A/N: Oh wow look an update! I just want to say how grateful (and amazed) I am by the response to this story. I really didn't think many people would be interested and to find out that you are and that you like it (so far) really, I'm so grateful. Hope I don't let you down :)
So I spent a lot of time doing research for the medical parts of this fic (a lot of time) and eventually I just gave up because it was detracting too much from the writing. So I've tried to be as accurate as possible but there will be errors, just a warning. I have absolutely no medical qualifications so it's basically just stuff I've garnered from the internet. I think (well I'm hoping) that everyone's more focused on the story rather than the technical things so it won't be a huge problem.
Anyway, without further ado, go forth my pretties and read!
...
"SHOCK, n: the impact or encounter of individuals or groups in combat; a disturbance in the equilibrium or permanence of something; a sudden strong unpleasant or upsetting feeling; a state of profound depression of the vital processes associated with reduced blood volume and pressure and caused usually by severe especially crushing injuries, hemorrhage, or burns."
When Delphine wakes, it's to cold fingers at her neck. Her first thought is that someone is trying to strangle her and she shudders away. However, the opening of her eyes reveals the blurred figure of a familiar blonde.
"Your pulse is faster than I'd like," she says, retracting her hand. "But better than it could be considering." Her gaze travels down to the prone woman's midsection, lips thinning. "Come on, we need to get inside."
At her words, Delphine realizes that she is hunched over in the passenger seat of Shay's car, a fastened seat belt the only thing holding her up right. From what she can see, they have left the underground car park and are now in a minimally populated shared garage. She tries to remember passing out - whether it had been before or after she got in the car - but cannot. Her last memory is of struggling to rise from the ground, intent on making the short but far too long distance to the other woman's car.
She blinks, struggling to orient, pain crystallizing the present and drawing her attention to her wound. Her hand is still there, loose where it was once applying pressure, a job that the strap of her seat belt has been arranged to take over. The reminder makes her press down once more.
She is too exhausted, too disorientated to help Shay as she moves to unfasten her seatbelt. Biting down on her lip, the other woman inspects the wound, and the smell of peaches assaults Delphine as blonde hair brushes her face.
"You're beginning to bleed through . . ."
She withdraws, disappearing for a moment to duck into the backseat. Delphine closes her eyes on a shallow breath, trying to steady the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She feels shaky, a painful mix of too hot and too cold that leaves her nauseous.
Her mind calculates, analyzes the facts to form the most likely diagnosis: the beginning of hypovolemic shock. She needs blood and intravenous to counteract, none of which are available to her now, or will ever be. The most she can hope for is a stop to the bleeding, and that her body will endure long enough to create new blood cells.
It might be too tall an order.
Shay returns in an instant, a thin red scarf - meant more for ascetic purposes than warmth - in hand, which she promptly wraps tight around the wound. Delphine grimaces and forces herself to lean forward to accommodate the action.
"M-My jacket . . ." She gasps. It seems only fair that she use her own clothes to dress her injury, especially considering Shay has very little left to give. The night is cold and up this close, Delphine can see the rising goose bumps on the younger woman's bare flesh, its only protection a faded mauve bra.
Shay shivers as she finishes tying off the makeshift bandage but shakes her head. "No, you need to say warm. Last thing we need right now is for you to get hypothermia." She glances up from the wound to meet Delphine's gaze. "You're a doctor, so I take it you know what I'm talking about."
She tries to nod but her muscles can't quite manage it."Oui-" Breathe. "Yes."
Shay sighs before reaching for her again, arms snaking around her trembling form. "Come on. We're wasting time."
It is only by divine intervention or perhaps the universe's form of pity, that they manage to stumble their way out of the garage and into Shay's apartment.
"Thank god I'm on the first floor," the smaller woman mutters, finishing up with her fumbling to open the door and reaching out for Delphine once more. The doctor has been leaning against the wall, eyes closed, body drooping further and further towards the floor. The idea of falling into a puddle and remaining there is beginning to sound tempting.
The touch startles her and she flinches, eyes snapping open.
Shay offers a smile that isn't entirely sincere but still attempts to be reassuring. "It's open. Come on."
Delphine has been in Shay's apartment twice before and neither times pose fond memories for her. With the addition of this one - a new low - it seems the trend will not be broken anytime soon. She remembers in her first visit, taking a brief scan of the place, and finding it entirely too bohemian for her - a bath tub in the entrance room, really?
