Fly High and Go Far

BOB-Chapter Thirteen: Come Home to Me

Sam shot her eyes open and felt the worst pain she had ever experienced, practically screaming once air was in her lungs again. As her eyes adjusted, she saw three figures standing over her met by more slightly familiar faces, all blurry and vaguely human shaped.
"Doc?" Sam groggily asked.
"Lieutenant Kazansky, can you tell me what year it is?"
"2022, sir," she spoke. Every breath she took in and breathed out hurt like she had been underwater for too long.
"What is your mother's name?" He asked, shining a light in her eyes.
"Sarah. Sir? Where am I?"
"Flight deck of the Lincoln. You needed to be resuscitated when the DDG grabbed you. You were barely breathing before not breathing at all once we got you out of the helicopter. You're okay now," the doctors replied. He snapped his fingers and a group of people came over, grabbing the stretcher Sam was on.
"What about my head?" Sam asked as the Doc moved out of the way.
"We have a pressure bandage on it to keep it stable until we get you into the medical bay. Now take it easy, Lieutenant.  We're getting you on the next flight out."
  The stretcher's Velcro made noises as she was jerked down the ladderwells and eventually do one floor below the hangar bay to the medical bay.  Sam's head pounded with each jerk, making her want to kill for some relief. 
  "We're almost there, ma'am," the corpsman at her side said as Sam went horizontal finally as they rushed her to the massive medical area.  She was put into a room where various officers and enlisted ran around, knowing they had to prepare for her.
  "Are you away you have metal shards embedded in your skin, Lieutenant?" Doc asked as he walked into the room where Sam eventually rested.  Sam stared confused.
  "No, because I haven't been fully aware of my body since I got into that jet, sir," she responded.
  "Okay.  So those need to be removed as soon as you're stateside.  There's only so much I can do in here.  Your head wound will require you to get, I would say, about thirty to fifty stitches.  You might have to get a thing of blood for how much you've lost.  I can take X-rays if you to see if you have any internal bleeding, so do you think you can stand up?"
  "I don't know.  Haven't tried since I got whisked away off that coastline," Sam said.  Doc chuckled and shook his head.
  "Alright, let me get you some help."

Sam looked at her x-rays as they were show to her one by one. She didn't know what she was looking at, but she could semi tell that she was okay.
"So you have no broken bones, so there's that," he stared at the X-rays carefully. "And I'm ninety-five percent sure you have no internal bleeding. That five percent is just because X-rays don't show bleeds very well."
"Well, there's that," Sam said. "So just scrapes and cuts with some muscle pulls?"
"Basically," he replied back. "You'll get a CT scan when we get you back to San Diego." He stared down at his X-rays, content with reading them to the best of abilities.
"When does the plane land?" Sam ask, every movement giving a flash of red hot pain.
"I'll go double check. You need someone to go with you so pick someone. You have some time to decide," he said, standing up to leave.
"Robert Floyd," Sam practically shouted. Doc turned to her, confused that she had that answer ready to go. "Lieutenant Robert Floyd. He was a wizzo on this mission. He's most likely in the flight room for the debrief."
"Then I will call for him. But for now, you need to rest," Doc ordered. Sam couldn't say no to a much needed nap. Her body ached and it was sore beyond anything she's every experienced. Then she thought to herself about how Bob's shoulders felt after his ejection a week or so earlier. This was unbearable to her, and to think he worked out through the pain. That was both scary and extremely hot at the same time.

She had fallen asleep at some point since she was woken up by Doc standing next to her bed with Bob running into the medical bay. Sam cracked an eye open and her hearing became clear as she heard Bob ask where she was. He looked at her in the room and on the bed, quickly walked over, holding onto her hand.
"God dammit, Kazansky. You scared the shit out of me," he whispered, thinking Sam wasn't awake.
"She took quite a beating. But she'll need someone to take care of her for a bit since she's recovering from a rather serious crash," Doc piped up.
"What's wrong with her?" Bob asked, turning his head towards Doc.
"Torn and overstretched muscles all over, metal shards embedded in her skin, and a massive head wound. This might honestly be enough to ground her, but that's not my call," Doc explained. Sam felt a pit in her stomach and opened up her eyes more to fully be in the conversation.
"Ground me? Sir? You can be serious," Sam croaked, catching the attention of Bob.
"Good morning, Lieutenant.  But yes. With that head wound and the severity of your muscle pain, they might temporarily ground you, if not permanently ground you," Doc said. "But either way, I got you your escort for this trip. He is to stay with you until otherwise noted. The plane is scheduled to land at any minute so we are going to wheel you out to the flight deck."
"I'm going to be here for you," Bob reassured in a soft and quiet tone. Sam smiled up at him and held his hand, giving him a squeeze.