Just something real quick I threw together. Please excuse any typos or ish. I will try to make the next chapters better, this chapter just sucked to kinda put down so I felt like breezing through it to get it over with. Next story update will be either The Enemy's Heart or The Tutor. Until next time
The Ditch
Chapter Five
The E.R. (part one)
"You're going to be alright," spoke the young EMT with a calming voice as he took the victim's vitals. The acceleration of the ambulance through the slick roads could physically be felt as the siren cut through the night sky. Checking his instruments, the technician frowned before reaching back and knocking on the panel separating them from the driver; an indication to pick up the pace. Almost immediately the engine roared. "Hang in there with me," he told the greyish colored female, brushing the pink frost covered locks from her face. Somehow, at the brink of death, she was eerily beautiful. The Technician shook his head – this was the last time he did a 12 hour shift.
Now subjected to the warmer environment of the ambulance, Max Gibson's body became racked with sharp, stabbing discomfort along her spine, and seizure-like chills that kept the EMT struggling to keep the girl contained. A soft moan filled the back of the ambulance as the technician worked to comfort her until they reached the hospital. It was good she was starting to come back, but the problem was that eventually she'd start becoming more aware – particularly of her injuries. Though he'd seen a lot of things in his short tenure with Gotham's emergency response department, witnessing her agony was not something he wanted to be around for. "Just a little bit longer, okay? Hey!" The girl's eyes flittered open slowly at his hard call and met him. The EMT heaved in relief; her responsiveness had slowed and it concerned him. "There ya go, beautiful."
Max smirked weakly and exhaled, looking up at the ambulance roof to try and take her exhausted mind off of everything. A nearly impossible task. Despite heading to treatment, despite no longer being stuck in an icy ditch of death, even now Max found a sensation of fright lingering over her. Though the reason behind said fear remained unknown at the moment, still she didn't like being alone – or more so, being without a familiar presence. As pissed off as the teen might have been with her mother (quite frankly, she still pretty was), what Max wouldn't give to have that maternal affection right now. Internally the girl winced – or at the very least, something a little more realistic: like her home girl Chelsea for example, or hell even perverted Nelson! Or…Ter-.
The ambulance came to an abrupt halt, startling its inhabitant briefly as everything suddenly began to swarm around her. In a flash the doors opened and the older EMT had the stretcher instantly out of the vehicle. "Alright, I got her," he stated to the other. The freezing air rocked the girl's frame as she groaned loudly and flinched before a blanket was tossed over her as a result. Just like that, the full moon illuminating the darkened sky she'd come to know so well vanished beneath the inside of Gotham University Hospital's E.R. After raising her head briefly, however, the young girl's heart fell into her stomach…a crowded Gotham University Hospital E.R. The emergency techs also felt their charge's wariness because the senior frowned and approached a nurse rummaging through paperwork at the operation's desk. "We need a room."
"Take a number," the nurse quickly snapped before quickly realizing how inappropriate that was and looked away from the disarrayed desk to them apologetically. "What you got?" she tried again, hoping it was something minor they could shift the patient into another department for.
"Broken leg, potential ankle dislocation – same leg – stab wound, significant blood loss. No visible cranial injuries, indications of hypothermia, and reported to have flat lined before our arrival."
Damnit, the nurse thought – so much for hoping for simplicity. Definite problem. Looking around the E.R. she began assessing, trying to figure out how to fit this newest arrival into the slew of chaos. "Ok," she said, taking the patient's informative chart from the EMT and swiftly handing it to the passing head nurse – an angry looking older woman with a permanent frown from all the stress of tonight plastered on her wrinkled face. Halting from wherever she was originally going, the woman scanned over the papers, gave Max an eye (a look the EMTs could only define as: stoically compassionate), and then ordered while pointing towards a rear hall within the E.R., "Put her against the wall there."
"The wall?" declared the young EMT hotly in disbelief as a pair of hospital staff took hold of the stretcher and began to move the patient – obviously an unappreciated gestured as far as the EMT was concerned. The technician's counterpart placed a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him, but to no avail. He jogged after them, his partner following silently. "You've got to be kidding me! This girl was stuck in a ditch for hours with a broken leg, stabbed by Jokerz, and would be dead if Batman hadn't resuscitated her," the man argued. "She needs immediate treatment!"