But not so for Cosima. It struck her as a place that her girlfriend - former girlfriend would . . . love. A place that she would even find herself at home in.
The knowledge stung. Even know, it pricks at the last vestiges of her heart.
She tries not to think about that, though, as she and Shay stumble over to the bed, the other woman lowering her carefully down onto the comforter. Delphine forces herself to remain upright and not tumble back into the alluring depths of unconsciousness.
There is the sound of rifling, things knocking over and the occasional swear word. Delphine closes her eyes and breathes.
When Shay returns, it is prepared. She has a first aid kit in hand, some scissors and a bowl of water from the kitchen. And towels, lots of towels. Opening the kit, she retrieves some rolled cotton, several rolls of gauze and some gloves. She puts the gloves on with a snap, despite the fact that most of the damage posed by contamination has already been done.
Hands hesitating over Delphine's wound, she takes a deep breath and begins the process of unwrapping the poor excuse for a bandage. "I'm . . . It's been a long time since I've done this so . . ." She trails off, a nervousness in the shake of her voice that she tries to hide.
Delphine winches as the last layer is pulled away, her skin sticking to it and pulling at the wound. She exhales when it is over. "You were a Health Care Specialist-" Another breath. "In the military?"
Shay hesitates but soon moves on, cutting off some cotton pads and sinking them into the bowl of water. She presses the pad into her wound, moving it in a circular motion to clean. Delphine gasps, nails digging into the bedsheets as she closes her eyes against the agony.
"Sorry," she says, not sounding apologetic at all. "So, you were the one behind that background check, huh?" She shakes her head, smiling at her own naivety. "Of course you were." After cleaning the surrounding area, she cuts off another piece which she uses to pat dry the wound. "Yeah, I was a medic. But that was a . . . long time ago."
Delphine thinks about apologizing but, like Shay, it would insincere. She cannot find it in her to be sorry for looking out for Cosima, for doing her best to ensure her safety. She will never be sorry for that. And she will not insult Shay now by lying to her.
She doubts her ability to lie through the pain, anyhow.
She moves around her and begins cleaning the exit wound on her back, dipping a new piece of padding into the water. "It's good that it was such a clean shot. Straight through, I saw the bullet embedded in the car. If we're lucky, it missed your vital organs."
Delphine nods, wincing the invasive motion. She was indeed lucky. She's no ballistic expert but she knows bullets have a tendency to fragment, shards exploding out and making a mess of all surrounding organs. They can also go on a a bit journey before leaving the body, if they ever do. A bullet entering the chest might end up exiting through the neck, or a buttock, tearing through the multitude of organs in its wake.
Hers was direct in its passage, though. It's perhaps the only good luck she's had since this whole mess began.
"Has it started to clot yet?" She tries to get a look herself but her vision is hazy, dark spots dancing in and out.
"A little . . ."
Shay reaches for the rolled cotton and scissors, snipping some off in order to make a sizable padding. Delphine loses focus for a moment, coming to when her stomach cries out as the padding is pressed down, almost in. Shay ignores her flinch, replicating the process with the wound on her back, and Delphine clenches her fists against the pain. Grabbing the a roll of gauze, she then sets about wrapping it around her midsection, over and over again, keeping the padding in place.
"Can you keep pressure on the front one?" she asks, not waiting for a reply before pressing down on the exit wound.
Delphine exhales a shaky breath but manages to maneuver a hand to do so. She cannot remember the last time she felt so weak, like her limbs might fall off under their own weight. No, that is a lie.
There is an image of water lapping around her, flushing scarlet with the descent of time and, for a moment, the pain in her stomach extends to her wrists. It is a phantom sensation, mocking her and her nails dig into the bedsheets, fighting to dispel it.
"I should call Cosima."
The statement brings her back, making her flinch. "No." she protests even as the thought of Cosima, by her side, holding her hand through the pain awakes a awful yearning in her.
The younger woman blinks. "You can't be serious? She should be here."
She takes a breath, tries to find that power and intimidation that has served her so well (not so well) whilst masquerading in Rachel's shoes. It is an attribute still so foreign to her. "No."
