#mediwhumpmay day 25

[its-my-whump]

The Merry Whump of May - Medi Whump May – Day 26

@themerrywhumpofmay: "Hammer time." - pocket watch

@mediwhumpmay: sedation - poisioning

Follow-up: Days 21 - 25

A woman was still talking to her, but everything was a blur by now.

Totally absorbed in the moment, Tonya was starring at Sam's bandana, that he had used to dress the first of many wounds today. Now, it was dirty, dusty, torn and bloody. 'Just like him.'

She just couldn't calm down anymore.

A penlight danced over one eye, than the next. Someone still trying to talk to her.

They gave her a mild sedative to break her emotional overthrow. Apathetically Tonya watched the helicopter been lifted in the air by an invisible force. There was no sound whatsoever.

It totally went by her attention how that SUV just came to be and mystically appeared in the canyon. She was seated in the back, that woman still by her side, two men in the front.

It felt like someone had wrapped her into a tight blanket made of cotton balls. 'That was making no sense.' The ride was bumpy, her body was balancing against the unsteady ground all by itself, as if it was remotely controlled. She tried to listen what they were talking about, but it felt like only listening with one ear, not really paying attention to a running TV.

The man on the passenger side reached into his left pocket, pulled something out and then opened a pocket watch to take a look. 'That was making no sense. Who would still use a pocket watch?'

She tried to redirect her attention to the playing radio. "Hammer time." Someone screamed. Wasn't that supposed to be in a song. She couldn't tell, nothing felt real. There was no context. 'And that was making no sense either.'

Tonya's gaze fell onto her right leg. The bandage was dusty and stained in red and brown. Bright red blood had started tickling down from under the lower rim, finding a way down her dusty leg over the edge of her sock and painted her shoe. She was following every drop with silent fascination.

'Why wasn't it hurting. Why wasn't she feeling anything. Couldn't it at least burn or ache, so she could feel at least something to concentrate on?'

"STOP." Everybody was startled by her sudden outcry. "Stop the car." She ripped the door open, her legs buckled the moment her feet should have supported her bodyweight.

And then it just felt like she was puking her heart out, again and again.

During a little barf-free moment, in which another look onto the disgusting stuff between her hands would have only brought even more disgusting stuff upstairs, her eyes fell onto that bandana wrapped around her hand.

Hot burning tears trailed a path through a dry layer of dust on her face again.

#

Sam reached the hospital alive, but barely. His vitals were already on a straight pass to settling 6 feet under. Severe head trauma, blood loss, a ruptured kidney, broken and fractured rips, from which parts had tried to rearrange themselves inside his torso. Internal bleeding, hypothermia, dehydration, a broken leg, a fractured arm, above literally a few dozen lacerations were too much. He was balancing on the brink of death and didn't regain consciousness.

#

Peter had a bad conscience leaving Sam with Tonya, when he was the one convincing his best friend to give it another shoot while all 4 of them spend the day hiking. If it had turned south, at least there were him and Emily to distracted one of each to save the day. Had he only known how far south it was able to go.

Unfortunately Emily managed to catch herself a bug from their usual take-out place, which then turned out to be food poisoning. Peters intestines probably made of steel hardly registered, that they should have been upset. Still their day trip hiking with Sam and Tonya had to be cancelled. Peter would have never left his girlfriend spending hours of the bowl alone, but the bad conscience regarding Sammy was still there.

On Sunday evening Emily was up and running again, just grabbing herself a tea from the kitchen, while Peter zapped through the channels, simultaneously playing with his phone and the though to call Sam. Peter wasn't really paying attention to the news, still scrolling through his messages. A deep desperate sigh came from behind his back. He turned around, seeing the pale shocked face of Emily starring at the TV screen now behind him. Her lips were trembling, the cup in her hands shaking, when one hand loosened its grip and a finger even more trembling by now was raised to the TV.

Out of reflex Peters head snapped back. The female anchor was in mid sentence, but he didn't understand a word she was saying. His attention was dragged to the footage of a rescue helicopter flying over a canyon. More emergency personal on the ground, vehicles could be seen in the ravine. " two... rescued this morning.... flown to St. James Hospital...." All of it was running through the background of Peters conscious thoughts, when his eyes adjusted on two pictures that had popped up at the upper right side of the screen.

