A/N: Glee belongs to Fox I sadly do not own it
Sirens.
Lots of Sirens.
Flashing red and white strobe lights.
Voices.
Terrified-sounding voices.
And then nothing...
The double doors leading into the Emergency Entrance of the Westerville Memorial Hospital automatically slid open allowing the Paramedic crew to enter, wheeling along a red stretcher.
One paramedic walked briskly alongside the stretcher rhythmically squeezing the large silicon bag of air, forcing into the lungs of the young man lying on the cot.
Several nurses rushed towards the crew, anxiously asking questions and barking out orders.
"Do we know who he is?"
"What's his GCS?"
"Get me five of morphine, now!"
"Did you get the bleeding controlled?"
"Call CT and tell them we're on our way up with a potential cerebral herniation!"
"Somebody, keep trying to get a hold of his family!"
"When is the second truck coming?"
"They were right behind us; they should be here soon..."
"Damn it! He's decorticate..."
As quickly as he'd arrived, the boy was stabilized and rushed upstairs to the radiography department while several nurses and technicians quickly prepared the operating rooms.
The second ambulance pulled into the bay moments later, and another boy was whisked through the doors nearly as quickly.
The oxygen mask affixed to Blaine's face made it exceedingly difficult to speak, and muffled his pained cries and groans.
His eyes fearfully darted from side to side, trying to take in as much information as he possibly could.
"Honey, you're at the hospital." A middle-aged, dark blonde nurse gingerly rubbed his arm as he was poked and prodded by other doctors, nurses and the paramedic crew that brought him in.
"You're going to be alright now sweetie..."
Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, causing several tears to stream down his face when a new wave of pain surged through his chest as the rigid plastic spineboard to which he was securely fastened tipped slightly to the side as he was moved from the EMS stretcher onto a hospital gurney. He grunted in short, shallow breaths, each increasing the pain in his chest tenfold.
"Let's get some more morphine over here... Our little guy is hurting quite a bit..." The nurse said, looking up from Blaine's battered frame momentarily.
Seconds later Blaine could feel a slight stinging sensation in the crook of his arm, followed by a flow of warmth flooding his system, which made his head begin to swim slightly.
He blinked several times, trying to clear the cobwebs, unable to move his head as it too, was fixed firmly to the board. A pair of semi-rigid head blocks prevented him from turning his head to the side to take in his surroundings.
The same nurse leaned back over his face and he noted, in a drug-induced haze, that she had the most gentle looking eyes he'd ever seen.
"Honey, can you tell me your name?"
Blaine opened his mouth to speak, running his dry tongue over his chapped lips before hoarsely whispering into the oxygen mask.
The nurse leaned down closer to his face and gently lifted the mask away from his lips. "Sorry, honey, say that again?"
"J-Jake?"
