A/n:
People have been asking for this this so I figured I'd better do it. :D
Enjoy. :)
Btw, I don't own Percy Jackson, good ol' Unkle Rick does. :D
3rd Person
"He needs that mask now! We have to keep him breathing!"
"Heart rate's dropping!"
"Someone put something on those wounds!"
"We're five minutes away, hang on kid!"
The paramedics in the ambulence were working quickly, hands going everywhere, weird tools being used and put asaide at an amazing rate.
The high school coach, who'd volenteered to supervise the kid's jouney and arrival t the hospital, was scared. He liked and highly respected this kid and was just waiting for the chance to get those jocks kicked out of school!
He'd given then extended detentions for a month and put them on report, but that was the most he could do, he was only a gym coach.
He remembered what had happened as the beeping got slower. Beep...
XXXXXXXX-kind of flash back-XXXXXXXX
He'd been on teh other side of the grounds when he'd heard the scream, but it only took him a minute to get there. But that may have been too long.
Beep...
He'd turned the corner and been greeted by a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his days. The yound hero, bleeding and broken on the floor, surrounded by brass-knuckled thugs. All of them covered in blood. Percy's blood.
Beep...
He'd screamed for help and ran to the boy. He'd freaked out when he couldn't immediately find a pulse. He'd muttered. "Please be ok, kid. Please" Over and over, preyed to any God listening for help. And it looked like this boy was favoured as his fingers found the pulse, it was weak, but there.
Beep...
Then he'd assessed the kid's injuries, almost throwing up at the sight. He was covered in deep cuts and terrible bruising and worst of all...his bullet wounds had re-opened.
He tried to bind them, using the kid's jacket to desperately try to stem the blood flow, to no avail. The torrent of crimson liquid would just seep through, soaking the material then ignoring it all togeth. He'd almost cried as the child hero's life blood seeped into the earth.
Beep...
He could feel how close the boy was to death just holding him.
"You idiots!" He's screamed t the ignorant thugs who'd been arrognt enough not to appreciate the hero, "You'v re-opened his bullet wounds! Probably caused internal bleeding! He could die and it's your fault!" He's been seething and his vision had clouded red at their next comment.
"So he wasn't llying about being shot?"
"What!" His rage flared. "Of course not you idiots! He risked his life for a stranger and you've repayed that by beating him to death!"
"Help..." His heart had stopped when he heard the weak plea, "S-some" inhale "one-p-please." He'd crie when he saw the boy's eyes close.
"SOMEONE CALL 911!"
XXXXXX-end flash back-XXXXXXXxx
"He's crashed!"
"Get the defibrilatores NOW!"
He heard the wurring as they charged up as if he wasn't actually there, an echo, coming from far away, a diferent reality, a worse reality.
He heard the bang as they shot electricity through the dying boy, arching his back.
"No response. Turn them up. Come on, come on."
Again. His back arched to an unnatural angle as the bolts seared through hs body.
"We've got a pulse!"
He breathed. Not realising he'd been holding his breath, waiting for the kid to breath with him.
"How are his lungs?" Oh God, he hadn't thought of that. What if suh violent movement caused even more damage to his already troubled lungs.
"We won't be able to find out until we get there."
Then they'd turned a corner and he coudl see the pristine, white hospital.
"Ok everyone, get ready to move him."
The next few hours passed in a blur for the coach.
He cringed everytime they moved him.
He hyperventilated when they mentioned surgery. To reinflate a dying lung.
He'd paced in the waiting room. Dreading having to tell tarrible news to the boys parents.
He's been sick when they told him the boys condition: a severly damaged lung, cuts and bruises covering his body, internal bleeding in two places from the blows, re-opened wounds and a fracture in the leg with his gunshot wound.
He'd finally relaxed when they told him they boy should survive.
And he'd thanked whichever god who' listened the next morning, when they told him that it was a miracle. That the boy should have died immediately with those wounds, but a combination of strength on the boy's behalf and amazing luck had ment that he' make a full recovery. He'd always have phantom pains, it wasn't just a possability anymore and he's have some horrible scars. But he would survive, he wouldn't have any serious brerathing problems and he'd be able to walk just fine, with some hard work and determination.
He couldn't imagine the pain the boy was in, especially considering the fact that the painkillers didn't work on him-he could go into shock or something worse due to pain.
But he was strong.
And the coach was just so glad he'd survived.
A/n:
This will have quite a few more parts to it I think, a nice little mini story for you. I probably wont be updating this regularly after this story (unless someone or myself comes up with an exciting idea) so it will be technically finished after the end of this short story unless I say otherwise. However, please still send in ideas, if I get a good one I will most definitely add it even if it's ages from now and I've left the story long ago.
I hope you're all enjoying this and I feel quite sorry for Percy, having to go back to school after this. I feel quite mean.
But as long as you like it. :D I try my best.
-Samantha2611