Showing and naming their friends. ".... critical condition..."

A dull sound indicated, that Peters phone just dropped to the floor.

In under 5 minutes they were out to door and on their way to St. James Hospital. Emily was frantically trying to call both friends on their mobiles. The couple couldn't believe, that the news were actually real. Both phones went straight to voicemail, for Sam's was still laying in his car 4.5 miles from that ravine in an area, where there wasn't any reception anyway and Tonya's was broken during her fall.

#

After they got as much conherent information as they could, Emily needed to comfort a weeping Tonya and Peter silently retreated and hesitantly went to see his unconscious friend in the ICU.

Sam was just laying there, unresponsive. Besides countless broken and dislocated bones, he had a serious brain injury. After several hours in surgery his condition was still highly critical.

Peter was staring at his friend. He felt reminded to a similar picture so many years ago. The time there really got to know each other and became friends, best friends.*

A constant spike on the heartmonitor showed, he was still here despite all other signs actually wanted to show him something different. A bloodpressure cuff was on his left, the IV on his right arm. Bags with fluids and a bloodtransfusion by the bed. His right forearm was in a cast.

Half of his face seems to be fighting a contest against the other half covered in white gauze about who's got to be more pale. Sam's skin had a slight advantage, for the gauze was painted with red dots bleeding through.

The sharp contrast of his white chest against colourful bruises, copied from a rainbow, littering it, was disturbing. A tube snaked from under the sheets, leading into a bag with a puddle of light red.

On every part of his exposed skin there were cuts and lacerations. Some of them dressed, some of them stitched, some just hardly touched.

Peters legs were getting more unsteady the longer his eyes scanned the limb body of his friend. He grabbed for a chair and set by his bed, instinctively but gently touching his left bruised hand. There was a slide hiccup in Sam's heartbeat. Peter didn't notice his eyes gotten wet, only now just realised it as the tears started falling.

"God dammit Sammy. I thought, we left all of this shit behind." There was some movement throughout Sam's upper body. Peters voice sounded weak and low, almost unnatural. The lump preventing him to speak any louder.

"You know, it's 13 years today? 13 fucking years, since I saw you like this. To the fucking day, my friend, to the f..." A sob escaped his deepest core unintended, he couldn't end his sentence.

Finally, Peter swallow that lump and cleared his throat. He was fighting to brace himself again. Sam's breathing sped up a bit, it was kind of wheezing. It seemed as if, the atmosphere started to shift.

Peter though the temperature just drops by 10 degrees. Goosebumps crawled over his skin, while his subconscious was already processing what was about to happen.

'There was no way, he was gonna lose his friend over a stupid hiking trip, no fucking way. Not after all, he had been through. Not after his beating sadistic stepfather, not after the hell of social services, not after finally finding his place in life. No fucking way.' Anger was overflowing Peters mind and soul, the cold of his dark thoughts before was forgotten.

Sam's heart was definitely and undeniably acting out by now, his body longing for air. Something was more than wrong here.

Peters pushed the emergency button, his heart had dropped into his stomach. But his voice was strong again, yet still there was a tremor. "Andrew Samuel Cooper! You listen to me! If you decide, to give up on me now, I will most definitely follow you on your toes and kick your damn ass back down here. You understand me?!"

Sam's body was cramping, while his unconscious frantic grasps for breath were indicating, that he was about to suffocate. His limp hand fell back to the bed, when Peter was pushed out of the room. Hot tears just flowing down his cheeks.

(That was the moment, leading to the necessity of a chest tube.)

TBC (here)

I may have built a bridge to Sammys aka Andys (Andrew Samuel Coopers) past and how Peter and him get to know each other so many years ago. The whumpril stories stand for themselves, no reference to the whumping in May. Please have merci, those were my first writings.

Whumpril

Day 23

Day 27

Day 29

Day 30

[faofinn]

Day 21 - Field Medicine

@mediwhumpmay

“Are we nearly there?”

