Hi everyone! Okay, Debbie, I know that I promised this as a Christmas present, but I hope you don't mind if it's a little late! Here's the seventh part to my little fic, and I hope you all enjoy it. Again, I want to say that I have absolutely NO CLUE when it comes to medical matters, so please, please don't flame me for all of the mistakes that I am sure are obvious to some of you. I'm just trying to have some fun here...nothing too serious!
Disclaimer: See previous installments.
Dark Places Part 7
It was late, and the quiet whooshing sound of the ventilator threatened to lull her to sleep. Considering the drama of the evening, Faith felt as if she would never regain her strength. After Bosco's vital signs had plummeted in that cold, dark warehouse, she had looked on helplessly while Carlos and Kim pushed medications and fluids through his blood vessels and were ultimately forced to shock his overburdened heart into beating just a little longer. The ambulance drive had been harrying at best while Kim and Faith did what they could to maintain Bosco until they reached the hospital ER. What they could do to aid the stricken man seemed miserably little in Faith's estimation.
And then it had been a matter of quiet waiting. Waiting to see if he would survive the ER. Waiting to see if he would survive surgery. Waiting to see if he would regain consciousness.
Faith passed a hand over her face and inhaled deeply and shakily while she sunk down into the hard wooden chair next to Bosco's bedside. She looked at the external stabilizer that they had placed around the wound to Bosco's hip and wondered what that injury would bring. She recognized the broken pelvis as a possible one-way ticket to desk duty, and she knew that as ambitious as Bosco was, he would not be able to survive that future. She guessed that information regarding the state of Bosco's career was just another thing she would have to wait on, but she personally didn't mind where he ended up. Anywhere in the precinct or even out of it was fine with her as long as he survived his current condition.
She had tried to contact Bosco's mother, but it had been impossible to reach her. The only person who had her phone number was currently unconscious and unable to communicate any information. She had called Fred to tell him what had happened; they had ended up arguing about something, but she couldn't remember what it had been about.
Faith looked at the oddity of the respirator tube emerging out of her partner's half-opened and taped up mouth and had to abruptly turn away. As it turned out, it hadn't been the pelvic injury or the head injury that had caused the most danger to Bozz; it was the injury to his ribs that had eventually damaged one of his lungs and was now threatening him the most. The doctors had explained to her that they could not complete repairs to his hip until his condition had stabilized, and he needed to be pushing more oxygen through his lungs before they would reconsider advancing his status past critical. Consciousness also would definitely help the situation, but there was little hope that Bosco would awaken before morning. She should go home; she had Fred and the kids to see to. Fred wanted her home, and she now remembered that this is what they had argued about earlier. But she couldn't leave Bosco, not after all that had happened to him. She was determined to wait until he woke up, but god, she was so tired. She closed her eyes and slumped further in the chair as the steady whooshing of the ventilator finally did soothe her to sleep.
***
Awareness came slowly, in small, painful increments. Light stabbed his consciousness first, and then came an insistent agony in his hip that he would soon discover was incessant and impossible to ignore. Finally there blossomed a fire in his lungs and an intense soreness in his throat. Of all of his discomforts, this was the one that troubled him the most, and he coughed in an effort to relieve the pain and clear his throat. He succeeded only in gagging which increased his discomfort and brought him crashing all the way back into consciousness.
He was suffocating, smothering! Panic overwhelmed him and impelled him to reach up to claw at his throat. He had to clear it!
Someone grabbed his hand, and he struggled against their grasp. Vaguely he felt the gentle stroking of a hand on his forehead. He calmed a bit and was able to concentrate on the individual sitting next to him.
"Bosco, settle down! It's okay now. You're safe!"
Bosco attempted to focus his vision a bit, and he recognized Faith and the protective image that she was projecting. She was wearing her all too common maternal visage, and he calmed a bit. The image blurred suddenly, but he tried to ask her what had happened by sending her a questioning look.
