24-Feb-2001
Title: Inferno's Touch ~ Chapter 17
Author: Ravynfyre ( ravyn @ famvid.com )
Archive: GW Addiction, Darkflame
Category: Action, Humor, lil bit o Angst
Pairings: 3+4, 5+6
Standard Disclaimer: All parts of Gundam Wing are Not Mine. It's all Theirs. *sigh* Too bad, but otherwise, I guess I'd never get anything done *happy hentai thought*. Anyway, not makin' any money offa this so dun sue me. You'd only get some college debt, a few dogs, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers anyway. Ya know… blood. Turnip. Do the math.
Rating: PG-13 (mainly for language and crude sexual inuendo in spots)
Warning: umm... some brief spots of nosecola... tiny spot of angst... death of an incidental character...
Spoiler: None
Notes: The unfortunate thing about EMT/Firefighting stuff is, you can't save them all... Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you lose your patient. A few people die in this chapter... Incidental characters, however those individuals who are highly sensitive to death might be affected. Apologies in advance.
Feedback: Yes, please. All comments welcome (although flames may be fed to my dogs, who, since they have notoriously gassy intestinal tracts, will be spending the night with the flamer afterwards)
Heero instinctively shifted his weight as Trowa guided the ambulance around another corner at a high rate of speed, sirens blaring and airhorn blasting to clear the intersection. He concentrated on maintaining the steady, quick rhythm to the compressions he was administering to the patient's chest as they screamed to the hospital. In the seat to his right, Zechs was busy forcing puffs of air into the patient's chest through the intubation tube that Heero himself had placed when they'd arrived at the patient's residence and started CPR. The football shaped Ambu bag [1] clutched in Zechs' hands sucked in oxygen enriched air after every compression, while Zechs made sure to keep the tube from sliding further in or further out of the patient's throat with his free hand.
"Intersection coming up!" Trowa shouted back to Quatre and the two Engine 8 firefighters.
It was warning enough so that Heero was able to flex his knees as the ambulance hit the slight dome in the pavement of the intersection and merely bounce his skull off the cabinet across the gurney, rather than going down atop the patient as he would have if he hadn't been prepared. Even Zechs bounced in his seat, losing his grip on the Ambu bag for a moment, although he maintained his death-grip on the tube and it remained firmly in place. Quatre, for his part, didn't even bat an eye as he instinctively adjusted his positioning to keep his balance as the rig shuddered and rocked. In fact, he deftly slid an IV needle into the unresponsive patient's arm, slipped the needle out leaving the catheter behind, connected the IV bag, turned it on, and then whipped off the tourniquet before the rig had even made it all the way through the intersection. Before Heero could even look up and meet the blond paramedic's eyes, Quatre had the IV tubing taped down and secured, and was checking the drip rate on the IV bag.
Satisfied with how well the fluid was flowing into the patient, Quatre leaned over and grabbed the end of the paper strip running from the heart monitor, studying the bouncing squiggly line with a knowing eye. Apparently not satisfied with what he saw, he quickly dove into the drug box [2] at his feet, withdrew a medication, and injected it into the IV tubing right above where it entered the patient through the catheter.
"How are you doing, Heero? Getting tired?" Quatre asked calmly, watching the heart monitor for a reaction.
"Hn. Fine."
"Captain Zechs? You all right?"
"I'm fine Quatre. How's it look?" Zechs asked, nodding at the heart monitor.
"Could be better, could be worse," Quatre replied noncommittally, "One minute to the ER."
Heero nodded and returned his attention to maintaining steady, firm compressions on the chest, timing them to his own heartbeat which was thundering in his ears. Distantly, he felt another rib crack and snap; the fourth since they'd started CPR less than 15 minutes ago, but inconsequential compared to the stillness of the heart beyond them. He glanced at the monitor, satisfied by the sharp peaks and deep valleys on the rhythm strip indicating good CPR. Quatre caught his eye for a brief moment and nodded his approval before administering another dose of medication to the IV tubing.
