New story I'm trying. :) I've had this typed up for months.. just never decided to post it until now.
Notes: I'm not a police officer, nor a medical officer, so I dunno if the stuff I type is true. If I made a mistake, let me know. :D It's fiction, so it's not like it matters anyways. xD
On to the story!
Midnight in the dark alleys of New York was one of the scariest places to be. Especially if a car was speeding down each and every one like a bat out of hell. Not only were the sounds of an engine echoing throughout the night disturbing.. but the sounds of a female's screams was what had most concerned.
"Tom, stop the car!" She yelled, trying not to cry. It was bad enough she was angry at her so-called boyfriend, but crying would only piss him off more as well. "Tom! Stop it! Seriously, pull over!"
"Shut up!" He yelled back to her, trying to maneuver around garbage cans, but ended up crashing into them anyways. She could smell the alcohol in his breath as he panted from the excitement. The thrill of driving drunk. Not able to take it anymore, she reached over and grabbed the steering wheel. She tried to jerk it to the side, hoping it would crash into a wall. Anything was better than crashing into another vehicle. Unfortunately, he shoved her away. "Stop it, you stupid bitch!"
Gaining control of the vehicle.. or what seemed like some control, he kept his normal thirty to forty miles an hour speed through the thin alley ways and didn't even touch the brake once. She had begun to cry, having seen her life flash before her eyes too many times in just five minutes.
"Just please stop," She whispered, but it wasn't loud enough for him to hear. She no longer cared what happened to her. Even Hell was better than this.
She stared out the window as the car began to jerk around what appeared to be orange construction barrels and signs. Just further down the road that they had pulled onto, a series of heavy machinery were moving around furiously, trying to get their work done and she closed her eyes, expecting the worst.
A sudden yell from him and her eyes shot open, and then widened when she saw what they were heading towards. A second pair of head lights illuminated the night and the sound of a horn repeatedly went off. He slammed the brakes, but even that was not enough.
Minutes later and the sound of sirens echoed throughout the alley ways. Lights soon flashed and a stream of oil, gas and blood lead the ambulances to the scene.
Men and women jumped out of the back of them and the front of them. Fire trucks sped down the street and the fire fighters jumped out, preparing their hose just in case of fire.
"Get 'em out!" She heard somebody yell. Was Tom still alive? She tried to move her head but all she could see was blackness. Was she unconscious? Was she dreaming? She felt and heard the metal being cut apart as more yelling erupted. "Hurry, get her out!" Her? There was Tom, too. Why didn't they say them again?
"He's gone," She heard somebody, a different voice, say. "Get the girl. She's alive."
"What about the other vehicle?"
"He's dead, too."
Tears flowed down her face. Dead? And she was alive? Oh, how she'd rather be dead right now. Anything was better than the pain she was feeling. The agony.
Finally freedom was near as she felt her door being pulled away from its hinges. A soft wind touched her sensitive wounds, but made them feel better. As she felt strong arms wrap around her to pick her up, she tried to move her legs to help, but for some reason she could not feel them.
What happened to her?
"Get her on the stretcher now!" A deeper voice rang in her ears. This voice almost sounded mechanical in nature. Now she could see slightly better, but her vision was still blurred. Looking up, bright lights suddenly flashed into her eyes. "I'm doing a check right now. The quicker I get it over with, the sooner she can reach the hospital, so hurry and get her in that rigid neck collar and on that slagging carrying board!"
Everything went black.
The sound of beeping was what awoke Janice Gearing and brought reality back to her life. She tried to sit up, but a searing pain went through her body, making her stay where she was. Was she at home? She opened her eyes. The room was nearly white. She rest on a long, white bed with bars on the side. An IV was in her arm and computers and whatnot surrounded her. A neck collar was around her, preventing her head from moving too much.
She was in a hospital, and it was then she realized her dream was not a dream.
"Ah, you're awake," She recognized that deeper voice, except it didn't sound as mechanical as she first heard it. Maybe it was the accident that made it sound strange.
