Real-time creeps back in, and Lindsay realises the kid's on his knees beside him, saying his name over and over and over.
"What?"
"Oh, thank fuck... Jesus, you're bleeding like hell."
"Thanks, Sherlock."
"Can you see a bright white light?"
"Yeah."
"Oh fuck. Fuck! Okay, listen to me, don't go near it, okay?"
"What?"
"Stay away from the light."
"What are you talking about?"
"That's death, innit? Don't go near it, promise me."
"I mean I can see the electric lights on the ceiling, you berk."
"You berk! You knob, I thought you were dying."
"You didn't specify what kind of bright light, you just said bright light,
you might've been testing my eyesight."
"I ain't fighting with you when you've been shot.

Autore: Richard Rider