A line ringing over your headset notifies you another emergency call is coming in. You cleared your head, preparing for anything, and clicked the spacebar, answering it, "911, what's your emergency?"
"Bro, that was insane," the male voice said over the phone. "You're gonna be famous on YouTube."
"Excuse me, sir? What seems to be the problem?" you asked, letting out a sigh.
"My friend is having trouble breathing, and his throat feels like it's on fire."
"What's the address?"
"576 Rose Lane in Westwood."
You typed the address into your computer, signaling the nearest available unit to the caller's location. "First responders are on their way. Can you tell me what he was doing before this happened?"
"We were doing the cinnamon challenge." You rolled your eyes. "I thought it was harmless. Then, he was gagging, and then he coughed, and a puff of cinnamon came out of his nose. It was awesome; he looked like a dragon." It's been a while since you got a call about an internet challenge gone wrong, but it's been forever since you got a cinnamon challenge one. You didn't even know that challenge was still around. "Oh fuck!"
"Is everything okay? What happened?"
"He collapsed. He's not moving. Should I shake him awake?"
"He probably passed out, but paramedics are only a few minutes away. Is he still breathing?"
"I don't think so," he panicked.
"Remember to stay calm, I'll help you through this the best I can, okay? Okay, now I am going to have to ask you to administer CPR. Do you know what to do?"
"Sort of. I learned it in health class a few years ago."
"Perfect. It's 30 chest compressions followed by two breaths going to the rhythm of the song Staying Alive. You can do this."
"Ok---okay. Yeah. Right, right," he mumbled. Hearing him set the phone down on the ground, he started counting and doing chest compressions.
The responding unit was about a block away, and once they arrived, you could hear the sirens coming through the phone call.
"Odinson, take over compressions," a lady's voice commanded. "Kid, come with me."
"Is he going to be..." the line went dead as he hung up his phone.
You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. This wasn't anything new; when help arrives, people hang up, and you don't get to know how it ends, but maybe it was for the best. You sit back up, seeing your reflection in one of the many screens in front of you. At least, you knew most of the firefighters from Station 107 at the scene, including your brother Thor, if you ever wanted to know how it ended.
It's tough, taking call after call, emergency after emergency with little to no recovery time in between. It's a stressful job that is emotionally and physically taxing. It requires extreme focus, patience, and puts you under a certain kind of pressure. The pressure of wanting to help and do everything you possibly can when this person you never met puts their life in your hands. You never know what the outcome will be, but you try to help them get through what might be the scariest moment in their life. It's those calls, the ones you were able to save, that keep you coming back to work.
You stepped away from your command center and headed towards the kitchenette, spotting Luis rummaging through the fridge. It wasn't unusual, but it did always bring a smile to your face. It was hard to believe he was one of the dispatchers who showed you the ropes after relocating to Los Angeles three months ago.
YOU ARE READING
Lifeline | Steve Rogers
Fanfiction(First Responder!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relatio...