Fao rolled his eyes and smacked his brother lightly on the thigh. “Finn I swear to God if you say that one more time I'll do 30 the rest of the way there.”

“I’ve only asked it like ten times. Wait until you’ve got kids.”

“If I wanted kids, I'd have kids. You're fucking 25. Look it up on your phone if you want to know.” He teased. 

“Such a grump.”

“And you're surprised?”

“We’re on holiday, you’re meant to be happy.”

“I am happy, I'm back home.”

“Tell your attitude that.” Finn yawned as he tried to stretch out.

“I'd be happier if I wasn't driving a literal child.”

“I’m not a child! You said yourself I’m 25.”

“Acting like you're five.”

“You’re acting like you’re five.” Finn grumbled back. 

Fao laughed. “If you're really that desperate to know, we're about twenty minutes away.”

“Forever away. Want a snack?”

“Sure, if you've not eaten them all.”

“Saved you some.” Finn struggled to keep a straight face as he passed Fao half a crisp. “There you go.”

Fao rolled his eyes, taking the crisp and throwing it back at Finn. “Aw, you shouldn't have.” He replied, laughing. 

“Seriously though, what do you want?”

“Whatever you've got, you know I'm not fussy.”

“That’s a lie.” He laughed in response, passing Fao a snack for real. “We’ve still got plenty of stuff if you’re hungry. Mum made emergency sandwiches.”

“Mum makes emergency everything.” Fao replied. “We'll eat for real when we get there.”

“I hope so.”

“Promise.”

“Full three course meal.”

“Well, I wouldn't go quite that far.”

“I would. I’m starving.”

“I'm a good cook but I'm not that good.”

“Should have got a cottage.”

“You wanted to camp!”

“Yeah, well!” Finn was stumped for an answer.

“You can't be pissy with me for listening to you.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“Come on, it'll be fun. We're gonna roast marshmallows.”

“I can tell you about the stars, if we see them.”

“Yeah, exactly. Hopefully the clouds will clear.”

“It’s not London. You’ll actually be able to breathe.”

Fao laughed. “I've not been able to breathe for years. Beginning to doubt I even have lungs.”

“Smoking does that to you.”

“Ah, save me the lecture. I get it from Mum every time I go home.”

Finn grinned at Fao. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was a pause, Finn looking at his phone for a moment before he spoke. “How-”

“Fucking hell, Finn! It’s two minutes from the last time I told you!” Fao exclaimed. 

Soon enough they reached Fao’s place, and got their little campsite set up. It had been a long day travelling, and they were glad to get the tent up and the fire going. After that they ate, laughing and joking between themselves. 

Once they’d finished eating, they toasted marshmallows, Finn deliberately trying to steal Fao’s. More laughter ensued, and they spent a while afterwards just sitting by the fire enjoying the warmth. That was when Finn turned to him, a grin on his face. 

“I’m hungry.”

“Finn, you literally just ate.” 

“And? I’m hungry again.”

“Jesus. Fine, let’s go get some snacks or something.” Fao grumbled, standing up and grabbing his keys. 

"You should have packed better."

“I packed fine!” Fao protested. “You’re just eating me out of house and home.”

"I'm growing."

“You’re an adult, you’re not growing!” Fao unlocked the car, getting in and waiting for Finn to join him. The village near to his big house was small, but there was a little shop he could keep Finn happy by buying some snacks. Halfway there, Fao frowned. “I think we’re being followed.”

"You didn’t tell anyone, did you?" Finn glanced in the mirror. "I can't read the reg from here."

“I only told Dad.” Fao said. “Nobody else, I swear. Think you could get the reg if I brake test him?”

"Don't crash into anything." He muttered, twisting in his seat to have a better view. "Ready?"

The stretch of road was straight, Fao would have plenty of time. He knew he was testing the limits, this could end badly, but he had to try. 

“Ready.” He checked his mirror, eased off the accelerator and hit the brakes sharply, hoping to reduce the distance between them and the other car. 

Finn struggled to read the reg behind him, but quickly made a note. It wasn’t one of theirs, and not one he recognised as being on their lists. His frown deepened, and he reached for his phone to text Fred.

