Saving Tony (Tony Stark x Reader)

Chapter 10 - Code Orange

It took you several years to learn that there is no more contagious disease than panic.

And there had been several occasions in the early days of your rotations working with trauma patients where the panic had washed out all other senses. It degraded your ability to focus. But over the years you've perfected the art of compartmentalization. Of control under stress.

It's second nature to you now.

But you can still see the signs in others.

The way their breathing becomes too shallow. How they don't get their lungs completely full. How their fingertips begin to shake. The slight waver and upped-pitch in voices.

And as you and Vivian follow Georgia quickly through the helicarrier, you notice that Georgia is beginning to panic.

"Tell us what happened," you ask her in a low, calm voice as the three of you step into the elevator.

"A-a chemical spill in the lab has Critical over capacity. O-one dead, two in critical condition, seventeen others seriously wounded. Four with minor injuries. And there are more coming in. There's not enough space w-we can't-I don't know-the d-doctors-"

"Georgia," you say, placing a hand on her shoulder as the doors open. "Stay calm. You're doing everything right. I need you to stay in control, okay?"

As the elevator doors open the smell of blood and disinfectant overwhelms you. It's difficult to hear over all the beeping and shouting as dozens of nurses and medical staff dart around the hallways, which are completely congested with every rolling bed and patient table on the helicarrier.

You step out, pulling Georgia and Vivian to the side of the chaotic hallway. You place your hand once more on Georgia's shoulder. She tears her gaze from a young man sitting on the floor nearby, blood trickling down his leg, his pants in tatters.

"Georgia, focus only on my questions. Can you do that for me?"

Georgia nods as tears line her eyes.

"Good. Now, where are the other doctors?"

"D-Dr. Carrill is in surgery with one of the two criticals. Dr. Rowe was prepping the second when I left to get you. Sh-she should be ready for you."

"Good," you say. "And Doctors Deschamps and Griggs?" you ask.

"They're trying to stabilize the seventeen with serious wounds," Georgia answers, pointing to Griggs whose back is to you across the medbay, hovering over a patient bed as his hands move frantically - gloves covered in blood.

"Vivian," you say, looking to your friend. "Assist Émile and Griggs. Georgia, stick with Dr. Moore."

The two women nod and you exchange meaningful glances with Vivian as she leads Georgia down the hall. You had met Georgia only a few weeks prior. She's incredibly new to the ship. And only just graduated with her nursing license. But Dr. Moore is nearly as good as you at handling panicked staff and patients. So you sent Georgia with her. She would be no use to you in the OR.

Moving quickly to the locker room, you shove all of your things into a locker and change into scrubs and your white coat, retying your tight ponytail but this time twisting it up into an even tighter bun.

Stepping from the lockers, you look out across the floor. Every single bed is being used. There are bloodied bandages, gloves and cloths all over the floor from resuscitation efforts and emergency treatment. No one is standing still.