She looked over and was surprised to see a young looking man, at least in his early thirties, smiling at her. His glasses made him appear older. She nodded her head slowly. "What.. hap-pened?" She raised an eyebrow after she spoke. Something was wrong with her voice, too.
"I wouldn't speak too much," He said with a sigh as he stepped forward, taking off his glasses. "At least until I ask you some questions. You were in a serious car accident and you've sustained an unbelievable amount of wounds. You're lucky you survived." She still seemed confused, so he continued. "We've discovered that the male you were driving with had a 0.17 blood alcohol level and he was in control of the vehicle." The man's eyes slit. "Yet you seemed to not have been drinking at all."
Janice's eyes watered again. What was he trying to say? "I- I don't.. under-understand."
"First, let me just tell you that my name is Ratchet. I'm a Chief Medical Officer for a military base, but I was moved to this hospital recently." He paused. "Also, I think it's best you should know that because the man you were driving with-"
"Tom," She whispered.
He stopped and then nodded slowly. "Tom. Because Tom was driving under the influence of alcohol, crashed into a vehicle and killed the driver inside, and because you were not intoxicated, yet you were not driving, you may be the one to face charges for vehicular manslaughter."
Using her free hand, she placed it over her mouth, tears streaming down her face rapidly now. Why would she be accused? She didn't kill him! Her eyes shut tightly and she began to sob.
"Also," He sighed, knowing she was likely innocent. "I'm no police officer, and I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I believe that since the vehicle your car crashed into was a small construction vehicle, and the man inside was indeed deceased, every fine or time in jail is doubled."
Why was he telling her this? She already felt like the weight of the world was being pushed against her. Now she had to face the charges of murder? "I-" She hiccupped. "I- tried to drive. He-, Tom- wouldn't- he wouldn't let me. He forced me into the other side of the car." Her voice was choppy, but Ratchet was still listening intently. She gasped out a breath. "He forced me inside. I was just- picking him up from the b-bar."
"I'm just a Medical Officer. I don't know all of the rules," He sighed. He felt like a failure and he was making her feel worse. Unfortunately, she'd have to know the truth. "But since you just woke up after about two days since the accident, I can say that you look better than when I first brought you in."
"What's wrong with me?" She asked, when she noticed that she still could not move her legs.
He looked grim. "I'm afraid you're going through SCI, or what's known as spinal cord injury." He sighed and his eyes softened. He almost looked upset. "We placed you in surgery to remove fragments of bone, fractured vertebrae or anything else we believe could help. Unfortunately, what you're feeling now is permanent. There's no cure."
"I can never walk?" She asked, trying not to cry. It was amazing how your life could easily flip inside out within the blink of an eye. "A-again?"
He looked down. "There are treatments-"
"But no cure?" She demanded, her voice rising in volume. Ratchet could tell she was gaining her voice back quickly.
"It's difficult," He began," For me to come up with an accurate prognosis. I'm trying my best to help you. We have medications, rehabilitations, ongoing care and more that can help, but I'm afraid things just aren't looking very bright."
"What about my charges?" She asked slowly, not wanting to hear his answer.
He sighed. "I believe there's nothing they can do until you've recovered, which will likely be between a week to six months. That is, if you do recover. Though, I'm afraid you may have to be in a wheelchair for.. a long time."
"You mean forever?" She whispered, but loud enough for him to hear.
He nodded. "Possibly, but don't let my words frighten you."
Despite the bad news she was receiving, she could sense there was something wrong with him. "You seem.. you seem like you're not used to working at a place like this."
He chuckled. "Not at all. I just started here. Like I said, I used to work in the military as a CMO. I had my own medical bay. I did everything by myself with little assistance. I've seen dozens if not hundreds die. You might call me a little bit of a hard ass to be working at a hospital such as this, but I get my duties done."
For a second she seemed to forget about her injuries. She replied as she watched him examine the computers and other machines in the room and changed her IV, "Do you really think they'll charge me?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. You said you were forced. There's no way to really prove that, but it would make sense. His alcohol level proved he could have caused some sort of violence."
