WHO: Seth and Henry Wadcock!
WHAT: An attempted kidnapping!
WHERE: W.Q.W. pre-event venue
WHEN: Today!



While Seth loved W.Q.W., he really disliked having to set up for events. He wished that he could just show up and do his part with the kids like a majority of the other players did, but being the co-founder of an organization that was mostly based on volunteers meant having to sometimes do the grunt work yourself. Which wasn’t completely terrible, but having to drag in tables and set them up super early after having a late practice and staying up all night because Leanne was at that age where nightmares were more common than not really sucked.

He looked at his watch wondering where his brother had gone off to as he smoothed out the tablecloth on the last table he set up. He said he was just going to speak with the venue’s contact person really quick and be right back. Seth was about to call bullshit on that, being as he had conveniently disappeared for the entire time Seth was setting up the room.

“Merlin, its about time you got back. For a minute I thought you were going to leave me to set up the goal posts on my own too. Jackass,” Seth called, hearing the door to the gym open again. He continued on when he didn’t hear a response. “Henrietta, are you in a moody mood already? It’s not even---”

“Shut up and hand over your wand.”

Seth brows rose as he looked over his shoulder to find two strangers standing there, apparently attempting to rob him or something. He was most certainly not in the mood for this nonsense.

“Look man, I don’t have any money on me. This is a charity event,” he said turning to face them, only to have a gun (Merlin’s pants that was a gun and how in the hell was this happening again) shoved into his chest.

“We aren’t looking for money. You are going to come with us, Mr. Wadcock.”

Seth frowned at the use of his name as he tried to think of some way out of this situation. He didn’t know how they got in there in the first place if they were muggle, or why the one had a gun if they weren’t, but he did know that there was no way in hell he was going to get shot again. Nor was he going to go anywhere with these two crazy fucks, not without a fight.

“Yea, that’s not going to happen,” he said snidely before swiftly punching the guy holding the gun to his chest across the jaw. Seth took the opportunity to knock the weapon from the man’s hand while he was disoriented, but that didn’t last for long before the would be kidnapper was fighting back and Seth was slowly gaining upper hand.

Seth was too focused on the fight to pay any attention to anything other than the man that was currently matching him blow for blow. So he barely heard the door open or the exchange of words. He didn’t hear anything until a gunshot rang out through the gym. It felt like time froze as he dropped his hold on the guys shirt. His heart raced as he absently patted down his own chest. There was blood covering his hands but Seth wasn’t sure where it came from. He didn’t remember much of the last time he got shot but for some reason he thought there would be more blood. That it would hurt more. He looked up to find the other goon had picked up the discarded gun, but he couldn’t figure out what just happened or what was going on because nothing with this picture made any sense. The guy was not pointing the gun at him at all, he was facing the door, which didn’t make any sense and Seth felt like he was missing something important in this picture.

He had been avoiding doing the heavy lifting. Henry had most certainly spoken to the manager of the venue, but that had been a simple two minute conversation. He’d slowly made his way back to the main event area, stopping to look at some of the photographs that hung on the wall. They should really consider a headquarters for W.Q.W., one that wasn’t Seth’s ‘home office’ that was more often than not a place to store unnecessary furniture and old trophies he hadn’t found time to display. They could hang photographs of the events, of Seth during his matches and then with the children, it would really be far more professional than having conferences in the living room of either of their homes---

“What the hell?!” Henry gaped at the fight that was currently going on. Of course his brother was in the middle of it! He did not recognize the other men, and they certainly were not in the uniforms he’d seen other employees of the venue wearing and----

It was a jolt, it was a sudden stab to the stomach that completely silenced any sounds that may have been reverberating off the walls. Henry had heard the loud bang, but hadn’t been given a second to react to it before the pain struck him hard. He blinked furiously, his stance wavering in the doorway of the room; why was everything spinning? His hands pressed to his stomach, where it hurt the most, and he struggled to let out a sound at the feeling of something wet, something warm---Henry dropped his chin to his chest---it was becoming increasingly harder to keep his head up---and saw that his once pristinely white shirt was now ripped and soaked with blood. Blood? He felt like he was choking, he couldn’t let out a sound as his throat closed and his vision grew blurry.

Henry looked up, unsure how he managed to lift his head, and tried to focus on his brother to see if Seth was experiencing the same kind of pain. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t see that far away and while it felt like he’d been standing there, wavering like a drunken man for hours, it had only been a few seconds after the sound and pain had erupted before Henry teetered to the side into a bloody mess on the floor.

Seth blinked, his gaze following the point of the gun. He blanched, finally finding the very important missing piece. Henry. Of course he had come back at the most inopportune time. Seth couldn’t move as he watched the blood spread across his shirt, and all he could think was that Henry was going to be pissed because blood stains were a bitch to get out, especially on white shirts.