"You were hurt Bosco," Faith told him. She sounded like she was talking through two miles of water, but he was able to understand her.
He instinctively tried to sigh deeply as he took in this information and ended up gagging again. Anger flared through him, and he tried to ask her what was wrong with his throat. But vocalizing the question seemed impossible, and this only increased his frustration. Furiously, he pointed to his mouth and throat with the hand that she was not forcing down and gestured frantically.
"It's okay, Bozz," Faith replied through all of that water. "The doctors had to put you on a ventilator, and there's a tube down your throat. I'll go get someone now, and maybe we can pull it out. You gonna be okay for a second?"
Actually, he wasn't sure if he would be okay without her even for a second, but he really, really wanted the tube out of his throat. He closed his eyes briefly and then weakly waved to her to convey that he wanted her to find the doctor.
"Alright, I'll be right back," Faith said, and she then stood up and moved out of his line of vision.
He must have drifted off, because he was unaware of the time that it took her to find the doctor. One moment she was gone, the next she was back discussing something with some other person. He made the tremendous effort to focus on what they were saying and was suddenly unhappy with this new person.
"His oxygen levels are better, Officer Yokas, but I'm not quite sure that they're high enough yet to warrant taking him off the vent. I'd feel safer keeping him on the respirator for another day."
Absolutely not! There was no way he was putting up with this for even another minute more! He rapped the bed as hard as he could, which turned out to be not very hard at all, but it got their attention. He felt the anger express itself in his eyes, and he motioned to his throat. Out! Right now! OUT! He didn't care what the consequences were; hell, he didn't even know what the consequences were. But that tube was coming out if he had to pull it out himself.
Faith raised an eyebrow, and for the first time all night a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Bosco was making himself loud and clear to her.
"Doc, you better pull it out or else he's gonna take it out himself," she said, echoing his thoughts.
He knew that if the tube had not been in the way, a small, smug, and self-satisfied smile would be tugging at his own mouth.
***
It took only seconds to remove the tube. Bosco could only be relieved at its absence despite the doctor's obvious hesitation and wariness. An oxygen mask covered most of his face, and the pressure of it actually caused his head to swim a bit worse, but he felt much more comfortable. Faith also was relieved that the tube was out of his throat; she desperately wanted to hear the sound of her partner's voice and reassure herself of his conscious presence.
"How you doing, Bozz?" she asked quietly.
"Been....better," he rasped. His voice was muffled from the mask, but Faith understood him anyway.
"Yeah," she said, and tears welled up in her eyes. She furiously blinked them away.
"Okay..." he managed to say reassuringly in between his painful breaths. "I'm...okay. It's light...in here. Not dark...Much...better."
The strangled sound of the intense relief in his voice was enough to make her tears return as she again imagined the terror he must have experienced in that horribly lightless building.
"You better be okay, Bozz. I went through hell to find you. I don't know why I bother," she joked in an effort to hide her own fear.
Bosco smiled behind the mask, and then coughed violently. Immediately she was there, hovering and trying to help him.
He waved her off.
"I'm...okay. Won't...break."
But abruptly his eyes lost their focus, and Faith had the sudden thought that he had spoken out of turn. Bosco weakly coughed again, and slowly his body slackened.
"Bosco?" she asked with the beginnings of panic edging her tone.
A monitor started to beep, and she flew out of the room in search of a nurse.
***
The whooshing noise had returned to replace the sound of her partner's voice as well as his conscious presence. Faith was near desperation again.
"What happened?" she asked the doctor.
"His lung is still too damaged to maintain his oxygen levels. His brain became deprived of oxygen, and he simply passed out. I know it's hard to accept, Officer Yokas, but he needs the ventilator right now."
Faith bowed her head, and gazed discouragingly down at Bosco's inanimate form. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"The fact that he regained consciousness is a good sign. Give it time," he took in her stressed and tired features and patted her shoulder gently. "You should go get something to eat and then rest a little. Go home Officer Yokas. The hospital will call you if his condition changes again."
