Never a Good Day... 4/6
May. 11th, 2009 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cj2017Never a Good Day… 4/6
Rating: Hard PG-13: copious amounts of bad language, discussion of adult themes, violence and broken bones.
Word Count: This part 3,600.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them. Wish I did.
“It’s a good job your cooking’s so fucking terrible.” Sarah was a dead weight in Derek’s arms, but at least she was a relatively light one. “You might be heavier if even half of what you made was edible.”
If he was looking to provoke a reaction, he was failing miserably. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her hand remained slack where it rested in her lap, and the only sign that she was still alive were the little puffs of breath, warm and quick on his neck.
“We’re nearly there.” His legs were screaming in pain, his ankle a swollen lump of misery, but the road was so close he could see the pieces of debris that they had left on the asphalt. “We’re nearly there.”
~ ~ ~
For a whole minute, he couldn’t fathom what was wrong. He stood on the road, Sarah still cradled in his arms, and couldn’t work out what he was supposed to do next and exactly why that wasn’t possible.
“Shit.”
There was no truck.
“Shit.”
His arms trembled suddenly, his legs threatening to give way from beneath him. He lowered Sarah carefully to the ground, turning her onto her side, then standing and drawing his gun in one smooth motion. He pivoted around in a wide circle, taking in the details - the curve of the bend, the gap through which they had been forced, the litter of metal on the road. They were in the right place, and the truck was gone.
“Shit.”
If the police had found it, full of bullet-holes and deserted, they would still have been there processing the scene, but the road was empty. Which only really left Kaliba, who were apparently very keen to clean up after themselves, and didn’t seem to have any qualms about abandoning two of their own as missing, presumed dead. Logically, the truck had been conspicuous, would surely have been found by someone eventually, and was potentially traceable. The lesser of two evils would have been to retrieve the evidence; then, if their operatives were alive after all, they only had a long walk home to worry about.
Momentarily thrown, Derek kept his gun in his hand but returned to Sarah and sat beside her; she hadn’t stirred. He pulled his cell phone out, knowing already what the display would read but still hissing a curse at the No Signal message. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling so unsure of himself; he was used to following orders but was also more than capable of improvising when the mission required it. Now his mission had hit an unexpected dead-end and he hadn’t planned for any variation on his scenario of hotwiring the truck and GLF to the nearest hospital. The drive into the closest town was over an hour. He could probably walk it, but there was no way Sarah would be hiking alongside him, and there was no way he was leaving her unconscious at the roadside. He had already dealt with the mess left behind the last time Kaliba had gotten its hands on her, and a repeat of that just wasn’t an option. That also ruled out his walking to an area where his cell might work. Flagging a vehicle down was their only realistic chance. He had a gun or a sob story to work with and he wasn’t at all fussy which he utilized. The hard way or the easy way, the next person traveling that stretch of road was going to be picking up a couple of passengers.
~ ~ ~
In the end it was easier than Derek had expected, but then, he figured, they were owed a little good fortune. The teenaged couple pulled in immediately when they saw him waving, and Tony – all rippling muscle, suntan and lingering scent of the previous night’s pot over-indulgence – helped him to lift Sarah and lay her on the back seat of their pick-up.
“I know first aid! I did a course at work!” Tony’s girlfriend, Amy-Lou, was busy leaning over from the front seat and trying to feel Sarah’s wrist for her pulse. “Oh shit! She’s not got a pulse, holy fuck! Is she dead? I know CPR!”
Derek shook his head, climbing into the back and easing Sarah’s head onto his knees. “She’s not dead. Here…” He took the girl’s hand and placed it over Sarah’s carotid pulse, slightly disconcerted that a trained first-aider would consider performing CPR on someone who was quite obviously still breathing, “…but she’s lost a lot of blood and she really needs a hospital.”
“Oh wow. Oh thank you Jesus. It’s okay, Tony. She’s got a pulse. There’s lots of blood though. Oh, I might puke.”
Tony gave Derek a look implying that perhaps he wasn’t interested in Amy-Lou for her intelligence, and started the engine.
“Hospital’s about an hour away. If you reach into the back, there’s a blanket and a cool box, got some food in it.”
“Thanks.” Derek pulled the blanket through and wrapped it around Sarah, before flipping the lid from the cool box and taking out a sandwich. It was limp, slightly squashed and a little warm, but he was suddenly ravenous and devoured a huge chunk in one bite.
“So, what the hell happened to you two?” Tony looked nonchalantly at him via the rearview mirror whilst driving at a speed that wasn’t entirely legal.
