- 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 -
"It's knowing that this can't go on forever... likely one of us will have to spend some days alone."
In the three years since Hunter Callahan had joined firehouse 118, she had found a family that no matter how hard she tri...
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LET YOU DOWN. chapter thirty four.
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HUNTER COULDN'T SPEAK, not for a moment anyways as she squinted up at the bright harsh hospital lights. The oxygen line tickled the inside of her nose but she could hardly move. Her vision was slowly becoming straight, like waking up after fainting or being put under, but to be fair, one of those things probably had happened.
She hadn't been able to call for help, the constant beeping of the EKG began driving her crazy as laid there by herself the IV in her arm stung slightly but it was nothing compared to the burn she felt in her side. Hunter wanted to fall back asleep, having trouble keeping her eyes open as they kept fluttering closed.
Soon enough, a nurse hovered over her, speaking words Hunter couldn't quite make out as she watched the woman, her movements seemingly broken and lagging in her hazy state. Moments later, a man stood above her. The white lab coat telling her this was the doctor. A small groan left her lips as he shone a flashlight in her eyes. In her mind, she wanted to yell that she had just woken up and needed a minute to herself.
"Jesus, fuck," the first words she had muttered as she turned her head to the side to get away from the doctor's gaze.
"Ah, so she speaks," he joked, Hunter would have shot him a glare if she could have mustered the strength, "how are you feeling?"
Hunter scoffed slightly, "Like I was encased in cement and drugged backwards by a fuckin' freight train."
"You paint a pretty picture, Miss Callahan. Let me tell you, you had a lot of people worried," he said, sticking the flashlight back into the pocket of his white coat, "but, if you hadn't guessed, you'll live."
"You sure?" She sarcastically asked, "doesn't feel like it."
"So more Tramadol," he concluded as he waved to a nurse while sitting down in the chair next to her bed, "You weren't the easiest to patch up but all things considered, the wound wasn't that bad. It's the fact that it had gone untreated. We repaired part of your large intestine but an abdominal gunshot wound is a multisystemic, traumatic injury that commonly has high mortality. You'll be here for awhile, at the risk of avoiding infection— you're lucky your body didn't go into shock."
