Stranded Hound: A Helluva Boss Fanfiction

Prologue

"Come on, matey, stay with me," Jim demands, increasingly concerned for the woman slumped in the passenger's seat who was trying her best to open her eyes with little success.

Jim floors it, speeding down the gravel and dirt path from his house and onto the main road into town, thanking the heavens that there was barely any traffic on the road at that time. He briefly every-so-often darts his gaze over to the woman with deep concern, who was still barely conscious and groaning ever so slightly, her face flushed red with sweat.
At long last Jim pulls up next to a pharmacy, hastily parking the car before swinging his door open, barging out of the driver's seat and rushing to the other side. Jim curses under his breath, swinging the passenger's side door open and hastily picking up the woman in his arms, reassuring her that she was going to be saved.

The man barged right into the pharmacy, just about smashing both doors with his entire body weight, carrying the just about unconscious stranger in his arms. With haste and bated breath, he calls out to any possible occupants.

"Oi, Victor! Victor, mate, I need help here! Vic!"

An older gentleman stumbles out of the office door adjacent to the front counter, answering the plea: "What the bloody hell's going on?"

Jim, just about to pass out with exhaustion himself, shows the resident pharmacist the stranger, almost unconscious in his arms; "Look, I found this woman on the edge of my property, she's just about half dead! Got here as fast as I could!"

The pharmacist quickly realized the urgency of the situation; "Ah, shi- Quickly, in here!"

He then escorts Jim into his office, a bed and other assorted adequate equipment waiting for their arrival. Jim manages to rest the stranger on the bed, heaving from exhaustion himself, before slumping on an adjacent chair provided to him. He rubs the sweat from his eyes as he curses from under his breath, watching the stranger intensely with concern. With haste, the pharmacist gets to work, checking up on the state of the stranger; temperature, any possible wounds, breathing rate, so on and so forth.

After a quick examination, he comes to his conclusion: "Heat exhaustion and moderate dehydration. Any minute more out there, and she'd be gone."

Immediately, the pharmacist acquires an IV bag full of fluid, hanging it up on a stand. He then inserts a needle attached to the bag itself into the stranger's arm, for immediate flow of the contents. Afterwards, he adjusts the air conditioner in the room to the coldest setting, at the highest possible flow rate. After much effort, the pharmacist himself sits down back into his chair, wiping his brow.

"Will she be alright?" Jim asks, full of concern.

"She'll be fine, mate, don't worry," Victor responds, taking a sip from a canister from his desk; "She's very bloody lucky you found her when you did."

The two men look towards the stranger once more, observing as the treatment stabilised her condition: her breathing had quickly stabilised, getting deeper and steadying to a reasonable rate. The two men both let out a collective sigh of relief, at last their efforts paying off.

"So, wait a minute, Jim, where did you find her," Victor asks Jim, genuinely curious.

"Just on the outskirts of my property, where that little dip towards that old creek is," Jim explains, turning towards Victor; "Got no bloody idea as to where she came from, or why she's dressed like she's come from the city, but here she is."

"Righto," Victor acknowledges, once again turning to his patient. He noticed that the stranger had at last begun showing more signs of life, her eyes slightly opening, looking up towards the ceiling. With this prompt to act, Victor begins talking to his patient; "Hey, lady, you okay?"