In which a paramedic from Saint-Louis moves to Chicago to start over. Turns out she had no clue what the windy city had in store for her.
JAY HALSTEAD x OC.
*I do not own anything from the One Chicago Universe. I only own my characters and their sto...
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PART TWO OF 6 | BRACE YOURSELF
Turns out the paramedics themselves were okay, but the driver of the car was in critical condition. The other man had Emerson work on him, her hands covered with blood that wasn't hers.
"Hematomas' recollecting." She muttered, more for Peter than anything else.
"I thought you fixed him." The man loudly exclaimed, waving his gun around.
"He needs medical attention." Emerson retorted as Peter took over the care. She hated that he was preventing the other man to get the help he needed - even though they kidnapped them.
"Isn't that your job?"
"We're paramedics, not doctors. You need to get him to an ER." Peter answered, raising his hands when the man pointed his gun towards his face.
"This is your fault anyway, that smart-ass stunt. Fix him, or i'll put a bullet in your head." His words sent shivers running up Emerson's back. When she came to Chicago, this was definitely not what she was expecting.
"This lump on your buddy's neck is due to internal bleeding. As it grows it presses on his trachea, And that's what's causing the difficulty in breathing. It's only gonna get worse." Peter tried to reason.
"So cut it open again." As they continued pointlessly discussing, Emerson observed the man's state - trying to figure out her next move.
"That's only a temporary fix. Look... You're gonna die unless you get this bleed tied off. You need to get to the hospital." Peter tried speaking directly to the man on the makeshift operating table.
"We might as well waltz into a police station." The man with the gun answered.
"No hospitals." The driver said, breathing hard as his phone started ringing. "Don't answer it, not if we're giving him bad news." He weakly spoke as he handed it off to his partner.
"Can't you guys tie off the bleed?" He asked nervously.
"No."
"Maybe." Emerson and Mills spoke at the same time, the woman's eyes widening as she heard her partner's words.
"What? Mills, that's surgery." She spoke in a warning tone, uneasy with the fact that he wanted to do this.
"Look, if we do this, will you let us go?"
The man thought about it for a couple of seconds, pondering hsi options, "Okay. Deal."
Peter turned around to stand on the other side of Emerson, who scoffed and grabbed his arm as if to stop him. "No, we are just paramedics. All we have is a first aid kit."
"All we do is make an incision and clamp the bleeding. It's not gonna be pretty, but it's gonna save his life." Mills pushed while Emerson glared at him, the phone ringing once again in the man's hands. This time, he answered it.
