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Getting injured on a case is pretty standard procedure. Same with getting knocked unconscious, and following up with getting kidnapped. It's all so bog-standard that Dirk can run a mental checklist to make sure things are on track for success. Or do a drinking game- but being drunk on a case is incredibly unprofessional, and Dirk considers himself a very professional professional in the realm of private detecting.
So, knocked unconscious- check. He vaguely remembers sudden pain in the back of his head before blacking out.
Kidnapped? Well, having a fair look around- he hasn't the faintest idea where the hell this is. A building, of the long-abandoned kind. Looks extremely nowhere-y from a glance out the window, so safe to assume the bad guys took him here against his will. So, check.
Injured? Now that his brain is more awake, yep, there's the aftermath of pain from being thumped on the head. And, right, an unbelievable amount of pain in his leg. Gunshot. Typical. Honestly, his body should start building up a resistance to bullets at this point.
But regardless, triple check.
He heaves himself upright- at least he wasn't tied up, or tied to something this time. Maybe with this injury they decided not to bother. That's a start- a terrible one, but there's worse things in the world. Being in Blackwing for one. Just Blackwing for all things bad.
He winces from the flare of pain running up his leg, bracing himself on a table. His memory is foggy, but is he alone? That doesn't feel right... was he just ditched here? Wasn't he...
he was with Todd. They were investigating. Team A, the Investigate Team- "we don't have teams, Dirk." Todd had huffed yet again- means him and Todd investigate, because that's Dirk's thing and Todd is very good at solving puzzles. Farah's good at them too, but she prefers working with guns and protecting and defending. Team B- him and her, the Strike Team- "we don't need teams, Dirk. And if we did, you can't be in both." Farah had reminded him yet again.
She's been collecting information for the case elsewhere, so no striking needed, leaving him and Todd for their side of investigation-y things. Then things went really incredibly wrong and now Dirk's alone, injured and has no idea where Todd is, where he is, or if Farah knows where he is.
Ignoring the growing fears, he limps towards the window. Now having a better view for the outside world, he can surmise he is not on the ground floor and there's a lot of expanse of land with no other buildings. It's like Bergsberg, but with even less houses. As in, none at all.
Not great. Dirk worries his lip, he might be a lot more trapped than he wants to admit. But he's a detective, so he should put that to use. Lets detect the house. Some type of base or hide-out and there's barely anything else. Good to know.
This is terrible.
He hobbles to the door, hoping there's a phone or anything in this place that might provide help. But as he touches the handle, he hears sounds. Bad ones. Violent ones.
He staggers away from the door, looking for somewhere to hide, but this is an open space territory. Maybe the table? No, the gap underneath is huge.
Someone's thundering up the stairs.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh-
The door bursts open with a dramatic flourish and Todd Brotzman stumbles inside, the most relieving sight Dirk's ever seen. Todd looks around, eyes bright and wide with mania, but when he lands on Dirk, the intensity simmers down.
"Oh shit, Dirk!" He dashes over, sweeping Dirk into a hug. "You're here!"
Dirk hisses from the pain, but hugs back tight.
"Wait- oh my God, Dirk, your leg!" Todd gasps, pulling back. "Oh shit- are you okay?"
"As well as I can with a gunshot in the leg. I'm mostly upright and I'm speaking at my usual rate." Dirk replies. "What- what about you? How did you get here? Were you always...?"
"Woke up here- I was downstairs. Guess I was knocked out- I don't really remember." He winces, and Dirk spots a litter of bruises peppering his jaw, and dipping lower to his collarbones. "They roughed me up, but I'm fine. Better than you."
"Why was only I shot? I doubt I was the one rough-housing. No offense."
"Be glad it was just one of us. C'mon, can you walk? You can lean on me. I don't think there's much use in this house, so let's just find a way out of here."
Privately, Dirk quite enjoys when Todd gets all practical and no-nonsense, controlling the situation with surprising amount of ease. And this current situation is not helping his crush, and it's not a great time for having it hit in full-force. Still, he allows Todd to loop an arm around his shoulder, and just hopes he can't feel the growing heat, as he places his other hand on Dirk's waist.
