Febuwhump Day 21: "Help Them"
Word Count: 997
Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl
Rating: T
Characters: Sarah and Yuriy Rockbell
Warning: Blood, burns, triage
Summary: Yuriy and Sarah Rockbell have a decision to make while in Ishval
Notes: N/A
"Help them"
"We've got another batch coming in!"
Yuriy cursed, stripping off his gloves and reaching for another pair. It was like a never-ending flow of people, soldiers being delivered to them, over and over and over again. He and Sarah were doing the best that they could for the soldiers. They had been since they were called up to serve as doctors in the war.
"Alright, let's get these men in! You!" he pointed to one of the men who had been serving as an assistant around their medical tents. "Get ready to apply tags!"
"Yes, sir!" the soldier said.
The grisly task of triage began, Sarah and Yuriy moving through the wounded soldiers, determining who needed immediate help, who could wait, and who had no chance at all. It was the worst part of the job, but it was what had to be done. More than once he and Sarah had gone to bed holding each other, him feeling Sarah's tears, as they prayed that soon this would be over.
"Red, get this man to the back now! Yellow, waiting area. Black, outside. Black. Red, Yellow, yellow, Green, get this man out of here."
It had only been getting worse, though. The war was growing in intensity. The front lines were moving, spreading more and more. The doctors were being spread more and more thin. He and Sarah were almost the only doctors here. So far, they had been slightly insulated from the worst of the war, but he had heard stories. They both had.
"Black. Black. Black."
Stories of not only Amestrians, but of Ishvalans coming to the hospital tents too, often with horrific burns. He had also heard that many of the medical tents were turning the Ishvalans away. To date, the only Ishvalans that he or Sarah had seen were ones that were so badly injured that in the heat of battle the soldiers hadn't been able to differentiate between them and the Amestrian soldiers and brought them wholesale to their medical tent.
"Yellow. Red. Green, green, green."
There had been nothing that they could do for them. The injuries had been too severe. But they had both knew that one day they would be faced with the choice. They had talked about it, debating what they would do. They had such limited resources. The Amestrian soldiers were supposed to be the priority. The Ishvalans were supposed to be ignored. Neither of them were sure that they could do that.
"Yellow. Yellow. Black."
They had pretty much decided that they would give any Ishvalans basic care but prioritize the Amestrians. It was an ugly solution, not even a solution at all, and they both knew it. But it was all they had. They had to prioritize, they wanted this to end as soon as possible. They wanted to go home, leave this behind, go back to Winry.
"Two reds!" he called over to Sarah. "More orange!" it was their code to let each other know that a patient was still in immediate danger but could wait for a short amount of time.
"One!" she called back. "Solid red."
Okay. They'd take him first, and then work on his two. The blacks would be kept as comfortable as they could manage here, but they weren't going to live anyway. Yellow could wait until after the red, and green could lend a helping hand until they were seen.
Suddenly there was a commotion at the entrance. Voices, yelling, and someone stumbling in. Yuriy and Sarah both rushed towards it, as did a couple of their aids. Yuriy recoiled in shock as he realized that it was an Ishvalan woman that had stumbled in. She was curled around something, and he suddenly realized that it was a couple of kids.
The woman turned her face up towards them. It was black and charred, as were other places on her body. She should, by no means, be able to move. But through her one eye, she looked up at him, a desperate, imploring look on her face.
"Help them!" she said, her voice rough with pain and emotion. Her hand reached out to grab his arm, her hand a charred mess, and Yuriy had no idea how it was even still functioning. "Help them!"
Yuriy glanced down at the kids in her arms, one unconscious, the other breathing harshly. The one still awake, a little girl, looked up at him, a look of indescribable pain on her face, and Yuriy felt everything stop.
For a moment, all he could see was this child, with her shoulder length hair cut and bangs, and her eyes changed from red to blue and it wasn't an Ishvalan child, but his own daughter, his Winry, looking up at him like that. And it was as if, suddenly, everything changed.
He looked at Sarah, and saw the same stricken look on her face, and he looked back at the Ishvalan woman.
"We will," he said. "We can't help you, but we'll help them."
Her breath stuttered with relief, and her eyes looked at them gratefully. She was on her last, he realized, and he and Sarah reached to pull the two children from her. The girl let out a cry, but she was too weak to fight back. Sarah cradled her to herself.
"Prep the OR!" Yuriy called. "These two take priority!"
"But—sir!" one of the aids said. "They're Ishvalans!"
"They're children!" he snapped back. "And we're doctors! If you can't understand that, then get out!"
He could feel Sarah's approval, and that was enough for him. They rushed the two kids back to the operating room, knowing that they were going to do everything they could to save them.
They were doctors. It didn't matter who their patients were. Yuriy knew it. He and Sarah would talk it over tonight. But from now on, they would accept any patient that came their way, Amestrian or Ishvalan, if they could help them.