My Unhappy Ending, a casualty fanfic

My Unhappy Ending.

Greg would never have believed in all the years he had been a paramedic, that he would give up like this. He felt weak. Dixie had been there, trying to persuade him to stay, her arms curled around him into a tight hug. His head had been buried into her arm and his hands gripped her arms. It was only a matter of time before he broke, revealing the true emotional side to him. He had grown close to that little girl, Ruby. Perhaps a little too close. Then to watch the doctors and nurses turn off the machine, her skin cyanosed. He couldn't bear it anymore. Her father had lost his wife, then her. And to top it off, little Greg died too. That's it, Greg. You've made your choice. You've broke. And now you're saying goodbye to Holby permanently.

Greg stared down at the dead Tamagotchi in his hands. The little creature was still bobbing up and down the screen flapping tiny angel wings. Yeah. Another little angel in heaven. Greg entwined the cold keychain around his fingers, his eyes never leaving the screen. Tears stung his eyes. He sniffed and ran the back of his hand across his face. But not even his hand could stop the tears forming and falling. He blinked them down his chiselled cheeks. A whole life she could have had in front of her. She was only eight. And here it was that she would stay eight. Never grow old. His mouth widened in anguish, bowing his head and closing his hands tight around the Tamagotchi. He brought the Tamagotchi in close to his forehead, his long dark hair falling about his wrists and his shoulders shuddering with wracked sobs. Who would miss me? What do I do now? Why did she have to go? I can't cope with this anymore… " You're a good paramedic, Greg…" " Well, there's a first…"

Greg ran his shaking hands up and down his face, reddening his cheeks and smearing his tears. His throat hurt. He felt nauseous. It didn't have to be that way. His whole body ached for sleep. But he knew he'd never sleep again. Ruby's smiling face stared back at him every time he closed his eyes. Flashes of the kid falling. Flashes of the blood. He was alone at that scene. Could I have stopped it? I could have stopped it. The guilty thoughts pooled in the front of his mind. There hadn't been anything more he could have done. He wasn't to know that the canisters of carbon tetrachloride were going to kill Ruby. He wasn't aware that the canisters even contained carbon tetrachloride. If he was going to go, he would rather have gone in a dignified manner, not as a man who wept out his guilty and traumatic thoughts. He couldn't turn down the shout.

He didn't want to leave the warm comfort of the ambulance. Nor did he want to stay there. The whole scene played over and over in his head like a broken movie. If he could have turned back time, he would. He lay down on the trolley and turned to face the bench where dressing packs were stored underneath. He drew his knees into his stomach. A small piece of hair fell over his face across his nose. Dixie would find him sooner or later. But he didn't care anymore. Nothing meant anything to him anymore. The ambulance doors opened, letting in a gush of cold night air and shedding a block of orange light from the street lamps outside. Greg curled up tighter, pulling the Tamagotchi into his chest. A figure filled the space in the doors.

" Go away," mumbled Greg.

" Greg? You can't stay in here, love." Greg's body shook again, tears falling again, running across his face and dripping from his nose, " Greg, honey?"

" Leave me alone." The figure came forward and perched themselves on the edge of the trolley. A warm hand stroked his hair out of his face, only for it to fall back. He let out a whimper, pressing his eyes shut, forcing more tears out.

" It's Dixie, Greg." Greg opened his mouth to speak, but no words came, only whimpers. Dixie rubbed his arm, " Come on, honey. Let's get you some coffee." Greg turned over so that Dixie could see his tear-stricken face. She pulled a concerned expression and held out her arms. He fell forward into her arms, sobbing. She caressed his hair and rubbed his back in circles, " There, there."

" I'm- sorry. I- sound- like- a- right- wuss." he sobbed.

" No. You've had a trying day. We'll get you some coffee." Greg looked up at her and nodded, his cheeks shiny with tears.

The hospital corridors were all blocked with patients from the accident. Instead of the usual smell of disinfectant lingering, the disgusting stench of blood and petrol tingled Greg's nostrils. This wasn't Holby General. This shouldn't have been Holby General. Dixie's arm was wrapped around his waist, leading him to the E.D. On the way past, she met with Tess. Tess looked solemnly at Greg with tears in her eyes too.

" Tess. Is there any chance that I can sit Greg down in the staff room and make him some coffee?"

