I will probably add to this or make it a short multichapter story.
Storyline: [Medical AU] Levy lands a job as a third-year resident at the same hospital where her friend works and discovers it's quite a different atmosphere than the hospital where she last worked. She's soon in up to her elbows, both with her exciting shifts and a certain handsome Cardiothoracic surgeon. They're just doctors. They aren't perfect. But they're gonna try. [Romance/Drama/Angst]
Credit to snowmadien for helping me brainstorm and for her medical expertise, which will no doubt appear in future chapters. Thank you for your assistance.
Inspiration from the song Into The Fire by Thirteen Senses. So you could say that's the fic's theme song ha.
Into The Fire
Rich, dark liquid streaked down from the patient's chest. It continuously flowed no matter the pressure applied to the wound to stop it. Onto the white sheets, the bed's metal bottom frame, and onto the shoes of the surrounding doctors and nurses.
"We need to move now!" The Cardio Attending surgeon yelled. He shook off his white lab coat, exposing his dark blue scrubs and black hair tied back. His voice boomed as he subconsciously slipped into the military command mode he had been trying to forget.
He roughly pointed to the other male doctor in the room as they prepared to wheel the patient out, shouting, "Blake, bring the ambu bag. Keep the blood coming! Let's go, let's go!"
The pretty doctor who had paged him was doing her best to hold pressure, but with her condition, she wouldn't be able to keep up with the rest of them; they would literally need to run. "McGarden, let-" Gajeel started but was cut off.
"I'm not leaving! She's my patient!" Levy loudly growled with so much force her voice cracked. She glared at the monitor above the bed. The alarms kept ringing warnings at them. "She's my patient now!"
Gajeel pursed his lips at the small Resident. At his small Resident.
He wasn't going to argue. There simply wasn't time.
Remembering she was carrying his baby, he carefully lifted Levy off the ground towards the bed until she was straddling the patient's abdomen, leaning her whole body into the now large incision site in between the right clavicle and breast. Her baby bump settled between herself and the woman lying on the gurney. All focus was poured into the task of holding pressure on the gash all but exploding hot blood like a fatal fountain.
"Somebody get her a mask!" Gajeel called above the screaming monitor alarms.
In a matter of seconds, a nurse slipped a surgical mask over Levy's mouth and nose. The front of her of light blue scrubs was splattered with red.
They unlocked the wheels and began to roll out with the sides of the gurney popped up to allow them room to push. Other medical staff outside the room favored the walls when they saw the group rushing down the hall. A few nurses at the head of the bed pushed the monitors alongside it, the other doctors on either side pushed with firm grips on the bedside handles.
"Move, dammit!"
Everyone heard one of the hospital's cardiothoracic surgeon's roar. They ran along in a quick flash. Wide-eyed interns watched with shocked awe at the emergent cries. A nurse laid a land on Levy's back to steady her as they rounded a corner without slowing down. Blood continued to heavily stream now, leaving a thick stripe and splatter on the shiny flooring as they went.
Gajeel ran ahead of them as they approached the elevators. He had to get it clear, he had to get the doors open before they reached it. Stainless steel gave way to an empty lift seconds before they rolled into it.
The Cardio Attending tried to steady his breathing as they stood still, all watching the monitors for any drastic change in the patient's heart and dwindling condition.
His gaze shifted to Levy. He took in the picture. He wanted to laugh; she was now eye level with him, something that rarely happened even while together in bed. Her hazel eyes flickered to his and he saw the same ever-present strength she exerted on a daily basis. As well as a little fear. It was something conveyed that he understood.
None of them wanted to lose the patient they all loved.
The blood pooled in the elevator, between the black wheels of the medical bed. And it would so long as the heart beneath skilled hands kept beating. The seconds it took to reach the operating floor were ticking away like whole minutes. Seconds mattered in situations like this one.
The quick beeping alarms kept going. They were running out of precious borrowed time.
"H-he said he was coming," the faint patient whispered through labored breaths. The color had drained from her face and her expression was grim. "Is he c-coming?"
Levy stared down at her.
There was an uncertainty in success with how much blood loss there was already. But they would try. They would try as hard as they could, for as long as they could, to repair the damage done to her chest wall. To her fading and overworked heart, now having pumped a countless amount of vital life source out onto the floor. It coated the right side of the bed.
Her bedside manner was spot on any other time. Her gaze settled onto their patient. It was as if Levy could burn a hole through the woman. She tried not to snap, though in her distress, her words were crisp, coming low and even, "He's on his way. Stay. With me."
"Alright, be ready." Gajeel scowled at the numbered lights above the entryway signaling the second floor. The surgical floor. The elevator came to a halt. The doors vanished as they peeled back to expose a new landing entering into a hallway.
"Go!"