LET YOU DOWN
chapter thirty seven
HUNTER CALLAHAN WAS A stubborn son of a bitch. Well, daughter of a bitch if someone was being technical. She sat slumped down on the cloth of the couch with her arms crossed and legs stretched out.
"It's been twenty minutes..." the man, the doctor, trailed off, "and all you have said is that you aren't particularly fond of me."
"Would you rather me lie?" She asked, finally speaking to the man. Doctor Bailey, he had introduced himself as. Hunter shifted, leaning forward as she rested her elbows on the knees and stared him in the eyes. "Listen, doc, I don't wanna be in this fucking hell hole— I'm only here to keep my job."
The therapist had met many reluctant patients belfry but Hunter made his brain tick in a new way. She was odd, never breaking eye contact as she silently read everything about him from his body language but he could not do the same to her. Doctor Bailey did not like that as he was normally the one that interpreted the slight movements of people and for once he was unable to do so.
He nodded his head, "so I've been told," he acknowledged, trying to hide a frustrated sigh, "anything you say to me can't leave this room if that's what you're worried about."
"I don't worry," Hunter deadpanned. It was a lie. She worried far more often than she had in the past. The blonde hardly slept through the night and the makeup covered bags under her eyes would prove it. Previously, she would have a flashback every once in awhile while sleeping and she'd find herself waking up in a terror of night sweat and an itch to hold a gun close to her in safety. But now it was worse, she'd have the fits of sweat and memories while awake— walking down the street or even just minuscule sounds, "life is what it is."
"No paranoia or anxiety?" The doctor asked for clarification.
Hunter shrugged, "Less than you experience."
The doctor swallowed hard, pursing his lips at her low blow. It frustrated him when he wasn't able to bait a patient into even just a tiny slip of information to begin a build of trust. But then again, he had never worked with a decorated and cold marine gunnery Sargent before. He could tell simple things about her; she was a fighter, undiagnosed post traumatic stress disorder (and not just from recent events), and she was far too skilled at bottling up her emotions for her own good.
Minutes ticked by, the echoing sound of the clock in the wall ticked by as Hunter waited for the painstakingly slow hour to pass by. The two stared at each other, willing the other to break and say something first. They both knew it would be the doctor as he had a job to do and all Hunter had to do was... well all she wanted to do was make his job harder.
"I figure if we'll be spending the next few weeks together than we should get to know each other—"
"The fire department sent you my file when they mandated that I come here, you know everything you need to know about me," Hunter spoke, her words not faltering as she leaned back to sit comfortably on the couch, throwing her feet onto the coffee table, not bothered by light dust print that her boots left on the white wood.
The doctor nodded, "but I'd like to hear it from you."
"Seems redundant," Hunter pointed out with pursed lips, giving him a fake worrisome expression. The blonde finally broke eye contact as she looked at the white ticking clock on the wall
That was the first time the doctor had seen her break her blank expression. Without regard for her session, Hunter stood as she collected her purse from the arm chair as she began to walk out. "We aren't done—"
"I am," Hunter clarified as she looked back at the man, "six minutes left, darling, un—fucking—fortunately, I'll see you next week."
She hated being late for work, she had already known there was a possibility of being so in doing these sessions before her shifts but Hunter wouldn't stay if it meant making her late. The blonde was a firm believer of 'if you aren't early, then you're late' and she didn't care if the doctor wrote to the chief with a complaint, she had a job to do.
Both Chimney and Hen were eyeing the blonde suspiciously as they rode in the engine truck to the call across town. She hadn't arrive as early as she normally did, meaning something had thrown off her morning routine. Both knew how particular she was about her schedule when it came to work and they wanted to know what it was.
Everyone seemed to be on edge considering the ransom LA was held in, the first responders anxiously waiting for each call to come through along with the shit show that would follow.
Hunter hadn't told anyone, save for Buck and her captain, that she was mandated to talk to someone in regards to her incident. Mostly only because she was unable to hide it from the two of them. Both Hen and Chimney quickly diverted their gaze from the blonde woman when her eyes suddenly snapped to meet theirs. The bright blue of her piercing stare said enough to have them practically sweating in their seats.
The Callahan had felt the stares from the two, it didn't take long for her to become fed up with it. The 118 had seemed to be walking on egg shells, constantly watching Hunter for even an inkling of a slip up. She hated it, to say the least, she didn't want the prying eyes or her teammates to be tiptoeing around her.
