Tu Es Ma Lumière

198 - Plane Crash *Modern*

Mary had a surprisingly hard time opening her eyes. In that moment, she's really rather confused about why this is, but the thought is gone in a moment when she feels warmth dripping down her face. She mumbles something, rolling out her body. It's painful, multiple cracks leave her otherwise thin and trim body. She whimpers, before forcing her eyes to open again. Noises of pain leave her lips as she manages to sit up straight. Her eyes are blurry, she doesn't register what's before her just yet. She uses her left arm to reach up and touch her face. Fresh blood almost immediately coats her long fingers and slim palm. She winces, uselessly wiping her own blood off her fingers, cleaning the gold and diamonds.

Shaking her head, clearing the cobwebs, Mary looks around the cabin that she'd been flying within and what looked back at her seemed to be something close to a war zone. The windows were broken, air masks hung uselessly from the ceiling. Luggage and the cart was strewn everywhere, little packets of crackers and water bottles were laying in the midst of clothing and shoes. Smoke, fuel, and the grim scent of death hung in the air. Her stomach rolls for a moment, but her senses quickly follow. She's been working in the A&E department for two years now, and has been studying multiple different areas of the medical field for even longer. Co-workers had called her a jack of all trades multiple times in her short career in the field, so the smell and the sight of blood hardly bothers her now.

Looking closer, the plane appears to have been torn in half. She winces, turning out of her seat to see the other end of the plane just on the edge of her sight, but the sight of flames proves this discovery useless. Sadness burns her gut for a moment, but the instinct of a medical professional pushes her closer to reality. Now, she had to check for survivors and get anybody else who was alive to safety immediately.

She tears at the tattered remains of her seatbelt and begins to stand, but her head sins and she's forced back down. Anger burns at her, and she forces herself to stand up again. An immense pain burns though her body and she begins to quickly realise that there's broken bones in her body. It hardly matters, however, she can evaluate herself later. Mary forces herself to limp to the isle and begins to check to see if any others had survived, she can hear some weak noises, so that's always a good sign. Hobbling, Mary used her one good arm (or, rather, the arm that hurt less than the other useless fucker that just hung at her side whenever she didn't hold it to her torso) to check for any people with pulses. 

Two people had pulses, out of the sixteen who were sitting where she had sat. They didn't weigh a great deal, so Mary had managed to drag them both up to the first class, where others were sitting. A man in a professional suit had some fair blood loss from a piece of glass in his body, so she grabs the tie from the dead woman next to him (poor soul, only about twenty one, who had obviously snapped her neck) she tied it as tightly as his leg would allow, making a tourniquet. She pulls him onto the floor and tries to lay him as gently and comfortably as she could near the doorway where she had put the other people.

As she checks, the facts come to her mind. It seems that the left side of the plane took the brunt, while the back in it's totality had taken the blow, whatever that had been. Two more women had survived out of them all, so she lay them all side by side as she got to the last part of the first class. Two young men were gone, but a blonde man on the left had a pulse. It wasn't strong, but it wasn't weak, either. Mary takes a moment to check him over. His face and hair was covered in blood, and it seems that his left ankle had some damage, and maybe perhaps his ribs or arm, but he was in a mighty fine better health than the others.

Mary tried to wake him, but the man was unconsious. He was lucky, she realises, after pulling him from his chair (and yes, his left foot had some damage, it had been trapped between two heavy crates) and lay him near the door. Exhaustion set in as she checked the surivors again. One young girl had lost her pulse, but the little boy that had been with her had a strong heartbeat. She whispers her apology to the girl, before pulling her out of the way to make way for the others to try and get out. They couldn't stay in the plane. One, it was desturbing, two, the scent of fuel in the air made it less than safe.

Forty seven passengers, and only nine people survived. One being a child. Mary closed her eyes and fished the gold rosary her father had given her after his successful fight with cancer when she was eight or nine.

"Please help me, Lord. I cannot save them all alone."

Mary hobbles to the enterance and smashes open the door. She engages the emergency chute and begins to push them all down the slide. Just before the ravenette grabbed the child, the blonde man began to move.  He winces, reaches up to grab at his head and mutters something in French. Mary grabs his shoulder to get his attention. He inhales sharply, eyes opening slowly.

"Mister, look at me." she says sharply. Pretty blue eyes open up and they look at her. She bites back a smile, he had beautiful eyes, but the fact they were in a crisis and he didn't look all that great pushes down her relief that somebody else had survived and was consious. "I'm Mary, I'm a doctor, okay? We've been in a plane crash, I need your help."

"What? What the fuck?" he rasps. "A plane crash? I thought that shit happened in movies." he says.

"Some, yes. But I need your help getting off this plane, it could blow, don't you smell the fuel?" she asks. He mutters something again. "Can you stand?" He does, but he wobbles a little. "Good." she breathes. "We have to get down she shoot, can you grab her and I'll take the child?" He nods, then wipes his face.

"God," he mutters. "Who the hell can say they got into a plane crash and have a beautiful woman order them around?"

Mary raises a brow. "We nearly died and you're flirting with me?"

He shrugs, then winces.

"I'll check you over later, okay? But we need to get down there before anything else, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." he mutters. Within moments, all four of them are down and Mary checks them over again. One man had died, leaving the total at eight. She bites her lip, whispering an apology, before placing him under the wing.

"What's your name?" he asks after a moment of silence for the man who had died.

"I'm Mary." she says, brushing the sweat from her face. "What's yours?"

"Francis."