This is not intended to be my big comeback, and I've really forgotten how to write. All of the chapters will be done in fragments, but updated (hopefully) with much more speed.
(c) Trauma Center
Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.
He can hear it.
Ba-dump... Ba-dump... Ba-dump.
It slows as he quickly sutures some wounds and injects stabilizer. And suddenly, the world begins moving again as the car screeches to a halt and the doors open.
"27-year-old male suffered internal hemorrhaging. Vitals stable at 60. Minor lacerations on chest and arms." he spoke loudly to the doctors rushing to his doors. He and his partners lift the stretcher up and out of the ambulance, handing the man over to much more capable hands. Two members of their team follow behind to give them updates, intending to return back to the ambulance for their next call.
This was Derek Stiles' last call for the night.
He would return home to his one bedroom apartment, wake up at 7, do his part-time job as a medical technician, visit his mother, and return home, repeating this routine until it was the weekend and he had his night job as an EMT.
While others in his profession complained, he never felt more at home. The world would slow as he did emergency procedures, keeping his patients alive until they could receive proper care. Especially during the procedure, the heartbeats would match his slow, steady, calm heartbeat.