"Driveway, coming up!" Trowa called back.
Once again, just enough warning for Heero to bounce uncomfortably along as the rig turned sharply and shuddered over the bump of the ER drive. The pounding thunder within him continued to guide his hands, keeping him focused on the still heart below his clenched fists. As the ambulance rolled to a stop and Trowa hopped out, Heero forced his heartbeat into the unresponsive man, pouring it out through his arms and hands.
The gurney shifted below him as Quatre and Trowa pulled it out of the end of the rig, pausing long enough so that Heero and Zechs could follow and then take their spots again. Zechs kept his spot at the head, preceding the gurney as Trowa turned it to head for the doors into the ER. Heero hopped onto the side, actually riding on the bar running along the side for just that purpose, his big fire boots tipped forward as he kept himself balanced as the two paramedics rolled everyone into the ER.
Dimly, around him Heero saw doctors and nurses following or preceding them, getting information from Quatre, but the Japanese firefighter paid them little attention. His whole world had narrowed down into pouring his pulse into the inert body he was almost sprawled across.
Suddenly they stopped in a treatment room, and a nurse was gently urging him down off the gurney and worming her way in to take his spot. With a shake of his head, Heero quickly disengaged and backed off out of the way. The patient vanished in the swarm of nurses and doctors, and the two firefighters were summarily ushered from the room. Quatre and Trowa appeared beside them a few moments later.
"It's in their hands now," Quatre said philosophically as he stripped off his latex gloves and deposited them in the red-bagged biohazardous waste can, "Good compressions on that CPR, Heero."
"Hn," the Japanese man grunted, pulling off his own gloves and turning to toss them in the same can Quatre had used.
As the lid dropped back down on the waste can with a dull clatter, Heero glanced up absently, scanning the hall. He felt his stomach flip in his abdomen, and a growl burble in his throat as a pair of cornflower blue eyes stared at him widely from down the hall. Relena sat in a wheelchair, clutching her flowered gown over her heart with one hand while the other held the white hospital blanket firmly over her lap. She stared at them with amazement as they sorted themselves out, and from the expression on her face, he could only assume she'd seen them come in as well. She flipped her wheat blond hair over her shoulder and met his gaze, adoration shining plainly in her expression.
"Sucks to be you," Zechs murmured into his ear from behind, "I think she likes you."
Heero ripped his gaze away from her to spin and glare at his Captain before stomping over to wash and sanitize his hands, cleaning away the scent of sweat, latex, blood and vomit.
"I'm not required to like her back," Heero hissed back, a triumphant gleam in his cobalt eyes.
Zechs smiled sagely as he moved up to the sink to wash his hands after Heero was finished.
"Neither am I," the blond replied with a wry smile of his own.
"You know, Heero," Quatre said, cocking his head slightly to one side as he considered the Japanese firefighter for a long moment, "I'd be careful if I were you. You're kinda cute when you're pissed off."
Trowa lightly cuffed his partner from behind, his emerald eyes sparkling with mirth, but his expression even.
The corner of Heero's eye twitched dangerously. Without warning, he spun on his heel, the rubber of his fire boots squeaking on the linoleum floor disco rdianately, and stomped away.
"I'll be outside waiting for Maxwell and the rig."
Quatre started giggling into the back of his hand while Trowa shook his head and sighed at his shorter partner.
"Happy now? I'm stuck with that for the rest of the day," Zechs complained.
"Yes. Quite. That was fun! She sure gets him riled up, doesn't she?" Quatre replied happily.
"If you don't behave, I'll send Dorothy some flowers and sign your name to the card," Trowa warned.
Quatre blanched to the color of fresh linen.
"You wouldn't," he whispered weakly.
"I would."
"Who's Dorothy?" Zechs asked.
Trowa indulged in a tiny smirk before turning to answer Engine 8's Captain.
"Quatre's stalker. A woman we brought in to the hospital a couple of months ago that..." Trowa coughed delicately, "Apparently took quite a shining to him."