"It's not a plate I recognise." He murmured. "Maybe they're just being a dick? Take a few turns and see if they drop off."

Fao had caught enough of it, and quickly sped up again. “Not one of Tomas’, either, I don’t think. I’ll see if we can lose them.”

"Maybe just an arse on the roads. There's plenty of them."

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

"Youre one of them." He tried to joke. 

“Careful, or you can walk.” 

"Go on, I dare you."

“I will!”

As they drove, Fao taking endless turns, he was sure he’d managed to lose the car that had been following them. He was still on edge, though, as they pulled up outside the shop and hopped out. He had an unsettled feeling, as his brother dragged him round, constantly on edge. 

He was right to be worried, because moments later there was an almighty crash, followed by an even louder explosion. 

The explosion had Finn shoved away from Fao, the flash and noise disorienting him further. The pain came next, burning down his abdomen and leg, blood already dripping in his eyes. 

It ripped through the building, tearing walls apart and showering bricks everywhere. Fao was knocked to the ground, his ears ringing, and it took him a moment to recover. When he did, he was aware of the searing pain in his shoulder, the tingling in his fingers. Almost certainly dislocated, he realised sluggishly. As he took stock of the rest of his body, the headache was something, distracting enough, but nothing else seemed bad. Coughing, he forced himself to his knees, his bad arm held close to his chest the best he could. 

“Finn!”

There was rubble and debris everywhere, the air thick and choking. Finn struggled to get a breath in, his chest tight and each breath a stab of agony. He tried and failed to sit up, instinctively curling onto his side. This was going to be how he was going to die.

Finn didn’t respond, only fuelling Fao’s anxiety. He struggling to his feet, hauling himself up. He seemed to take weight okay, but his knee twinged and definitely wasn’t comfortable. He didn’t have much of a choice, he needed to get to his brother. 

“Finn!” He called again. “Where are you?!”

"Fa-" Finn broke off, coughing again. Spots danced in his vision and he dropped his head back to the concrete. 

Finn’s cough was just about enough for Fao to find where he was and he rushed towards him as best he could. When he found him, he fell to his knees, reaching for him. 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Finn managed to grab at Fao's hand, gripping it as tight as he could. They'd be fine if they were together. 

Fao squeezed his hand. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

If only it was that easy. He could feel the dizziness pulling at him, the darkness teasing him with emptiness and pain free.

Fao could see him giving up. “Hey, hey, no. Stay with me, that’s it. What hurts?”

What didn't? He could have laughed, but that was just energy he didn't have. He forced his eyes open again, trying to focus on Fao’s face. 

“That’s it, look at me. I know it sucks, I know. Can you let go of my hand so I can have a look at you?”

"Don't go." He managed, voice cracked. 

“I’m not going, I just need my hand.”

He let go of Fao’s hand, letting it drop to the ground by his side. "I want to go home."

“Me too.” Fao murmured, looking over him. 

"Sorry." 

“It’s alright. Let’s just look after you.” He murmured. He could see the blood on his forehead, but that wasn’t what was concerning him the most. With the hand that he could use properly, he skimmed over Finn, feeling for blood, for pain, anything that could tell him what was going on. 

Finn winced, biting his already bloody lip to stop the scream that was building. He knew Fao had to check; he could feel the break to his ribs himself, and he knew they were the least of his problems. 

“I know, I know.” Fao tried to soothe. He could feel the ribs himself, but there wasn’t much he could do about them. 

As Fao’s hands reached his leg, Finn shoved them away. "Off."

“I need to check Finn.” Fao said, reaching for his knife. It was easy enough to cut Finn’s trousers, and then at least he could see what he was dealing with.

"Fao, no." His voice cracked again, choking on the thickness of the air. Panic flared through him as the pain took over, pushing him under. 

Fao swore to himself, but it was easier with Finn unconscious. The leg was in bad shape, the ankle obviously broken and his knee badly dislocated. Fao reached with his bad arm and swore at himself, pain lancing through it. Stupid thing. There was a cut above his eye which was stinging with sweat and bleeding stubbornly down his face, and he wiped it away roughly. He needed to focus. The leg looked like the worst of it for Finn, but as he watched him breathe he realised his brother was struggling. If only he had some kit, anything. This was so hard flying completely blind. 

