Dal was still shivering, but it didn't stop him from cringing at every touch from the paramedics. Even the most basic things, like getting his pulse and blood pressure, brought the fear in his eyes into sharp relief. They must have radioed ahead because, as Gabriel requested, they had an interpreter there to help Dal through whatever exams and tests needed to be done.
Once they were there, Dal was silent, mostly just staring off and keeping his hand clenched in Gabriel's sleeve. He fought when they tried to swap out Gabriel's coat for a hospital gown. The compromise ended up being to let him have the coat back after they finally got him to change. After that, he fell silent, simply nodding whenever the interpreter spoke. And after a few uneventful hours, they discharged him with a warning to come back if he experienced any number of a list of symptoms in the next 72-hours.
He was still shaking.
By the time they let him leave, someone (probably from Gabriel's team) brought some clothes: a set of sweats that were a little too big. They weren't Dal's clothes, and at some later time he would be grateful that some stranger hadn't been rifling through what little he had at his apartment. He just hoped to get his own clothes back at some point. It didn't occur to him at the time, in his detached state of mind, that they were evidence now.
Had he let go of Gabriel's sleeve at all the entire time? Probably not and his hand ached from that vise-like grip he kept. There would be questions; from the FBI, maybe from the police, too. He didn't think about any of that. Dal felt stuck in that moment when he'd gasped in the first mouthful of water, then later when he felt his head get light and his body going weak and his vision started to darken. A few more seconds...
He remained silent until they were in the warmth of Gabriel's car, the heat blasting on him as he continued to shake. It was fear. Real and true fear. Then finally, "... can I stay with you?"
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Once they were there, Dal was silent, mostly just staring off and keeping his hand clenched in Gabriel's sleeve. He fought when they tried to swap out Gabriel's coat for a hospital gown. The compromise ended up being to let him have the coat back after they finally got him to change. After that, he fell silent, simply nodding whenever the interpreter spoke. And after a few uneventful hours, they discharged him with a warning to come back if he experienced any number of a list of symptoms in the next 72-hours.
He was still shaking.
By the time they let him leave, someone (probably from Gabriel's team) brought some clothes: a set of sweats that were a little too big. They weren't Dal's clothes, and at some later time he would be grateful that some stranger hadn't been rifling through what little he had at his apartment. He just hoped to get his own clothes back at some point. It didn't occur to him at the time, in his detached state of mind, that they were evidence now.
Had he let go of Gabriel's sleeve at all the entire time? Probably not and his hand ached from that vise-like grip he kept. There would be questions; from the FBI, maybe from the police, too. He didn't think about any of that. Dal felt stuck in that moment when he'd gasped in the first mouthful of water, then later when he felt his head get light and his body going weak and his vision started to darken. A few more seconds...
He remained silent until they were in the warmth of Gabriel's car, the heat blasting on him as he continued to shake. It was fear. Real and true fear. Then finally, "... can I stay with you?"