I do not own any of the characters
Chaos. Complete and utter chaos. John was surrounded by so. much. chaos. The hot sun beat down on the soldiers and mad them all long for the cool dampness of London. John's unit had just been ambushed as they were on their way back to camp. John was working with the other medics to get a temporary medical station setup, so that they could address the most pressing of wounds. The ambush was almost over, just a few of the enemy left. The doctors were all ready to go collect the injured.
"Help!" a voiced called out from the field. The voice sounded rather feeble, and John could tell that he needed help, quick. The voice was that of a young soldier, and was full of the fear of death. It ever ounce of restraint that John had to keep from running out to save him.
"Please somebody, help!" The voice was panicky now, and quickly fading. John knew that running out there before the 'all clear' was foolhardy, but the plight of the young soldier caused his heart to overpower his brain, and dash out to his fallen comrade. That soldier was still alive, and could remain that way if John got to him. The army doctor peeked around the truck he and his fellow doctors were setting up behind. He saw no immediate danger, so John broke into an all-out sprint towards the Soldier. John got to the young man in one piece, and cried "I've got you! I'm here-" At that moment John felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. As he glanced down at it, the world started to spin. A bullet had ripped through his shoulder, and could have hit his sub-clavian artery. There was certainly enough blood. It was on this thought that John's knees buckled under him, and he crumbled to the ground. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a distinctly British voice yelling "ALL CLEAR!" Then, nothing.
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