They walk as fast as two can in this scenario. That's when Dirk catches a glint on Todd's hand.
"Why do you have the knuckle duster on?"
"We aren't alone in here. Some goonie was still here, but I dealt with him." Todd replies. "He might wake soon, so let's like, get a decent head-start at least."
"Wish I could've seen that." Dirk says, without really thinking.
"What?"
Blush spreads over his cheeks. "I like when you fight. Physically. Or with your words. Both are... both are very cool."
"Really? Your reactions to the Rowdy 3 suggest you don't like fighting."
"Well, they do it to scare me. You do it to defend me- that's an expeditiously huge difference."
It's also incredibly attractive when you fight. He doesn't add.
Todd hums. "Yeah, okay, fair. Makes sense." They're at the bottom of the stairs now. "It's a miracle they didn't check to see if we had any weapons on us. Which is a surprisingly common occurrence. Does that say something about us?"
"Says more about them, I think." Dirk shrugs. "Todd, I might need a second." He hastily adds, suddenly drained.
"Okay, but we really shouldn't stay too long. D'you need to sit? There aren't any chairs- it'll have to be on the floor."
"I can lean."
"I'll check on the dude- make sure he doesn't wake. And, uh... probably check to make sure he doesn't have a gun."
"You didn't check?"
"I'm checking now!"
Dirk huffs, but isn't too upset. It's not like he would've thought to check, either. He keeps weight off his injured side, whilst Todd does a quick scope of the place. It's not any worse than when he got shot in Blackwing, but that doesn't mean he's thrilled. Another scar to add to the growing list.
"Yeah, he had a gun. Our gun now." Todd announces with his return. "And a phone. There's no signal, but we can use it when we get to somewhere with one. Get to a hospital."
"How... are we going to get out of here?"
Todd resumes their position. "Hopefully there's a car we can steal. Although, I didn't see any keys."
"That isn't making me feel good."
"Farah taught me how to hot-wire. Don't panic, Dirk. We'll be okay."
"You're such an optimist."
"One of us has to be."
The sun is high in the sky, when they step foot outside.
Probably only been kidnapped for a couple hours. Dirk guesses. Or it's actually been several days.
Highly unlikely, so that fear is quickly shoved out of his mind. But, Dirk's other fears are confirmed.
"There's no car, Todd." He says, voice wavering. "We're trapped here."
"Hang on." Todd eases him gently against the wall. "Let me have a look around."
"That feels a little pointless." Dirk tries not to be as dark and depressing as he use to be, but situations like these make it unbelievably difficult.
Todd squeezes his arm. "The Universe won't let you die. I won't let you die, okay? I'm gonna find something."
The blush flares back up, from the sheer determination staring back at him. "Okay."
Todd grins with a steely nod, before jogging off to investigate around the corner.
Dirk sighs, leaning heavily against the brick. He won't lie, Todd gives him a sense of hope he so scarcely felt in his twenties and younger. That unwavering hope is a terrifying wildfire, one that Dirk can't help but admire. Or be totally awestruck by.
Maybe just Todd in general is what he's awestruck by. It's impossible not to be. He's brave enough to admit that he's quite taken. Emotionally, that is. They aren't dating and Todd has never given any indication he's interested. It's fine, Dirk's not complaining. Having Todd in his life is a thrill in itself.
The unexpected sound of an engine revving, almost has him jumping like a flea, but the jolt of pain in his leg keeps him anchored. Did Todd find something? Or- oh shit- are there other guys here? Did they come back?
A motorcycle rolls into view. For a brief second Dirk has no idea of the rider, but then the clothes spark recognition.
"Todd?" He stammers.
Todd removes the helmet. That, combined with the fact he is on a motorcycle and the denim of his jeans is stretching over his thighs, as they sit slightly spread over the saddle, is making his brain function on the setting of stupid. Because, holy shit. The lust-levels he has for Todd have suddenly gone into hyperdrive.
"I found this- there were two of them." Todd says, unnecessarily. "One probably belongs to the guy. But, I mean, we've already taken his gun and phone, so might as well. This one has more space at the back."