It wasn’t until Henry toppled over to the floor that time seemed to catch up to Seth. Well fuck that shit. Someone was going to die today and it certainly wasn’t going to be his little brother. He closed the gap between him and the shooter in less than three steps and yanked him backwards by the collar with such force that when he hit the floor, his head bounced with a sickening thwack. Stepping on his chest to hold him down, Seth picked up the gun and pointed at the man he was using as a punching bag earlier.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot you in the fucking face right now.” Seth wasn’t exactly sure how the damn thing worked but he was pretty sure he could figure it out. He must not have had it too wrong as the attacker turned and ran out the door without looking back. Guess he didn’t care too much about his friend, who was out cold under Seth’s foot. He wanted nothing more than to just continue to beat the living hell out of him, or at least give him a taste of his own medicine. Seth would have too, if he had not heard a gargle just across the room.

Here he was wasting precious time on this bastard when Henry was bleeding mere feet away from him. He moved quickly to his brother’s side. He dropped the gun on the floor and immediately pressed his hands to Henry’s wound to try and stop the bleeding.

“Hey. Henrietta, look at me,” he said trying to keep his voice from wavering. Henry had always joked that Seth was going to be the death of him, but it wasn’t going to be like this, and definitely not today. “Henry. Come on open your eyes. There you go, gotta stay awake okay?”

Seth looked around frantically. Where the hell did he put his wand. Oh right, in his pocket, just where he left it, but what good was his wand anyways, he didn’t know any healing spells. Could you apparate with someone who had a gunshot wound? Would it make it worse?

“Remember when you told me that I should have payed more attention when it came to first aid spells? I’ll remind you to yell at me again for not listening to you later. But then again, man I know you secretly want to be like me and but, shit, of all things you pick to copy, getting shot is most certainly the worst choice ever. You probably won’t even have a kickass scar, because you get to go to a real hospital and fuck do the venue people even know we are here? Because I really don’t want to--” Seth couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth as he rambled on and on. His vision was blurring and he couldn’t figure out why, he went to wipe them and stopped short at his blood covered hand. He replaced it quickly on Henry’s wound unable to look at it.

“Alright. You’re okay, baby bro. I’ll--I’ll get you out of here and you’ll be just fine.” All he needed to do was focus. He knew how to apparate. He could do this, because leaving Henry to get help wasn’t an option. So it was sit here and wait, or hope for the best and take him straight to Mungo’s.

As Henry forced himself to stare at the ceiling, listening to Seth take down whoever was attacking them, his thoughts ran frantically through his mind. He was a Slytherin, he was a pureblood Slytherin that had managed to stay out of the war, that had avoided being recruited by the Dark Lord, and here he was---dying on the floor from a muggle robbery. Maybe it was payback for not representing his House properly, maybe----he had a son at home.

The thought of Brandon and Heidi caused Henry to release a moan of despair, his eyes shutting tightly. He couldn’t die, he couldn’t die, his son wasn’t even a month old, he---Henry heard his brother rush to him, and he opened his eyes when Seth told him to. He grimaced as he looked at his brother, his entire body shaking with pain and fear. He’d never been hurt like this, he’d never been so clueless as to what was going on and that seemed to be scaring him the most. What the bloody hell had happened?

Did Seth say---he got shot?

Like---like that----Henry groaned again, shaking his head back and forth, wanting to reach up and smack his brother in the face, but he couldn’t move his hands away from his stomach. Seth needed to stop talking, he needed to--

“Shut-----up!” Henry gasped. He glared hard at his brother; somewhere in the back of his mind Henry was aware that this wasn’t Seth’s fault, but sitting here talking and rambling and completely panicking was not going to keep him alive! Somehow Henry managed to still have the level head in the duo, and it seemed like his outburst forced Seth out of his terror because the tug and pull of disapparation hit Henry hard.

The swirl stopped almost immediately, and they were suddenly in a different room, a much brighter lit one with white walls. Henry couldn’t take a second to appreciate that they’d made it to the emergency room of St. Mungo’s before he let out a bellow of a scream, feeling as if the apparation had torn him apart. Had he gotten splinched on top of getting shot? This was the worst five minutes of his life, was this really going to be the way he died?

There was a lot of commotion going on around him, and Henry tried to keep his eyes focused on Seth, but his eyes grew weary, his body went slack, and he dropped into unconsciousness.

Seth’s mouth snapped shut when Henry told him to shut up. Right. Mungo’s. He hadn't even managed to yell out for help before Henry let out a scream. Merlin, he had made it worse, hadn’t he? Apparating wasn't supposed to hurt like this. He knew it was a bad idea, probably forgot one of those damn ‘D’s along the way. Wasn’t that how they taught you not to splinch back in school?

“Sir, Sir! You need to come with me.”

Seth blinked, focusing on the witch in green robes that was suddenly in front of him. Somewhere along the way they had pulled Henry from his grasp, because he was already on a stretcher surrounded by more people in the same green robes.

"Sir you are in shock and bleeding. You need to let me--"

"No. My brother is bleeding. I need to go with him he was shot. I- I am fine and he was shot so I need to be with him," Seth said, pushing past the witch.

"Sir you are bleeding too. You most likely splinched on your way in, please just come--"

"NO!" Seth shouted to get his point across. "I am going with Henry to make sure he doesn't,die while you are too busy worried about me and my--" He never got to finish his rant or walking through the door as the healer hit him with a sedation spell.

"I'm putting the brother in room 5," she called over to the other healers as she levitated him onto the stretcher. "Should probably look him over while he is sedated."