My thanks to all the people I couldn't reach with a pm. I greatly appreciate every review. And also thanks to everyone who had something to say via private message. Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts with me.

Purple Heart – Chapter 03

Northern Iraq – March 2006

Major Jensen looked out to the landing site where a helicopter should land any minute now. They would bring in a casualty from a massive bomb explosion. That was all the information they received.

"Massive bomb explosion. That can mean anything from missing limbs to multiple blast trauma," he said to his colleague Captain Tucker.

"Did they say how many?" Tucker asked his CO.

"Just one. But we didn't get any other information than that. The chopper's radio went out."

"I didn't hear about any attacks in the last hour," Tucker said. Normally, they heard about such things first. It was one of the perks of being on the second biggest base in Iraq. They even had a very decent hospital at Al Asad Airbase. Tucker was glad he was not stationed at a field hospital. The conditions there were a lot worse than here.

Both doctors looked up when they heard the helicopter approaching. Two airmen got ready to take the injured man over from the air-crew. It was routine for them; they did that dozens of times a day. So, when the helicopter touched down they were already on the run to take over their charge.

It was not a good sign that the injured soldier was intubated and obviously unconscious.

Steve was transferred from the helicopter onto the waiting gurney in a matter of moments, and they hurried to get him into the trauma room and out of the heat and whirling dust.

"What do we have?" Major Tucker asked the corpsman as he took his first cursory look at his new patient.

"Lieutenant McGarrett; US Navy; 29; was fifteen feet from an explosion; according to his men, he was thrown 50 feet into a brick wall; they dug him out of rubble; primary injuries: blast injury to both ears; inability to breathe; probable pulmonary contusion from the shock-wave; no bleeding from the gastrointestinal tract; no secondary injuries; tertiary injuries from hitting the wall; massive bruising lower back; TBI with probable skull fracture," the corpsman rattled off the injuries they had encountered so far. Everyone in the room knew that blast injuries often only manifest after time had passed. All air-filled organs were in extreme danger due to the change in pressure.

That Steve was not bleeding from the gastrointestinal tract didn't mean anything. That could change any minute. Also any TBI would certainly get worse with time, as would any injuries to the middle or inner ear. Blast injuries were extremely dangerous and tricky.

"Alright, get him completely out of his gear. I want a full scan; also blood, urine… the works, and call Sweeney, I want him to check his ears. Come on people, let's save this guy."

H50 – H50 – H50

An hour later it was clear that their newest patient was the luckiest bastard on planet earth. The blast he had been subjected to should have had killed him, instead he was still very much alive and just regaining consciousness.

Steve felt like he had been hit by a bus. Make that a house. Steve would have snorted at his stupid joke, but he couldn't because there was something blocking his throat. It made him gag a little, which brought on a chain of events.

Someone was touching him, and he could feel people milling around him. He got the feeling that he was not supposed to be awake. Why that was he was not sure. Steve tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't even flutter. That scared him a little, and it showed in his heart rate; it went up to over a hundred beats per minute. His BP went up as well, and that brought even more people to the scene.

He felt something injected into his arm, something cold. But again, he couldn't look at who was giving him the injection. He couldn't even move his head. It took Steve a minute to figure out that his neck was stabilized with a c-collar that was preventing him from moving.

He had a myriad of pictures in his head and a terrible ringing in his ears, but oddly enough no other sounds reached him. No beeping of any machinery that was surely attached to him, or any voices. It was a bit unnerving. Combined with not seeing anything it was freaking him out.

Steve wished he could open his eyes, but no matter how hard he tried he was just not able to do it. Come to think of it, he was not able to move anything. Oh God! Realization hit Steve hard; and his heart beat and BP shot up again, regardless of the medication. He suddenly remembered the blast and the incredible pain in his back and head. Steve was now in a full-blown panic, but without body-movement. He was screaming inside his head, and struggling with all his might, but still not even his fingers moved.

He could feel another medication entering his system and against his will, he calmed down. His situation suddenly was not of interest to him anymore. He gave in to the strong lethargy that took hold and if his eyes had been open one would have seen them roll back into his head. Steve was out like a light.

H50 – H50 – H50

"Is he prepped for surgery?" Captain Tucker asked the orderly currently busy with Steve's IV.

"Yes, Sir. He is ready to go."

"Good." Tucker took his patient's file and made a few notes in it. The otologist had decided that the damage to Steve's left ear needed to be repaired as soon as possible. Or they wouldn't be able to fly him out, first to Germany and later back home. Steve had suffered a skull fracture right behind his ear, thankfully without a depression, but the excessive force to that region of his head did a lot of damage to his inner and middle ear. His right ear had fared a lot better though. On that side, the ruptured eardrum was the most serious injury, whereas the same injury was the least of their concerns on the left side.

They had to very carefully monitor the pressure in Steve's head. Due to the shock-wave that hit him and then the impact into the wall, Steve had also suffered a severe concussion and a small intra-cranial bleed. As it stood at the moment it didn't look like he would need surgery, but they had to keep a close eye on the development.

The damage to the lungs was minimal and Steve was lucky; so far he hadn't developed any complications from the gastrointestinal tract. And he had suffered no injuries to his liver or bladder. Steve had a small splenic hemorrhage, but they were confident that he didn't need surgery. The impact on his back had caused a contusion to his right kidney, but again, it was mild and only needed observation. All in all, Steve was a very lucky guy. His body armor had saved him from fatal trauma.