" Yes, of course." Tess hurried off down the corridor. Dixie watched after her, then opened the staff room door for Greg. He stepped inside and looked around. At least this room didn't smell of blood or petrol or sweat. Just coffee. Greg swallowed the emotional lump in his throat. He sunk into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

" Coffee, Greg?" He nodded behind his shaking hands. Cups clattered against the drainer of the sink, and the kettle bubbled away. Greg slowly raised his head and rubbed his temples. All of his crying had given him a migraine. The pain spread down the sides of his face and put pressure behind his eyes. He began to feel nauseous. Dixie turned to look at him with her back to the cups and steaming kettle, her palms pressed to the edge of the bench.

" Greg? Are you okay?"

" Yeah. I'm fine. Just another migraine."

" Do you want some painkillers?" Greg shook his head. Dixie smiled and reached up into the cupboard above her. A small box dropped onto the bench in front of her, narrowly missing the cup that had a spoon sticking out of the top of it. She gave a sigh of relief and used her nails to pop two caplets out of the blister pack. She dropped them onto the bench beside the box as she took a glass from the drainer and filled it with cold water. She handed it to Greg along with the caplets. He accepted with a smile he quickly regretted. He tipped his head back and let the caplets slip from his palm into his mouth. He swallowed them with a long drink of water, then

He nodded behind his shaking hands. Cups clattered against the drainer of the sink, and the kettle bubbled away. Greg slowly raised his head and rubbed his temples. All of his crying had given him a migraine. The pain spread down the sides of his face and put pressure behind his eyes. He began to feel nauseous. Dixie turned to look at him with her back to the cups and steaming kettle, her palms pressed to the edge of the bench.

" Greg? Are you okay?"

" Yeah. I'm fine. Just another migraine."

Dixie looked up from last week's issue of 'Now' magazine to see Greg curled up asleep on the sofa. His back gently rose and fell. He finally looked peaceful, and she after the day he had, she didn't want to wake him. He barely twitched. For maybe a second or so, Dixie noticed why Cyd had fallen for him. Just recent times had given him stubble, providing him with the rugged look. But he had those chiselled facial features, shadows under his well-defined cheekbones. Stunning blue eyes. His long hair, though again looking worn from past weeks, hung down over his green and yellow coat. A piece of hair hung across his face over his nose. He had a tendency to be a prick at times. That was what caused their split in the first place. But as Dixie sat and admired the sleeping man, she realised that she had made an enemy out of a good man, and excellent paramedic. And here he was, having some sleep, then handing in his resignation. She had Jeff, yes, but things wouldn't be the same. She no longer had Cyd to have a laugh with. Greg would vanish, so she had no one to yell at or call a liability. She would only have Jeff to hit for calling her 'princess'.

Greg looked lifeless. Dixie's heart leapt into her throat at the very thought of him trying to take his own life. She didn't want him to go. She hated to admit it. He twitched a little, letting out a small moan. Dixie closed the magazine and sighed. Perhaps I should wake him now… Greg stirred once more and his brow furrowed. His movements quickened and sweat beaded his brow.

" Ruby! Ruby! Stay with me, Ruby! You can't go yet! Ruby! Please?!" he yelled. Dixie grew concerned and leaned forward.

" Greg? Greg! Come on, wake up!" Realising that Greg's actions weren't slowing any, Dixie tossed the magazine aside and tried to pin him down. He fought against her, his hips and legs thrashing against the cushions,

" Greg! Wake up, Greg!" Tears streaked Greg's face and he threw back his head so that he revealed the veins in his neck.

" RUBY!!!!!" yelled Greg. He settled, his arms quickly turning red. Dixie panted and looked down at the again-peaceful paramedic.

He had been asleep for at least two hours. He sniffed, catching a whiff of coffee. He slowly opened his eyes, his pupils adjusting to the light. Dixie had dozed off in the chair opposite. She quickly opened her eyes to the sound of shuffling, making Greg press a hand to his heart in fright. He looked away, his hair hanging over his face, and even more rugged than before.

" Hello, sleeping beauty. You alright?" she smiled.

" Fine. How long have I been asleep?" he asked, holding his forehead.

" At least two hours."

