#'it feels like grabbing the third rail' [of a train track that is electrified]

[howlsnteeth]

personal piece. i've struggled with depression, apathy and disassociation for most of my life, and struggled with emotional regulation. more often than not, any "positive" experiences become Too Much and leaves me in extreme physical discomfort. it hurts to be happy doing something i enjoy. this year i went to the lunar new year festival and had experiences that left me feeling both wonderfully alive, and in pain, burning alive. all i could really keep repeating to myself was "this too, is being alive".

[blaiddraws]

Whumptober day 10: Taser

technically not taser but electricity counts. anyway have an little fic.

Fun fact! I have been formally trained in emergency medical aid. but also that was nearly ten years ago, so.

any inaccuracies can be contributed to unreliable narrator, different world, and suspension of disbelief lskdjflksdjflkjf

Read under the readmore, or on ao3 at the link above

It should have been a normal day. 

It was, at first. 

Ingo and Emmet had just gotten off the Multi-Battle line and were directing passengers as the two of them waited for the next train. It was unusually busy for the middle of the week, packed full of people, but nothing the Subway Bosses couldn’t handle.

Ingo checked the time with a quick snap of his wrist. Just over three minutes until the next train arrived. He nudged his brother, to make sure he was aware of the time as well, and turned his eyes to scan over the crowds. 

For as chaotic as the crowd was there was a certain beauty to it as well. They ebbed and flowed like water currents, small eddies at the edges, and a powerful riptide that would draw you in if you weren’t careful at the highest traffic areas. 

And because of this, it was easy to spot a disruption in the current.

An unruly passenger, face hidden by a hoodie, pushing and shoving their way through the people without a care for the wellbeing of others, making a direct path towards the Subway Bosses. Ingo’s frown deepened, and he took a subtle step forward and motioned with one arm to a nearby depot agent. Expect trouble. 

To his surprise, the stranger completely ignored him, stepping past him to stand directly in front of Emmet, swaying slightly. A drunk passenger, then? Their words were slurred and nearly unintelligible as they began to shout at his brother, and his frown grew deeper even more. 

Emmet shot him a panicked, confused look, unsure what to do. He would normally try to talk with the person, but their words were so slurred he could not even hope to understand what they were saying. 

As Ingo stepped forward, mouth opening to begin to interrupt, the passenger suddenly lunged forward, shoving their arms into Emmet’s chest and sending him stumbling backwards. He managed to catch himself before he reached the yellow line, but the stranger lunged forward again, just barely slipping past Ingo’s own grasp, and shoved Emmet further.

Ingo gave up trying to apprehend the passenger, and instead ran forward to attempt to prevent his brother from falling.

He was certain he would have reached him, if it weren't the sudden tightening of fabric around his neck as the stranger grabbed onto the back of his coat. His momentum caused him to choke, and when he felt the stranger just as quickly get wrenched away he didn’t even bother looking before he ran forward again.

He could only watch in horror as Emmet went over the edge of the platform, his own outreached arm only a moment too late to catch his brother as Emmet’s arms flailed. A moment too late, Ingo could see him attempt to push himself off the platform even as he fell, to jump past the often-fatal third rail.

The noise of the crowd was drowned out by the blood rushing in Ingo’s ears, as well as his own panicked shouting as he slammed onto the ground, barely even feeling the impact. 

But the visceral, horrifying shriek Emmet made, only to be cut short by his foot catching on the electrified rail, sent a cold terror through Ingo that settled in his stomach like a rock. 

As Emmet’s momentum sent him rolling over and to the other side of the tracks, miraculously pressed flat against the wall of the platform, it was all Ingo could do to hope and pray that Emmet somehow managed to survive. He could feel the vibrations of the train approaching, and as the horn blared and the headlights washed over his still-outstretched arm, he could only pull back. There was no time to grab his brother.

He was still laying on the ground as the train pulled through the station, and as it continued to move instead of stopping at the platform like it usually would, it was as if a bubble popped and he could hear the world around him again.

Several depot agents had pushed the crowd back, and Ingo could see the person who shoved Emmet being apprehended by others. Another was rushing to the main power supply, and the train finally came to a stop once it was almost fully past the platform. Giving access to Emmet’s prone body.

(“Under no circumstances should someone jump onto the tracks while the third rail is electrified. If there is someone in need of rescue, you must wait until the power has been turned off. You can’t help someone if you’re dead.”)

He scrambled back to his feet, heart racing. He could barely hold himself back from jumping onto the tracks, only until one of the depot agents gave the all-clear that the third rail was no longer electrified.

Without hesitation, he nearly leapt off the platform, skidding slightly as he landed on his knees next to his brother. His hands hovered over the man without touching him, shivering with a strange hesitation and terror. 

Emmet wasn’t breathing. (He hesitated, as he didn’t want to confirm that his brother was dead.) But not even a moment later, all of his first aid training came back and he grabbed Emmet’s neck to feel a pulse.

He let out a distressed whine when he couldn’t feel anything, but refused to let himself freeze up again. He just had to hold out until the paramedics arrived. 

("Chest compressions do not, despite contrary belief, artificially pump the heart. That being said, they do help blood flow in the body, even if we aren't sure how exactly it works.")

Quickly turning Emmet onto his back, Ingo placed his hands on his brother’s sternum and began to administer chest compressions. One, Two, Three, Four, pushing the chest up and down--

(“Remember, the most important thing about chest compressions is that you are helping blood flow to the vital organs. Do not be gentle because you are afraid of accidentally breaking a few ribs, as that blood flow is imperative to the person’s survival.”

Ingo, in the moment, hoped he never had to perform CPR on someone. The thought of accidentally harming a person, even if it was in an attempt to keep them alive, was nauseating. 

Emmet, sitting next to him, didn’t look any better than Ingo felt, face pale and hands shaking.)

Even as he felt a dull crack, he didn’t flinch, only continuing the chest compressions for a moment until he finished the count. Without hesitation, he removed his hands from Emmet’s chest and pinched the man’s nose and went in to give him a few breaths, before immediately returning to the chest compressions. 

("If you have to choose between chest compressions and breaths, choose the chest compressions. The blood flow is what gets the oxygen to your organs, after all, and filling someone's lungs with air will not achieve much of anything without it.")

He continued this cycle for what felt like eternity, yet only moments, before startling back into awareness by a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

("All of this training is for emergencies only. You are not medical professionals. Once the paramedics, or other professionals, arrive on the scene, take a step back and let them work.")

He flinched, only to look up at the kind face of one of the paramedics, others gathering around Emmet and preparing to lift him onto a stretcher. He didn’t even notice the defibrillator until they were putting it away and pulling emmet out from the tracks.

Dully, Ingo let them do their jobs, though he followed closely behind as they brought his brother through the platform. 

As they ushered him into the ambulance, he realized with a rush of intense relief that Emmet’s chest was moving on its own, falling from the high of his adrenaline so fast it left him reeling, almost detached from reality. 

His ears began to ring, and he grew cold, only understanding what was happening as a darkness tugged at the edges of his vision. He managed to get one paramedic’s attention only a moment before he felt his head loll forward and the darkness dragged him into the depths of unconsciousness.