Finn didn't bother moving as he came to, too much of his energy just being spent on breathing. Even that wasn't enough, feeling like he was trying to breathe from underwater. The more the dust settled, the more the thoughts became clearer. If whoever had done this had a tiny bit of brain, they'd make sure the job was done, and done completely. Not wanting to stay the sitting duck he was, Finn fidgeted, only growing more agitated against Fao's hands as he tried to find his gun. 

“Finn, Finn. Settle, it’s okay.” Fao told him. 

Maybe Fao had his, a moment of slight clarity from Finn before he tried to reach for his brother’s gun. "Not bein' a duck."

“A duck? Fucking hell, you are concussed.” Fao muttered, moving Finns hands away from him. “Relax, okay? I’m not finished checking you over.”

"Need…need the gun."

“No. I need you to stay still.”

"They're gon-gonna be here."

“I’m trying to help. I can’t help if you keep moving.”

"They're not the ducks." Finn managed, frustrated. "Up."

“Good fucking luck getting up on that leg.” 

"Then help."

“I can’t, I need you to stay put.” He said. The dark patch on Finn’s top was worrying him, and his breathing was getting worse. 

"Please." He started coughing, specks of blood collecting on the concrete.

That wasn’t a good sign. Fuck. Why did this have to happen here, with no resources? He hoped emergency services were coming, but it already felt like an eternity. Maybe it wasn’t safe yet. Fao’s head was still pounding, every cough from Finn just jolting it and making it so much worse. He swiped at the cut on his brow again, and couldn’t work out if the blood on his hands was his or Finn’s. 

Finn had managed to get more upright, but it barely lasted a moment. His chest pulled and darkness loomed wit each forced inhale. He twisted to grab at something, but the movement made everything so much worse. He pitched forward into Fao's chest.

Fao groaned. “Fuck, Finn. Lay down, Jesus.” 

"Help me then." He slurred, though didn't dare move. 

“I’m trying!” Fao snapped. “But you’re not fucking listening to me!”

He pulled away at that. "Fuck you, then."

“Jus’ do as I fucking say!”

There was a flash of hurt across his face, confusion at why his brother would snap at him when he was just trying to get some help. It didn't last long, crumpling back onto the ground, his head bouncing off the concrete. With a bit of space between the two, and despite the thickness of the air, it was all too obvious that Finn was very not well. 

He was paler than usual, his hair matted with blood and dust. The worst, more worrying sign was the cyanosis to his lips, and, as he lay still, the hiss to his chest with each forced breath. 

Fao winced. He’d not meant to snap like that, but he was so stressed, so anxious about the whole situation, he’d just lost it with his brother. Hopefully he wouldn’t really remember it. He adjusted his focus to Finn’s chest, concern building as his brother struggled for each breath. He had no chest X-ray, no stethoscope, nothing, but he knew things weren’t right. The wound on Finns chest was a massive cause for concern, and he knew it was more than likely his brother had a collapsed lung. But how the fuck was he supposed to fix that in the rubble of a little shop? 

Now Finn couldn’t fuss when he left, Fao could get up and look for supplies. There wasn’t a lot, but something was surely better than nothing. Something to stop the bleeding, alcohol to disinfect, some stuff he was hoping he could fudge into a chest drain of sorts. Maybe that would give Finn enough relief until they could get help. He found his phone then, it finally occurring to him to use it, and was relieved it had a tiny bit of signal. If proper services weren’t coming, he’d take matters into his own hands. 

It was Harrison that answered Fao’s call, half asleep and confused. "What's happening?"

“Hars.” Fao rasped, relieved he’d answered. “I need you to go and wake Fred. Finn and I-“ He broke off to cough. “We’ve been hit.”

"What? Fuck, where are you? What's happened?"

“Some co-op near the house. I don’t know, we were followed an’ then…” He trailed off. “Finn’s in bad shape.”

Harrison could feel the fear from Fao. "How badly?"

“Bad. I think he’s got a pneumo, he’s struggling, and his leg’s fucked. I’m going to have to do a drain.”

