Disclaimer: See all the previous ones.
Author's Note: So I know it's been a very long time since I've updated, but I've finally gotten past that stupid writer's block, and I've also been very...distracted lately. In case you've completely forgotten what this story is about, it's about Bosco's daughter Sam who's come down with bacterial meningitis and things are not looking very good for her. In the last chapter, Bobby offered to ride to Sweet Memorial Hospital (which I believe I made up, but could very well be real) on the helicopter with Sam. In this chapter, he does just that. Happy reading!
The sound terrified him. He was voluntarily putting his daughter on this massive beast that didn't look as big from far away. Bosco was standing on the roof with his mother and Faith, watching hospital staff put Sam into the chopper with Bobby closely supervising. Bosco had to keep telling himself that Bobby was going to be there to watch over her. He still couldn't shake the fear. He walked over to the door of the chopper to see Sam one last time before they took off.
"Don't worry, man," Bobby shouted over the noise of the helicopter. "She's in good hands."
"I know," Bosco yelled back.
"We'll meet you at Sweet." With that, the door was shut and Bosco was ordered to back away. He stood with Rose and Faith and watched the chopper take off. He watched it fly into the distance until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on, Bosco," said Faith. "We need to go catch our cab." Bosco nodded and followed.
Bobby never did like flying. But he wasn't about to tell Bosco that. Besides, he had other things to occupy his mind. Like the sick little girl he was currently sitting next to. It scared him to see her so small and quiet. He was used to Sam being a bundle of energy. Every time Bosco brought her by the firehouse, she was always begging them to let her climb on the busses and trucks. She was always giggling about something and her feet constantly seemed to be moving.
He remembered Christmas last year, when Bosco brought Sam by the firehouse. She gave each and every one of them a homemade Christmas card. She even gave Carlos one, who almost smiled when she presented him with it. That goofy grin she had on her face when she gave Bobby his found its way to the top of Bobby's brain and he almost chuckled. But as he glanced down at Sam's face, he noticed that same mouth that had once flashed that brilliant smile was completely obscured by an oxygen mask, and his good thoughts were replaced with worried ones.
"How much longer?" he asked over his headset to the pilot. He had just checked Sam's vitals and they weren't looking very good. He was getting increasingly nervous about her heart and breathing rates. Her breath was starting to get very shallow and he could see her struggling for each one. He was afraid he would have to intubate her right there.
"We got about another 7 to 8 minutes," replied the pilot.
"That's too long," Bobby replied. "Can't we go any faster?"
"No. We're going as fast as we can right now."
"Dammit," Bobby swore. He really didn't want to have to put a tube down her throat in the moving helicopter. He pulled off the oxygen mask and replaced it with a bag so he could manually pump the air into her lungs. There was a whine on the machine closest to Bobby that told him that Sam had stopped breathing. "No, no, no Sam, don't do this to me." There was another sound from another machine that told Bobby that her heart had stopped beating.
"Come back here and help me," he nearly screamed at the co-pilot of the chopper. The man hurried towards the back. "Take this bag and squeeze every couple of seconds," he said frantically, handing the bag over to the man. He grabbed the defibrillator and quickly started it up. "When I say clear, take the bag off her face," he told the man holding the bag. The man nodded and watched as Bobby tried to restart Sam's heart. The helicopter swayed with each jolt of her small body, but Bobby didn't even notice.
After a few frantic minutes, when Bobby was sure his heart was no longer beating either, he heard the beeps signaling the beats of Sam's heart. They were too slow, but at least they were there.
"Please tell me we're almost there," he said to the pilot.
"We're about one minute away. A team is waiting for you." Bobby breathed heavily as he took the bag back from the co-pilot and continued to pump air into Sam's lungs. He wondered how he was going to explain this to Bosco. He was supposed to be watching out for Sam. If he had been doing his job, how come she had almost died? As he could see Sweet Memorial Hospital come into view, he said a silent prayer that the little girl would survive. That was the best he could do, for now.