A/N: Febuwhump is here! Prepare to get sick of me over the coming month... These prompts vary a lot in length, some will be short and sweet, some will be looong, and some will be related! Some will be TAG and some will be Movieverse. Trigger Warnings will be included in each chapter but expect a lot of whumping as that is the theme (while not necessarily graphic in detail, there may be mentions of such).
Rating: T
Universe: TAG
Warnings: Mentions of serious violent injuries, vomit.
Prompt: ALT 3 - Coma
DAY 1 - ALT 3 Coma
Hospitals were among the Tracy's least favourite places.
Sterile. Polished. Unfriendly.
Rushing orderlies and out of sync rhythms.
Cardboard coffee and rickety chairs.
Even worse when one of your own was lying comatose in one of the intensive care beds.
Though you could barely tell who it was. Bandages and casts and bruises swathed just his arms and head on show, the rest hidden beneath the crisp linen. His face was pale behind the grazes and the ventilator, his forehead slightly clammy. It was a wonder he was still alive.
The sole survivor of a training exercise gone wrong, Gordon Tracy had so far been comatose for two months, with doctors giving him a forty percent chance of coming out of it. Scott refused to give up hope. Forty percent was forty percent more than they'd expected upon first being given notice of his accident.
Gordon would live. Doing the impossible was Gordon's thing.
He'd won an Olympic gold medal aged just sixteen. Barely two years ago. Giving up his global athlete status to pursue a military career with the hopes of joining their top oceanography and marine biology research team.
That had lasted barely a year.
Everyone knows greenies get stuck with the roughest jobs when they join up, part of the hazing and initiation. But Gordon had wound his way around all those he served with, his years of Olympic training giving him discipline and finesse that was rare in new recruits. The Navy had jumped on that, transferring him to W.A.S.P and sending him straight into their top submarines. Part and parcel of this was testing their brand-new tech.
Hydrofoils.
Gordon was comatose because of their transonic hydrofoils. His comrades dead. Gordon with a forty percent chance of survival.
Scott had emptied his stomach into the nearest trash can upon hearing the extent of his brother's injuries. Catastrophic trauma. Multiple broken bones, pierced organs, a cracked skull, second-degree burns. Paralysis. Gordon was just eighteen years old.
Sat there by his side, those injuries hidden from view, Scott willed his brother to wake up.
tomorrow: Day 2 - "I can't take this anymore"