"Have you got kit?" Harrison was struggling to get sorted. "I can scramble the heli?"

“I’ve got nothing.” Fao admitted. “Bottle of vodka and a knife. I’m going to need something.”

"I'll get everyone going." Harrison said. "Just keep him stable."

“I’ll send my location.” Fao muttered. 

"I'm just getting Steve up, we'll get the team to you, yeah? Just hold on."

“Tell Fred that reg was important, I’m sure of it.” Fao muttered. He let Harrison go to sort everything out, whilst he had to focus on Finn. There wasn’t much he could do, he knew that, but he had to try. The fact he was still unconscious was worrying, but it worked in his favour. His chest was not good at all, the blue tinge to his lips just compounding that. The side with the injury was more pressing, but he wouldn’t be surprised with the way finn was struggling if both sides were compromised in some way. 

He awkwardly opened the bottle of vodka, trying not to think about what he was doing. He doused his knife, equipment and Finn’s skin, as well as his hands, and looked for his landmarks. He really, really didn’t want to do this, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed to work quickly, in case his brother came round again, and made the cut. It was hard, his broken ribs blurring landmarks, but he got where he needed to be, making the cut deeper to get all the way through. It was hard with one fully working arm, but he had to carry on.  He had a straw, which was completely shit, but it would do the job, just until the team got there. That’s what he hoped, anyway. He hated every second of what he was doing, the smell of the vodka burning his nose, but he got it in and the blood came rushing out, soaking into his jeans. It was partially fear, partially relief that Fao felt. It was good that he was going some of the way to fixing the issue, but it was a lot of blood for Finn to be losing.

[faofinn]

Day 25 - Shaking

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

@mediwhumpmay

Soon enough, his pressure began to stabilise as the bleeding stopped, and Fao could close, though decided on putting a drain in, just to keep everything the way he wanted it. It could come out in a couple of days, once things were settled. He left Tai in the very capable hands of his girlfriend, murmured reassurance to Hars, and headed out to sort paperwork. 

It was reassuring for Fao to sit and do the paperwork, documenting everything and making sure everything was as it should be. He was just glad the case had gone well, that Tai had stabilised and was going to come out the other side. They’d agreed he’d stay in their ITU/HDU bay for a while, just to make sure he stayed stable, where they had more advanced monitoring. Ely was more than happy for that, as she began to bring him round and extubate him. He was tolerating everything well, as well as could be expected, and she fussed with pain relief and antiemetics to keep him comfortable. 

He was groggy, though had worked out Ely was fussing over him, and that he was safe. Hars was there too, the rough hand in his, the gentle brushing through his hair. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, but he'd grown bored of lying on his back, and so he shifted himself across, barely on his side, but happier than he'd been.

Ely shook her head fondly as Tai struggled onto his side, and gently tucked a pillow behind him to make him more comfortable. 

“Tai, sweetie?” She asked gently, a hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

He blinked at her, giving a quiet groan. "Shit."

“Surgery’s all done now, you did really well.” She told him. “Are you in pain?”

"Maybe?"

“Feeling sick?”

He thought about it. "Yeah."

“I’ll get you something.” She said, squeezing his shoulder. She topped up his antiemetics and pain relief, hoping to keep him comfortable, and then adjusted his blanket. 

As much as Tai (and everyone else) hoped to just fall back asleep, life wasn't fair. There was an itch to his bones he couldn’t settle with, and he kept shaking, despite his attempts to stop it.

Ely watched him carefully, sat next to his bed. She of course noticed his fidgeting, the way he couldn’t stop shaking, and draped another blanket over him, hoping that would help. 

"Ely." He whined. "Fix it."

“What’s wrong, are you cold?” She asked softly. 

"No."

“Try and take some deep breaths?” She soothed. “In and out.”

Harrison squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. "You're alright."

"I'm not." He grumbled,rubbing his face in frustration. "It's wrong."

“It’s okay.” Ely murmured. “Take a nice deep breath for me, you’re alright.”

"I can breathe." He whined. "It's just wrong."

“I know. Do you want a sip of water?”

"No, I want you to fix it." His lip wobbled. "Can Hars lie wit' me?"

