☤ nineteen

[as_damaged]

[Accidental Video;]

[The view is wavering and poorly focused, the camera on her PDA just barely poking out from a pocket as Cameron walks down a clinic hallway. The lights are dimmed, the exam rooms on either side dark.]

Chase? [She's not bothering to hide the frustration in her tone. She's only here because he isn't answering his phone, even though he paged her. Even though she suspects it's likely some misguided game, the slim chance that it's an actual emergency is enough to lure her down to otherwise closed clinic.]


Here. [The answering voice, and the hope in it, is weak but audible. On the floor of one of the exam rooms, Chase has managed to elevate his leg with the help of a chair. The amount of blood soaking through his pants and pooling on the floor suggests this is a recent development.] C-Cameron? In here.


What is-- [The question dies with a gasp as she marches in upon the scene, shocked into a moment's pause before training, habit, takes over. The view shakes as she rushes to grab something off a countertop-- a bundle of gauze, something clean to apply pressure-- and kneels next to him, heedless of the mess.] What happened?


[He's been applying pressure himself, tie pulled off to make a crude tourniquet. A last resort move, but it's obvious he wouldn't have gotten far in this state. Shaky and sweating, pale as a ghost, he lets himself fall back as she takes over.]

Came off my bike when I was s-six. Severed... popliteal. [He twitches, swallowing hard to force his jaw into unclenching.] Would have called House. Didn't... think I had... time.


It just... opened up? [She doesn't look up at him, fingers shifting over his leg, trying to get a sense of the damage, pressing the gauze on top of his soaked trouser leg, unwilling to risk pulling or cutting it away, lest it make the damage worse. She presses as hard as she can, trying to keep the artery against the bone, above where she judges the break to be.]


It was Eden. For God's sake, Cameron. [He doesn't have much of a voice left, and still less colour in his face, words hissed through teeth that won't ungrit.] ...Help.


[Cameron doesn't reply, bending to peek between her fingers to see how much blood has seeped through. Too much. One hand still curled firmly around his leg to keep pressure, she reaches up to press her fingers against his wrist, feeling for his pulse.]

I'm calling the ER. [The camera view jostles as she shifts back, obscured by the shadow of her hand as Cameron reaches for the pocket it's sticking out of.] I can't staunch the bleeding, and you're hypovolemic. You need a transfusion, and I can't move you mys--

[The transmission cuts off midsentence as Cameron turns off the device, never noticing it was recording.]




[ooc; speech color = Chase, Cameron. all network replies will come after Chase is out of her hands and in more stable condition. ♥ ♥ ♥]

Comments

1/2

[haroicsacrifice.livejournal.com]

--again?!

[haroicsacrifice.livejournal.com]

Does he know where she is now?

1/2

[as_damaged]

She wasn't there when I found him.

[as_damaged]

He's lost a lot of blood, he hasn't said anything about where she went.

[anycuntcould.livejournal.com]

Of course the bint wasn't joking.

[as_damaged]

She threatened you?

[anycuntcould.livejournal.com]

Tried to pique me interest's more like it. How's your chap?

[captainshort.livejournal.com]

Is he alright?

[as_damaged]

Weak, still, but stable.

[captainshort.livejournal.com]

Good. Damn it. This makes it... what, six? More?

audio;

[justdoingmyjob.livejournal.com]

...I assume you took care of things, so I'll skip to the next questions:

How is he and how are you?

'Are you alright' always sounds so---

audio;

[as_damaged]

I'm fine. He's stable. Not in good shape by any stretch, but stable.

audio;

[justdoingmyjob.livejournal.com]

Stable is good, in a way.

[ pause ]

Isn't Eden the Irish girl who also works for your boss?

hi. somebody doesn't do well with emergencies.

[thenormalsquint]

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

oh dear. well, cam is pretty good with emergencies. and freaked-out people. even when bitter. <33

[as_damaged]

It's all right. He's going to be all right.

[don't go out tonight, 'cause it's bound to take your life]

[worksmart.livejournal.com]

The beeping of the cardiac monitor is the first thing to break through to him, just a persistent nudging in a tender spot of his brain. Not for the first time he wonders how anyone stuck in these places sleeps through the humming, whirring, intrusive sounds of the machines entrusted to their care. He stretches, feet pushing against the resistance of tight hospital corners in crisp cotton sheets. Why is he in--

Ugh. The thought is lost as consciousness spreads out a little further, and the dryness of his mouth implies he might have been chewing on those same cotton sheets. He coughs, recognising the feeling, how thick his tongue seems in his mouth, and his first full thought is shit, what the hell did I eat?

He can't remember, doesn't want to think about food at all with sudden nausea balling heavily in the pit of his stomach, that gentle nudging in head mind forming the beginnings of a pounding headache. There's just the vague sinking feeling that he's going to catch hell for this, somehow, and that he's going to have to start remembering something if he'd like any hope of talking his way out of it. Where was he? Where was he?

Heaving himself to the side of the bed, he coughs the catarrh clear of his throat and groans, opening his eyes just enough to be half blinded by white hospital light. "Dad?"

[don't go out tonight, 'cause it's bound to take your life]

[as_damaged]

"Not today." Though there's a trace of sarcasm, Cameron's tone is gentle; a far cry from her earlier greeting. If he remembers it; disoriented and deep in shock as he was. Rising, she leans her forearms lightly on the side of the bed for a moment, scanning readouts and monitors, a better gauge of his condition than asking him how he feels.

She does bend to check his pupils, once the blind blinking passes-- all business with pursed lips and a faintly creased brow, as though there was nothing between them. Neither fondness nor anger; though she softens a little as she straightens, offering a little smile of reassurance.

"Do you remember what happened?"

voice;

[adamantined]

Do you need help? I can -

Is he okay?

voice;

[as_damaged]

It's under control. He's stable.

audio;

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

How is he and how are you?

audio;

[as_damaged]

He's all right, or will be, at least. The bleeding's fixed and the transfusion's mostly taken care of the shock, though he'll be weak for a while.

I'm fine. A little tired, now that the crisis is over, but I can't complain about that.

dsjfhlsj sorry, tagged you with my personal account

[fatespoken]

Eden, why-

...Hey, is he doing okay?

noooooo worries!

[as_damaged]

He's still weak, still a little out of it, but he'll be all right.

voice;

[vicodincrutch.livejournal.com]

Less talk, more action.

What's his current status?

voice;

[as_damaged]

Stable, if a little weak. There doesn't seem to be any permanent damage, from the bleed or the hypervolemia. With a few days' rest he should be fine.


[ooc; /LOVES ON no worries i am forever available to tag back late <3<3<3]