Chapter 23- common bitch

TW:
-medical stuff
-cursing
-gore
-you know the drill, people, it's sad and can be a little graphic.

Not proof read, I don't think there's any errors though (please tell me if there is)

GUYS I JUST REALISED THAT EVERY TIME I WROTE "incubated" IN ANY OF MY BOOKS MY AUTOCORRECT DECIDED I MEANT "incubated" AND I COMPLETELY MISSED IT-
WHA-
HOW-

JOHN'S POV

We all drove down to the police station, thankful that no one had even got the chance to finish their drink before the first package had arrived.

I'm pretty sure we're all over the speed limit, only by a little.

We pulled into the car park and sprinted into the police station, bursting through the doors in unison to create one loud 'boom'.

"We need to see someone, now." I spat, already offended by the woman who sat lazily behind the desk, rolling her eyes at my stark tone.

"Sir, were very busy right now. If you could take a seat over there someone will be with you soon." She drawled, speaking as if she'd been put into slow motion or speaking to a child.

"No. I will not sit. We need to see someone. NOW. This is urgent." I fought back, raising my voice slightly and attracting the attention of some other officers.

"Sir, if you-"

"They can come with me, Lisa." A tall, dark skinned man mused.

"Come now." He instructed kindly. We followed him through the station until we reached a plain, boring room of white washed walls and a metal table and chairs.

"Don't mind Lisa, she's just some common bitch." He laughed, eyes crinkling slightly in amusement. "Now, what can I do for you?"

(PLEASE SAY PEOPLE CAUGHT THAT-)

"We're here to report a kidnapping, my son. We've been sent these images of him, along with these items." Washington held out a box of the deliveries.

"Is this..." The man trailed off, holding up the fragment of Alexander's tail with his blue latex gloves.

"It's the end of his tail. A hybrid." Washington informed and we all held our breath, unsure of what the mans opinion of the species is.

"Oh, relax all, my husband, Kevin, is actually a hybrid himself. I'm Captain Holt, Raymond Holt." We all sighed in unison, relaxing into our chairs more comfortably.

"Peralta! Santiago! Jeffords! Diaz! Boyle!" He called and four other detectives ran in, dressed in business causal outfits with their police badges hung on a chain around their neck- guns safety posted on their belts.

"Get ready, we're on a manhunt."

"SIR! I'M COMING TOO!"

"Of course you are, Gina." He smirked, as though looking at a camera in a cool show.

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(TiMe SkIp brought to you by Greys anatomy. I just watched season 6 episode 1. If you watch it, you understand my pain.😔✌️)

The manhunt has been going on for about a month, they've been finding little to no clues as to where he is. Captain Holt hasn't given up hope though, he's still optimistic.

I'm sat in the Washington's spare bedroom, staring at the wall, the images that were delivered to us engraved in the back of my mind. We've been sent more since, one every two days. They only get worse and worse.

I can hear the hum of the TV downstairs, probably some medical drama that the Washington's have a preference for.

Suddenly my phone starts ringing. I pull it out of my pocket and swipe the answer bar.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mr Laurens?"

"Yes this is him." I frown, unsure as to who would address me with such formality.

"We need you to come down to the ER, now. It's urgent, Mr Laurens."

"Did you... did you find him?" I plead in disbelief.

"That is something we'll have to discuss when you get down here."

"O-okay I'm on my way." I hastily stand up, toeing my shoes on and jumping down the stairs.

"GEORGE! MARTHA! WE GOTTA GO TO THE HOSPITAL!" I scream, both of them sprinting out of the family room. Without hesitation they both ran to the car,  snatching the keys from the rack

Soon we're speeding off down the road.

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We rush into the ER in a flurry of movement, emotions running high.

"Can I h-"

"I was called to come here, John Laurens."

"Right this way, Mr Laurens." A dark skinned, petite woman directed us. Her name tag read 'Doctor Bailey'.

"They found your friend, he's not in a good state I'm afraid. He's currently intubated so we can monitor his bodily functions, we're trying to keep his temperature at optimum but it appears he's running a nasty fever." She explains, pushing open a door to a small private room. The curtains are drawn, beeping eluding from behind the disposable material. Everyone holds their breath, the doctor  gesturing for us to step behind the curtain.

I pull it back and slip through, eyes closed, unsure of what awaits me. I take a deep breath and force myself to open my eyes, looking at the beautiful mess that is Alexander Hamilton.

He has a tube coming from his throat, his leg is elevated and cast, a black eye framed his face and one of his ears has been sliced at the end. His hospital gown saves us from seeing anything else, and only now did I realise that tears were running down my cheeks. I overhear Mr and Mrs Washington speaking with a man, presumably a doctor, on the other side of the curtain.

"Alexander was found at around 4:15 this morning, it took a long time for us to get him stable enough to sustain family. He's breathing through an oxygen tube right now, though his PET scan results seems optimistic that he'll have no lasting brain damage. Dr Yang did an ECG of his heart and everything seems fine for now, it's simply just a waiting game I'm afraid." The doctor explained. I'm sure I know his voice from somewhere...

I sit beside Alexander and take his hand gently, rubbing circles into the back of his palm. The curtain is drawn and both the Washington's and the doctor step in. I recognise him at once.

"Derek?" I ask in slight wonder, glad to know that Alexander was in such great hands.

"Hello, John. How've you been holding up?" He asks sympathetically, looking at mine and Alexander's hands clasped together momentarily.

"Well with him gone... I dunno."

"Do Vanessa and Usnavi know that he's back?"

"No."

"Would you like me to tell them?"

"Please."

"That's okay, me and Meredith are going over for dinner tonight, Chinese. I'll give them a call in a minute." He assures, patting my shoulder affectionately.

"Thank you, Doctor Shepherd." He nods and moves towards Alexander, pulling back his eyelids and shining a light in both of his eyes. His brow furrows slightly and he repeats the action.

"Is-is something wrong?" Martha asks hesitantly, concern etched into her features.

"I'm not sure, his pupils aren't as reactive as I'd like but that may be due to a concussion, I'll come back in ten minutes and see how we're doing." He soothes, unsure of the answer that he should provide.

Shepherd leaves the room, the silence resumes- only the ear piercing screeches of Alexander's heart monitor remain. I raise my head, eyes meeting both George and Martha's downturned faces, their expressions failing none of their grief. A single tear rolls down Martha's plump cheeks, before a wave of emotion overcomes her and more tears flood her vision. George pulls her to him protectively, love and warmth radiating as he plants a soft kiss on her scalp, whispering reassurances into her ear quietly.

I remain still, hand tracing intricate designs into Alexander's natural tan skin.

Little did we know that the calm would only last for a few more hours.

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