Archive of Our Own ^beta

The recording had just finished, and everyone agreed that it had been a success. Dara had done his "annoyed schoolmaster" thing, Hugh had done his voices (which Chris had accompanied with some very over the top gestures), Andy had complained about everything the government had done in the past week in his usual "outraged everyman" style and Milton... Milton had barely said 50 words during the entire recording. Which was normal.

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*click* The camera flashed and the customary group photo was taken.
"Great. I'm knackered," growled Rhod. The others laughed.
The audience had just started to leave and the panallists were bantering and punching each other on the shoulder. Or in Chris and Ed's cases, kicking each other in the shins.
"Ow! I didn't kick you that hard!" yelled Chris.
"Oh yeah you did!" retorted the long-haired Irish comedian.
"Guys, guys, stop acting like five year old children, okay?" muttered Dara. He was throughly done with the panellists and wanted nothing more than to go home.
The panellists ignored him and continued joking around. No one noticed the man who sneaked backstage. No one noticed the faint ticking sound.

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The ground started to rumble. Dara noticed it but thought that he was just tired.
"Ed, I'm leaving now, 'kay? I'm seeing things and hearing things I swear,"
"Alright Dara. See you,"
Dara got up and left. Suddenly, he became aware of Ed calling his name. He walked back towards the panel, shaking his head.
"Hey Dara, I forgot to ask you something. Can I come over to your place tonight? Round 5, say?"
"Uh, su-"
He was interrupted by a loud bang from behind the panel.

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"RUN!" screamed Chris as he fled his seat and ran towards the exits. Rhod ran after him, ignoring the shrapnel stuck in his left shoulder and the pain it was causing him. Hugh tried to run as well, but he fell and his leg snapped. He shouted for help. Andy turned around and saw his friend lying on the ground, his leg twisted awkwardly. Ignoring the blood running down his face, he dragged Hugh onto his one good leg.
"Together?" Andy asked, concerned. Hugh smiled, despite the pain.
"Thanks,"
"What we waiting for, then?" The pair moved as fast as they could towards the exits, Hugh hopping on his good leg with his arm around Andy. Behind them, more bangs rang out. Hugh squeezed his eyes shut, partly to avoid being blinded by the fire raging around them, and partly because his leg hurt. SO. DARN. MUCH. He let go of Andy for a moment to knuckle the wet from his eyes. The bangs were getting louder and the flames were getting hotter and denser. They had to get out fast. Andy looked behind him and saw the flames creeping up behind him. He and Hugh ran as fast as they possibly could. Suddenly, Andy was aware of a stumbling figure coming from behind them. The figure was getting closer, and Andy felt a surge of adrenaline pass through him. The figure reached for his shoulder. Andy shoved the man back and continued towards the exit. He felt slightly guilty but decided that the man would probably get to the exits anyway some way or another and pushed the door open. Outside was blindingly bright but he felt a smile creep across his face. They'd made it. Ignoring the stares that he was getting due to the still bleeding cut on his head, he and Hugh collasped onto the welcoming ground below.

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Ed had also tripped over in his quest to get out of the building, but his injuries were more severe. He had hit his head on a sharp corner of the desk and had suffered a severe concussion. He would probably have lay there on the ground forever if Dara hadn't lifted him up and half-dragged, half-carried him to the exits. Outside, Dara noted (slightly wryly) that Ed was a bit heavier than he'd thought he was just by looking at him. HIs thoughts were interrupted by a gasping Rhod stumbling towards him.
"You carried him out?" Rhod asked, his voice even more Dalek-like than it usually was.
"Yup," Dara grinned. "And he was a bit harder to carry out than I thought he'd be,"
"Well, there's a first time for everything,"
"Yeah, and I really hope this will be the last time," Dara contemplated this for a moment before something sprang into his mind.
"Rhod, how's everyone else?" he asked.
Rhod frowned and looked around.
"You're mostly okay except for a few bruises and scratches, Ed looks concussed, Chris is mostly fine as well, Andy's got a bad cut on his head, Hugh's broken his leg by the look of it and Milton-" He paused and squinted into the distance.
"What about Milton?" asked Dara.
"I can't see him anywhere," mumbled Rhod. "What if he's still inside?"
"Aw, come on. He must have gotten out. He MUST have. You probably can't see him. You didn't bring your glasses, did you?"
"Impossible. I'd recognise that hair anywhere. And that shirt. Admit it, Dara. You'd be able to see him in pitch darkness with that shirt, wouldn't you?"
Chris ran over to to Dara and Ed, his face red and covered with sweat.
"Where's Milton? Have you seen him?"
"No," replied Rhod.
"What if he's still inside?"
"I hope not," Rhod looked grim.
"I'm asking the audience. Maybe they saw him get out,"
But no one had seen Milton leave the studio. Chris looked determined.
"I'm going in," he said.

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"Chris, no. It's dangerous inside. Whole building's about to explode by the look of it," pleaded Dara.
"Exactly why we've got to get him out,"
"But Chris-"
"Sorry, Dara, but I've got to," Chris gritted his teath. "He's my friend," He turned and ran towards the blazing building. Rhod grimaced.
"I'm going too. Chris might need help," He followed Chris into the blaze, determined.