Swallowing his mouthful, Derek resisted the urge to cram in the rest of the sandwich and decided that now was as good a time as any to rehearse his cover story.
~ ~ ~
She became aware gradually. Aware of a steady background hum of voices, only one of which was familiar. Aware that she was moving forward but that the angle was all wrong. She opened her eyes a crack, impulsively attempting to sit up in an effort to dispel some of the disorientation. Firm but careful hands stopped her from moving, and she made a small, distressed noise at the feeling of being restrained. The hands immediately left her.
“Sarah, it’s okay. Lie still, you’re okay.”
Derek. Her eyes focused slowly, taking in her position and her surroundings. Something wasn’t quite right; she realized that he was beside her, which meant that someone else was driving.
“What happened?” Her voice sounded desperately weak and she wondered how long she had been unconscious for. The look of relief on his face suggested that it had been quite some time.
“You collapsed about half a mile from the road. I carried you the rest of the way and flagged Tony and Amy-Lou down.” He shook his head to warn her against asking too many questions and she nodded her understanding.
“I thought you were dead!” Amy-Lou was staring at Sarah intently. “I ain’t never seen so much blood, ‘cept in the movies. He makes me watch a real load of nasty crap, we argue about it all the time.”
The girl continued to babble on and Sarah closed her eyes, letting the noise fade into the background.
“We’re almost at the hospital.” Derek’s voice was perfectly pitched to undercut Amy-Lou’s movie monologue. “I’ll call John as soon as we get there, okay?” His hand was warm and heavy on her shoulder and he seemed to have everything under control. Reassured, she nodded her assent and allowed herself to drift off again.
~ ~ ~
Doctor Anna Matthews placed the last butterfly stitch on the boy’s forehead and gave him a certificate lauding his bravery. The boy’s mother fussed, reading and rereading the advice leaflet she had been given, then handed her son a bar of candy that was almost as big as his head.
“Any vomiting, dizziness or drowsiness, give us a call or bring him back in.” Anna watched the boy tear into the chocolate and wondered how long it would take him to eat the whole thing and how long after that the vomiting would start. She resigned herself to dealing with a phone call from a concerned but stupid parent sometime later that day.
Dropping the used dressings into a clinical waste bin, she was contemplating an empty waiting room and an overdue cup of coffee when all hell seemed to break loose at the front desk.
“I need help! Are you a doctor?” A man’s voice, raised and animated, aimed at the receptionist.
Anna pulled back the cubicle curtain and walked over to the desk, putting her hand out to try to stall the man’s rush of demands.
“I’m a doctor, sir. What’s happened?”
“A woman. She got hurt in a car wreck. Me and Amy-Lou picked her up. She’s not awake.”
“She’s in the parking lot?” A sudden surge of adrenaline was making it difficult for her to think, protocols and procedures amassing for her to try and put into order.
“Just out the front, yeah.”
“Okay.” Two nurses had also appeared, drawn by the commotion. Anna took a deep, calming breath. “We need a gurney, long board, hard collar and blocks. Anyone in the trauma room?”
“No.”
“Tom around?”
The younger of the two nurses nodded, her eyes wide with excitement. “Staffroom. There’s an ambulance in the bay.”
“Excellent. Go grab the paramedics, we can use their kit.” Anna turned to the young man. “Lead the way.”
~ ~ ~
The man in the back seat looked as if he had only just stopped himself from drawing a weapon on her, and Anna raised both of her hands, regretting opening the truck’s door quite so abruptly.
“Sorry, sir. I’m a doctor.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes flicking to her ID badge, his body still shielding the truck’s other occupant, before he finally nodded and relaxed his posture slightly. As he leaned back against the seat, she was able to see the woman he had been protecting, and she swore softly under her breath, reaching automatically for the pulse at the woman’s throat.
“How long?” The woman’s pulse was fast and thready and her injuries were not recent.
“What time is it now?”
“Ten-thirty.”
He ran a hand across his face, trying to gauge how much time had passed. “About twelve hours.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She knew that he was lying, but he wasn’t a priority right now. “Can you move out of there?”
The paramedics were wheeling over a gurney laden with equipment. The man nodded, climbing carefully out from the back seat, his eyes never leaving the woman.
“When did she lose consciousness?”
“Couple of hours back. We crashed down an embankment and had to walk up to the road. I couldn’t stop her bleeding, but she was awake for a short time about twenty minutes ago.”