" Two hours?"
" Yeah. You had a nightmare, Greg." He looked at her in a questioning expression, " Why don't you go home?" Greg sat in silence, weighing up his options. If he went home, no one else would die at his expense, however if he stayed, someone would die and he would be a coward. He frowned, his chin in his hand. Not being able to make a decision, he nodded. Dixie smiled.

" Go on, chick. Get yourself home. Have a shower, get some sleep." He nodded once more and came to his feet. He staggered a little. Dixie set her cup down and stood up, " I'll drive you home in the ambulance. Pick your bike up in the morning." She moved past him and opened the door for him. He stepped past her with a tiny smile and started down the corridor, his arms crossed, holding his coat tight around him.

Greg didn't attempt to get changed. Dixie had made sure he was in the house and settled before she left. He sat on the sofa with his feet up on the table and a blister pack of painkillers in his hand. He fought to stay awake, knowing only too well that he would have that nightmare again. He glanced at the painkillers and sighed, throwing them onto the table top. He swung his legs down from the table and ran his hand up and down his face. The blister pack was missing half of its tablets. Greg came to his feet and started up stairs. He held onto the banister with one hand, while holding his head with the other.

He pushed open his bedroom door to a room decorated in bright blue, with a dark blue duvet adorning his double bed. He unfastened his coat with weak fingers and slipped it off, allowing it to drop to the floor at his feet. With half-closed eyes, Greg threw himself onto his bed, drifting off into sleep.

Ruby! Ruby! Stay with me! Someone help me! Ruby!!! Please?! Don't die… Please…

" She's still in A-systole. I think we should stop. Adam, stop."

" I'm sorry…"

" Would you do something for me?"

" Of course."

" I don't want them to be alone…" The mortician didn't want to know. It's a great big fridge.

" I can't do it anymore, Dix…"

" Greg? Greg! Come on, hun. Greg! You're late for work!" Greg did not stir,

" I'm coming in!" Dixie searched around the front door. She was in her full uniform, and her ambulance was parked outside. Greg had hidden a spare key just under a plant pot by the door, where Cyd had told her about. She unlocked the front door and pushed it open, allowing the cold air to rush out; he hadn't even put the heating on.

" Greg?" She peered into the sitting room. All she found was the half-empty blister pack. She frowned, realising what was wrong and ran up the stairs, her bosom bouncing and her hand sliding up the rail, " Greg!" His room was the first one she came to where the door was open a crack. She forcefully pushed it open so that it slammed against the wall behind it. Greg lay still on his bed, his right arm hanging down the side of the bed. Dixie's eyes widened with shock and hurried to his side. She tilted her head so that she looked down his body. No breath blew against her face. Jeff had been in the driver's seat of the ambulance and growing impatient.

" Dixie? Dix! Hello, you up there?" came his voice from the bottom of the stairs. Dixie straightened up.

" I'm up here, Jeff! Fetch me the bag!" Dixie turned back to Greg. She pressed two fingers to the side of his neck- no pulse. A vehicle door slammed shut, then within seconds, footsteps came up the stairs. Jeff's figure appeared at the doorway, looking upon Greg in horror. He moved over to the bed and dropped the bag on the quilt beside Greg.

" Help me lift him onto the floor." she said. She took Greg's ankles, and Jeff took his shoulders. On a count of three, they lifted him from the bed and lowered him to the floor. Dixie snatched the bag from the bed and knelt down beside Greg on his left. She placed the bag beside her knee and unzipped it. Jeff knelt above Greg's head. Dixie handed Jeff the ambu-bag. Jeff placed it over Greg's nose and mouth, gently squeezing the bag. Dixie locked her fingers together and began pushing down on Greg's chest.

" One… Two… Three… Come on, Greg…"

After fifteen compressions, Dixie tried his pulse again. Jeff had brought the portable ECG and defibrillators with him. Dixie tore open Greg's shirt to reveal a toned torso. She stuck some small white discs to his chest, then connected the leads to them, then to the ECG. She switched it on and watched the thin green line moving straight. She let out a sigh of exasperation and slapped two orange pads to his chest. Jeff moved the mask away. Dixie took the paddles into her hands and held them on the pads. Jeff fiddled with the knobs a little to get it to the right voltage.