She shook her head. "I don't want what he did to be my burden." She looked away and closed her eyes and Ratchet could feel his sorrow start to seep through. "He was such an asshole. I was going to leave him that night."
"How about this," Ratchet began. "If the police stop in, I'll inform them of what happened. Maybe you can get away from the jail time, but I'm not sure about a fine."
"You think they'll listen to you?" She asked, her eyes seeming to sparkle with little hope.
He smiled faintly. "I'm not sure, but, I know some people who they might listen to."
"Like who?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Ratchet was surprised her vocals had gotten better quickly. It was likely just a short thing anyway.
He continued to smile. "Well, I used to live with military guys and girls all year 'round. I happen to know some weapons specialists who might be able to help out. Plus my lead- I mean, my boss could be of assistance."
She smiled at him. Clearly she was thankful for what he was trying to do for her. "I appreciate that. Thank you."
He nodded, but his smile faded. "But, for now, let's focus on getting you taken care of, alright?" Then he got to work immediately.
A week and a half had gone by for Janice. Laying in that bed all day for the past few days made her feel cramped and even more tired. She wanted to sleep all the time, but she hated it. She wished she could walk, or at least feel her legs. When her doctor, Ratchet, was nowhere in sight, she'd cry to herself silently.
She hated how her life was going right now. She frowned suddenly, but it was a confused frown. Did she just feel her leg for a split second? Or was it she just missed it so much, she was just feeling things that weren't actually happening?
Since she had been eating and drinking normally, she had requested the IV be taken off. Ratchet had obliged. Sitting up, she couldn't bend her neck due to the neck collar, so she kinda ducked down to look at her legs. Pain shot up her back and she wished she didn't. Groaning slightly, she sat up a bit straighter, trying to ease the pain, but it remained.
Scooting herself further down the other end of the bed, she was able to see that her legs were dangling off, but she hardly noticed because she couldn't feel them. She eyed the object across the room. A wheelchair. She just wanted to sit in it.
She knew she should wait for Ratchet to return, but she also knew he wasn't going to put her in it for at least another day or two. She couldn't wait.
As she could feel the pressure of her feet touching the ground, she knew this would be a challenge. She was in serious pain, but she didn't care much.
Of course, she had no idea what kind of trouble she could get herself into. She could fall and hurt herself more, maybe even suffer for the rest of her life. Isn't that what she was doing anyway?
Shaking it off, she gripped the mattress and slid to her knees, trying not to bend her back. Putting the palms of her hands on the floor, she began to crawl, flinching in slight pain, but her back was still straight. Making it to the wheelchair, she got back on her knees alone and grabbed the chair. Pulling herself up with all of her strength, she was satisfied when her rear met the seat.
She had done it.
Just then, Ratchet had walked in and stopped, nearly dropping the clip board in his hand. "Oh my Primus, Janice!" He ran over to her side. "How on Earth did you get over there? Did you walk?" A part of him sounded worried, but a part of him sounded amazed.
The only thing Janice could think of as a reply was, "What's Primus?"
Ratchet stuttered, but then shook it off. "How did you get over here?" He asked her, glaring. "You shouldn't have moved. You could have made your injuries worse."
"I just wanted to get out of bed." She shrugged like it was nothing, and maybe that was what made Ratchet angrier. "I crawled."
He seemed infuriated. "You don't understand the severity of your injuries! You could have lost nerve in another part of your body. Your spine could have broken more. A vertebrae could have been loose! You never know what could happen until it does!"
She flinched. "Dr. Ratchet, I-"
"Just," He put a hand up to her. "Just don't." He shook his head. "You don't understand how many times I've seen death occur. Don't add yourself to the list, Janice."
She swallowed hard. His words were sinking in. She didn't know what it felt like to see somebody die as many times as he had. She couldn't even imagine how bad she made him feel. "I'm.. I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted," He sighed, to her surprise. Then he scratched his head. "And I suppose since you're in the wheelchair, I might as well take you outside for some fresh air."