"Yeah, well… Just remember that you live with me. If she shows up on our doorstep, you have to put up with her too!"
"I can always go stay with Cathy," Trowa replied smugly.
"I hate you," his partner whimpered.
"I doubt that," both Zechs and Trowa replied in unison before striding away in Heero's wake.
A tiny blot of pavement darkened with the bead of sweat that tumbled from Heero's brow. Absently, he ran one hand up through his bangs, brushing the messy brown hair out of his eyes for a moment, not even caring that it did no good. He concentrated on the evaporating spot of moisture on the concrete, watching it shrink into nothing, fading away in the late morning air. Shifting slightly on the curb, he leaned a little bit further over his knees as he sat waiting for Duo to arrive with Engine 8. The scent of car exhaust ticked his nose as people drove slowly past, some dropping off patients, others picking people up. Around him, the whole world continued on, oblivious to the confusion and deep sullen anger burning within his chest.
Just the sight of that worshipful stare had kindled the quiet anger within him, and Quatre's teasing has only stoked the flames. He let his breath out in a massive sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat as his hands slipped to dangle between his legs. The pavement felt rough under his fingertips, distracting him from discomforting thoughts of infatuated spoiled rich girls.
The scuffed yellow toes of another pair of fire boots entered his field of vision, turning as a figure dropped to a boneless sprawl on the curb beside him. All thoughts of the strange blue-eyed girl still waiting in the ER fled him, and the world seemed to settle into focus again.
"Where's the rig?" he asked quietly, still staring down at his fingertips wandering over the concrete between his feet.
"Parked it down the block. Zechs still inside?" Duo replied, reclining back to lean on his elbows.
"Hn," Heero grunted in agreement.
"How's the guy?"
Heero looked up, straightening to stretch his shoulders with an audible snap or two.
"With the doctors. Haven't heard anything yet. Didn't look good though."
"Too bad. He had a nice family," Duo observed, tipping his head back to stare up into the sky for a moment, "Hey cool. There's an elephant in that cloud."
Heero cocked up one eyebrow before shaking his head and glancing around for Engine 8. He frowned as he spotted the firetruck half a block away, a strange man dressed in blue jeans and a black jacket leaning on the front bumper. Heero's brow furrowed as the man lowered his mirrored sunglasses with a single gloved finger, meeting the Japanese man's cobalt stare with an intense brown glare of his own. Seemingly from thin air, the man produced a single flower, a bright orange tiger lily, and set it upon the front bumper of the rig. He smiled darkly as he reached into his jacket and withdrew a black baseball cap, rolling the bill slightly before putting it on. Even from the distance, Heero still made out the gold lion's head insignia emblazoned on the front of the cap. Heero felt his hands tighten into fists and his whole body stiffen as he fought the urge to leap to his feet and run the Oz assassin down.
"Look! A puppy!" Duo laughed, pointing into the sky excitedly.
Heero's gaze darted over to the braided driver for a split second, distracted by the exuberance of the exclamation. As his cobalt glare swept back over the rig and the rest of the block, he felt a growl bubble up from his throat.
The assassin was gone.
"Well, you boys ready to head home?" Zechs asked, materializing beside them both.
Heero throttled back his instinctive fight or flight response as his Captain startled him, covering it by rolling to his feet.
"Sounds good to me. It's getting close to lunch time and I'm getting hungry," Duo replied, bouncing up to follow as Heero stalked off towards the engine.
"Duo, when aren't you hungry?" Quatre asked.
"Ummm…."
"Point. Set. Match," Trowa observed wryly.
Duo thumbed his nose at them both and then bounced ahead, skipping the last few steps to Engine 8 and beating Heero there by a second. He paused as he noticed the flower sitting on the bumper, snatching it up and examining it curiously before Heero could stop him.
"Cool. Someone left us a thank you," Duo said with a grin and he displayed it to everyone with a flourish.
"Pretty!" Quatre said, admiring the fresh bloom.
"Yeah. I love these things. I have a bunch of lilies just like this in my front yard."
