Mister Mysterious And His Time Engine {English} [Finished]

Part I - Chapter IV - The Very Best Agent Of The FBI

Again, Carter awoke with a pounding headache behind his forehead. Something he did a little too much recently, he reckoned. Maybe this was going to become an all-day-thing. He could get used to it. Maybe.

Then again, Carter never really liked the word 'maybe'. It was too vague for his liking. He needed clarification, a plan, something he could count on. A 'maybe' wasn't something like that.

Angus also wasn't something he could count on. When he noticed that though, it was already too late and he was in the middle of everything. Without anyone he could count on.

And he hated that.

He also hated that constant headache and just like that, he was at the beginning of his thoughts again.

Carefully, he sat up, supporting his weight with his hands. He sat on concrete, again. Also something he reckoned happened way too often the past few days.

Pain shot up from his right hand and into his shoulder and he drew in a sharp breath of air, now only leaning on his left hand instead. He frowned at the injury and the dried blood around it--how long had he been passed out? When his head started spinning, he rather worried about having a concussion and he was at the brim of passing out once more. Leaning forward, he held his head with his other, uninjured, hand and took a few, deep breaths until his eyes finally focused.

The wound was even worse than he thought it was.

Carter's entire hand had gone blue, purple, and red. Cursing under his breath, he rolled his sleeve up and thought he'd faint and/or vomit when he saw that the bruise stretched all over his arm to his elbow and almost reached his shoulder.

Taking another few, deep breaths, his gaze wandered and he spotted a person, lying on their side with their back facing him on the pavement. Next to them lay a motorbike and a bag, a bit of steam dissolving in the air above. Only when he had looked at them for a certain time did he realize who it was and he quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Angus!" He yelled, rushing over to them. The concrete was wet from the rain and so was Carter's hair and clothing--had he been lying in the rain? The sole on his shoes was way too slippery and for a second, he felt like a dog on wet tiles before he could finally sprint forward.

While the short, black-haired, rather ridiculous guy struggled with walking, Angus turned with a groan of agony so they lay on their back.

"Angus! God, are you still alive?" Carter shouted, panic now really kicking in and he got another groan instead of an actual response. In the next second, he fell to the ground but, fortunately for both of them, right next to his companion.

With a choked back groan, Angus squinted against the sun before opening their eyes properly. They didn't seem to quite see anything hence their eyes jumping from point to point and the dull layer over their iris.

For a second, Carter was worried they'd gone blind.

In the next, they frowned up at him. "Carter?"

"Yeah, exactly," he said quickly, nodding, sighing out in relief, "can you get up?"

This was a rather stupid question hence Carter couldn't even walk a single step, himself.

When he reached out, Angus backed away, "don't touch me," they said, their voice calm but their eyes screamed panic, "don't! Stay exactly where you are!" Reaching for their gun, they whimpered when they accidentally touched the wound on their chest. With their eyes squeezed shut, they choked back a sob.

And Carter, well, he was even more confused than he had been before. Carefully, he reached out once more. "I'm not going to hurt you, Angus. It's me, Carter, remember?"