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Inside, the flames were about the only things that they could see.
"He must be in there somewhere," said Chris, panting.
They called his name, but no one answered. They couldn't see him either, and they were getting desperate.
"We'll have to find him before the entire building explodes," yelled Chris over the sound of flames and explosions.
"How long do we- I think I found him!"
"Where?"
"Here!"
Rhod was kneeling next to an unconcious Milton.
"Is he alive?" asked Chris, gasping. Rhod put his hand on Milton's chest.
"Yeah,"
"We've got to get him out,"

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Dara was anxious. Chris and Rhod had gone into the burning building about ten minutes ago and they still hadn't come out yet. What if something had happened to them? On the slightly brighter side, Ed had now managed to remember what his name was, which was good.
"They're out!" roared Andy, with no warning whatsoever.
Indeed, two figures had now hobbled out of the building carrying-no, dragging- a third figure behind them. For once, Dara was thankful for Andy's lack of an indoor voice.
Within what felt like a second, Chris and Rhod had appeared in front of him.
"You got him?" Dara was delighted.
Chris was panting too much to reply, but Rhod managed to gasp out a firm "Yes,"
Dara was beside Milton's body within seconds.
"Hey, Milton! Wake up! Just-"
The paramedics pulled him aside.
"We'll deal with this," one of them said.
Dara would have objected, but at that moment, the recording centre exploded.

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"An explosion after a recording at the BBC television centre has injured dozens, one critically. The explosion happened at around 4pm, after a recording of Mock The Week. According to a spokesperson for the BBC, a bomb had been planted backstage. Twenty-four people were taken to hospital, including all seven of the panellists. Seventeen of them were later discharged. Two of the panellists sustained head injuries, one sustained shoulder injuries from shrapnel, one sustained a leg injury and one is in critical condition with smoke inhalation and burns,"

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Three days had passed since the explosion. But a lot had happened in three days. There had been interviews, investigations and all of the paperwork that had to be completed after a tragedy. But most worryingly, Milton had still not woken up. The other panellists were keeping a near constant vigil at his bedside, witnessing every IV change and beep of the heart rate monitor.
"He's going to be okay right?" Dara asked the doctor, worried.
"We hope so,"
Andy just nodded. Since the explosion, he hadn't spoken a word, and seemed to be brooding nearly constantly.
"You okay, Andy?" asked Hugh, who was in a wheelchair.
Andy was silent for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke.
"I have a confesson," he said softly. "I think I may have been the one who prevented Milton from exiting the studio,"

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"I was with Hugh and this guy -I think it was Milton- came up behind me and he tried to grab my shoulder and I pushed him back. I thought he'd get out. Really,"
Silence fell. Finally, Rhod spoke.
"And how are you so sure it was Milton?"
Andy swallowed hard and pulled something out of his pocket.
"This. I ripped off part of his shirt,"
Rhod squinted at the bit of cloth.
"Yeah, there's no doubt, that's 100% Milton's shirt. He's going to be pretty mad at you for destroying that shirt,"
"RHOD!" yelled Dara "This is no time for jokes!"
"What, six comedians in one room and 'no time for jokes'?"
Dara sighed and turned on the television.

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"In sports news, Arsenal beat Tottenham three-nil,"
"YES!" Milton sat up straight in bed and punched the air, accidentally ripping out an IV in the process.
Ten seconds of silence. Everyone tried to comprehend what had just happened. The first to react was Chris, who shot over to Milton and began ruffling his hair violently. The other comedians proceeded to do the same. Even Hugh wheeled himself over to mess around with the others. Chaos ensured in the room, and it only stopped when Milton shoved Chris off his chest, grinning.
"Did that hurt?" asked Chris, concerned.
Milton smiled.
"Yeah, but it was worth it,"

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Andy sat next to Milton in hospital. Milton had been there a week since he'd woken from the coma, and they were just keeping him there for observation. He was daydreaming about being Doctor Who when Andy tapped him on the shoulder.
"Yes?"
"Milton, I've got something to tell you,"
"Go on,"
"Did someone shove you backwards when you tried to run?"
Milton thought for a moment.
"It was a bit hectic and everything but... yes. How did you know?"
Andy took a deep breath.
"Because that person was me,"

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"You shoved me back into the fire and the flames and the everything?" asked Milton. Andy couldn't decipher his expression.
"Yeah. I'm... I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry," A sob rose in his throat.
Milton's face broke into a grin and he embraced Andy.
"It wasn't your fault. You panicked or something. I don't blame you,"
"Then... I suppose I should give this back to you," Andy handed the cloth back to Milton.
Milton frowned at it.
"You. Ripped. My. Shirt?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry,"
"That was my favorite shirt!" Milton turned away and started pouting.
Andy felt terrible.
"Milton?" he asked tentatively. "It was an accident and-"
"I was just messing with you!" laughed Milton playfully, interrupting Andy's impending guilt trip. Andy grinned back at him.
"I still feel bad though," mumbled Andy. "I wish I could give something back to you or something,"
"Well, you could always treat me to dinner or something," suggested Milton "Or, if that's not enough for you, maybe you'd like to take me to Hawaii and get me a new-"
"No!" shouted Andy. "No way!"
"I was just messing with you!"
"Stop messing with me then!" Despite his angry expression, Andy was beaming inside. He was just happy that Milton was better. Now, if only his head would heal a bit quicker so he'd stop getting stared at because of the black stitches on the top of his bald head...