milliways_bar | Special Delivery from FentonWorks! (AKA. The BRAWL!)

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Special Delivery from FentonWorks! (AKA. The BRAWL!)

"Maddie! Bring my fudge down when you come!"

You hear that bellow? It's coming from the Door which has just swung open on a set of stairs. At the top, you might glimpse bits of living room furnature...but not for long. The view is quickly blocked by a large, orange object which barrels down the stairs and into Milliways. As it skids to a stop, you can see it's a rather large, jumpsuit-clad human. A very shocked, larged, jumpsuit-clad human.

He stares for a moment, wheels in his head audibly grinding.

"GALLOPING GHOSTS! MADDIE! THE LAB'S BEEN COMPROMISED!"

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George just snarks a laugh, one that causes him to gasp and nearly find the floor with his arse again. He grabs at his left side and breaths in deep gasps. "Oh, yes ma'am. Lots of things cracked when the 300 pound tub of fucking lard just kinda landed on me."

Turning brown eyes up to Father Mulcahy he tries to laugh but again ends up winceing. "Great sense of humor she has, Father."

"I'm not a doctor, but it sounds like at least some cracked ribs," he says, worriedly, glancing to Sally.

Sally's used to people who can throw themselves out of buildings, or endure crushing blows and G-forces, or get trapped in massive explosions and emerge alive. She makes a mental note that she's dealing with a baseline, here.

"At least," she agrees. "If he's baseline, and that guy landed on him with the force that it sounds like he did. No doubt some pretty bad bruising and general soft tissue damage, as well." She looks at George again.

"I'd like to see someone give you a thorough going over in the infirmary. Are you having any numbness or tingling? You can still seem to move everything, so that's a plus."

Even if the guy can't really stand up on his own, being able to make the effort is a good sign.

"I jump from airplanes, lady. This ain't nothin.." Well, it's not the same thing but George just doesn't care. He's hurting. "Ask me that again when nothing is throbing with pain, okay?"

Winceing again as he takes a deep breath Luz starts to try to haul himself to his feet. Paratroopers can take more than this, he keeps telling himself.

Father Mulcahy takes his arm quickly, to help him, if he'll be able to make it. "Easy does it, son. This is Doctor Po, by the way. Doctor Po, George."

Sally goes for the other arm. "George," she says politely in acknowledgment of the introduction, ignoring the fact that he called her "lady."

"You may jump from airplanes, but in my army, that's generally something done with a parachute, and you don't land sandwiched between a 300-pound man and the floor. So unless bad landings are a habit of yours and trauma like this is an everyday occurrence..."

She shakes her head. In her experience, paratroopers who make bad landings generally only do so on their last one.

"At any rate, throbbing with pain is a better state right now than not being able to feel anything. As long as you can still feel your extremities, you should be okay in the long run. I don't suspect you'd incur any organ damage, unless the guy drove into you elbow-first."

"Only if Captain Sobel is involved." With Mulcahy's help up he all but tries not to lean into the smaller man, but it's really hard.

"I don't know how he landed on me just he landed on me," George whines, nearly doubling over again the longer he's standing. "I just know I heard lots of things pop and it really fucking hurts.."

Mulcahy nods grimly, patting his shoulder. "Should we be going to the infirmary?" he asks Sally, prepared to defer to her expertise in any and all situations.

"With all possible haste," Sally replies. "There's nothing immediately life-threatening, but I'd like to see him in a bed and bandaged up before he ends up with a punctured lung, or something. One good hit from someone else involved in this mess, and things could go south quickly."

She looks at George, supporting the side opposite Mulcahy. "Do you feel up to walking it, or do you want a stretcher or something?" She's known enough military guys from her own world to ask, because half of the time, they object so strenuously to help that they'd get hurt more if she tried to get them onto a litter than if she let them walk with a bit of help.

"I can walk it.." George says between short breaths. Taking a few steps away from the Padre and Sally he stops slideing down into the nearest chair and holding his side.

"Maybe..not..it's hard to..breath.." His eyes almost cross for a moment but he squints his eyes shut. "Stretcher.."

Father Mulcahy glances at Sally, quick and practical. "They ought to have one in the infirmary, don't you think?"

"Unless they're woefully unprepared." Sally's keeping a close eye on George. "Father, would you mind getting one? I don't think they'd object, and I'd like to keep an eye on him if he's having difficulty breathing. I can help you carry him up once we get him loaded onto it."

"I'll be right back," he promises, and he scurries away to the infirmary.

Raising his left hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, the radioman takes short deep and painful breaths. "Had..these before...when I was a kid." Trying to laugh causes George to pale a lot.

"Just got lucky through jump school.." Once his hand is lowered he offers it to Sally. "Sergeant George Luz, Easy Company 506th...1944.."

"You're not kidding, about that getting lucky." Sally shakes his hand, gently. "Doctor Sally Po, Command Division, Medical and Intelligence, Preventers. A.C. 198."

She takes a chair nearby; she'll let him talk, for now. Conversation may help distract him a bit.

Meanwhile there was a man carefully navigating his way through people fighting, and peering over at the man in the chair.

"Luz? That you? What happened?" He asked as he approached, after ducking around a random punch being thrown elsewhere.

"Nate," George says with a wince, half gasping for breath and looking rather worse for ware. "Always seem..to miss..the action don't..you?" He tries to laugh but it causes him to wince, nearly doubling over in pain.

"Fucker came into the bar..calling..us all ghosts and shit.." Then ha pauses, "tried to stop him and ended u-up having...a 300 pound man..kinda land on me.."

Nathan knelt down by him, and replied, "Gotta keep my numbers up with the voters. Can't afford to get this mug scarred." He joked back a little.

"Easy there, Luz. Sure Security'll be mopping him up soon." Silently wishing his brother was here, since he'd at least understand what to do.

He glanced over at Sally, "You're a doctor then?"

George open's his mouth to speak again but raises his left hand back to his eyes trying to get them to see straight again. It was becoming harder to breath and his head, well, it just didn't want to stay up.

"Yeah..guess that's...what you get when..you're...a politician...eh?"

Father Mulcahy returns, then, with a stretcher under his arm. "If someone will take the other end of this, we'll have you in the infirmary in a jiffy, George," he says.

Sally promptly takes hold of the other end. "Perfect timing, Father," she says, before looking to Nathan.

"Could you help George up, please? He's going to need some support."

Nathan nodded hurriedly, "Of course." He then went to help George up and on to the stretcher.

"All right, up you get. Come on, get to go on a nice ride."

"Nice...ride..my ass.." George says with a small laugh that turns into a very pained expression. His eyes close as he lays back into the stretcher and gasps for air. Gotta love rib injuries.

"Guess..I'm missin..the..jump tomorrow.."

"If time freezes for you while you're here, it ought to be fine," Father Mulcahy assures him, headed for the infirmary as quickly as he can while still keeping the stretcher steady.

Sally follows just as carefully. Ah, the joys of field situations.

"If it doesn't, however, then yes, you'll be missing the jump. Unless they've got someone here who can do a faster repair job than I've ever seen."

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cheerychaplain - 2007-05-11 03:49 (UTC) - Expand

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