When she saw his smile, she did too. "I'd like that a lot. Please."
Tossing the clip board on the desk in the room, he turned around and walked behind her. Holding the handles, he began to push her forward. After opening the door, he got behind her again and pushed her in the hallway.
Finally, they made it outside and he parked the wheelchair over by the entrance to the hospital. Janice sighed in the fresh air. It felt good to feel it flowing in her lungs. And it felt good to hear the sounds of nature in her ears again.
Ratchet couldn't help but stare at her, and he felt lost in her eyes. So blue. Despite the scars and minor bruises blemishing her face, he could tell that she would be a young, attractive woman. He smiled as he watched her grin and take in the fresh air. It always made him feel good that he was helping somebody. "How are you feeling?"
She nodded as best as she could with the neck collar around her. "I feel good. Well, better, at least."
He gave a proud look. "Good, good. At least you seem to be recovering as far as other injuries. Soon your bruises and cuts will go away and you'll start looking back to normal." He chuckled. "I'm afraid there isn't much for the scars we can do."
She shrugged. "That's alright. I'm proud of all my scars anyway," She winked. "I survived, and that's all that matters to me."
He smiled at this. "You're very proud. Is it in the family?" He joked with a chuckle.
She laughed. "I guess so. My father was always proud. Kinda hard-headed, too, but always proud." She smiled and looked up at the clouds, "My mother was a sweet woman. She was perfect for my dad."
"Ah!" Ratchet nearly face palmed himself. "I forgot to mention that your parents were not informed of your accident. I could not find their location or phone number anywh-"
"They passed away a long time ago," She interrupted. Ratchet froze, not sure what to say. His eyes softened.
"I apologize for bringing it up, then." His eyes looked down. Janice got the feeling he really was sorry.
She smiled faintly and shrugged. "It's all over with and in the past. They were great parents, but fate hates me, so.." She trailed off.
He looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. "Don't say that. You survived a fatal car crash. If fate truly hated you, you wouldn't be talking to me."
"Unless fate wants me to suffer," She pointed out.
Ratchet looked hurt, but he wasn't being serious. "Oh, so I assume talking to me is suffering to you."
She laughed aloud, unfortunately hurting herself, but she tried to ignore the pain. She could barely stop. "No! I didn't mean it like that." She giggled. "I meant suffering with the injuries!"
"Then fate must love me, because I'm always looking for a patient to heal," He grinned. Janice giggled again. He was funny to her and she enjoyed his presence and talking to him. She wished she had had a friend like him earlier in her life. "If you don't mind me asking, do you have any other family you'd wish me to inform? Preferably ones who will visit?"
She shook her head. "Not really, but thanks. My family is small, and we don't talk much." She sighed and looked around again. Ratchet noticed her eyes were locked on a butterfly as it floated past, flapping its wings gracefully. "I've lived with my boyfriend, well I guess you could say my ex boyfriend, Tom, for about six years. We were going to get married."
"I'm sincerely sorry to hear this, Janice," His eyes softened again and he gave off that apologetic look.
She shrugged it off again. "Like I said, I was going to break up with him. He turned out to be an alcoholic and somewhat of a cheater." She sighed.
"I don't understand how there are those who think cheating and getting extremely drunk are the only two things they can ever do with their lives," He said. Then he seemed to think. "I've never cheated, but I should probably say that I've had my fair share of drinks before.. I guess I'm somewhat of a hypocrite. Of course I'm not an alcoholic."
Janice chuckled and tried to picture him drunk. She didn't know him well enough, but she still couldn't picture it. He was somewhat too formal. "You seem like a good guy. It's a rare thing to see."
He smiled at that. "I just know how to live my life properly, I suppose."
"That's a good thing." She began to scratch at her neck. "Can I take this thing off? It's starting to bug me."
"Do you have any pain in your neck?" He asked. He didn't seem too sure it was a good idea just yet, but he would do it anyway if she really insisted.
