The sharp smell of antiseptic stung his nose. The tips of his fingers were numb and tingly making him want to rap them on the hard surface he was lying on the pound feeling back. Rustles of fabric crunched all around him and he felt bodies rush and move around him. With his eyes still closed, he waited for the crushing pain to catch up with him. Instead of the pain all he felt was...numb?
"Dix, draw blood and send it up to the lab. Tell them I want a cross match, blood smear and two pints of blood yesterday!" That was Brackett's voice.
Kelly Brackett had many voices. There was the stern and bossy voice that had every new intern and nurse shaking in their shoes. His stern voice scared anyone who didn't know him enough to see the soft hearted man he hid underneath. Second there was the loud worried voice, the voice he was using now.
He could hear Brackett's rant now. Stupid hose jockey! Don't you know better than to go off and get yourself hurt like that! I have better things to do than stitch my paramedics back together every time they feel like it!
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. At least this time it wasn't his fault; not completely anyway. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been late to work this morning. Would he have made it to work safely without anyone getting hurt? Or would've the other driver just hit another innocent person on their way to work? It felt surreal to be the victim in need of rescue.
Suddenly he had the desire to talk to Dr. Brackett. "Doc?" He asked.
Johnny listened as Brackett took a step closer. The injured paramedic didn't bother to open his eyes. He wouldn't see anything anyway.
"Hey, Johnny. Just couldn't stay away, huh?" Brackett's voice deadpanned, but he was grateful for the attempt at humor.
A cross between a laugh and a gasp of pain came rushing out of his mouth. Instantly, he regretted it. He was beyond the point of pain. Either they'd given him pain medication-which was unlikely-or the rod was doing more damage than he wanted to think about at the moment. He couldn't feel pain from his wounds but he could feel how hard it was to breathe. Quick inhales and exhales made it feel like he was sucking in air through a straw.
Brackett must have noticed because an oxygen mask was immediately set down firmly on his face. He breathed in, grateful to feel the pressure in his lungs ease. The cold air wafted over his cheeks.
"Doc…" The mask muffled his words forcing him to talk louder. "Doc?"
His lungs didn't hold enough air to talk any louder or talk anymore. Brackett slipped the band under Johnny's head, tying the mask firmly to his face. Thankfully, Brackett anticipated what he was going to ask.
"You'll be alright. We can't get x-ray in because of the metal rod, so we'll have no choice but to take them in the OR. The other driver had nothing more than a few bumps and bruises..." Brackett calmly talked to him
Johnny drifted off into unconsciousness, sound asleep before he ever heard the door open to admit his partner.
Click...
Clock...
Click...
Clock…
Roy fought the urge to rip the annoying clock right off the wall. His head pounded in rhythm with every sound the second hand made on the open face clock mounted in the Doctor's Lounge. Swiping a hand over his face, he wished he could stuff cotton to make the annoying ticking stop.
Click…
Clock…
Click…
Clock…
Roy abruptly stood. If he didn't get out of here he was going to do something to the clock he was sure he-admittedly-wouldn't regret. In short, he was about to find a baseball bat or a screwdriver to fix the clock from ever making another sound in its life-whichever he found first. Maybe if he found the bat it'd make him feel better inside.
Click…
Clock…
CLICK…
CLOCK…
That was it! Roy roughly pushed the door open until it hit the wall it was mounted on. The paramedic briskly walked down the halls, relishing in the ability to do something. He was sure Brice was taking longer than normal to restock supplies just to give him time alone and get away from him. Dixie had all but hog tied him to make him stay put, when she'd shoved him in the Doctor's Lounge. Even she was having a hard time dealing with him at the moment.
Maybe, they were all ready for a break from him. He cursed his bad luck. No sooner had he followed Johnny into the treatment room then Brice had arrived, and they'd been called out. It was well past noon and he'd yet to see much of his partner because the squad had been toned out time after time.
It had put him in a bad mood-if the clock and subsequent baseball bat was any indication. Finally, they were allowed a break only to find Johnny was still in surgery. What could be taking them so long? Dixie had tried to answer his questions as best she could, but she still had an ER to run and nurses to supervise. Both Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early were in surgery with Johnny, leaving the ER seriously short-handed adding to the growing problem.
Craig Brice stepped into his path stopping his frenzied walk. The HT was brought up slightly, making his message clear. Another call. Roy's mood darkened as they briskly made for the exit where the squad was parked. This had better be good.
A/N: Before you go I'd like to make a few shout outs.
Thank you to Marbo(guest): your comments have helped me through writers block several times over, thank you!
Another thank you to Willow Dryad: You always give such supportive reviews making me smile and want to spend all day and all night writing the next chapter!
Thank you Rosemoor for your constant reviews that also help me want to pick up the pen and write!
Thank you so much for all of those who comment, it makes my day! Hope you liked it and see you soon!