Chapter Text
It was a busy day. The hospital was filled with soldiers left and right. Voices overlapped in the halls, ambulances pulled in and out without a pause. The stench of blood covered the now faint smell of disinfectant.
A landmine had gone off.
Dylan’s ears sharpened when he heard another screech of tires just outside the hospital. His teal scrubs clung to his skin as another group of rescuers busted through the doors. He quickly followed with two other nurses to the stretchers.
“Junn Tangsakultham, 24-year-old, landmine blast. Barely conscious, multiple lacerations, heavy breathing, BP 90 over 60, pulse 120. Two IV lines in, one liter saline running. Oxygen mask on, sat 88%!” The paramedic called while rushing in.
The doctor was pulling his gloves in place as he spoke, “Airway clear? Suction him—keep that oxygen mask on. Prep for intubation if his sats drop.”
Dylan’s hands worked with precision—the kind that one can only obtain from working sixteen hours a day. Tens of soldiers in critical condition passed through his arms daily.
“Still breathing on his own. Labored but holding,” he replied to the doctor after finishing suction.
“Good, what’s his GCS?”
He kneeled beside Jun, checking his eyes, asking questions. As he applied pressure to his hand, Jun groaned faintly, trying to pull away, opening his eyes briefly.
“GCS 9, still responsive to pain.”
"He's still with us. Keep fluids running, apply pressure dressings. I want a FAST scan now, check for internal bleeding."
Ultrasound rolled in. Tech quickly runed a probe over Jun’s abdomen and chest.
“No free fluid. No obvious internal bleeding.”
"Alright. Chest sounds diminished, but he's got air entry. Could be mild blast lung. Get a chest X-ray to confirm. For now, keep him on high-flow oxygen."
“Understood.”
surface trauma. Comtrol bleeding, monitor him. no life-threatening damage. He’s stable.
Jun barely opened his eyes before closing them shut again. His ears were ringing, the explosion still resonating in his head. He felt like he had been hit by a truck—twice, to finish him off.
He felt hot, his skin burned. The barely functioning fan somewhere in the corner did more of a ruckus than fanning.
The continuous rustling of a cloth, distant voices, and endless cries of pain made it impossible for him to stay still. He popped one eye open—all limbs intact. That’s good.
The sheet felt rough against the side of his wrist. A hiss escaped his mouth as he tried to move, the friction burning his strained nerves.
“Easy now. You’re in a hospital. Can you hear me?” Jun’s hazy eyes fell on the nurse standing next to his bed, a record in his hand. The bangs of his silver hair were slightly ruffled, probably from running his fingers through them too many times. Sharp eyes scanned Jun’s face, full lips slightly agape. He couldn’t tell if the meds were messing with him.
“If I’m not dead why’s there an angel standing next to my bed?” his voice was hoarse, in desperate need of water.
All learned professional care fell from the nurse’s face. “Pepper, we have one ready for discharge.” Jun was too dazed to notice the other at first, but he caught the way the second nurse smiled teasingly—which only pushed him for more.
“Don’t be so rough, babe. It doesn’t suit you.”
Actually, it suited him a lot. Hell, anything would look good on
Dylan.
Jun’s eyes scanned over the tag hanging around his neck. What a pretty name.
Dylan was now checking his vitals, pretending he didn’t hear the last sentence that fell from Jun’s mouth. However, the slight tick of his eyebrows gave him away. Watching these micro reactions stirred something inside of Jun. The corners of his lips tugged upwards. Just as Dylan finished, he turned on his heel to leave with the other nurse—Pepper.
Now when he was all alone, exhaustion washed over him. Jun closed his eyes with a deep exhale, pain following. And then everything went black.