"Look!" growled the head nurse as she spun and jammed a finger against the man's chest with enough force it not only caught him off guard, but he winced; her patience was dangerously depleted and the woman had no interest in wasting time arguing with some know-it-all punk when she had an entire emergency room to run. "I don't know if you've heard," the grown woman snapped, "but tonight was a city-wide Jokerz-Fest! You've got a problem? Get over it – every hospital in Gotham is slammed. The patient's here: let us do our jobs and you go do yours!" Without another word she brushes past the technician and heads into a room where loud technological squealing was emanating from with a few other staff members and a doctor.
The EMT snorts irritatingly. Well that was definitely far more attitude than he wanted to hear; though it was justified. The head nurse had been valid in her frustrations, and deep down he knew that even if he didn't want to admit it. The big picture was right here in front of them – and it was fucked. What other choice was there? At this point there was literally nothing any of them could do to make this outcome any different. Damn the Jokerz. Damn those doped up cowardly clowns to the hottest pit in hell. With no other option in the matter the EMT faces the young woman and pitifully shrugs in defeat, then extends a hand and rubs the girl's shoulder comfortingly. "Everything is going to be okay," he consoled. "You're one tough kid."
Gibson thought on that momentarily – somehow "tough" wasn't the word she'd have used to describe herself given the parameters. In fact, it wasn't until this that she got to see just how truly weak she was; it was humbling and disconcerting. "Thank…you," Max responded hoarsely, grinning up at the two before they took off with a wave goodbye to get back to saving more lives.
And now, it was just her…again. As the chaotic bustle of the emergency room rushed around the teen, Max once more felt uneasiness creep upon her. Her brown eyes darted around the room, taking in the countless injured bodies brought here in the aftermath of the Jokerz "fun"…while still searching for something familiar of her own – something that would make her feel…safer. For the first time, Maxine Gibson didn't like being alone. She watched as countless family and friends of the victims came to the side of their injured loved ones. It seemed like everyone had someone here…everyone but here. It was as if the activity of the E.R. flowed onwards in slow blurs of movement without knowledge of the girl's presence while she alone laid on the stretched perfectly clear to only herself…A nurse stopped by eventually and placed a cold compress on Gibson's left ankle before disappearing altogether. Bundled under her cooling blanket, Max found herself feeling more abandoned here in a building filled with certified medical staff obligated to help her, than she had in that Godforsaken ditch.
Without companionship her mind raced, unwillingly reliving every single detail of this horrific day; from the argument with her mother, to the Jokerz tormenting her, to the only source of rescue unknowingly leaving her behind in the dark...to her very life coming to an end…and to that life being restored to find the most important person in her life right there urging her back. The Hill High top student debated the odds of something insane like this actually happening to her; and wondered just how the hell Gotham came up with this kind of sick punishment. So many people she might have never seen again – even the ones Max once thought she would be okay living without, or would be okay living without her. It wasn't until she'd faced death that Maxine knew what it was to appreciate even the smallest the bonds life had given her. The surge of emotion at the remembrance of his tears concerning the girl's demise, his joy at seeing her alive and feeling the warmth of his kisses of relief, made Max's eyes open to just how important she was to those closest to her after all. A far cry from the belief of inadequacy she'd come to accept previously while surrounded by snow and ice. Because of him-. She sighed. Batman's touch had been so…warm – a warmth Max never really noticed until she'd succumb to the cold. That eased the girl – and worried her.
A while later, after a woman came by obtaining Max's identification and insurance information, a dull stab of pain radiated in the left ankle hidden beneath the heated blankets. Odd – she never noticed that before. It hit again, stronger this time and traveling up the leg, and Max narrowed her eyes in concern; not liking this feeling. Gibson fidgeted uncomfortably beneath the blankets and felt her heart pace quicken a bit at the sensation. How long had it been since she was placed here? She remembered reading the time at the operation's station-. Max looked up at a clock against the wall ahead and felt her lungs start to burn before realizing she'd been holding her breath in astonishment: according to the time, she'd been in this hall, without further analysis by staff, for nearly an hour. Why hadn't someone come to help her? Someone should have been here to help her by now! Perhaps it was out of panic the genius was starting to feel but, by now the pain had become more noticeable and she found herself twisting her upper torso in discomfort, squeezing the fabric of the blankets between her nails. Once the teen tried to move her ankle, but nothing happened – it was almost like it didn't even exist! Shakily, Max lifted the blankets before throwing them back down in horror at the sight before her. Oh God, she'd never walk again! A scream urged to be set free.