The most serious injuries were to his head and might take a few months to heal. Barring any complication that was.

And they found out that there would be complications as soon as Steve woke up. Which didn't happen fully for over a week. By then he had left Iraq and was already in Washington.

H50 – H50 – H50

Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, ICU, nine days after the explosion in Iraq

Steve became aware that he was lying in a bed, and that something was still stuck in his throat. Thankfully he was at least not flat on his back anymore, but in a slightly raised position. He could make out strange noises that sounded like voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. It was very muffled, like they were talking through a gag. He tried to open his eyes, but that proved to be difficult. Finally, he managed to open them to small slits and was assaulted by severe pain from the light that was like a laser right into his brain.

He was sure that he had groaned. He felt a hand on his chest, obviously to calm him. It worked somewhat; at least it grounded him a little. Steve prepared himself and slowly opened his eyes again. This time the pain didn't assault him like before, but the throbbing in his head increased with every second he kept his eyes open.

In front of him stood a doctor, at least his name-tag said so, and what Steve assumed was a nurse. He saw that they were talking, but he still couldn't understand them. It worried him that he was not able to hear them; it felt more like white noise. Nothing like the terrible high pitched ringing from before, but still nothing one could call meaningful noises like words.

But the worst was that they wavered in and out of focus. Steve felt incredible dizzy. A dizziness like he never had experienced before. The room was spinning around him, and everything seemed to be in motion. It was a very disturbing and nauseating feeling.

The doctor suddenly held a legal pad in front of Steve. But he couldn't make out what it was saying. It was all blurry. His confusion must have shown on his face, because the doc took the pad and wrote something new on it. This time in big bold letters; they were easier to make out.

KEEP CALM

WE WILL

He again took the pad, turned to a new page and wrote on it.

TAKE OUT

THE TUBE

Steve nodded.

COUGH WHEN

YOU FEEL A PULL

Steve nodded again to show that he understood.

It took another minute until the tube finally came out. Steve coughed at what he hoped was the appropriate time. It still made him gag when the tube scratched along his trachea when it came out. The coughing made his headache a lot worse and Steve couldn't but groan at the increased pain. He closed his eyes and hoped the pain would lessen soon.

Thankfully, it did, helped along by the medication that had been injected into his IV. Steve realized that he must have dozed off for a few minutes. When he opened his eyes again the doctor was gone, and only the nurse was still there; smiling at him.

"Hi there," at least that is what Steve read from her lips and what he thought he heard.

"Hi," Steve croaked out. His throat hurt, and made speaking painful.

"Don't talk. Your… bruised… accident… tube… okay?" Steve was not sure what she just said, and shook his head.

"Be right back," that was easy to understand.

Steve watched her leave and took a look around the room. It was not really a room, more like a cubicle in a bigger room. He could make out many beds on this station, which he figured was an intensive care unit. He looked to the left of him and could see a monitor that was obviously recording his vitals. There also was a stand with three bags of liquids and the lines went through some sort of electric device. He knew it was a pump that regulated the delivery of whatever was in those bags.

He looked at his arms, but they were IV-free, so that meant he must have a central line by his collar bone. And one look under the blanket confirmed his suspicion of another tube he didn't like. He was just glad he didn't have a feeding tube; they probably took it out earlier. That was as far as he came with his observations until his nurse returned. She again had a smile on her face and a legal pad in her hand.

She held up the first one that someone had obviously written in advance.

YOU ARE IN D.C. – WALTER REED

YOUR TEAM IS OKAY – NO INJURIES

YOU WILL BE FINE

She was actually pretty good, those were his most pressing questions.

PLEASE TRY NOT TO TALK

YOUR VOCAL CORDS WERE

SLIGHTLY INJURED

Well, that would explain the discomfort he felt in his throat. "What day?" Steve mouthed without actually speaking the words.

HERE 4 DAYS

BUT YOU WERE INJURED 9 DAYS AGO

And just as always, Steve's dream ended there. Every time he realized that he had been in the hospital for such a long time already, he woke up.

Steve woke to sunshine filtering into his bedroom. It was a nice contrast to his gloomy dream. It was not much fun to go through the explosion again and again, or to learn what his injuries were. And that he barely came out of it alive. Waking up in D.C. he had to learn that he had suffered multiple head trauma, which resulted in loss of hearing in both ears. And combined with the trauma to his lower back, also loss of function of his lower extremities. He could feel his legs, but he couldn't move them. Which was extremely frustrating, and painful.

Due to the injury to his inner ear, he had lost his sense of balance, which slowed his recovery immensely. He still suffered cases of severe vertigo from time to time. The medication he took helped most days, but sometimes it didn't and his equilibrium was shot to hell.

A bit over two weeks after waking up, he was switched to outpatient status. It was not necessary to spend his days in bed or even in the hospital any longer. He had daily therapy sessions in various departments, but for that he didn't need to stay and occupy a hospital bed.

Three weeks after living as an outpatient his request of doing at least a few hours of desk duty a day was granted and allowed by his doctor. Steve would start to go mad if he couldn't at least be a little productive. And having therapy only occupied him for so long.

Forty-four days after being blasted into a wall and suffering life-threatening injuries, he went back to work. Behind a desk and only for a few hours a day, but he was starting to get his life back. One painstakingly slow step at a time.

H50 – H50 – H50

Thank you all for reading. I hope you are still enjoying this story. The next chapter will be up soon.