Spoilers: Nothing specific.
Disclaimer: I don't own Emergency, I'm just borrowing the characters. :)
A/N: As always, I thank my Lord Jesus Christ for his incredible mercy and grace and his many blessings. I would be utterly lost without him.
Trigger warning: This fic deals with the subject of drunk driving. If you're sensitive to this topic, please read with care. Thank you.
A Bad Run
Over the years, Captain Hank Stanley had learned to gauge the mood of his paramedics after a run by…well, by watching Gage himself. Roy tended to the stoic side of things, but John was a lot more obvious about what he was feeling.
If the run had been something fairly ridiculous, John was sure to be heard complaining about it. ("How exactly does someone get their hand stuck in a shoe, Roy? Just tell me that!") If the run had been pretty routine, ending with good news for everyone involved, then John was sure to greet Hank with a relieved smile and a casual, "Hey, Cap," as he strolled in from the bay. And if they'd delivered a healthy baby, then John would come in grinning from ear to ear, practically bouncing off the walls.
The other kinds of runs…those were the most difficult to deal with. They were the sort of runs that left John quiet and solemn, his gaze far away and his jaw set in a hard line.
When that happened, Hank knew his paramedics had lost someone.
John looked that way now. Even Roy seemed subdued, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the wheel of the squad because neither man had left the vehicle yet. Hank frowned and walked over to them, stopping at the driver's side door, his hands in his pockets.
"Bad run?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
John sighed. "Guy killed himself driving into a house. He was drunk. Plowed right into it when he took a curve."
Hank winced. "Was anyone else hurt?"
"No one was in the house at the time," Roy answered, "but his passenger was in pretty rough shape. We got her stabilized at the scene, but Brackett's not sure if she'll make it."
Hank shook his head, drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly.
It was a familiar story - he'd seen it a hundred, a thousand times before, in all its various forms. Those drunk driving cases always left him feeling a helpless sort of anger, because no matter the details, they all had at least one thing in common: they didn't have to happen.
But somebody, somewhere, had made the choice to drink and drive, and they'd ruined lives in the process. Usually, it was the innocent people around those drivers who paid the steepest price, but this time it was the driver himself.
That didn't make it okay.
The man behind the wheel had a family too, maybe even kids. His death would hurt everyone who cared about him, and change their lives irrevocably.
All because of one bad choice.
"What's it gonna take for people to learn?" John grit out, his voice dark.
Hank just wished he knew.
Fin
A/N: This fic is dedicated to a former high school classmate of mine who was the drunk driver described in this story. I didn't know him all that well, but it shocked and saddened me to hear his name in the news a couple years ago. He was only 28, and I found out from his obituary that he had two little boys.
Please don't drink and drive.
Ani-maniac494