Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Felicity 'Flick' March (OC)
Absence makes the heart grow fonder; that's what Flick and Jake tell themselves as they prepare for their first deployment as a couple. But being apart only highlights what they need from each oth...
Warnings: 18+ no minors please. Swearing, alcohol, mentions of medical emergencies, sexual references, angst.
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Aminah read the letter in her hands for probably the 10th time in a row.
Midshipman Second Class Aminah Gill,
I am writing to inform you that your NROTC Battalion Commander has nominated you for an award, which the NROTC Committee has accepted. You will hereby receive an official Commendation, with Distinction, for the reason outlined below:
Upholding the values of the Navy and its medical corps by providing essential, exceptional and lifesaving aid to a civilian in a time of need.
A ceremony will take place at fourteen hundred hours on Monday the 2nd of March in the University of San Diego's Navy Memorial Garden, led by Captain Latoya Drake, Acting Head of NROTC San Diego. Please liaise with your local NROTC Association to organise guest attendance.
She was getting an award, a commendation with distinction no less, for saving Professor March's life.
Aminah could scarcely believe that day in October was even real. It had started so typically (she was late to a statistics lecture), but by the end of it, she was being hailed a hero by teachers and students alike.
The events passed in a blur. She remembered screaming for help at the top of her lungs and shrieking up and down the steps before calling 911. She remembered running through the list of emergency checks in her head, Danger, Response, Airways, Breathing, Circulation. Dr ABC. She rallied her findings to the operator, who then gave her the go-ahead to start CPR, with the assurance that an ambulance was on its way.
After that, Aminah could barely recall thinking: only doing. 30 chest compressions, then two rescue breaths. 30 chest compressions, two rescue breaths, 30 chest compressions... over and over again like a metronome until her arms ached and her own lungs felt empty. Until the stairway doors crashed open, and the paramedics came racing up the steps to take over control.
She still had nightmares about the way Professor March's body jolted limply from the shock of the defibrillator. She could still sense the nauseating weight of dread in the air when the Professor didn't respond to the first surge of electricity. Or the second.
I didn't do enough. If only I'd got here sooner, I must have missed something, I must have done something wrong. Please don't let her die – oh God, please don't let her -
"We have a pulse!"
The third shock succeeded. It wasn't like in the movies, there was no big gulp of breath. Just the slightest, lightest whine, barely audible over the echoed voices in the stairway.
