Bubbly88Tay's Whumptober 2018 Drabbles

October 1st - Stabbing - The Resident - Conrad Hawkins

It didn't even hurt. Not at first, anyway.

One moment, the patient had punched him, low and in his gut. The next moment Conrad had the man pinned on the floor, weary of the fact that he was a patient for injuries unknown, but flat on his back none the less. It took two more doctors, three nurses, (one of which with a familiarly blonde head of hair) and 1 other guy who just so happened to end up in the brawl (Conrad thinks he's the brother of the guy that everyone's on top of right now.)

The patient must be doped up on something because he's strong and Every time he flails his arms, Conrad ends up with an elbow to the gut and that hurts like a- It hurts. A lot. It almost takes his breath away with every elbow that connects.

The moments after that were tense and filled with the sounds of struggling and grunting, from everybody. Somebody got a sedative, finally, and within the next minute, the man finally calmed enough that one by one, the crowd began to disembark from the pile.

Conrad was the last one up, and immediately noticed the blood that coated the larger patients front.

"Shit, he's bleeding from somewhere, get that gurney!" A doctor from somewhere beside him yelled. Conrad nodded in agreement but stayed complacent where he stood, his head feeling light on his shoulder. Quickly feeling like he was going to topple over, he reached out. He grabbed on to the figure at his side.

"That's not his blood?" The same doctor called out as Conrad examined the way his scrubs were soaked in blood, running down his pant legs slowly but surely. Darker, wetter, and fresher than the blood that coated the patient.

He doesn't feel like he's been stabbed, but the scalpel sticking just barely out of his gut says otherwise.

Conrad fell to his knees around that same time, maybe before he noticed the scalpel, maybe after. He was on his knees, and he could hear his name being shouted out, and there were more words bouncing around but he couldn't hear them. Or maybe he could? But he couldn't make them out. All he could make out were the hands on his back and under his shoulders and suddenly he wasn't on the ground anymore, and rather on a soft surface. A gurney?

A face appeared above him and she's angry? Her blonde hair fell around her face and he watched the hair bounce and curl as her head bobbed up and down. She spoke to him, or maybe she's just talking? Nic will do that sometimes, she'll talk to herself, it helps her solve problems.

He must have closed his eyes because suddenly his eyes were open again, and his cheek stung, and his abdomen was suddenly screaming at him, it's so painful and suddenly he was being slapped again and his eyes were open again.

"He's losing too much blood-"

"How the hell did this happen?"

"The guy must have gotten him before we sedated him, did we see what happened before Conrad got him onto the floor?"

"No."

Then Nic was above him again and her hands were on his cheeks and there was an oxygen mask on his face and maybe it helped his breathing, but it doesn't help with the pain and whatever they're doing to butcher his front. "Stay with me, alright Conrad? You're doing really good but listen to my voice and just stay with me."

He wanted to. He didn't want the moment to end, ever.

But it does.

He wakes up again, he doesn't know how much later, but he does.

Nics at his side, sleeping with her head laying on his hand, her own hands lost under all her hair. He doesn't move, and the pain that he can feel just beneath the fog of the meds really seals the deal. He won't move. Instead, he lays there watching her chest move up and down. Up and down. Her breath on his hand, warming it with every breath.

Up and down.

Up. And down.

Up.

Down.

Up.