“Good. That’s good.” Anna took the cervical collar from the paramedic and slid it into place around the woman’s neck. “This is just a precaution, sir. If she was able to walk that’s a good sign. What’s her name?”
He didn’t hesitate, but his tone was guarded as if he was taking a leap of faith. “Sarah.”
“Okay. We’re just going to slide you up this board, Sarah, and we’ll have you in the hospital in no time.”
The man stood back, allowing them to extricate her. They secured her onto the board with straps and head blocks before lifting the whole ensemble onto the gurney. He nodded once in thanks to the young couple watching beside their truck, then followed the team into the hospital.
~ ~ ~
“Sir, you can’t go in there.”
One of the nurses put her hand out, blocking Derek’s path, the doors to the trauma room swinging shut and obscuring Sarah from view. He glared at the woman, contemplating forcing his way in regardless, and then realized that he needed to play by the rules and keep as low a profile as possible. The nurse seemed to take pity on him and placed a hand on his arm, steering him over to the front desk.
“These are the forms you need to fill out, then take a seat and someone will come and check you over.”
He nodded, taking the paperwork and sitting where she had indicated. When she left him alone, he folded the sheets into his pocket, dug out his cell phone and walked outside. He almost hoped that the metal would answer the call; somehow that would be preferable to telling John that his mother was in the hospital again. Resigning himself to a shitty conversation either way, he found a quiet corner of the ambulance bay, took a breath and dialed the number.
~ ~ ~
“Ready? On three…”
The board was settled onto the bed with only the slightest of jolts, but it was enough to wake Sarah. Her eyes flew open, her body reacting immediately to the sensation of being tied down and surrounded by strangers. Anna saw her hand tense into a fist at her side, and moved into her line of vision, reaching for her hand and smoothing her fingers out.
“Sarah, easy. You’re in the hospital. I’m Anna, one of the doctors, and we’re going to take care of you, okay?”
Sarah blinked, not reassured, her breathing rapid and scared. “Can’t move… Derek…?”
Anna made an educated guess, assuming that Derek was her companion. “Derek’s just outside. We had to put you on a special board to protect your spine. I know it’s uncomfortable but it won’t be for long.”
“68 over 40, tachy at 138, sats 98%, BM 4.2.” A disconnected voice reeled off vital signs and Anna nodded in acknowledgement, trying not to let her oh fuck reaction show on her face as Sarah gripped her hand fiercely.
“Sarah?”
“What?” It came out as a gasp, her eyes wide as the team worked methodically to cut her clothes off. Anna had to bite back on the urge to tell everyone to take a step back while she explained exactly what was going on. She didn’t call a halt, but she did attempt the explanation.
“We need to get you undressed so we know what we’re dealing with. Get some fluids into you and get your blood pressure back up. I know it’s not pleasant, but just try and bear with us.”
Sarah managed a small nod, shivering as the cool air hit her exposed skin. Her reserves had been spent instantly and her eyes were already closing.
Anna pulled a blanket over her, then reached above her head to connect an oxygen mask, placing it over Sarah’s nose and mouth.
“She’s really shut down, doc.” One of the nurses was scanning a critical eye over Sarah’s right arm, trying to find a vein.
“Here, let me.” Taking the IV tray, she swabbed Sarah’s inner elbow. “Sharp scratch here.” There was no reaction as she pushed the needle in deeply, trying different angles with mounting desperation until she finally saw a flash of blood in the hub and gingerly threaded the cannula into place. “That should’ve hurt. Her GCS has dropped.” She drew off blood samples quickly. “Type and cross for eight units, hang a liter of Haemaccel and fast bleep anesthetics just in case she loses her airway.” With Sarah’s left arm out of commission, she moved down to Sarah’s foot and surprised herself by inserting a second IV line at the first attempt. “Run a liter of warm saline through this, then we can switch it out when the blood arrives.”
“Fractured mid-shaft left radius and ulna. Got a decent distal pulse and her cap refill’s pretty good.” Tom – the only other doctor on shift – sounded, calm and detached, catching Anna up as he cut away the bandage on Sarah’s forehead. “And, woah! Stick a finger on that, please, we have a bleeder!”
Anna continued to conduct a secondary survey, but laughed softly at the look of horror on the face of the young nurse who had rushed to place a gauze pad on the laceration. “You knew that was under there, you shit.”
He grinned at her. “Yeah, I had a clue. Her clothes are soaked. Probably four or five units’ worth. So much blood for such a little artery.”
