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Nov. 14th, 2005 12:17 am[ooc: Video clip, click on catch up clip at the top of the page. Dialogue taken from Casualty]
It was a moment of madness, a split second loss of concentration. But emotionally justifiable.
"Father please."
"I have nothing to say to you. You disgraced the family name, and broke your mother's heart."
Jas opens the car door and turns away. Guppy holds onto the top of the door.
"If I could just come home and explain my point of view..."
Jas looks at him coldly.
"Your point of view, huh, is irrelevant because you're not part of my family. I meant it when I said that I disowned you."
Guppy moves his fingers in time before the door shuts. His one chance to catch his father at work gone. He watches the car drive off and finds himself face to face with someone he really wishes wasn't there.
Lee grins sadistically.
"Well if it isn't my old mate."
The horrible feeling of adrenaline kicks in, but he keeps his face neutral. He turns to walk away...
And comes face to face with the rest of the gang. About six of them in total. Not just ordinary men either. They look like the Holby City rugby squad, and surround him on all sides.
At which point he knows he doesn't stand a chance. All he can hope to do is stall them until someone comes by, and hopefully attract attention. He raises his voice.
"I warned you the other day."
Lee smirks.
"Ooh, I'm scared."
Guppy raises his voice further, anger in his tone now in the vague hope of somebody noticing.
"You shouldn't be allowed to get away with bullying other people."
Nobody is coming. Nobody is looking. People are pretending not to notice. Lee's grin widens.
"There's nothing fair in this world is there?"
A split second after the headbutt hits, everything goes black.
***
Cold. Pain. Wet. Pain. PAIN. PAIN. PAIN. Cold.
Guppy opens his eyes, feeling the sting of cold gravel on his cheek. The first thing he sees is red.
At this point he realises the wetness in his hair and on his face is a pool of his own blood.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit
He slowly moves one hand and feels down the back of his neck and back. Twice. Only when he's satisfied that he has no spinal injuries does he move the rest of his body, each muscle aching horribly as he moves. It doesn't take much to make him feel dizzy under normal circumstances. Alcohol and total exhaustion are both known to have the effect. As does blood loss. The blood trickles down his neck as he moves his head to sit up, and he sits taking deep breaths for a minute to try and keep himself conscious. He shivers in the cold November air and puts his hand to his face, finding it covered in blood.
It is perhaps a measure of his total confusion that when he finally manages to stand up, he walks stiffly away from the hospital. It is dark, but he isn't lost. Concentrating on keeping upright and defying the little black spots in front of his eyes, he heads instead for a phone booth.
I want my mum. She'll know what to do.
The little black spots get bigger and bigger as he reaches for the handle, leaving a bloody handprint. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to open it. He steps in, watching a drop of blood fall onto the bar floor between the consuming black spots, before the blackness fills the spaces and he crashes down onto the floor below.
It was a moment of madness, a split second loss of concentration. But emotionally justifiable.
"Father please."
"I have nothing to say to you. You disgraced the family name, and broke your mother's heart."
Jas opens the car door and turns away. Guppy holds onto the top of the door.
"If I could just come home and explain my point of view..."
Jas looks at him coldly.
"Your point of view, huh, is irrelevant because you're not part of my family. I meant it when I said that I disowned you."
Guppy moves his fingers in time before the door shuts. His one chance to catch his father at work gone. He watches the car drive off and finds himself face to face with someone he really wishes wasn't there.
Lee grins sadistically.
"Well if it isn't my old mate."
The horrible feeling of adrenaline kicks in, but he keeps his face neutral. He turns to walk away...
And comes face to face with the rest of the gang. About six of them in total. Not just ordinary men either. They look like the Holby City rugby squad, and surround him on all sides.
At which point he knows he doesn't stand a chance. All he can hope to do is stall them until someone comes by, and hopefully attract attention. He raises his voice.
"I warned you the other day."
Lee smirks.
"Ooh, I'm scared."
Guppy raises his voice further, anger in his tone now in the vague hope of somebody noticing.
"You shouldn't be allowed to get away with bullying other people."
Nobody is coming. Nobody is looking. People are pretending not to notice. Lee's grin widens.
"There's nothing fair in this world is there?"
A split second after the headbutt hits, everything goes black.
***
Cold. Pain. Wet. Pain. PAIN. PAIN. PAIN. Cold.
Guppy opens his eyes, feeling the sting of cold gravel on his cheek. The first thing he sees is red.
At this point he realises the wetness in his hair and on his face is a pool of his own blood.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit
He slowly moves one hand and feels down the back of his neck and back. Twice. Only when he's satisfied that he has no spinal injuries does he move the rest of his body, each muscle aching horribly as he moves. It doesn't take much to make him feel dizzy under normal circumstances. Alcohol and total exhaustion are both known to have the effect. As does blood loss. The blood trickles down his neck as he moves his head to sit up, and he sits taking deep breaths for a minute to try and keep himself conscious. He shivers in the cold November air and puts his hand to his face, finding it covered in blood.
It is perhaps a measure of his total confusion that when he finally manages to stand up, he walks stiffly away from the hospital. It is dark, but he isn't lost. Concentrating on keeping upright and defying the little black spots in front of his eyes, he heads instead for a phone booth.
I want my mum. She'll know what to do.
The little black spots get bigger and bigger as he reaches for the handle, leaving a bloody handprint. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to open it. He steps in, watching a drop of blood fall onto the bar floor between the consuming black spots, before the blackness fills the spaces and he crashes down onto the floor below.
