Douglas was bored and a little excited at the same time. Bored of waiting for Martin to open the locker door and excited about his little… plan. Oh, Martin would be sorry for saying he was unprofessional again; even if this was more proof he wasn't.
"Martin, do you find it cold in here?" Douglas asked nonchalantly. Here it comes!
"A little I suppose…" Martin shrugged.
"Could you get my coat from the locker?" Douglas asked. Don't grin, don't grin, don't grin.
Martin shrugged again and opened the locker door. This was it!
BANG! The ten party poppers (and one or two confetti cannons) were triggered by the door opening – absolutely flawless. Martin yelled out in surprise before falling to the floor, breathing heavily.
Douglas had never laughed so hard in his life – not for a while at least. "Your-Your face!" He guffawed. He didn't notice Martin clutching his chest and trying to breathe properly.
After a moment or two he threw a glance at Martin; still on the floor. "You can get up if you want to," he teased. No reaction or retaliation from the captain. Odd. "You alright?"
"N-no…" Martin gasped, breathless. Pain flared in his, too tight, chest and shooting pains up and down his left arm.
Douglas frowned, concerned. He pressed the call button; "Arthur, Carolyn; can you come here? Something's wrong with Martin…" He willed himself not to show his deep worry, but more concern for a close college.
Martin was trying his best to run through his symptoms. Breathlessness, yes; chest pain/pressure, yes; anxiety, as always if not increased; shooting pains in left arm, yes; sweating, he could feel it starting; lightheaded/dizzy, only lightheaded so far (thank God); nausea, yes. He started coughing; the last text-book symptom. One conclusion; a fucking heart attack!
"What's wrong?" Arthur's worried voice came through. Martin's dear, sweet Arthur.
"H-heart attack…" Martin gasped. Very breathless; more coughing followed.
"What?" Douglas paled.
"Both my parents… had heart… problems…" Martin's words kept trailing of at the end, "Researched… sighs… have them… all…"
"Get in here quickly," Douglas ordered over the intercom, "Martin thinks he's having a heart attack."
"Martin would," Carolyn sighed, "It's probably a panic attack."
"N-No… Shooting pain… in arms…" The world was spinning. He couldn't black out; they needed to know his symptoms. Coughing yet again.
Douglas growled in annoyance, "I can't do anything, I'm flying the plane! I'm sure the passengers can survive without drinks! I'll contact ATC, we're five minutes out; get here soon!" Douglas looked over at Martin quickly, "What are your symptoms?"
"Breathlessness… chest pain… and pressure… anxiety… shooting pains in left arm… sweating… lightheaded... and a bit… dizzy… nausea… and coughing," Martin gasped for breath, oxygen just wouldn't come.
"Certainly sounds like a heart attack…" Douglas sat-comed Fitton. "Fitton ATC, this is Golf Echo Romeo Tango India; request ambulance upon arrival."
"Nature of the emergency?" Karl asked.
Douglas could barely keep it together, "Captain Martin Crieff is having a heart attack."
The line was silent for a moment. "Ambulance mobilised. Is he alright?"
"Un-unprofessional…" Martin muttered.
"Don't talk," Douglas ordered before talking to Karl again, "He thinks he's well enough to remark on your professionalism, but he'll be better when Carolyn and Arthur put down the drinks trolley and come here. I can't do it, I'm flying the plane!"
"Rodger, Golf Echo Romeo Tango India; you have priority landing."
"Thank you, Tower." Carolyn and Arthur barged through the flight deck door. "Oh thank goodness. Martin is having a heart attack and you need to follow my instructions."
"Martin!" Arthur knelt so he could cradle the pilot's head in his lap, stroking through his hair, (it was still weird to hear him call Martin by his name) "It's ok, it's going to be ok,"
"N-no, I'm… going to die," Martin whimpered, breath getting thinner.
"No, no, no you aren't," Arthur comforted.
"Love you…" Martin gasped before the dizziness was too much and he slipped into darkness.
"Martin? Skipper? Hummingbird?!" Hummingbird? Must be part of new-nicknames-with-aviation-and-flying-themes-every-week game. It was all so sickeningly sweet with those two.
"He said he was dizzy Arthur. Now, listen to me. The ambulance is mobilised and will meet us there: in the meantime I need you to pull Martin up so he's half-sitting, half-lying…" Arthur did as he was told, tears started falling down his cheek. "A little further – perfect. Carolyn, get blankets, towels, pillows, anything soft and pack them under Martin's knees." Carolyn went away to do what she was told – deeply worried. "Arthur, do you know how to take someone's pulse?"
"Y-yeah…" Arthur took Martin's wrist. "I-it's really wea–" Arthur gasped, "Douglas, it's stopped!"
"Did you see that CPR advert on the telly? By the British heart foundation?" Douglas asked, trying not to panic himself.
"S-staying alive?"
"Yes, that's it Arthur; do that!"
Arthur started the chest compressions. "Come on, Martin; wake up. If you wake up, we can get married! We'll be Mr and Mr Shappey-Crieff or… or Crieff-Shappey; whatever you want if you just wake up!"
His captain was technically dead. "Is he breathing, Arthur?"
"No!" Arthur panicked.
"Right; place one hand on the forehead and using two fingers lift the chin. Pinch his nose firmly closed. Take a deep breath and seal your lips around his mouth. Blow into the mouth until the chest rises. Remove your mouth and allow the chest to fall," Arthur did as he was told, "Repeat once more."
"Now, thirty compressions?" Arthur asked.
"Yes, perfect Arthur!" Douglas praised.
"After we help Skip's mum; mum sent me on a first aid course, but I only remember some of it. I'll see if she'll let me go back and take it again… I need to know how to help!" Two rescue breaths. Still no pulse. "Please, Martin. Please."
Start to land. Hope to God and whoever is listening that Martin doesn't die.
...
Please review! How do you think Martin, Arthur and Carolyn are going to act towards Douglas? He did give Martin a heart attack, after all.