I claim no ownership to Greys Anatomy or any of its characters or plots.
The ER was slammed to capacity that night and showed no signs of slowing. A tractor trailer had fishtailed on Interstate 5, taking out at least 12 vehicles in its path and causing a multiple vehicle pileup behind it as drivers tried to avoid it.
When he saw a fifth ambulance heading toward the already overloaded emergency bay, Owen stopped short from where he was hurrying out to help unload the others and turned back inside.
He spotted intern Casey Parker first, heading around the desk to answer one of the multiple ringing phones.
"Parker!" he barked, watching the young man's head snap up toward him in surprise. " Get on the phone to all the area hospitals. Tell them we're maxed and can't take any more ambulances! "
Parker snapped straight up. "Yes, sir, Major!"
Owen saw the young man physically stop himself from saluting. He rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smirk.
Meredith and Helm came rushing past him pushing a gurney. A woman lay on it moaning through an oxygen mask.
"Out of the way!" Grey ordered, trying to maneuver past the throng of nurses and doctors blocking them.
Next to the desk, Kepner was swiping frantically through the iPad she held, trying to categorize the most urgent injuries.
"Take this one to Trauma 3," she yelled over the hubbub of noise, placing a hand briefly on the rail of a gurney being rolled past her. The boy on it was severely burned and barely conscious. " Someone page Dr. Avery, stat. "
Maggie was bringing up the rear of the gurney. "I'm on it," she replied briskly.
Dr. Webber raised his head from where he was examining a man on one of the beds nearby. "I need Nuero over here!"
Outside, Owen pulled open the door to another ambulance.
"65 year-old female, blunt force trauma to the head," the EMT, Nicole , reported from inside. Owen stepped in and immediately began assessing the patient. "Unrestrained passenger of a car behind the semi. Airbag stopped her from being ejected, but she hit the dashboard going 60 miles an hour. Pupils unequal and pulse is 38 over 60."
Already seeing how dire the woman's condition was, Owen quickly pulled the gurney out and rushed it inside.
Five hours later, into the very early morning hours, Owen stood next to April and breathed a sigh, looking at the finally-controlled emergency room. Most of the beds were empty and the remaining patients were not urgent. The floor was empty of doctors and only a handful of nurses were around.
Kepner rolled her shoulders, echoing the sentiment of relief. "That was insane," she said tiredly. She blew through her cheeks and checked her watch. "How long are you here till?"
"All day," he replied. He saw the question she wanted to ask. It was obvious she was about to drop on her feet. "Go get some sleep. I'll page you if I need you."
She smiled gratefully. "Well, make sure you get some rest-"
Before she could finish her sentence, a man being led past them from the waiting room stopped short and abruptly vomited right into Owen's shoes. She grimaced as he closed his eyes briefly in exasperation.
"-Yourself," she finished lamely.
Owen scrunched up his face. He waved his hand at the man reassuringly and offered a wry smirk to April as she walked away. Sighing, he started heading to change his shoes, but hearing the squelch of vomit as he walked, he changed his mind and went outside to stomp the worst of it off first.
He started to bang his feet right away, and then thought better of it, not wanting any other doctor to have the unpleasant experience of slogging through it on the way in. He walked over to the far corner of the building instead.
"Hey."
A quiet voice somewhere in the dark behind him startled him and he turned his head. He could just barely make out a figure about ten feet away.
"You need some help?" Owen asked, pausing.
"Yeah, " the male voice replied.
The man sounded shaky and Owen was concerned.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
He made his way toward the man quickly. As he got closer, he saw the man looked young and wore a tattered coat.
"I -I need -" he began stuttering as Owen approached.
Owen spoke to him reassuringly. "It's ok," he said. "I'm Dr. Hunt." He reached to put a gentle hand on the young man's arm. "Why don't you come inside-"
"No, I-I just-" the man said haltingly. He moved out of Owen's grasp and Owen looked at him in surprise when he spoke crystal clearly. "You have anything you can get me from in there, man? Maybe a little Fentanyl or something?"
Owen narrowed his eyes. Realizing what the man was after, he set his jaw menacingly.
"If you need medical help, come and check in to the ER," he said firmly. "If you're looking for a quick score, you go somewhere else. You got it?"
The young man looked half crazed. Owen could see that he was already high.
"Come on," the man pleaded. "Please. Just a little. Just a little. Be cool."
Owen stepped aggressively toward him, making him shrink back, and gripped his arm harder.
"Get lost," he ordered. "You come near my ER again looking for drugs and I'll call the cops." He let the man go roughly. "Get gone. I mean it."
The young man sneered at Owen but backed away.
"Screw you, man, " he spat out as he disappeared back into the darkness.
Owen watched him and then began heading back inside. He intended to call security as soon as he got in and warn them to watch out for that guy trying to come back.
He hated drug seekers. They always tried to-
He made it exactly four steps and then searing agony suddenly exploded into his lower right ribs. He gasped in shock, dimly registering a hand jamming a blade into his flesh.
Pain and shock held him immobile and the blade came out. It returned hard, stabbing into his right side and again into his ribs, over and over.
It seemed to last forever and Owen felt his equilibrium spinning. Finally, the knife retreated and he collapsed to the ground with a pained whoosh of air.
He lay stunned, gasping for breath and trying to process what had just happened.
He dimly recognized the tattered jacket as footsteps ran away.
Alone in the dark on the hard pavement, far from where anyone walking out would easily spot him, Owen reached a shaking hand toward where he felt the worst of the pain.
Seeing his hand slick with blood when he lifted it to see made reality slam into him and he began to hyperventilate.
Move. I need to move. Have to get inside.
He was shaking. As hard as he tried to will himself to move...he couldnt.
He opened his mouth and tried to call for help. All he could muster was a weak moan.
It hurt. Oh, Jesus, it hurt so much.
Owen swallowed hard, trying to stop gasping for air. He was going to pass out frighteningly soon and no one knew he was there.
His vision began darkening.
Please, he prayed to whoever was listening as he sank into oblivion. Please don't let me die out here alone.