She shook her head slightly. "No. It's mostly my back, but even that's starting to feel better."
He nodded with a sigh. "Alright then." Taking his hands, he placed them on the neck collar and gently took it off. He chuckled when she immediately started to scratch at it. He smiled faintly. "You're very.. how can I say this.. fidgety."
She laughed. "I can never sit still." Then she groaned and looked at her legs. "Which sucks because I'm probably gonna be in here for a while."
He chuckled, but then stopped slowly. He knew she may never see the chance to walk again, but only time would tell. He cleared his throat. "Well, for the mean time, I'll take care of you. Do you have anywhere to go?"
She nodded. "My house. It wasn't his, so, I can stay there."
"You will live alone then?" He asked, not liking the idea of her having to fend for herself in a wheelchair.
She shrugged. "Yea. I have to. I have nobody else who'll help me."
He began to think. He wanted to help her in some way, but he wasn't just going to ask if he could live with her. That would be beyond strange, especially since he was still considered a stranger to her. "Like to travel?" He asked instead.
This caught her slightly off guard. "Um, well I've never been out of the US, but I've always wanted to get out from time to time."
He nodded in approval.
"In a couple of days, I'm taking vacation time to head out to Qatar in the Middle East," He said, but then stopped himself. "Well, it's not really a vacation. It's more like I have to give a check-up to the soldiers at the SOCCENT Armed Forces base there."
She laughed. "Oh, I forgot you mentioned you worked with the military people." Then she paused. "Who'll take care of me?"
He smirked at her question. "Wanna travel?"
Her eyes widened slightly. She had always thought the Middle East wasn't much but a war zone. She thought it was beautiful up there, but the thought of all the weapons she'd be surrounded by made her nervous. "But- is it safe?"
He seemed slightly surprised. "Of course. It's heavily guarded and well armed. There's not a fly that can come in and out undetected." He grinned.
She smiled and looked away. "Well, I guess I wouldn't mind going. It'll be nice to get out of this country for a little," She looked over at him. "How long will we stay?"
He shrugged. "A few weeks. I normally stay for a few months, but figured you wouldn't want to stay too long." He paused. "Unless you'd like to? Up to you."
She didn't even think about it. "I'd love to go. Do I get to meet all of your buddies?" She winked.
"I'll introduce you to everybody." She nodded in what was clear excitement. Ratchet smiled and watched her. Her hair blew gently in the small breeze and she smiled as she looked up at the sky. "Do you like the sky?"
She nodded. "I love the sky." She sighed, never taking her eyes off the clouds. "I love the night sky more, though. I like to look at the stars and the moon. Sometimes I wish I could've been an astronaut and go there." She stopped and looked around at the trees. "Do you think there's another planet with life?"
This made him chuckle. "I do, but you can never be too sure. It's quite a large Universe. It'd be a shame if it were gone to waste."
She nodded. "I know what you mean." She laughed. "I thought it would be interesting to meet another alien species, ya know? Just talk about life on each other's planet. Talk about the life style. Get new knowledge. All that cool stuff." She sighed. "I'm not going to be that fortunate, though."
He raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Maybe you will one day." He decided to ask some questions just out of his curiosity. "What would you do if you met an alien species, and they were huge? I'm talking at least twenty feet tall."
She laughed and looked at him with a weird look. "What are you talking about? What kind of question is that?" He shrugged and so did she. "I guess I wouldn't be afraid. As long as they proved themselves harmless."
"Do you think it's easier said than done?" He asked, again, out of curiosity.
Her smile was crooked when she looked at him. "Um, I've never met an alien species, so I'm gonna say.. I trust what I think I'd do. So, therefore, I wouldn't be scared."
He nodded. "I see. Well, then I guess you're worthy to meet an alien species one day."
She raised an eyebrow and squinted an eye. "Oh yea? We'll see one day, if that ever happens."
Well, first chapter! It's pretty long. xD Actually, I already have the next two written, and they're both pretty long too. :D
