Bruce sighed. "You think they'll will fire you? I doubt it, I'm pretty sure you're one of their best cops. Besides if you're sick you shouldn't be driving."
Dick sighed and grabbed his keys. "I'll be fine," he said once again. "See you later."
—
Dick sat at his desk with his head hung. He took measured breaths, trying to suppress the nausea that seemed to be constantly swirling around him. His head hurt worse than any migraine he'd ever had, almost as if it were slowly splitting apart.
"Come on Grayson, time for patrol," officer Bentley said, slapping Dick on the back.
Dick groaned as he slid off the chair he'd been sitting on and followed his partner out to their patrol car.
Bentley slid into the driver's seat and started the car, pulling out of the BPD parking lot and onto the street.
As they continued to drive Dick hung his head again. He was nauseous... really nauseous.
"You alright?" Bentley asked.
Dick didn't answer. He could tell he was breathing much too fast, and his forehead was beaded with sweat.
"Grayson?" Bentley asked, pulling onto a less busy road and looking for an empty spot on the curb where they could pull over.
Black spots danced in Dick's vision, and after a few seconds he fell forward limply, being caught by the seatbelt before he could hit the car's dashboard.
Bentley heard the sound of the seatbelt pulling tight and stopped the car and jumped out. He quickly rushed to Dick's side and pulled him into his arms.
—
Dick woke up on the sidewalk. He was lying on his back with the police cruiser's spare tire under his legs to prop them up.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Bentley said, trying to disguise just how relieved he really was.
"Wha... What happened?" Dick asked, wincing when his head throbbed.
Bentley moved into Dick's line of vision. "I think you just passed out," he said.
"Oh..."
"I'm going to need you to tell me what's wrong," Bentley said.
Dick was silent for a moment. "My head hurts," he finally whispered, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. "It hurts so much... I-I don't know what's h-happening." Dick whimpered and grabbed his head as his own words made spikes of pain shoot through his skull.
"Shh," Bentley shushed. "It'll be alright. I'll take you back to your apartment and tell chief you got sick or something."
"O-ok," Dick muttered, rubbing at his neck that suddenly felt slightly sore and stiff.
—
Dick laid on the couch, not being able to muster up enough energy to get up and move to his bed.
It had been several hours after Officer Bentley had returned him to his apartment, and he could feel that something was probably wrong... and not just a little wrong, but very wrong.
Silence P1
Start from the beginning
