Leslie took a deep breath and sighed shakily. It was the goriest thing she had ever seen, and she had watched plenty of horror movies to last her three lifetimes. She sneaked a glance at her partner and noticed that she was almost as dazed as herself; albeit she had to give Gabby credit for keeping a relatively believable poker-face. However, she knew Gabby better than she knew herself sometimes. And while she would reluctantly admit it, Gabby knew her inside out and then some. Gabby probably knew how hard Leslie's heart was pounding.
Those people.
She didn't know how to mentally prepare herself for a mass accident. She never knew how to do those things. She had never ever seen one this horrific. And she was scared shitless.
"W-well. Um. I-I think we should go. Right. Go. Do. Mhmm. Yep-"
"Shay."
"Gloves. R-right. Um. Keep em' talking. Yes. This is – I mean – we should – go? Right. Yes. No. What's our-"
"Shay."
"Should we wait? I mean – Severide's still with. I guess we should. There's enough of us-"
Gabby picked up a glove that had fallen out of Leslie's trembling fingers and easily guided one shaking hand through it. She could feel Leslie's pulse quickening through her wrist.
"Hi." Gabby said with a small grin.
"Hey." Piercing blue eyes turned to meet hers.
"You're okay." She said softly trying to reassure them both.
Leslie took a deep breath.
"I'm okay." She hated how uncertain she sounded.
"Good. Let's get em'."
…
"Hey there. What's your name, little guy? Leslie asked hoping her voice wouldn't break.
So young.
"I'm Leslie, and that's Gabby over there." She pointed at her partner who was busy snipping through another patient's clothes and speaking in a soft, soothing tone. Leslie was still amazed at how calm and rational Gabby was.
The boy in front of her looked quite young. No older than nine at most. Dark, messy brown hair that she suspected stayed that way all the time. And huge, round chestnut coloured eyes that matched his hair. He looked remarkably like a boy she knew from the second grade. She wracked her brain for a second trying to recall his name.
"I'm not little!" He scoffed indignantly trying his best not to cry. He weakly pulled at his barely distinguishable blue shirt. It was streaked crimson. She couldn't begin to imagine the injuries he had received. Leslie willed herself to continue speaking while gently pressing two fingers to the boy's neck, not unlike she had with Gabby hours earlier.
"Sure you are, I mean, you're tinier than Dawson." She continued with a wink. Gabby feigned anger and growled passing over a pair of scissors.
"Hey! My name is Owen. I'm almost nine. I'm not little. I can be in little league with my brothers next summer!" A weak grin spread across his rapidly paling face. His huge eyes were shone bright with earnest. He trusted her.
"Owen, buddy. You gotta keep your eyes open, alright? Want to play a game? I'll name my favourite baseball players startin' with Chase Utley. Your turn." Leslie said. No no no no no. Not this boy. For God's sake, he was going to live damnit.
"I really like Reggie Jackson. I feel really tired though, Leslie. May I close my eyes? Just for a bit." he muttered sleepily.
"No Owen, you have to stay awake buddy." Leslie glanced desperately at Gabby who was still busy with her patient and fought to keep her tears from blurring her vision. She turned back to face her young patient and he smiled weakly.
"Am I dying, Leslie? It's okay if I am, you know." He said blinking heavily. Although he spoke softly, his voice was even and unwavering. He pulled at his shirt again and let out a pained groan. He blinked and stared at her. Those eyes. He trusted her. She needed to do something.
"No you're not, little guy. You still gotta play in Little League, remember? Don't you want to play anymore? I'd love to watch you play a game." She said, carefully cutting through his blood-stained jeans. She bit back a string of curse-words as she saw the mangled limb up close. She sucked in a breath of oxygen and steeled herself to continue.
"I don't feel like playing right now." He murmured, his eyelids fluttering as he spoke.
"Stay with me, Owen! Eyes open, okay? We're going to play baseball!" she whispered frantically. She lifted his tanned hand to the back of her neck stupidly wanting his heartbeats to match her own. His hands were like ice. Leslie's heart was pounding so hard, she could swear that it had moved up to be the ridiculous lump in her throat. She swallowed a sob and blinked tears away. No. He was going to be okay. He'd play Little League and she would watch a baseball game of–
"But it hurts. Only for a-"
"Owen? Hey buddy? You're going to be alright. Eyes open, okay?" His trusting chestnut eyes met with her blue ones and she desperately hoped that her fear wasn't showing. Leslie manoeuvred the scissors through the boy's shirt with fast and careful movements. He was going to be okay.
Her heart shattered at what she saw. There was unquestionably, no way. But she had to. He trusted her. Those eyes. Owen's eyelids fluttered slowly.
God please.
A ridiculous memory ran through her head. His name was Oscar. The boy at her school. She suddenly recalled his name.
Oscar. Owen.
Huh.
"Hey Leslie? I can't-" His jaw went slack. Small fingers loosened from the soft grip on the back of Leslie's neck and dropped limply to his side. No.
His eyelids fluttered closed. She needed to see those eyes again. They trusted her.
"No." Her voice became thick. "No. No. No. God no. Please! Owen?!"
She softly pressed two fingers to his throat and prayed for a pulse. She didn't even believe in God what the fuck was she doing. She didn't know how to do this praying thing, she highly suspected that God put her on hold or something. She made a mental note to ask Gabby to teach her how to do this praying thing right.
"Owen?"
She swatted furiously at hot tears streaming down her face. He had to be alive. He had to. He trusted her. It would be stupid if he was dead. She promised him a baseball game.
"Owen please. Stay awake for me, please?" She ran a gloved hand through his messy hair. She hated how shaky and scared she sounded. It was like being a rookie all over again.
She pressed her index and middle fingers to the underside of his knee. Nothing. The edge of his groin. Behind his knees. The inside of his wrist. The inside of his elbow. Absolutely nothing. She paused for a second. She uselessly hoped that under his foot she'd find a tiny beat. Nothing. She anxiously pressed her fingers to his throat again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Her heart growing hopelessly heavier with each discovery.
No. He was going to live damnit. He had to.
"Shay." Gabby appeared by her side and had already gently, untangled the scissors from her slender fingers.
"But he was going to – and the baseball? H-his name is O-owen. H-he was going to be wonderful. He was going to be a baseball superstar. H-he-"
"Shay." This time Gabby removed the gloves from her hands and tossed them into a sterile bin, throwing her own in afterwards. Almost mechanical movements throwing away used equipment into the bin again.
Leslie was in a daze.
"I told him to stay awake. Why didn't he keep his eyes open? He was going to be okay!"
Gabby tugged a white sheet over the little boy. Those damn eyes. She turned to face the blonde with a solemn expression. Despite having treated several patients between them before Owen, Gabby didn't have a hair out of place. Her mouth set in an uncharacteristic straight line. Her perfect eyebrows furrowed. Dark eyes shining with what Leslie hoped wasn't tears.
"We don't get em' all, tiger."
"I couldn't – and he was – h-he had a-"
"Shh."
Gabby pulled Leslie towards her and wrapped her arms tightly around the blonde's waist. She felt shaky arms circle her and hot tears on her neck. It was hot and uncomfortable and sweaty but Leslie had never felt safer.
"We can't get em' all, okay? But we try really hard to. You did nothing wrong. You almost got him to play baseball." She whispered almost playfully. Leslie sniffed and tried to speak but all that came out was a garbled mess of incoherent words and strangled sobs. Gabby pulled her impossibly closer.
"Shh."
She tried. And that was enough.