Heero's blood ran to ice as the words left Duo's mouth.
Before he could respond, their radios all squawked, the dispatcher's voice cutting off all other trains of thoughts as Engine 8 received its third call of the day.
"Man! What a day so far!" Duo exclaimed, throwing himself down into the blue recliner with a crash, "Hey, Heero, toss me a soda, will ya? I'm dyin' to get something in my stomach before it devours my spine."
Heero quirked up an eyebrow as Duo's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly enough to be heard across the kitchen where the other firefighter was rummaging through the fridge for a quick sandwich. A green and silver can of Mountain Dew arched gracefully through the air, unerringly headed for the braided driver. The thought of a caffeinated Duo was unsettling to say the least, however, Heero suspected that the braided man would need the boost if their pace remained as busy as it had been so far that day. It was 3 PM already, and this was the first time they'd actually made it back to the firehouse since the hotel fire first thing that morning.
Zechs ghosted up behind him and reached over his shoulder for a soda of his own before returning to the table and dropping into one of the chairs there.
"Looks like today was our day," the Captain observed dryly as he popped open the can and drained half of it in a single long draught.
"Well, I know this stuff goes in cycles, and it comes and it goes… but Man! It's been coming in force today! How many calls so far? Six?"
"Seven," Heero corrected absently, backing out of the fridge with an orange and a pint of milk.
"All we need now is another fi-," Duo sighed, shaking his head.
"Don't even say it, Duo!" Zechs interrupted, "If you jinx us, I swear I-"
He was interrupted when the speaker popped loudly.
"Shit."
"Yeah, thanks Duo."
"General Alarm, report of a structure fire…"
Duo grinned as he bounced to his feet, "We may get out of this yet… Might not be in our section…"
"… Section 7 b. General alarm, report of…"
Zechs turned and tossed his driver a sardonic look, while Heero paused long enough to slam back the milk he'd gotten out.
"You were saying, Duo? If I remember correctly, we're third in on that," the Captain observed, already sprinting for the bay.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah… So suddenly it's all *my* fault."
"Talk less, move more," Heero called, having already passed Duo by the map on his way to jump into his bunkers.
"Fine then, you're navigating, fire boy," Duo taunted back, having found his directions from the map before he followed them into the bay.
"Left off the ramp, south eight blocks, turn right, west five blocks, turn left, south another seven blocks, turn left. On that block," Heero said as he fastened his bunker coat closed and jumped up into the rig.
"Blow me, Yuy," Duo snapped, shrugging on his own coat and hopping up into the driver's seat.
"Name the time and place, Maxwell," Heero mocked back as the rig rumbled to life and then rolled out the door.
Zechs had to curb his impulse to laugh as Duo choked for a moment in surprise, before muttering softly enough that Zechs was sure Heero would have missed it, "Yeah. Right. Like I could *be* that lucky."
"To your left, Heero!" Zechs called over the muffle of his mask and the hiss of the water.
Heero nodded and turned, opening the nozzle of the hose in his hands to catch the patch of flames climbing up the wall beside him. Satisfied that they were no longer a threat, he turned back to the front and continued raining the narrow angle fog pattern onto the glowing red remains of the trailer floor. As he shifted his weight forward a little to get a better angle on his target, he felt the part of the floor he was standing on bounce ominously. It was getting very spongy, and not as firm as he'd like. Just as he was turning his head to warn his Captain, the heel of his boot broke through the thin plywood and carpet. The weakened floor couldn't hold him up as he shifted position to avoid falling.
Zechs turned to check on Heero just in time to see the Japanese firefighter flail slightly backwards before dropping through a new hole in the floor like a ton of bricks. The hose bucked and whipped around wildly as Heero vanished from sight, having lost control of the nozzle when he pitched backwards. Zechs spared part of his attention for the radio, barking out calm orders for everyone to evacuate the trailer since it had lost too much structural integrity. Part of his attention remained on the hole where Heero had vanished, watching for a flare up of fire or perhaps part of his firefighter to reappear. The rest of his attention was on the hose, diving for it to both get some more water on the fire across the room, and to control what had suddenly become a potentially deadly weapon.