" Charging to three-sixty. Oxygen out of the way?" She looked up to see the mask hanging by Greg's cyanosed face, " All clear, and shocking!" She pressed the little buttons on the underside of each paddle handle. Greg's body leapt up from the floor, then crashed back down again. Dixie looked back at the ECG. Still nothing.

" Okay. Charging to three-sixty again. Oxygen out of the way? All clear, and shocking!" Greg's body arched from the floor again, then fell. The ECG still read flat-line, " Resume CPR." Jeff put the mask back over Greg's face and squeezed. Dixie pulled an IV out of the bag and ripped open the pack. She set it into her hand and carefully pushed it into the back of Greg's hand. She took another small tube out of the bag and pushed the needle into the IV. She secured the cannula in place with some sticky plaster, then relocked her fingers and continued chest compressions. Greg was still flat-line.

" Jeff. This is no good. Swap places. I need to intubate him." Jeff swapped places with her and resumed her compressions. Dixie dragged the bag with her and took out the laryngoscope and a tube. She took off the mask and set the cold metal against Greg's tongue, pushing it down and shining a light down his throat. She slowly guided the tube past the laryngoscope and down his throat, " I'm in." She pushed another plastic piece on the end of the tube and secured it with some white string around his head. She took the bag from the mask and clicked it onto the tube. She continued squeezing.

" Come on, Greg…" Sweat beaded her brow.

Footsteps came up the stairs and Maggie appeared at the door in a blue jumpsuit and Hi-Vis coat. She knelt down beside Dixie and looked down Greg's lifeless figure.

" Any luck?" Dixie shook her head.

" We've been going nearly half an hour and there's still nothing."

" Okay. Let's give him an adrenaline injection straight into the heart." Maggie opened her bag and pulled out a large syringe. She took out a bottle and filled the syringe. She pulled the mint-coloured cap off, revealing a long needle. She brought the point to his chest where his heart was and pushed down. There was a pop which suggested she was in. She pressed the contents in, then looked at the ECG. Still nothing.

" Continue CPR." She watched as the two paramedics work together, her blue eyes falling upon the lifeless paramedic's face. His skin was grey, and around his eyes were black. His lips were of a pale blue. Maggie held up a hand, halting the

paramedics. Dixie raised her eyebrows.

" Stop. It's been thirty-five minutes."

" No. I can't stop on him now." panted Dixie, trying to continue the artificial breaths. Jeff watched her, sat back on his heels and his hands on his thighs. Tears streaked Dixie's face. Jeff crawled across to her and prized her hands off the bag.

" Stop, Dix. You can't do anymore." She sat back on her heels and buried her head in her palms, sobbing. Jeff curled his arms around her, cradling her. She hid her face in his chest, her tears soaking her shirt. Maggie felt the tears overwhelming her too. She glanced down at her watch.

" Time of death: ten fifty-two."

The journey back to Holby E.D was solemn and depressing. Dixie sat in silence, staring out of the passenger window. Jeff drove, a lump forming in his throat that he would drown later in beer. Maggie followed behind in her on-call doctor car. Jeff pulled down on the hand-brake and stopped outside of the bustling hospital. He climbed out first, then went to open the door for Dixie. She jumped out too, and together they wandered around to the back of the ambulance. Maggie had stopped just behind them. They opened the doors and dragged the trolley out that bore a shrouded heap. Maggie closed the doors after them, and walked side by side with them into the hospital.

Adam was already in the reception when Maggie, Dixie and Jeff entered with the trolley. He joined them in pushing him into the resuscitation room. He opened the doors for them, then followed. Jeff and Dixie stopped by another trolley. Adam and Maggie took one side of the board Greg lay on, and Jeff and Dixie took the other.

" On the count of three. One… Two… Three…" said Adam. They all lifted on count, then lowered it onto the trolley. Jeff wrapped his arm defensively around Dixie's shoulders and led her out of the room. Adam watched them, then looked up at Maggie who shook her head. Adam pulled back the sheet, then frowned.

" Get Big Mac to take him to the mortuary. We'll need a toxicology report."

" Overdose on painkillers. Sumatriptan for his migraines." Adam nodded.

" Well, get Big Mac to take him down to the mortuary. Then whoever wants to see him before he goes in the fridge."

" That's unnecessary, Adam."

" What? That's what it is." Maggie shook her head and stalked away.