“Large contusion, lower right costal margin. Good bilateral breath sounds. Abdo’s soft, bowel sounds are okay, and her other long bones are intact. I can’t see anything else major.” She was starting to relax, just a little. “The amount of time she’s had that bleed would account for the level of shock. We get it sutured, get her pressure stabilized and I think we could be okay.”
“X-rays?”
“Head, chest, spinal. Hell, bit of everything. Log roll, get rid of the board and find out which ward stole our Bair Hugger; she needs warming up. Then let Ortho play with her arm.”
“Nasty mess, that arm. Would’ve been worse if he’d not pulled it though.”
Anna winced as she peeled a bandage from Sarah’s right bicep, her stomach not appreciating the thought of a double fracture corrected without a hefty dose of pain relief. The wince turned into a frown as the injury beneath the dressing was revealed; the deep incision was still bleeding sluggishly and was entirely inconsistent with a motor vehicle accident. It wasn’t the only injury that she couldn’t explain. There were contusions to Sarah’s shins and ankles, a second incision across the length of her left clavicle and what looked suspiciously like a ligature mark around her right wrist. Tom was occupied stitching Sarah’s forehead, pursing his lips at the persistence of the arterial bleed, and Anna didn’t disturb him. She didn’t tell him about the scars she had found: bullet wounds – the latest still raw and only partially healed – a stab wound, and a larger, messier scar to the left thigh where something jagged had penetrated deeply. Sarah’s face, even while unconscious, was still creased with pain and tension, and Anna wondered what the hell had happened to her, this time and the numerous times before. Several of the old scars had healed badly, indicating a lack of proper medical attention, and she suspected that it was only desperation that had brought them to the hospital on this occasion. Something had happened beyond a simple car accident, which should have made Derek a prime suspect, but she knew in her gut that that wasn’t the case. She had seen a lot of domestic abuse victims pass through the Emergency Room, and at no point had the abuser ever shared the same haunted look as the abused.
Suturing the wound quickly, she smoothed a dressing into place, feeling a twinge of guilt at the deception. She wanted to speak to Sarah before anyone did anything rash like contacting the police. The woman needed a chance to heal, and Anna strongly suspected that she would bolt for an exit as soon as she had the strength. Avoiding giving her any motivation to flee early seemed like a sensible place to start.
~ ~ ~
“Her blood pressure is coming up gradually; we were able to stop the hemorrhage from her head injury relatively easily. She has the obvious fracture to her arm and three fractured ribs. Various cuts and bruises, but those are all minor.”
Anna held the door to the trauma room open and waited until Derek hobbled through. He had spent twelve hours walking on a grade two ankle sprain and it had subsequently swollen to the size of a small melon. Evidently, mobilizing on crutches was not something at which he was particularly gifted.
“She was awake briefly, but we’ve given her morphine which has made her more comfortable and knocked her out again. You... um, you did a good job with her arm. As soon as she’s stabilized she’ll go for surgery to have the fractures pinned.”
He nodded, and sank gratefully into the chair that she had pulled up at Sarah’s bedside. “Thanks.”
Sarah was smothered in blankets, one of them a blow-up contraption that was warm when he placed his hand on it. Blood and fluid dripped steadily, restoring the tiniest fraction of color to her cheeks. Someone had taken the time to wipe the blood and dirt and sweat from her face and she seemed to be resting peacefully for the first time in hours.
“88 over 50.” Anna made a note on her chart. “That’s better than it was.”
He nodded; better but not brilliant, and he thought of John pacing the house, waiting for the call telling him that it was time to come and collect them. The news of their forced detour had not gone down well, and in the end he had given the machine the responsibility of ensuring that John remained at home until they were next contacted.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Painkillers?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Give her a couple more hours, and we can probably get her ready for surgery.”
He resisted the urge to check his watch. Normal people did not want their unstable loved ones rushed into surgery before they were ready. Normal people would hold their loved one’s hand and be grateful for the efforts of the medical staff. He reached under the blankets, wrapped his fingers around Sarah’s and smiled at the doctor. Normal people smiled with their eyes, and he did his best, but there were some things that just couldn’t be faked. If the doctor noticed, she didn’t comment, turning away instead to write notes on a chart. Derek leaned back in his chair and watched the blood fall, drop by drop.
~ ~ ~
Part 5 tomorrow…
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-11 08:59 pm (UTC)And Derek trying to stay on task and look normal.
Why is it that we always beat the shit out of Sara?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 02:26 am (UTC)Flagging a vehicle down was their only realistic chance. He had a gun or a sob story to work with and he wasn’t at all fussy which he utilized. The hard way or the easy way, the next person traveling that stretch of road was going to be picking up a couple of passengers.