"No, I'm going to stay here," she said in a tone that made the doctor feel silly for even suggesting otherwise.
She sat in her uncomfortable chair...and waited.
Disclaimer: See previous installments.
Dark Places Part 7
It was late, and the quiet whooshing sound of the ventilator threatened to lull her to sleep. Considering the drama of the evening, Faith felt as if she would never regain her strength. After Bosco's vital signs had plummeted in that cold, dark warehouse, she had looked on helplessly while Carlos and Kim pushed medications and fluids through his blood vessels and were ultimately forced to shock his overburdened heart into beating just a little longer. The ambulance drive had been harrying at best while Kim and Faith did what they could to maintain Bosco until they reached the hospital ER. What they could do to aid the stricken man seemed miserably little in Faith's estimation.
And then it had been a matter of quiet waiting. Waiting to see if he would survive the ER. Waiting to see if he would survive surgery. Waiting to see if he would regain consciousness.
Faith passed a hand over her face and inhaled deeply and shakily while she sunk down into the hard wooden chair next to Bosco's bedside. She looked at the external stabilizer that they had placed around the wound to Bosco's hip and wondered what that injury would bring. She recognized the broken pelvis as a possible one-way ticket to desk duty, and she knew that as ambitious as Bosco was, he would not be able to survive that future. She guessed that information regarding the state of Bosco's career was just another thing she would have to wait on, but she personally didn't mind where he ended up. Anywhere in the precinct or even out of it was fine with her as long as he survived his current condition.
She had tried to contact Bosco's mother, but it had been impossible to reach her. The only person who had her phone number was currently unconscious and unable to communicate any information. She had called Fred to tell him what had happened; they had ended up arguing about something, but she couldn't remember what it had been about.
Faith looked at the oddity of the respirator tube emerging out of her partner's half-opened and taped up mouth and had to abruptly turn away. As it turned out, it hadn't been the pelvic injury or the head injury that had caused the most danger to Bozz; it was the injury to his ribs that had eventually damaged one of his lungs and was now threatening him the most. The doctors had explained to her that they could not complete repairs to his hip until his condition had stabilized, and he needed to be pushing more oxygen through his lungs before they would reconsider advancing his status past critical. Consciousness also would definitely help the situation, but there was little hope that Bosco would awaken before morning. She should go home; she had Fred and the kids to see to. Fred wanted her home, and she now remembered that this is what they had argued about earlier. But she couldn't leave Bosco, not after all that had happened to him. She was determined to wait until he woke up, but god, she was so tired. She closed her eyes and slumped further in the chair as the steady whooshing of the ventilator finally did soothe her to sleep.
***
Awareness came slowly, in small, painful increments. Light stabbed his consciousness first, and then came an insistent agony in his hip that he would soon discover was incessant and impossible to ignore. Finally there blossomed a fire in his lungs and an intense soreness in his throat. Of all of his discomforts, this was the one that troubled him the most, and he coughed in an effort to relieve the pain and clear his throat. He succeeded only in gagging which increased his discomfort and brought him crashing all the way back into consciousness.
He was suffocating, smothering! Panic overwhelmed him and impelled him to reach up to claw at his throat. He had to clear it!
Someone grabbed his hand, and he struggled against their grasp. Vaguely he felt the gentle stroking of a hand on his forehead. He calmed a bit and was able to concentrate on the individual sitting next to him.
"Bosco, settle down! It's okay now. You're safe!"
Bosco attempted to focus his vision a bit, and he recognized Faith and the protective image that she was projecting. She was wearing her all too common maternal visage, and he calmed a bit. The image blurred suddenly, but he tried to ask her what had happened by sending her a questioning look.
"You were hurt Bosco," Faith told him. She sounded like she was talking through two miles of water, but he was able to understand her.