Just when she thought she'd go mad in fear at the destruction brought upon her body, a voice cried out in the distance, "MAX!" Gibson turned her head to the side and could not hide her hurt and shock. Standing at the entrance doors of the E.R. on the other side of the room was Dana, Chelsea, and Nash – and their eyes were stuck on her…and those eyes were filled with an emotion that Max was sure she never wanted to see again. The three teens flew across the E.R., weaving between stretchers and nurses to get to the girl they all loved desperately. Chelsea reached her first – the blonde nearly threw her petite frame onto the stretcher with Gibson as Cunningham clung her arms tight about her best friend's shoulders and neck. "Max! MAX! OH MY GOD, MAX!" Max could feel the hot teardrops making their way down her neck as Chelsea pulled back and stared into the academic head of Hill High's eyes. "You BITCH! Do you have the slightest idea how worried I've been?" Chelsea didn't give Gibson a chance to answer, only pulled her tight into another hug and cried some more.
Dana and Nash were next, practically having to physically remove their blonde counterpart away from the stretcher. Dana held Max's hand to her cheek and sniffled. "I'm so glad you're ok, Max! We had Gotham P.D. practically tearing the city apart looking for you. We heard you scream and…and-!" Dana started crying again and Chelsea pulled Tan close.
Max found some unbelievable strength to chuckle as she touched Dana's chin. "It's…okay…" Gibson looked to Nelson expecting to find the boy grinning in relief that she was okay, or maybe hear the jock crack some kind of sex joke to lighten the mood. Instead, what she came to see was a somber expression that claimed her usually so upbeat friend – filled with sadness, worry, fear…blame. "Nelson," she whispered. He continued to stare at her, avoiding direct eye contact, even after she'd taken his hand into her own in an attempt to pull him back out of the darkness his mind was taking him. At the sound of his name, Nash's grip around her fingertips tightened. To think he may have never heard that voice again…He opened his mouth to speak – Max telling what the words would be – but Gibson attempted to cut him off…only… "Nels-uuuuhhhaah!"
An involuntary shiver and pain ripped through the African American beauty's frame, causing Max to arch beneath the blankets with a gasp as she squeezed the jock's hand tightly, thrust her head back with closed eyes and grit exposed teeth 'til the chill ceased. At that moment Nelson's resolve snapped – sorrow for what could have been the end of his friend transformed into rage as the sports junkie suddenly thrust his free fist forward and slammed it into the wall with enough force that the room seemed to freeze. Though his eyes burned, Nash refused to shed tears – maybe out of pride, or out of a desperate attempt to be strong for her – but he was obviously angered by what this night had come to. "BASTARD!" Nelson snarled before turning his green eyes back to Max though they'd hardly softened. The group had heard from Commissioner Gordon where Max had been taken, and only through some forceful begging were they able to learn the extent of her injuries. With the blankets shielding her, it kind of helped keep the group calm – made this event not seem quite as…devastating. And for that, they were grateful. This could have been so much worse – especially with the additional clown component. But…
Nelson pulled Max's hand to his face, using her knuckles to wipe away the tears that threatened to overrun their banks while secretly showing the girl just how much she meant to him. Seeing her here so pale and weak – witnessing the pain of the cold inside of her body and getting a glimpse of any pain first hand made this nearly unbearable. Nelson Nash blamed himself for not being able to find her himself – even for not managing to convince the girl to just let him drive her to Metropolis so she wouldn't have to talk with her mother and allow any of this to happen in the first place; the Jokerz too, for not only leaving the teen to die in a ditch, but stabbing her to boot. But there might have been another way to have avoided this mess altogether. That's what pissed the jock off the most. Nelson narrowed his eyes and exhaled deeply to cool his nerves. Fact of the matter was this: Nelson may have beaten himself up, and despised the Jokerz for what they did – but the Jokerz wasn't the only one he blamed for this.
