Chapter 2.
Swept up in the pandemonium again, John Carter was lost to chaos once more.
Kerry hadn't wanted him to come into work just yet, but he nagged her until she relented. Of course he was on fewer hours, but he would soon be past that stage, he knew that she had too many problems of her own to worry about him. He wanted to work, because work was a chance to escape from himself, to think about someone else for a change.
It was therapeutic in some ways and destructive in others: every child was his son and every pregnant woman was Kem.
At the funeral he hadn't cried, Kem had wept openly and hysterically, but John had remained stoic and cold.
This was the only way he knew how to deal with pain: to suppress and deny until it all came cascading down.
"Charge to 200. Clear!" He ordered. He was working on a 25-year-old male with severe trauma to his chest and head.
"He's going into V-tach!" Chuny yelled.
"Charge to 280. Clear!"
"We've got a rhythm!"
Carter let the Neela take over and he burst into trauma 2, barking out orders over his shoulder.
He worked quickly helping to intubate another young victim, then proceeded to the next room, taking control of each situation, forgetting whatever troubles he had.
After stabilising 5 of the six victims he strode into trauma 1 again.
"What have we got?" He yelled above the ruckus, his view of the victim was obscured by his colleagues.
"I've got it Carter!" Pratt yelled, hurriedly trying to do a C-section.
Carter took this as a challenge from his much-maligned former student. He pushed his way through the mass and gazed down upon his soon to be patient. His gaze froze over.
A woman in heavy labour, she was bleeding profusely from several lacerations on her arms and upper torso and a shard of glass was protruding from her abdomen.
They were trying to protect him; they didn't think he could handle it.
"I've got it." He stated coldly, Pratt looked into Carter's eyes, this was the first sign of life he had seen in months and he didn't like it, his eyes were burning with rage and something else...desperation? The look stopped him, Carter took this as an invitation and he stepped in, pushing Pratt out of the way. The nurses looked at both Pratt and Carter nervously, but soon returned their focus to the patient.
Carter delivered the baby handing it over to the OB nurse and doctor, he wanted to attend to it, but he knew he still had to work on the mother.
His orders never faltered and actions were precise, but there was something...something in the way he gave the orders, the tone of his voice, the rising frustration and desperation in his words...
As the nurses wheeled her up to surgery, Carter pulled off his gloves, dumping them into the waste, his eyes set on Pratt, the look on his face suggested both stubborn pride and rage, he left the room, leaving his co-workers filled with concern.
A/N: Short but sweet (Or not), there's more coming and I'll update every few days seeing as I've already completed it.