A/N: You guys all rock! We cannot believe all the responses. So keep it up, we love them all!!!
Danny's eyes widened in shock, if it wasn't for Flack supporting him he felt he would have fallen to the floor right there.
'Come on Danny.' Flack half-carried, half-dragged his broken friend to the waiting room. Sid and Peyton sat there head in there hands. Flack was freaking out. Adam would be here soon, and then they'd all be here. They'd be safe. No-one was going to die today. Not on his watch anyway.
--
Mac sat in on the bed in the ER. His neck was gauzed up and he was hooked up to an IV. He slid toward the end of the bed and stuck his head around the closed off curtain. Anxious to see whether his friends were alive he started to walk pulling the IV along behind him. He wasn't paying attention to the people bustling around him. He composed himself and walked as straight as he could toward the nurses desk.
He looked to either side of him and saw the four trauma rooms. None were vacant . Weaving through the groups of nurses and abandoned gurneys he stood at the window. Gazing in at whomever might be in there. He saw Hawkes lying there, his jeans cut off and his leg a bloody mess. Mac had seen these injuries before in men he'd been just as close too. But this had a different effect on him. He felt hollow and weak. Something growing older had burdened him with. Hawke's face contorted in a mixture of pain and relief as the morphine started to kick in. It wouldn't be long before he was stabilized and shipped of to surgery.
He blamed himself for the hardships thrust upon them all.
--
Adam was pushed through the ER. He was aching all over. Flack had raided the warehouse SWAT alongside him. They'd been ready to shoot the two innocent bystanders when he'd stepped in. The very effort alone had exhausted him, but he promised himself as he sat in that truck. He was going to find Lindsay. It was a reaction he held with any of his friends. If it had been Danny he'd have felt the same way. But without a shadow of a doubt he was going to track down the people that did this too him and too her.
He came to a halt just before the swinging doors. He saw his team sitting in the waiting room. Flack with a supportive arm around Danny. Who was nothing more than a broken shadow of his former self. A pang of guilt rippled through him. He could only imagine what had happened to Lindsay after she'd been taken away. He'd tried to follow her, to protect his friend. But got a beating for his efforts. And as he turned away a doctor had approached the four people sitting on the metallic chairs. Danny was shell-shocked from whatever he was hearing.
Something was wrong. Beyond wrong under any circumstances. Where were the rest of them. Hawkes, Stella and Mac. Why weren't they part of the concerned group. What had happened after the warehouse?
--
'Miss Bonasara?' Stella forced her eyes to open, the pain that was tearing through her arm and chest was something she'd never felt before. But then again, she'd never been shot, and she never wanted to again. She could feel the oxygen mask on her face and the wires connected to her skin.
'I'm Doctor Lewis, how are you feeling?' The woman who looked down at her was contorted by her vision much like the rest of the room. Her head was splitting the pain blinding.
'You've been shot.' Stella's mind spat out witty comment after witty comment her mouth unable to form them into any form of coherent sentence understandable to humans.
'It seems to have torn through the nerves in your arm. We're going to operate. We have to know who your next of kin is.' Stella pulled her free and moderetly painless arm to her face.
'Taylor……Mac.' She gasped with the effort and felt herself falling into a slumber once again.
--
Sam Coe had never expected to be faced with a gunshot victim on his first day in the ER. He'd heard it was relatively rare. Even with the ever growing gun culture in New York City. But they'd been bombarded with cases today. 5 in total. One only superficial the rest all needing some sort of surgery. But the case he was presented with now was one that he was struggling to comprehend. 29-year old women lay before him, her head smashed in and most of the ribs on one side broken, her thumb crushed and her shoulder so disjointed it seemed to be disconnected entirely.
But most worryingly of all was the wound in her abdomen. It had entered her right side just above the liver. Fragmenting on impact had caused many of her vital organs to be damaged in more ways than one. And she was still alive. Not breathing of her own accord and having reacquired resuscitation twice before they'd even started to examine her however was the least of her worries. And it seemed that before they could even begin to start her surgery, which would without a doubt be extensive, he had to inform the family and from what he heard. That was going to be no easy task. Not when he had to inform them her chances of surviving through the night were tilting greatly out of her favour.
A/N : Erm there we go. How was that then. Not to bad I hope. We've really been on the updating wagon lately! 'spose the reviews are helping so guess what, its time to push the little purple button that'ssomewhat. calling your name. And thanks to part of the queue for bringing Adam into this chapter. And of course every wonderful person out there who reviewed.