A/N: my mental health was meh today and I love seeing all of your reactions to the story so I decided to double update again...enjoy :)
It was a standard call. A traffic accident involving a motorcycle and a truck. Mariana hated motorcycles so much so that she called them donorcycles in the ER. So when she hopped out of the truck with Bobby and saw the pale faces of the cops and bystanders, Mariana should have known that it wasn't routine.
"Where's the captain?" Athena called over the din of the crowd.
Mariana turned, seeing the man laying on the ground with a towel covering where his legs were supposed to be. He had been completely cut in half.
"Not much we can do for him," Athena continued to say. "Speed of impact tore him clean in two. He's lost a lot of blood. I don't know how he's made it this long."
"It's a field hemicorporectomy." Mariana felt herself say the words but the ringing in her ears drowned out the noise. She slowly approached the man and kneeled down by his head, trying to maintain her composure.
"Hi, I'm Mari. I'm the paramedic that's going to treat you today." The words fell flat. She needed to hide her tone, especially with Bobby coming to join them.
"So stupid," the man muttered. "What time is it? I have to get home. Meg's gonna lose it. She's gonna frickin' lose it. Ethan's probably still outside."
"Who's Ethan?" Bobby asked.
"My son. He's on the porch, he's waiting for me, he's...outside, waiting for me. I told him to so he could see me come home. How long before you guys have me out of here? I'm so frickin' late."
Mariana shut her eyes before she plastered on a fake smile and opened them. "Your comfort is our priority, sir. Just take deep breaths, okay? Stay still and relax."
His phone began to buzz and Bobby and Mariana exchanged a glance. Bobby pulled the man's phone out of his pocket and answered, holding it up to his ear.
"We're going to help your mom and dad as best as we can. Now, I need you to hold on tight, okay? I need to make sure you're alright."
"Hey. Hey buddy," the man gasped out. "Hey pal. Yeah, I know. I'm sorry buddy. I'm late, I know, I'm trying. I'm try- yeah, I got it. I got it, like we said. Ninety six Twin Cam engine, yeah."
"Mrs. Ramirez, I'm sorry for your loss."
"1,560 CCs, cherry red, oh it's bad."
"What? What do you mean? He's fine. Antonio's fine!"
"Just like the one we saw online."
"Ma'am, the dashboard crushed his legs and severed an artery. He bled out before we could save him. I'm so sorry."
"Oh, it cooks, buddy."
"No! No, he can't be dead. He can't be! I can't do this alone. I can't. I-I...no, dear God no."
"I was hauling up Alameda like a badass. Yeah, like a real Hell's Angel."
"My papi is dead."
"Your old dad was like a new man, buddy. I'm telling you."
"You're a little too smart for your age."
"And don't tell mom but this thing is a chick magnet."
"Papi called me his angelic little terror."
"I was on top of the world, pal, but let me tell you something: I would have felt just as good if I was on a ten-speed bike, 'cause I knew I was coming home to you."
"I'm sorry, Mariana. This will be hard. Your life has changed. But you'll be okay."
"I love you, son."
"I love you, papi."
The death rattle. The final draw of breath. The man's eyes grew blank and empty as he breathed his last. Mariana kept her eyes locked on his, scared as to what she would see if she pulled her gaze away. Bobby dropped the phone and Mariana quickly picked it up, her gaze never faltering.
"Ethan? Hi. Is your mom home? Can I talk to her?" Mariana asked.
"Uh, sure? Hey mom!"
There was a rustling over the line and soon a woman answered. "Hello?"
"Ma'am, my name is Mariana Ramirez. I'm a paramedic with the LAFD. I'm sorry, ma'am, but your husband was just involved in a vehicular crash. We did everything we could. I'm sorry, ma'am. This will be hard. Your life has changed. But you'll be okay."
///
"Heading out?" Mari asked as she climbed out of the engine cab. She had been taking her job as engineer seriously and was usually found in or around the trucks or tinkering with engines. She stripped off her gloves as she approached Bobby and stuck them in her back pocket before she crossed her arms over her chest and planted her feet, staring him down.
"You'll have fun and you'll be safe," she ordered.
"I'm pretty sure my job as captain is to tell YOU that," Bobby chuckled. "I promise I'll have fun and I'll be safe. Will you be safe and respectful to Lieutenant Forrester?"
"Always am, sir," she scoffed. They both knew she was lying. Mariana was one of the most insubordinate and stubborn people when it came to taking orders. If she thought she had a better plan or needed to protect her team, she would do what she thought was right.
"You'll call me if you have any problems? Text me when you get home?"
"Yes dad. Now, go! Off on your date," she shooed him out. "I got this."
One of the first shift EMTs was out sick and Chimney already had a game night planned and Hen needed to reconnect with Karen so it was down to Mari. She didn't mind the extra work especially since she got the next shift off while the rest of them had to work.