He tosses the spare helmet at Dirk.
Dirk's brain is still lodged on 'Todd is on a motorcycle and looks super insanely hot'. "I- uhm..."
"Do you need help getting on? There's space behind me, there should be enough."
"No!" He squeaks, shuffling over. It's more challenging without the support of Todd, but he doesn't want Todd to get off the bike at all. "I just... you can ride that?"
"Used to own one." Todd shrugs, apparently oblivious to how he looks right now. Dirk wants to throw the damn helmet at him from the sheer audacity of it all.
Used to own one? The mental images flooding Dirk's brain are slowly murdering him. How has this never cropped up?
"Dirk, can you, like... get on the damn bike?"
"Right, sorry."
With a mental brace, Dirk swings his injured leg over the saddle, settling behind Todd. He tries to muffle his hiss of pain, but Todd hears.
"Shit, you okay?"
"I'll be fine."
"It's dangerous as all hell to be doing this with a gunshot wound, but we have no other options. If you need me stop, please let me know." Todd says, as he tugs the helmet back on. "I mean it. Don't downplay shit."
Dirk too, pulls his own helmet on. He feels a little claustrophobic, but some brief discomfort is leagues better than being stuck here. "What should I...?"
Now he's sitting behind Todd, and his own thighs are bracketing Todd's hips, as if this is just some regular old dillydally of stupid, flighty bullshit. This is insane. It's not real- he's becoming delirious from the pain or something, because in what world can this be reality? This is a killer dream. Killing him specifically with specific fantasies he didn't know he had.
"Hold onto me." Todd instructs.
Dirk's brain is going to fizzle and die. He awkwardly grabs at Todd's jacket. Todd huffs.
"Dude, no. Actually like-"
Dirk tries not to pathetically squeak, as Todd grabs his wrists and places them firmly on his waist. Now, Dirk's entire chest is flush against his back. At least he didn't tell him to wrap his arms around him- that may have been a successful slain.
"Good?" Todd asks.
"Y-yeah!"
"Hold on."
If it wasn't for being so aware of the pain in his leg and the fact he is running on a lot of stress, the whole motorcycle experience could easily be described as exhilarating. It still is exactly that- he could feel the vibrations of the bike, the whip of the winds. They shoot down the road, that's thankfully straight for the majority of the journey. The idea of having to hold on whilst turning makes him nervous.
Dirk's grip on Todd is tight, partially out of fear of falling off, but mostly because of the whole basically-being-molded-against-him, and he is both shocked and undeniably thankful his body didn't make it obvious just how much he went stir-crazy from it. He can cross 'Riding with Todd on a motorcycle' off of his bucket list- he didn't even know he had that one on his list. But new things get added everyday and they tend to be some variant of Todd involvement.
He can't deny though, it's a wild sensation. Not one he plans on forgetting any time soon. Todd drives the bike with total ease, and Dirk knows he isn't lying about riding one before. It's scary how much he realises he has total trust in Todd- and Todd likewise, had total trust in him on being a good passenger.
Eventually, they reach civilisation, and Todd drives until they reach a hospital.
And now they're here. The gunshot wound is a clean shot, so Dirk's resting up, ready to be discharged very soon. Todd's had a check-up too- deemed mostly fine, faring far better than Dirk, unsurprisingly. He's currently finishing up a phone-call with Farah. Dirk's only been able to catch bits and pieces of the conversation.
"Okay, cool. See you in a few." He's saying, using the stolen phone. They need to replace their phones again- their old ones lasted two months which is a new record.
"Farah will be here soon. And then, we can go home when you get discharged." He informs Dirk. "Man, I am exhausted, I'm glad I don't have to drive this time."
"What about the bike?"
"What about it? It's not ours. We can just leave it here- someone else's problem."
"Oh..."
"Oh? Dirk, it's stolen- I stole that. Just like," he lowers his voice. "I just used a stolen phone and just disposed of a stolen gun. I'm trying to not get back into the habit of theft."
Well, fair. Encouraging the worst sides of Todd should be discouraged, but Dirk's never been the biggest stickler of good morals.