His fingers wrapped around the canvas-jacketed hose, pulling it tight up against his body while he slowly backed towards the door again. By the time he cleared the doorframe and retreated to the tiny porch of the trailer, he had the nozzle under control, and firm footing once more guaranteed.
Another firefighter appeared beside him, taking the hose from his hands to redirect the stream of water to a sudden flare up at the other end of the structure. Zechs passed it off gratefully, hopping down off the porch to jog to a spot about halfway down the length of the trailer where Duo was busy yanking off the plastic and aluminum skirting. He knelt down and joined his driver, pulling the panels off and tossing them into the growing pile of debris in the middle of the yard. When they had about a six foot length removed, a gloved hand ghosted out of the darkness of the crawl space under the trailer.
Zechs and Duo both reached down, seizing on to Heero's hand and hauling backwards, pulling the fallen firefighter out from under the trailer with a massive heave. Heero tumbled to a sodden pile at their knees, flailing slightly to get his bearings back. Behind them, the Battalion Chief suddenly started laughing. It started out as a small chuckle, almost inaudible over the crackle and rush of the fire, but quickly grew into a loud guffaw, joined by the Safety Officer, and the Captain of Engine 7, who'd been talking to the Battalion Chief. Zechs shook his head as Duo's voice joined the racket, the braided driver rocking back on his haunches and snickering with one finger pointing down at Heero, who was still sprawled on the muddy ground in front of them.
Zechs peered down, pausing long enough to lift his helmet enough to yank off his fogged up SCBA mask. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from joining in.
Heero was only then picking himself up off the ground, gloves scrubbing futilely to rid his fogged mask of its thick layer of clinging reddish mud. Almost every inch of him, from the top of his bright yellow helmet, to the tips of his black rubber fire boots, was covered in a blanket of rust colored wet soil. His gloved were so encrusted, that they looked like nothing more than soggy boxing gloves, all bulky and blocky with no fingers.
It was obvious from the way he was moving that he was unhurt, save for perhaps his pride, despite the unexpected trip through the floor to the crawl space under the structure.
"Heero, man…" Duo gasped between chuckles, "You may… ya know… wanna spray off your gear… before we head back. You're filthy, man…"
With a savage jerk, Heero shook most of the mud from his gloves, and then reached up to tip his helmet back and yank off his mask so he could see. The glare he graced Duo with would have frozen Hades in August, although, Duo was so busy laughing at the plops of mud dripping from the brim of Heero's helmet, that he didn't even notice.
"Blow me, Maxwell."
Duo snickered, turning to return to his abandoned rig and the unattended pump panel there.
"Name the time and place, Yuy," he taunted back, parroting Heero's earlier joke.
Heero's whole body slumped slightly as he glanced down at himself and then back up at Duo's retreating form.
"I should be so lucky…" Zechs heard Heero mutter.
That was the last straw. He burst into laughter as he turned and walked away, shaking his head.
Heero watched his Captain retreat for a moment before his face flushed beet red and a harsh curse exploded from his lips. He turned on a heel and stomped away, determined to take out his frustrations on what was left of the fire.
"Quatre! I see you're on duty today," Dr. Browning called as he turned a corner in the ER and saw the blond paramedic carefully wiping down Medic 6's gurney.
"Dr. Browning! Yes! It's been a busy day already. Trowa's just resupplying the ambulance now. When I get done here, we're going to run up to the maternity ward and check on Sara Kate."
"Sara Kate? She's the little girl they C-sectioned after her mother was in that awful wreck some time ago, isn't she?"
"Yes. The one where her father intentionally tried to kill them all. He died here at the hospital, didn't he?" Quatre asked, spreading fresh sheets over the gurney and folding the safety buckles across the top.
"In the fire, yes. The arson investigator said it was murder," Dr. Browning replied, shaking his head as he watched Quatre deftly prep the gurney for its next run.