He instinctively tried to sigh deeply as he took in this information and ended up gagging again. Anger flared through him, and he tried to ask her what was wrong with his throat. But vocalizing the question seemed impossible, and this only increased his frustration. Furiously, he pointed to his mouth and throat with the hand that she was not forcing down and gestured frantically.
"It's okay, Bozz," Faith replied through all of that water. "The doctors had to put you on a ventilator, and there's a tube down your throat. I'll go get someone now, and maybe we can pull it out. You gonna be okay for a second?"
Actually, he wasn't sure if he would be okay without her even for a second, but he really, really wanted the tube out of his throat. He closed his eyes briefly and then weakly waved to her to convey that he wanted her to find the doctor.
"Alright, I'll be right back," Faith said, and she then stood up and moved out of his line of vision.
He must have drifted off, because he was unaware of the time that it took her to find the doctor. One moment she was gone, the next she was back discussing something with some other person. He made the tremendous effort to focus on what they were saying and was suddenly unhappy with this new person.
"His oxygen levels are better, Officer Yokas, but I'm not quite sure that they're high enough yet to warrant taking him off the vent. I'd feel safer keeping him on the respirator for another day."
Absolutely not! There was no way he was putting up with this for even another minute more! He rapped the bed as hard as he could, which turned out to be not very hard at all, but it got their attention. He felt the anger express itself in his eyes, and he motioned to his throat. Out! Right now! OUT! He didn't care what the consequences were; hell, he didn't even know what the consequences were. But that tube was coming out if he had to pull it out himself.
Faith raised an eyebrow, and for the first time all night a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Bosco was making himself loud and clear to her.
"Doc, you better pull it out or else he's gonna take it out himself," she said, echoing his thoughts.
He knew that if the tube had not been in the way, a small, smug, and self-satisfied smile would be tugging at his own mouth.
***
It took only seconds to remove the tube. Bosco could only be relieved at its absence despite the doctor's obvious hesitation and wariness. An oxygen mask covered most of his face, and the pressure of it actually caused his head to swim a bit worse, but he felt much more comfortable. Faith also was relieved that the tube was out of his throat; she desperately wanted to hear the sound of her partner's voice and reassure herself of his conscious presence.
"How you doing, Bozz?" she asked quietly.
"Been....better," he rasped. His voice was muffled from the mask, but Faith understood him anyway.
"Yeah," she said, and tears welled up in her eyes. She furiously blinked them away.
"Okay..." he managed to say reassuringly in between his painful breaths. "I'm...okay. It's light...in here. Not dark...Much...better."
The strangled sound of the intense relief in his voice was enough to make her tears return as she again imagined the terror he must have experienced in that horribly lightless building.
"You better be okay, Bozz. I went through hell to find you. I don't know why I bother," she joked in an effort to hide her own fear.
Bosco smiled behind the mask, and then coughed violently. Immediately she was there, hovering and trying to help him.
He waved her off.
"I'm...okay. Won't...break."
But abruptly his eyes lost their focus, and Faith had the sudden thought that he had spoken out of turn. Bosco weakly coughed again, and slowly his body slackened.
"Bosco?" she asked with the beginnings of panic edging her tone.
A monitor started to beep, and she flew out of the room in search of a nurse.
***
The whooshing noise had returned to replace the sound of her partner's voice as well as his conscious presence. Faith was near desperation again.
"What happened?" she asked the doctor.
"His lung is still too damaged to maintain his oxygen levels. His brain became deprived of oxygen, and he simply passed out. I know it's hard to accept, Officer Yokas, but he needs the ventilator right now."
Faith bowed her head, and gazed discouragingly down at Bosco's inanimate form. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"The fact that he regained consciousness is a good sign. Give it time," he took in her stressed and tired features and patted her shoulder gently. "You should go get something to eat and then rest a little. Go home Officer Yokas. The hospital will call you if his condition changes again."
"No, I'm going to stay here," she said in a tone that made the doctor feel silly for even suggesting otherwise.
She sat in her uncomfortable chair...and waited.