"Look, I don't know the story with you guys, and by this point I don't really give a damn, but I know that she loves you." She swallows, avoiding Delphine's gaze. She can make out the hurt, though, the exhaustion; the same feelings that have been dogging her for months. For a moment she feels empathy for Shay, for this woman who has so far only held her contempt and, at one point, even loathing. Delphine chose to become tangled up in this mess, first when she joined DYAD and then again when she sided with Cosima and her sisters. She chose this. And it's becoming increasingly apparent that Shay's only choice was to accept a date over the internet. But is this really what you had in mind that day, when you left that report behind for to find?"She should be here. In case."
In case her blood loss proves to severe; in case the damage rout by the bullet is more than her body can contend with; in case she goes into shock and her heart gives out under stress; in case a surgery she cannot have becomes the only option left to her.
Delphine shakes her head, though. "In case is exactly why she can't be here. I won't have her see this. See that. If I die," the word shouldn't be so painful, she has long since accepted the inevitability of her fate, "Cosima will only blame herself."
Shay crosses her arms, still seeming unconvinced, and she begins to panic. What if she calls her anyway. She can't have her here - she wants her here - she can't - if she sees this - but she needs her - Cosima can't -
"You owe me nothing, I know this. But for Cosima's sake. If I die, she cannot know. I will not do that to her."
Shay reels back as if slapped. "You want me to lie to her?"
Delphine hardens her gaze. "Because you have been so opposed to the idea in the past?"
"This is a little bit bigger than whether or not I still practice Chinese Medicine," she says flatly.
The doctor hesitates. "Please. It will ruin her."
Shay purses her lips but doesn't protest again. "Fine."
She grabs one of Delphine's hands, maneuvering it behind to take her place over the wound. "You need fluids," she explains, rising and quickly fetching a glass of water. When she returns, she holds it carefully to Delphine's lips, helping her to take a grateful sip. "An IV would be great . . ." Delphine takes another swallow and Shay bites down on her lip. "I called someone."
She nearly chokes. Cosima-
But, no, they went over this. "Qui?" She shakes her, for a moment the English failing to come to mind. "Who?"
Shay lowers the glass. "A friend. He's safe, trustworthy. He's also a trauma surgeon. I called him in the car."
Why do they need a surgeon? The thought appears, laughable for the instant it takes to answer. She shivers but accepts when Shay raises the glass for her to take another sip.
The world fades in and out, realigns. Several times, she finds herself struggling to remember where she is.
"Delphine." There's a hand on her cheek, hot, too hot. She draws back. The hand slips to her neck, feeling the racing thud of a pulse beneath. It smacks the skin there, bidding for attention. "Delphine!"
"Ici." She is a girl, caught dazing off in class, lost in daydreams and nightmares alike. The professor's voice snaps down on her, clawing her back.
"Delphine, I need you tell me what's going on," the professor demands. The girl shies away. "What are you feeling?"
She blinks, the world focuses, and Shay is there, face close to hers, hand on her neck. There's a smudge of red on her nose - blood. "Froid."
There is something in her throat, fighting her breath and she chokes, coughs. She doubles over, head narrowly missing a collision with Shay's, and raises a hand to her mouth. Burning, her throat is burning, strangling her. Her hand comes away covered in blood but she can't remember if it was always that way. There is so much blood on her now.
Fear spikes at her chest as the light begins to fade. Is this what Nealon felt, at the end?
"Breathe." The voice is a reminder and she takes in a gasp, closing her eyes against the hand that soothes up and down her back. "You're OK. You're OK."
That is a lie. She has not been OK for a very long time, and she is certainly not OK now. But she lets the lie wash over her, ease the strain of her muscles as she allows herself to be eased down onto the bed.
"I've got you, just breathe."
Darkness comes with the feel of a hand against her face and she lets herself sink into it.
Will Cosima be there, waiting for her in its depths?
...
So yay or nay? It wasn't a very long chapter but I figured something was better than nothing. I'm going to aim (no promises) to update once a week. The next chapter will be from Shay's P.O.V. Also, if there's anything any of you guys want to see happen send me a message! I might not be able to include it (depending on if it fits with where I'm going with this, I've got a pretty clear picture in my head) but some inspiration would be great :) Also, I'd just love to hear from you!
Translations:
Froid: cold
Qui: who, whom
Ici: here