"That's terrible!"
"Yes, indeed… Ah, there you are Trowa! It's been a while, lad."
"Dr. Browning," the taller paramedic greeted politely as he walked up behind Quatre with a small pink teddy bear in his hand.
"Ready?" Quatre asked, smiling as he caught sight of the toy.
Trowa nodded in reply and then handed Quatre the bear to hold while he took the gurney back out to Medic 6 quickly.
"Well, it was good to see you, young man. Give Sara Kate a squeeze for me when you go see her, okay? And don't forget to eat some lunch today. You look like you've been running all morning and afternoon already!" Dr. Brown admonished.
"We have," Quatre replied with a cheerful chuckle, "We will. I promise. Hopefully we'll have a quiet night and we won't see you again today, sir. I' d better go catch up to Trowa before he heads up without me."
"Very good. All right then. Have a good day, Quatre. And get some sleep tonight!"
"We'll try!" Quatre called, turning to wave as he jogged off towards the elevators.
Trowa was waiting for him by the time he got there, leaning casually against the wall with a pleasantly neutral expression hiding behind his shock of auburn hair. The elevator door dinged and whooshed open as Quatre stepped up, and the two paramedics hopped into the car and rode it to the floor with the maternity ward.
"Gift shop?" Quatre asked, holding out the bear.
"Had it in the rig for a week now. Just haven't had a chance to stop by," Trowa replied, shifting to lean slightly against his partner.
As the door dinged and whooshed open again, the faint scent of powder, lotion, and the unmistakable odor of neonates wafted into the car. Quatre bounced through the doors with a cheerful smile, unerringly navigating the hallways to the maternity nurses' station. He smiled politely to the familiar nurse working behind the counter, while Trowa followed in his wake.
"Hello, Jenn. How are you today?" he asked her.
The blond nurse glanced up at him from her paperwork with red-rimmed eyes and a hitch in her voice.
"Oh, Quatre… I'm so sorry…" she sniffled, shaking her head sadly, "Sara Kate passed away this morning."
The blond paramedic's smile faltered, and then died on his lips. He looked down at his toes as tears sprang to his eyes. Trowa dropped a comforting hand on Quatre's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"I'm sorry, Jenn," Quatre said, looking back up, unashamed of the moisture leaking down his cheeks, "I know how much you were all pulling for her."
The nurse grabbed up a kleenex and blew her nose noisily.
"She was just too young, Quatre," Jenn said sadly.
Quatre nodded before he set the small stuffed bear on the counter and then turned away, heading back for the elevator.
"They usually are," he observed quietly before leaving the maternity ward behind.
"Now, this time, Duo, keep your mouth shut about needing any more calls," Zechs ordered as Duo backed Engine 8 back into the bay.
"Yessir," Duo replied, feigning sheepish agreement as he shifted the rig into neutral, set the parking brake, and then hit the engine kill switch.
Heero walked through the bay door and scowled up at the braided driver as he hopped down from the seat.
"Don't jinx us, Maxwell," Heero warned as his soggy bunker pants dripped on the bay floor.
"Man! Getting it from both sides here!" Duo exclaimed, shaking his head as he plugged the rig into the battery charger.
"How… kinky," Zechs observed dryly from the other side of the engine where he was shucking out of his own soggy gear.
Heero jerked, a sound suspiciously like a choked laugh coming from his general vicinity as he peeled his gear from his damp uniform.
"Something to add there, Heero?" Duo asked, his voice dripping with honeyed venom.
"Nothing at all, Maxwell… Nothing at-"
"Aid call for Engine 8," the speaker in the bay squawked loudly, interrupting the banter.
"FUCK! I'm HUNGRY! I'm NEVER gonna get lunch at this rate!" Duo wailed, pulling his bunkers back up and slipping the suspenders back on his shoulders.
"Dinner," Heero corrected absently as he listened for the details.
"Engine 8 respond to Evergreen Plaza Apartments, 2301 South Tiberion Street, for a possible drowning."
