11

282 10 5
                                    

(glossary at the end for those who need it)

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The next four hours were... chaotic.

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"-hy is the FBI here?"

"Special Agent George Davidson, twenty-five-year-old male, GSW to the upper abdomen, no exit wound. Heart rate 138, BP 134 over 86, O2 SATs at ninety-three percent. Went unconscious twice in the ambo, four of morphine given on the move."

"Thanks, Janine. Move him on my count, one, two, three!"

"Bilateral breath sounds, lungs sound a little wet though. Don't intubate yet, get him on the monitors. Bag him, see if we can't push his SATs up."

"Alice, start an I.V. and hang a bag of O-neg on the rapid transfuser until we can get a type-and-cross. Someone get the portable x-ray!"

"There's too much blood, I can't see the bullet..."

"Push five of fentanyl for the pain, is he still awake?"

"Sir? George, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

"Can you tell me what year it is? Can you squeeze my fingers?"

"I felt that, I felt him squeeze! George, you're in the hospital, okay? You were shot but it's alright, we're gonna take good care of you."

"Otherwise unresponsive to external stimuli. Pupils are reactive but sluggish, where's that fentanyl?"

"Clear... the bullet is lodged in his spleen, that's a pretty clear picture."

"That explains the extra blood, we should get him up to the OR, let them deal with him."

"We can't move him until he's stabilized."

"Push twelve of enalapril, see if that helps."

"SATs are coming back up, vitals stable."

"Call the OR, tell them we're coming up."

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"Who's this?"

"George Davidson, GSW to the side and now there's a nine-millimetre in his spleen."

"Thanks, Callum, we got him from here."

"He's had fentanyl and morphine, it'll be on his chart."

"Thanks. Camille, prep the OR, get the anesthesiologist on standby and page Doctor Beckett."

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"George? George!" George opened his eyes to a melodic female voice. The lights were a bright white, blinding. He tried to ask whoever was speaking to him to turn them off, but found something obstructing his mouth. Where was he? Had he been kidnapped?

"George, calm down, okay? I'll be right back, hold on," the woman said, patting the brunette's leg before getting up. As she flitted out the door, George caught a glimpse of fluffy brown hair. He sighed in relief. Unless he was mistaken, the woman was just Captain Puffy. That ruled out kidnapping. A woman wearing a long white coat walked into the room.

"Hi, George, I'm Doctor Beckett. Just a second, I'll get rid of this breathing tube and then we can talk, okay?" She said warmly, looking into the brunette's distressed eyes.

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