Author: Cheerfulbunny PM
After a series of violent events, Derek is forced into a unique coma - one never seen before. His survival depends on how far his friends are willing to go for him - and his own strength. His fate rests in the hands of the person he loves. So what happens when that person can not find the strength to go on? And what happens when Derek chooses to let go of the thing he values most?Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Derek S. & Angie T. - Chapters: 3 - Words: 3,967 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 10-08-12 - Published: 08-14-12 - id: 8430807
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
We start with Derek in his little dream world, and continue on to Tyler and Leslie. From there...well, I guess we find out.
Derek's dream world is in itallics.
TEL sounded right, I honestly couldn't think of another combo, and I had to make it three letters. My mind was screaming at me to do it.
Derek woke up with a start.
He immediately noticed that the haze was back over his mind again, and he struggled to clear it.
"Don't start, Derek, you have a lot more to do."
He turned around, recognizing the voice. TEL.
She pointed at a operating table, currently occupied by a patient.
He felt the weight of the scrubs that suddenly materialized on him, and felt the cold presence of a scalpel in his hand.
Needing no further instruction, he walked over to the patient, gasping in shock and recognition.
It was himself.
Driving home from their date, somewhat tipsy but coherent, Tyler and Leslie were driving home, laughing at some half-funny joke that Tyler had made.
Tyler, driving, had been the first one to note the body lying on the side of the road.
"The person's probably dead already." He mused to himself.
They would have driven right by the body if not for two things. One, Leslie recognized the body, and two, the "corpse" moved.
"Tyler! Stop! It's Derek!" Leslie screamed.
Adrenaline pumping throughout both their bodies and clearing their minds of the alcohol, leaving them painfully aware of the situation.
Tyler ran to the trunk to grab an emergency field kit while Leslie ran to check the vitals of their friend.
"He's alive…but he doesn't have a heartbeat!"
Tyler ran with the kit in hand.
Without needing to be told, he cracked open the kit and took out a syringe. Filling it with a needleful of stabilizer, he injected Derek with the green substance. Leslie snapped on a pair of latex gloves and affixed a surgical mask onto her face. With Tyler juggling stabilizer injections and getting fit for an emergency operation, she took out a pair of forceps and began to remove shards of glass from Derek's chest.
With the shards out of the way, she turned to Tyler, her face pale.
"What do we do? We can't do CPR, we might push his broken ribs into his organs!"
"We need to massage his heart." He said matter-of-factly, taking out a scalpel.
"Here?!" Leslie screeched. "It's ridiculously unsanitary here!"
Tyler spread antibiotic gel over Derek's chest. "We have no other choice."
And with that, Tyler cut into his best friend's chest. hoping it was the right thing to do.
Blood gushed out, and Leslie went to work with the drain, removing the blood. Tyler reached his hand into Derek's chest, squeezing his heart in an attempt to restart it.
Leslie made a set of sutures over the first lacerations. She attached a portable vitals monitor, revealing the vitals to be at a low 23 and dropping. There was no heartbeat except for Tyler's artificial pumping. She inserted a chest tube, and blood spilled onto the dirt besides them.
She pumped in two sets of stabilizer while Tyler continued to massage his heart, and acting on a whim, spread gel into Derek's chest. The gel had the welcome effect of raising vitals, clearing some of the blood, and revealing the 2-inch gash over Derek's lung. She pinched the wound shut, and was about to suture it when everything went to hell.
Seven lacerations formed on Derek's lung, and blood burst out of them, dropping the vitals to 12. Leslie rushed to inject more stabilizer, and Tyler continued to massage Derek's heart.
Leslie somehow managed to insert a ambu bag, and Tyler compressed the bag. Air rushed into Derek's lungs. Leslie took over the heart massage and compressions, and Tyler went to work, stitching the lacerations shut, and taking out fragments of bone and glass.
The pairing were about to lose their patient, however. One doctor wouldn't be able to treat everything on his own. Fortunately for them, another doctor was on the scene.
Getting over the shock, Derek noticed that the vitals of the patient (He refused to think "himself") were wildly fluctuating up and down. He decided to raise the vitals, and had turned to pick up a syringe, when TEL suddenly appeared, syringe in hand, and already filled with stabilizer. She handed it to him.
Derek couldn't help but think that this was deja vu in some weird, twisted way.