Dana pat Nelson on the back but gave Max a worried look. "Max? What's wrong?"
Gibson squeezed Nash's hand tighter and squirmed on the stretcher once again – hiding the discomfort was becoming harder to do. "Hurts…" she hissed out. More time had passed without any indication of assistance from the hospital staff, and as Max's discomfort grew, Chelsea immediately flagged down a nurse to demand why her best girlfriend hadn't been treated yet and to enunciate the amount of pain the girl was currently in. The nurse explained that they were waiting on a room to open up, but mainly the staff was trying to find a doctor to sign off on pain medication. With the E.R. being so full resources were scarce and the medical staff weren't trying to be negligent – they were merely struggling to maintain control. Even doctors from the various departments of the hospital floors had to be consulted because there simply weren't enough emergency specialists on the floor. The grip of things was eluding them, still, the nurse did his best to ensure the group that it wouldn't be much longer a wait for their friend before dashing off somewhere down the hall where someone was screaming. About an additional half-hour passed before a nearby room had finally been cleared for use and staff pushed the stretcher inside – Max's mother and sister arrived on the scene immediately at a loss of words before rushing to her emotional aid.
By then the pain had become so unbearable, that when the nurse placed an empty IV into Max's arm, the girl broke out into tears; it was as if the minor additional pain of the needle breaking through her skin was the final straw to break the camel's back in regards to her agony. The room was stuffed to the brim, and the air became unbearably thick as Gibson's sobbing cries filled it…and all anyone could do to help her was hold her hand and tell her it would be okay – meaningless actions when compared to the physical anguish that, in that moment, made Maxine Gibson wish she'd simply stayed dead inside the ditch. "It hurts," Max whimpered out repeatedly every time comforting words were spoken. Right now she wished she were dead, or at the very least? She wished Terry was here with her…
From the upper levels of a building across the street, white eyes watched invisibly through the window. He'd followed her to the hospital before losing sight of her for nearly two hours before finally catching a glimpse of his best friend once again as she was rolled into a small room. The others were with her, and that should have been enough to console him – but Batman uncomfortably found instead that he wasn't convinced; he didn't feel calm about this at all – in fact, it made him more worried. The Dark Knight heard his best friend's painful cries through the suit's advanced audio system and felt nothing but guilt and shame. Thunder rolled about the night sky in the distance as his cell rung but the neo-Gotham hero ignored it, already knowing who was calling with a demand as to his whereabouts.
"You need to make your choice, McGinnis," came an elderly voice inside of his head.
"What do you think I'm doing out here?" the teen replied back with a bit more hostility than he originally intended, glaring angrily inside the hospital window as Max's mother caressed her daughter's pink hair as finally (three hours later) a doctor stepped inside the room and a nurse injected something into the IV. Max's tears immediately slowed and Chelsea kissed her forehead.
"I think you're stalling," retorted Bruce Wayne through narrowed brows and interlocked fingers as he stared at the image feed of Terry's visual on the large monitor in the comforting darkness of the cave. The sound of sirens and distant flashes of light erupted from Batman's peripheral, causing the teen's attention to shift away from the hospital and to the streets below. "Looks like you're at a crossroads…" Wayne all-knowingly hypothesized, earning himself a growl of irritation from his predecessor.
How he hated when Bruce could see things so clearly. "Max is going to be okay," the young hero tried to convince himself more than his boss.
"Of course, eventually. But will you?" That's not the question Batman wanted to hear right now, much less face to comprehend an answer. Without a response to the underlying riddles Bruce so easily gave, Batman gave a long exhale before turning off the camouflage, spreading his winged arms and falling forward, dropping from his perch. With an ignition of the jets beneath his boots, Batman veered off in the direction of the sirens – away from the hospital, and away from Max. He knew she would be fine, it was the only realization that kept him going about his duties right now…though it didn't shake the guilt in doing so.
To Be Continued...