpy partner trudged towards the ER, knowing it wouldn’t go down well with the current mood of his friend.
After flashing their badges, they didn’t have to wait long in the relatively busy ER for Flemming to be seen. The blood was cleaned from his face to reveal a rather long, nasty-looking cut stemming from his hairline and ending halfway down his forehead with the skin around already purpling into what was sure to be a livid bruise. “Do you know what he hit you with?” Dan asked softly as the nurse worked. Flemming grunted a negative sound in response, trying to suppress a grimace as the nurse poked and prodded at the cut. “It doesn’t look like it’ll need stitches. But it is a nasty cut, we’ll clean it for you and close it with some butterfly stitches. Did you lose consciousness at all?”
“He did.” Dan answered.
“For how long?”
Dan was at a loss with that question, as was Flemming. After a prolonged silence Dan took a stab in the dark. “Minutes maybe? I don’t know for sure.”
The nurse hummed. “We’ll need to do a concussion check, just to be safe.”
Flemming passed the concussion check, although Dan wasn’t sure how honest he had been when answering the questions. He wouldn’t put it past his partner to lie about his health to stay on a case. The atmosphere in the lift as they went from the ER to the intensive care unit was frosty at best. After riding in silence for the first several seconds, Dan spoke up. “I can tell you’re mad.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m just worried about you.” He pressed on despite Flemming’s attempt to shut down the conversation. The doors opened at the intensive care unit and they exited the lift, heading for the sliding doors ahead of them. “You need to take that seriously.” Dan pointed at the angry cut on his partner’s head as they walked. “I mean it, you can’t just brush it off. Head injuries aren’t to be taken lightly.”
“I’m fine.”
“Go home.” Dan suggested. “Being assaulted is serious.”
“Shut up.”
It appeared Flemming was only willing to have conversations if his end consisted of two syllables or less each time.
“Or take leave. After the trauma-”
At this Flemming whirled to face him and Dan was sure he hadn’t imagined the brief wince that fluttered across his face when he did. “I don’t want to talk about it! I lost him, and that bugs me.” Flemming growled, finally deeming to extend his responses. Dan could see Flemming was wound up and not willing to entertain the conversation further and so he switched the subject, trying to lift the tone with a joke as he prodded at the cut getting exactly the reaction he expected from his moody partner. They were quickly interrupted by the attending physician on the ward, and it was back to business and on with the case. And if Dan decided to keep a weather eye on his partner for the next while then that was his business.