Ely hummed. “So long as he’s careful.” 

"Are you sure?" Harrison asked. "I don't want to hurt you. Maybe it's best I stay here?"

"Hars."

“Go on, he’ll be asleep in a minute.” She encouraged. “Hop up behind him, move that pillow.”

"Alright, okay." He carefully shuffled Taidgh around, slipping in behind him. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, his fingers running through his hair. He was so grateful that Tai was still there, that he could hold him in his arms. Of course there was the recovery to come, they all knew that, but he was still alive. 

"Hars?"

"Mm? Thought you were gonna nap?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Tai. C'mon, try shut your eyes, get some rest. It'll help stop the shaking, make you feel better when you wake up."

Ely belongs to @epochandeons

[its-my-whump]

The Merry Whump of May - Medi Whump May – Day 25

@themerrywhumpofmay: "It takes two to tango.” - Hot coffee - doubt @mediwhumpmay: shaking

Desperation, blood, bruises helplessness

Follow-up: Days 21 - 24

With every step the darkness was fading. Tonya and the rescue team had covered more than half of the slope.

Without the flashlight she had probably missed it, but now the beam of light revealed the place where their fade took its course downwards more than half a day ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed. But maybe it actually did.

Tonya didn't know or hadn't thought about the color of dried blood before. But there it was, a rock covered in a smear of an ugly brown in the beam of the flashlight in her hand. Like someone had spilled or more smashed a bottle of syrup. Clearly the same rock which had a big responsibility in Sam losing consciousness. She hadn't seen it on her way up the evening before.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. It was still so far to where he was laying. All this distance he fell. She was desperately trying to convince herself, that he was still breathing, that he was still fighting against death, even if that fight took place right on the doorstep to the underworld. He just needed to be still alive.

But even with the sun coming up, darkness was spreading inside her soul with ever second it was getting brighter. Mesmerized she looked at that damn rock. A hand touched her shoulder. She looked like a dear in headlight, with tears in her eyes. The words just slipped out of her mouth. "It's my fault. I grabbed for his leg and pulled him down. I probably ..."

The hand on her shoulder squeezed reassuring and stopped her from phrasing the darkest fear of her own responsibility of his probable demise. "It takes two to tango." The man belonging to that hand smiled at her and went on. 'What? What the hell should that mean?' She was confused, so confused, that she actually wanted to scream at that man and demand an explanation of what the fuck that was suppose to mean.

Now she was more confused and angry, than heartbroken. She trotted on.

Finally first beams of sunlight actively reached her. Then she could hear it. Some kind of relief inflamed. Hopefully they weren't too late.

Than she could see it and imagined feeling the vibration of rotor blades cutting through the air of the canyon. Or maybe it was just her heart hammering frantically inside her chest.

The chopper circled and touched down in the near distance.

When she finally arrived at the bottom of the ravine with help from the man with the questionable approach, the two other guys from the rescue team were already by Sam's side.

Tonya caught just a glimpse of his ghostly pale skin. The shock about his appearance had pushed away every other thought or feeling. Her hands started shaking.

More people hurrying from the direction the chopper had landed. People, equipment and a backboard in screaming colors passed her.

She stumbled forward approaching his slack body. By the reaction of all of these people she just couldn't tell, if he was alive or dead. He certainly looked dead. Her heart sunk.

He was still being examined by the looks of it.

"Is he..." She couldn't end her question, even the attempt was only a slight whisper.

An oxygen mask in his face. That must mean, he was still breathing. But there was no reaction, while he was poked and rolled. All these people blocking her view, but she couldn't hear an all so tiny grunt or an agonising cry, which surely would have ripped through the air, if he had been conscious.

They connected a heart monitor, but there wasn't this constant rushing beeping sound like in the movies. The beats were there, but they were too far away from each other. The pause between them was just too long. This couldn't be right.

Someone was talking to her. She was sitting on the ground, crying and shaking. No clue, how she ended up here. 'This was her fault. This was her doing. She killed him, she most definitely killed him. Why the hell had it to be hiking. They should have gone for some fucking coffee...'

A woman was still talking to her, but everything was a blur by now.

TBC (here)