*loves Derek*
He resisted the urge to check his watch. Normal people did not want their unstable loved ones rushed into surgery before they were ready. Normal people would hold their loved one’s hand and be grateful for the efforts of the medical staff. He reached under the blankets, wrapped his fingers around Sarah’s and smiled at the doctor. Normal people smiled with their eyes, and he did his best, but there were some things that just couldn’t be faked. If the doctor noticed, she didn’t comment, turning away instead to write notes on a chart. Derek leaned back in his chair and watched the blood fall, drop by drop.
Oh fuck. You're just breaking my heart here in the best possible way.
Dammit. And now I have to wait for the next update. Evil. You're evil.
:D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 04:13 am (UTC)“It’s a good job your cooking’s so fucking terrible.” Sarah was a dead weight in Derek’s arms, but at least she was a relatively light one. “You might be heavier if even half of what you made was edible.”
Oh, the LULZ.
“Oh shit! She’s not got a pulse, holy fuck! Is she dead? I know CPR!”
Ahaha, I've seen so many people like that while volunteering. They are part of the reason I've been wanting to get First Responder training so bad. I felt so useless the time my buddy dislocated his shoulder and I had to grab another volunteer with a radio to call the paramedics and couldn't do more.
The man in the back seat looked as if he had only just stopped himself from drawing a weapon on her...
That is so Derek. Can't really blame him after that last doctor nearly blew his head off.
Something had happened beyond a simple car accident...
Ooooooh, Sarah is so dangerous to doctors: they're too perceptive and wanna help. Still two parts left: plenty of time to screw up Anna's life just as thoroughly as they did Felcia's!
I'm squeeing just as much as indie over:
Normal people would hold their loved one’s hand and be grateful for the efforts of the medical staff. He reached under the blankets, wrapped his fingers around Sarah’s and smiled at the doctor. Normal people smiled with their eyes, and he did his best, but there were some things that just couldn’t be faked.
Poor Derek... he'll never admit even to himself how much he cares. XD
Keep it up, yo. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 05:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 07:37 pm (UTC)*vbg* I think we may have birthed a whole new fic genre...
I don't know really. The movies and the show have certainly created a precedent. I guess it's something to do with the fact that even when she's beaten down, she's never a victim, which is always a hell of a balance to try and get right. Plus, breaking down her edges a little means you can write scenes you otherwise would never have a chance to.
I love writing these two in circumstances like this, hence the ep codas and when I ran out of eps, I chucked them off a roadside *g*. I never really meant for anyone else but me to be entertained (hey, it was a slow day in the garden!) then it kinda grew and became an actual story! I really never intended to write 20,000 words...honest!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 07:40 pm (UTC)Aww, fan fic has always had a huge H/C quotient. I read more X-Files fic than was ever going to be healthy and it was a major genre. I always loved the trauma/medical ones and there were plenty to choose from!
It's on its way, soon as I've caught up with the comments (and triple-checked it!)
Hey it could've been worse... could've been a WIP... ;-)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 07:48 pm (UTC)I have to admit to a certain amount of fun being had, yeah ;-) And in a shocking turn of events, today, all but one of my patients were sober... things are looking up!
I love overly-enthusiastic but crap first-aiders. So I couldn't resist including one!
Anna's life is certainly about to get more interesting...
I love Derek. I love Derek trying to be normal and failing miserably even more.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-12 07:50 pm (UTC)Thank you! It was nice to just write a slightly more sedate section. Give poor Derek a chance to catch his breath...
NaGD4
Date: 2009-11-12 02:56 am (UTC)The over-enthusiastic first-aid'er really got me. I used to be CPR certified to help with river rescues, 25 years ago, but didn't stay current.
Last year I did the best first aid of my life: Preventive. I talked the driver in an upside-down Jeep out of unbuckling her seat belt until the paramedics arrived and got her boarded.
Re: NaGD4
Date: 2009-11-12 09:26 am (UTC)I couldn't resist the over-enthusiastic first aider - having encountered a fair few of them on the job. Usually well-meaning but often entirely schooled by what they've seen on the TV, which is always fun when attempting to pick up some drunk dude who's covered in vomit ;-)
Re: NaGD4
Date: 2009-11-12 04:01 pm (UTC)As far as writing trauma porn goes, I can't think of a better way for paramedic on call to spend her time, except maybe studying for Med School admission tests, or bonding with your partner (evil grin).