Three doors slammed shut in unison as Engine 8 roared to life again. The lights flipped on, the siren wailed, and Engine 8 erupted from the station like a charging bull.
Even before the truck had rolled to a stop, Heero had his door flung open and was hopping out, the medical bag in one hand, and a backboard gripped tightly in the other. He was swarmed immediately by a dozen panicking adults and children, all pointing off towards the back of the building there the pool was, and every one of them screaming to be heard over the others. He pushed past the mob, ignoring everything but their pointing fingers for the moment, while Duo hopped out behind him and dashed to a compartment to grab a bag of utility rope. With a shrill whistle, Zechs grabbed all the bystanders' attention, clearing the way a little for Heero and Duo to dash off to the pool.
As soon as they entered the fenced enclosure, Heero could see the blurry form of a human body at the bottom of the pool. He dropped the medical bag and the backboard, shucking out of his soaked bunkers as he stumbled forward. Duo pressed the end of the rope from the bag he was holding into Heero's outstretched hand. With a graceful arch, Heero dove into the pool, his socked feet kicking him unerringly towards the bottom and the waiting victim.
The chlorinated water burned his eyes and blurred his vision as his seeking hands finally made contact with the fully clothed man lying on the concrete bottom of the pool. He paused long enough to wrap the rope around the body and tie it off quickly before kicking to the surface, following the rope back up. As he came up, Duo started hauling on the rope, Heero helping until the body floated up where Heero could get a grip on him again.
Trowa and Quatre materialized beside Duo, kneeling down to help Heero heave the cold form out of the water and onto the deck surrounding the pool. As soon as the victim left his hands, Heero hauled himself out of the water, not even pausing to shake the excess off as he stepped over to help the paramedics and Duo.
The unresponsive man was quickly rolled onto the backboard Heero had brought, and just as quickly the backboard was lifted onto the gurney waiting nearby. Buckles and straps were efficiently applied, securing the patient for transport, and then Trowa and Quatre were quickly wheeling the gurney to the waiting ambulance.
"Duo, Heero, come with us. We'll need you for the ride in," Trowa said.
Zechs appeared beside the back of the ambulance, pulling the doors open just as the two paramedics and two firefighters arrived.
"I'll take the rig. Meet you at the hospital," Zechs said, nodding at Heero and Duo to hop up into the loaded ambulance.
"Got it. See ya in a few," Duo replied.
Heero nodded as he hopped up into the ambulance and the doors slammed shut behind him.
"Nice socks," Duo snickered as they waited in the hallway outside the ER room where they'd just dropped off their patient.
Heero frowned and glanced down, only then realizing that since he'd hopped out of his bunker pants and fire boots back at the pool, he was in his stocking feet. His very wet stocking feet. It matched the rest of his very wet, and still dripping, uniform. He sighed tiredly and refused to rise to the bait.
"Hey… look at it this way. At least She isn't down here any more," Duo said, slapping Heero on the back with one hand as he motioned around the hall with his other.
The sigh Heero heaved then was one of almost comic relief.
"Come on. Let's go wait for Zechs outside. You're dripping all over the nice ER people's floor," Duo said, snickering again.
"Don't make me hurt you, Duo," Heero grunted dangerously as he trudged off carefully behind the bouncing driver.
"Promises, promises!" Duo sang cheerfully over his shoulder.
"That's it. You can starve tonight," Heero retorted, passing through the automatic doors into the early evening air outside.
"Ouch! Cruel, man. Totally cruel!"
Heero snorted in answer, moving up to stand beside Duo on the curb. By unspoken accord, they both settled to a seat on the edge of the sidewalk, watching the cars drifts slowly past in companionable silence.
"Zechs musta got caught in traffic," Duo mused several minutes later, "Figured he wouldda been here by now."
"Hn. Maybe he decided to drive like a sane human being," Heero replied wryly, the unspoken implication hanging quite obviously between them.