"Oh, TEL, could you change out of that body?" He spoke as he injected the stabilizer.
"You mean change my appearance?" TEL frowned. "Was there something wrong with the memory of the host that she was using? I should look like Angie." She thought to herself.
Naturally she could change her appearance, but she chose not to.
"Sorry, Derek, I can't."
Derek muttered something to himself. "Oh, okay."
Derek noticed that the patient was already opened up, and that there was a hand-shaped shadow over the heart, and another shadow over the left lung. A similar shadow was over the mouth. Derek gasped when he realized that there were actually two shadows hovering over his left lung, and that the handprints over his heart and mouth were squeezing.
"Son of a - Is this a mutated form of Aletheia?" He spoke rapidly to TEL.
"No, it's your best friends Tyler and Leslie, trying to save your life." TEL said.
"W-Wait you're serious?!" Derek gasped, startled.
"Yep. Hurry up, your patient is dying!"
Derek cursed, and injected some more stabilizer.
"What do I do about those shadows then?" Derek asked.
"Simple, don't touch them, or vitals are going to drop." She replied.
"Why…?" Derek wondered, as he injected more stabilizer.
"Derek," TEL explained patronizingly, "If someone hit your hand as you were massaging a patient's heart, do you think that would interrupt your surgery just a little bit?"
Derek ignored her tone, and instead concentrating on not hitting dark grey silhouettes while he attempted to suture random gashes on his - the patient's lung.
Realizing that he wasn't able to do much with the hands in the way, Derek had just about decided to fix the patient's pelvis instead when vitals crashed.
"Damn...I have a lot of work to do."
Tyler was almost done treating Derek's chest when his vitals crashed, lower than they already were.
The good news? Derek's heart restarted.
The bad news: Derek's pericardium split, revealing the blood inside. His heart beat erratically once, fluttered, and then stopped, effectively negating the good news.
Vitals plummeted down from 44 to 7.
"Shit, Cardiac Tamponade!" Tyler cried.
"Son of a - Don't you dare die on me, Derek!"
Tyler visualized a star, and everything slowed down.
Tyler didn't have any control of his hands, but he knew what was going to happen.
Picking up a drain, he removed the blood, and sutured up the pericardium, which somehow restarted his heart. He had quite a bit of time left, so he finished treating Derek's chest and sutured him up.
The color returned to his vision, and Leslie gaped at him.
"T-Tyler?! W-What in the world…?"
He had already passed out on the floor.
Derek was gasping from the exertion of using the Healing Touch. It had seemed more taxing than usual.
TEL smiled. "Very well done, Derek."
He glanced at her. "Will the patient be alright?"
TEL flicked her wrist, and the OR melted away, revealing the strange black room with the glass floor.
"Yes, he will be." She said. "And congratulations, you have passed your first challenge."
The darkness melted away, revealing that he was in a rather dull room.
The walls were painted snow white, as was the ceiling. Examining the roof closely, he saw that there wasn't a single crack or chip in it.
The floor suddenly shifted, and turned solid white.
Several machines appeared next to the red lever.
Derek walked over to them.
A high-tech automated GCS monitor, hovering at about 6. An EKG. Vitals monitor, showing his vitals steady at about 40.
Derek coughed suddenly, and blood sprayed out. He collapsed, unconscious to the world.
TEL took a sleek black phone out of her pocket and frowned. "Already? Shouldn't he have time to rest?"
She winced as inappropriate words filtered in through her eardrum.
"Alright, fine, fine. Okay. I'll be right there. Bye."
TEL dissipated, leaving Derek alone in the dark.
Angie perked up as she heard ambulance alarms coming closer. Many of them.
She ran down to the ambulance dock, ready to take in information.
"32 year old John Doe, vitals critical, multiple lacerations to chest and internal bleeding." A paramedic continued to do chest compressions as the man was wheeled by on a gurney.
Angie stared down in shock at the ravaged body.
"What the hell happened to him?"
"Head on crash. The other guy won."
Angie shook her head, and followed after her patient, taking his chart from an intern who stood bewildered.
"C'mon kid, move it!"
The other occupants of the crash were nowhere to be found, all three of them dying…
Guess who those three are.
And to answer the first review I got, they aren't exactly drunk, just...slightly intoxicated. Not enough to interfere with judgement and coordination.