She let out a sigh, possibly more of a huff, as she quickly left the engine truck as they arrive on scene. Her boots being the first of her teams' to hit the solid ground. The loud drone of airplanes overhead echoed in her ear— the sound of the engines had her almost ducking for cover when the first plane took off.
"He's right over there. His name is Nick. I'm his supervisor," the woman told the 118 as they exited the elevator, Hunter and Buck walked out last side by side. Neither of them ever helped too much on one patient medical calls— not when Chimney and Hen were both around. Plus, with Eddie helping, the two of them would be in the way more often than not. The two blonde strode next to their captain, "He's been unconscious for eight minutes. I can't get a steady pulse. "
"Got it. We'll take it from here," Chimney's voice echoed out before he looked around, "Let's clear out. Give me some room."
Hunter frowned, looking around the severely empty room. The sound of planes taking off and landing overhead still echoed loudly. The Diaz man was distracted the same as Hunter, their eyes shifting all around the room in a confused state nearing worry.
"Yo, Eddie, this is the part where you glue wires to him."
"Shouldn't the air traffic controllers be...?" Eddie trailed off.
"Yeah... Controlling air traffic? I was just wondering the same damn thing," Hunter finished his thought as her eyes skittishly watched the sky.
"Our system's down. Techs are figuring out why," the woman, the supervisor as she had introduced herself, explained.
Hunter shared a look with Eddie before the man knelt to the ground and opened up the medical pack to begin doing his job. The Callahan then looked over at Buck, "I don't like all these technological difficulties LA is having—"
"Calm down, Hunt," Bobby chimed in with a sigh, his eyes rolling as he looked down at the patient on the floor.
It was Hunter's turn to roll her eyes, "sorry for worrying about the safety of my city," she muttered under her breath, bringing her hand up to unbutton the top button of shirt to loosen the choking feeling around her neck. The air traffic room felt suffocating to her. The temperature too hot, the sounds too loud. The words that Hen were commanding seemed to get lost before they reached her ears, a simple blur of sounds in her mind.
She swallowed hard, jumping as she felt a hand land on her shoulder. Spinning around, she relaxed a tad seeing the concerned look on Buck's face but she simply nodded, not even bothering to paste a smile on her lips.
"He's in V-fib," Hunter finally registered the words being spoken around her by Chimney and Hen, "Damn it. Come on, buddy. Come on, Nick."
"Clear," one of the paramedics— Hunter wasn't sure which one said it, yelled out before shocking the chest of the patient. A faint beeping of the man's heartbeat rang out, "Normal rhythm."
"It's okay, Nick. Just breathe," Hen told him softly but firmly, laying a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving.
"What happened?"
"You had a heart attack," Chimney gently told Nick, "You must have a good boss. She kept you with us until the cavalry arrived."
Hunter frowned looking at the supervising woman, "are you okay?" She asked her, eyeing her paling face with increasing worry.
"I... don't know. My heart's racing. I can't breathe," she listed off, her voice rising in pitch as she began freaking out, "Am I having a heart attack, too?"
Hunter reached out, supporting the woman by grabbing onto her arms as she helped lower her to sit on the ground, "Not necessarily, darling, Could be a panic attack."
As soon as Hunter brought her fingers up to the woman's neck in an attempt to find a pulse to measure, the woman's eyes fluttered closed as her body collapsed backwards. "Ah shit," Hunter muttered under her breath, fingers still searching to feel a pulse, "Guys, we got another one."
"This is Captain Nash... We're gonna need a second gurney."
Hunter looked over at chimney as he approached her, "fast BP, probably a panic attack— she's not in cardiac arrest but don't quote me on that," she told him as she moved to stand and give him his own room to work.
"Hey, looks like the system's rebooting," one of the air traffic controllers let out with relief as the employees entered the room once more, "Everything's coming back on line."
"Finally, a piece of good news."
It appeared they had spoken too soon as the automated voice filled the room, "You lose, all your systems belong to us. To get them back, send one million. Click the link below."
The crackling of the recording faded out as the speakers of the computer went silent one more. The employees in the room shifted aground warily.
"You've got to me fucking with me."
Hen nervously sighed from next to Hunter, "Karen was right. This is the end of the world."
The loud band of a man hitting the floor bellowed out and through the room, hen moved forward after a moment of pause. Bobby let out a loud sigh of disbelief, "We're gonna need another gurney."
NO ONE REMINDED
ME IT WAS TUESDAY
do any of you guys read
my other stories or
just this one, interested
in the overlap of my reads.