"Ouch! Nailed me again. Man, you're just full of ‘em today, aren't ya? What' s gotten into you lately?" the braided driver asked with a grin.
"You were the one bitching about me being cold," Heero shot back.
One chestnut eyebrow quirked up in amusement.
"True. Just never seen the ole Maxwell Charm work quite so quickly or effectively before."
Heero snorted again, "More like the Maxwell Cancer."
"Hey, whatever works," Duo agreed cheerfully, "I told you I like a challenge."
Heero simply shook his head before lapsing back into silence again. Grinning like a fiend, Duo leaned back on his elbows and stared at the rose colored sky.
"Hm… Hot fudge sundae," he murmured after a moment.
"Huh?"
"There," Duo said, pointing up at a fluffy, lopsided cloud, "It looks like a hot fudge sundae. And that one there looks like a slab of bar-b-que ribs. And those airplane trails look like pixie sticks."
Heero frowned, following Duo's direction to peer up at the clouds, faintly edged in crimson from the sun settling towards the horizon.
"This morning it was animals… Now it's food," Heero said.
"Hey, I'm a hungry boy," Duo replied defensively, "I missed my morning and afternoon snacks, not to mention lunch!"
"Hn."
Before Duo could fire off a retort to Heero's non-reactive grunt, the familiar bulk of Engine 8 turned the corner down the street and rolled to a careful stop at the curb in front of them.
"You boys need a ride?" Zechs called dryly.
Duo bounced to his feet, grabbing the shoulder of Heero's shirt and dragging him up too.
"Hot damn! Can we go eat now?! Before another catastrophe hits and leaves me nothing more than a withered little skeleton?" Duo whined, opening the door and hopping up into the Captain's seat since Zechs was driving.
Heero snorted as he carefully climbed into the seat behind Duo, glancing over to the other seat and nodding satisfactorily as he spotted his bunker pants and fire boots.
"I figured you'd be whining about that by now. Here," Zechs said, tossing a white cardboard box and a pair of chopsticks at Duo. Another carton arched over the engine mount towards Heero, followed by a second set of chopsticks. "I hit the Chinese place on the way over here. And Engines 7, 9, and 12 are covering our district until we can get back to the station and Heero can change into a clean, dry uniform."
"That's why they pay you the big bucks. Oh yeah! General Tsao's Chicken!" Duo crowed happily as he tore into the box and started quickly devouring the contents, "Remind me to call all those guys up and thank em for this."
Zechs shook his head and laughed as he pulled the rig back onto the street and pointed it towards Station 8.
"Don't thank them just yet. I had to trade 12's next alarm for this break."
"Good thing 12's usually so dead after dark," Duo replied around a mouthful of chicken.
"Well, they would have been until you said something, Maxwell. Haven't you learned your lesson yet tonight?" Heero sighed.
"Man! Why is it all my fault all'a the sudden?"
"Must be that ‘ole Maxwell Charm'," Heero retorted as he popped open his carton of Shrimp in Garlic Sauce.
"Blow me, Yuy."
Heero snapped his mouth closed on his retort when Zechs snorted with amusement. Feeling the faint flush creep across his cheeks at his earlier slip at the fire, Heero returned his attention to his dinner, and the rest of the trip back to Station 8 was accomplished in silence.
~TBC~
[1] Ambu bag - football shaped appliance used to help or make a person breathe. One end is connected either to a tube that's stuck down the throat, or a mask that fits tightly over the face, the other end is a bellows valve. You squeeze the bag, air is forced through the tube or mask into the lungs. Let the bag reinflate through the valve, and then squeeze again.
[2] Drug Box - Think big plastic tackle box... only, instead of fishing tackle, it's filled with all sorts of fun drug type things that medics can use on people... Morphine is your friend... *snicker* Seriously, since most of the drugs Paramedics carry are regulated substances, all the drugs have to be stored in a hard sided (read heavy plastic or metal) container capable of being locked. There is a numbered seal placed on the box after each time it is opened, and all drugs must be accounted for after every call.
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