Plus it results in discovering things about Todd that are hot. Which is always a bonus.
"Well, it didn't belong to a particularity good person, so it could count as fine, right? Definitely counts."
"Dude." Todd shakes his head, leaning back on his chair. "Priorities."
"Did you seriously used to own one?"
"Yep."
"And you... got rid of it?"
Todd folds his arms over his chest. "Amanda. It was safer getting her to places in a car, y'know?"
Dirk deflates, guiltily. "Sorry for asking."
"It's fine." He hums, a little wistful. "I do miss riding. It was, despite y'know, the fear of death and all that shit, so fun. I forgot how amazing it feels to ride on an open road. I used to like, drive my band-mates insane, cause I kept fucking around. Until, yeah. I fucked them over for real."
"You could," Dirk wheedles. "Start up on it again. You have the money and no band-mates to annoy."
"I have you to annoy now and somehow, I suspect you're gonna be way worse about it."
In hindsight, Dirk probably should've realised that he is running his mouth a little too hard. He can blame the painkillers.
"I wouldn't be suggesting it if I was worried about annoyances. Honestly, your other annoyances will vastly outweigh motorcycling, trust me. Plus, you could invest a leather jacket. Like a proper biker jacket, because you'd be a biker. I'll get you one, even."
Todd in a biker jacket is doing all sorts of things to his brain. He needs it to become a reality, with extreme urgency.
"Why do you want me to-" Todd raises a brow. "Why are you so fixated on this?"
Dirk blushes and unfortunately, Todd is giving him heavy scrutiny.
"I- oh my God, are you like, into this shit?"
"I've suddenly decided we should stop talking now."
"No, hell no. We stay talking. I never pegged you as a motorcycle guy."
"Because I'm not." Dirk protests.
"You literally have been insisting-"
"Not because of that. It's more specific."
Something in Todd's eyes tells Dirk that he knows. That it's clicked in his head why Dirk's sudden interest in motorcycles. But he wants that confirmation.
Well, Dirk may potentially lose his best friend, but...
"It's you. You were- are- infuriatingly attractive when on that motorcycle. The fact you know how to ride one and when you grabbed my hands to put them on your waist and the way your jeans-"
A hand on his mouth stops him. Todd's cheeks are pink, but the look in his eyes has morphed into something devious.
"Dude, we are a little public right now." He says, a little breathless. He lowers his hand.
"It's the painkillers. They're quite strong and it's making me say nonsense words nonsensically." Dirk's struggling to read Todd, and that's terrifying.
"Mmm... sure, buddy. Painkillers don't make you a liar." Todd tilts his head. "You really mean it, though? The reasons you're liking that is cause of uhm, me?"
He nods, the tiniest of nods. He's more than a little scared of the response, but he needs to be brave. And...
Todd's expression relaxes into a pleased grin. "That's actually like, kind of awesome. Because same? Not the motorcycle riding thing, I dunno how you look on a bike, but the feelings side of things. It's... pretty much mutual, man."
Dirk's brain short-circuits.
"I- really? What?"
"I think you're hot. I mean, I think you're incredible and I've kinda wanted to be in your business all the time for like, ages. Romance-wise, specifically."
Dirk hadn't even expected Todd to like him like that, let alone be so bold about it.
"O-oh, I see..." Dirk will not let Todd have him the frazzled one. Not anymore than he already has. "We should do something about that then, shouldn't we?"
"Sounds like a plan." Todd leans in, heavy-lidded. "And later, when we're alone, you're more than welcome to tell me everything you enjoyed about me riding a motorcycle. Get as detailed as you want. Extreme detail."
Goddammit, he's winning the frazzle competition. Dirk covers his burning face. "I hate you."
"Starting to think you really don't. Hey," Todd gently pries his hands away. "I'll think about getting a motorcycle. No promises, but I really do miss riding. And, well. You like it."
"Really?"
"Yeah," the tip of his tongue peeks through his teeth. "and maybe if I do, we could-"
At that point, Farah walks in and takes her all of two seconds to clock something's happened between them and another three seconds to decide she doesn't need- nor want- to know the details.