Bobby smiled at her and pulled her in for a hug. She stiffened at first but eventually loosened up, her arms coming up to wrap around his waist.
"I know you've got this but I still worry. It's my job."
"You're off duty."
"Nah, not for you. Not for any of the team."
Mariana pulled back from the hug and she smiled up at Bobby who affectionately ruffled her hair. "Call if you need anything."
"I promise!"
She waved him off and returned to checking the pressure gauges on the truck, humming to herself. Mariana would probably turn down in two hours in the hopes of limited night calls. Hayes had whipped up some soup for dinner while Bartlow dragged them into a rousing game of spades, but Mariana preferred to work on the truck. She liked the team, but they weren't her usual shift. She was used to Hen and Chimney and Buck and Bobby.
They turned down into the bunks around nine but of course, the alarm rang at ten. Mariana hopped out of her cot and rushed towards the pole. Dispatch said only medical was needed so she and Brian Hayes were the only ones needed.
Yanking on her pants and buckling her belt, Mariana threw her radio belt over her shoulder and hopped into the driver's seat just as Brian slid into the passenger seat.
"Dispatch, read the call again please," she said into the radio.
"Chest pains reported at 2337 Dorchester Ave."
"10-4, over."
The ride was easy and traffic was suspiciously light for LA. Mariana and Brian joked around as they pulled up to the address of the call and Mariana frowned once she saw the area. The whole street was dimly lit and dark and she could barely see the house numbers. She turned on the brights of the ambulance, revealing a man lying on the ground of an alley with another man kneeled down next to him.
"Here we go," Brian exclaimed as they exited the ambulance.
"Hey, did you guys call in the chest pains?" Mari called as she walked closer.
Something in her mind was begging her to stop moving. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to stop. Something was wrong. Years of being on her guard kept her aware and ready. She motioned for Brian to stop moving and instead clicked on her radio.
"Hey, are you guys okay? Did you call in the chest pains?"
The kneeling man stood and reached for his hip where a flash of metal had Mariana moving faster than she ever had before. She lunged to block Brian and pushed him back towards the ambulance.
"Listen, we don't have to make a big deal outta this. My buddy and here just need a good fix and you guys got the good stuff," the man announced as he pulled out the gun.
"Buddy, strongest stuff I've got is Narcan," she retorted. "Put the gun down or else this will end very badly for you. Assaulting a paramedic is one thing, armed robbery and manslaughter is another."
She could hear the sound of fingers flying over a keyboard in her ear. Dispatch heard. Dispatch knew. Police were on their way.
"You and I both know you got more than Narcan. Just hand it over and you can go. Don't and this will end very badly for you."
"C'mon man. This is a new low," she snarked. "Just let us go man and we won't press charges. Won't tell the police nothing."
"That's real good but that ain't what I want."
"Sal, just let 'em go!" the man's friend shouted which resulted in a bickering match between the two.
The man was clearly a junkie beyond reason. He was scratching at the wrist of the arm holding the gun and his head kept twitching. Mariana gently pushed Brian towards the ambulance.
"You're going to ease to the door, hop in, and drive. I'll slide into the passenger seat once I divert him long enough. Got it?" she whispered.
Brian nodded and slowly inched towards the ambulance as the men fought.
"You're not gonna shoot 'em! That'll make it worse! Let's just go before the cops show up."
"The cops ain't gonna show up! She's gonna give me the meds and then we get outta here before she can even call them. Ain't that right, sweetheart?"
"Or, hear me out, I give you a ride to a rehab center. We got great charities that'll pay for it. C'mon man you don't want to live as an addict for the rest of your life, right?" Mari tried.
"Or you give me the fucking oxy and I don't put a bullet in your buddy's brain!" Sal shouted, pointing the gun at Brian.
"GO!" Brian took that as his signal to bolt and he lunged for the driver's door, starting up the ambulance and beginning to pull away. Mariana sprinted towards Sal in an attempt to knock the gun out of his hand and draw him away from Brian. He spun around and fired once, twice.
Mariana Ramirez had helped a lot of gunshot victims in her life. She sat through the classes and lectures and the clinicals. Whether in the ER or in the field, she had packed their wounds, held their hands, and promised them that it would be alright. But nothing can prepare you for actually being shot. At first, it felt like nothing. But then, the adrenaline mixed with the shock coupled with the hot lead that was just pumped into her body burned. Her stomach felt like it was on fire as was her chest. She could hear footsteps running away as she stumbled back and collapsed onto the pavement.
Apply pressure to the wound. Don't let them bleed out before they get to the OR. Pack the wound. Look out for shock.
Her lungs felt heavy as she fought to take a breath. Inhale. Exhale. Every ragged breath felt like a fire in her chest. Her hands shook as she pressed them against her blood soaked body and as she stared up in the night sky of Los Angeles, she began to remember.