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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years ago

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Crisis Redo Pt 16

Lillian skids to her knees in the pool of blood surrounding her daughter's limp form. The back of Lena's white coat is a swathe of red, perforated by at least two small bullet holes.

"Lena, sweetheart, can you hear me?" Lillian forces her voice into a semblance of calm, even as her heart races with panic. When she receives no response, she lets her medical training take over.

She feels for a pulse and finds one, faint and fluttering unsteadily. Pulling the Hermes scarf from her neck, Lillian shoves it against the wounds in Lena's back, applying pressure to the source of the bleeding. Only then does she feel the laborious pull of Lena's breath, crackling with every shallow inhalation.

Perforated lung, Lillian catalogues.

Putting all her weight against Lena's back, Lillian shifts one hand free to fish out her cellphone, tapping out 911 with bloodied fingers.

"We need an ambulance at the Willow Creek Medical Center," she states as soon as the emergency operator answers the call. "Dr. Lena Walsh has been shot."

---

As Kara passes Willow Creek's welcome sign, a sense of peace washes over her. It's been a long week in National City, and her exhaustion runs bone deep, in no small part to the fact she'd solar flared just that morning. Alex had told her to rest at home, but Kara had instead left early for Willow Creek, eager to see Lena again.

Things have been steady the past few weeks, things have felt good. Which meant maybe, just maybe, they were ready to finally have their talk. And once they had the talk, as rough as it would be, well-- maybe there was light after the tunnel after all.

On a whim, Kara bypasses the lot for the B&B and keeps going. Lena hasn't responded to her most recent text, a surefire sign that Lena's working late. Intent on surprising Lena at the clinic, Kara drives through the town's center, taking the familiar route to the medical center.

But Kara's sense of peace evaporates when she spots the expensive town car waiting in the parking lot.

Lillian.

Kara slams her car into park and stumbles out of the vehicle, racing up the steps into the building. Whatever she expects to find, its not the sight of Lillian kneeling over Lena's unresponsive body.

"Lena!"

Lillian's head snaps up at Kara's shout, and Kara's heart stops at the fear she finds on the woman's face.

"Help me," Lillian ordered, her voice betraying none of the fear visible in her eyes.

Snapping out of her shock, Kara bolts to Lena's side, staring at the gray pallor of Lena's cheeks and the blue tinge around her lips.

"What--?"

"The ambulance is fifteen minutes out," Lillian informs her. Only then does Kara see the smudged phone by Lillian's knee, displaying an active call with 911. Lillian's voice lowers. "Can you take her?"

Kara blinks, and a beat passes before the question's meaning registers through her shock. "N-no," Kara stutters. "I--"

Lillian huffs and turns away, disinterested in whatever explanation Kara has to offer. Kara's mind races.

"We can meet them halfway--"

"Yes, let's take her from a fully stocked medical center so she die in a car on some dark back road in the middle of nowhere," Lillian snarls. She jerks her chin towards one of the rolling carts against the wall. "There are banadages in there. Get them. Gauze, pads, anything you can find."

Kara staggers to her feet, obeying without question. There's no suspicion in her mind, no thought besides saving Lena. She yanks open drawers and paws through them, piling the bandages in her arms before returning to Lillian. The packaged gauze tumbles to the floor, and Kara tears into them, handing the gauze squares to Lillian without a word.

Lillian's scarf remains where it is-- ruined and soaked with blood. Kara sees it pulse faintly as blood continues to ooze from the wound, as Lena's heart slowly pumps the blood from her body. Lillian piles the gauze on top of the scarf, continuing to apply heavy pressure.

When there is no more gauze to open, Kara stares, her heart climbing in her throat. Lena has yet to open her eyes, or respond. The only movement is the jostle of Lillian shifting her weight to add more bandages. It's like... Lena's already...

Suddenly, panic lances through Kara's chest as she sees the blue around Lena's lip swiftly darken. Leaning forward, she listens to Lena's mouth and nose, and freezes.

"Lillian-- she-- she's not breathing!" Kara gasps.

Lillian curses, shoving Kara out of the way to listen for herself. She takes the moment to feel for a pulse as well, and from the way the woman's features turn ashen, Kara knows she doesn't find one.

"Find the defibrillator," Lillian orders, not taking her gaze off Lena as she turns her daughter over and clears her airway. When Kara hesitates, she snaps. "Now!"

Heart pounding, Kara staggers to her feet, and scans the room for a crash cart. She only knows what they look like on tv, and nothing in the room looks remotely-- her eyes catch on a portable defibrillator mounted to the wall.

Kara tears it free and rushes back to Lillian, who has already begun administering chest compressions. Closing her ears to the sound of bone breaking, Kara scrambles to unzip the case.

"Quickly," Lillian huffs. Sweat pours down her face, dripping from the tip of her nose to get lost in the blood under her hands. Wisps of disturbed hair have come loose from their style, framing Lillian's face, ignored. "Remove the plastic from the pads. Place one here, upper left chest, and the other lower right chest, against the ribs."

Kara has to tear Lena's blouse to get to her skin. Theres too much blood-- the pads won't adhere unless... Kara spots a roll of blood-spotted paper towels off to one side. She lunges for them, ripping off broad swathes of towels to wipe Lena's skin dry. When the pads are adhered in place, Kara looks to Lillian.

"What next?" She asks.

Lillian doesn't answer. Pausing her compressions abruptly, she bends low over Lena's head, pinching her daughter's nose and sealing her mouth around Lena's. She breathes into Lena's lungs, watching carefully as Lena's chest rises in response. She waits a moment, then delivers another rescue breath.

"Turn on the machine," Lillian utters then. "Let it search for a rhythm."

They both watch the screen's readout with bated breath, praying for the machine to find the flutter. Kara knows that if there is no fibrillation... then Lena is too far gone.

Finally, the machine beeps, and a message flashes on the screen.

Shock

"Keep clear," Lillian warns, already pulling away from Lena. Kara makes sure no part of her is touching Lena, then presses the button.

With a sharp whine from the machine, Lena's body convulses once. Kara waits as the machine analyzes Lena's rhythm once more.

Resume CPR, the screen tells them.

Lillian swallows audibly, but quickly gets back into position. As she drives her hands against Lena's chest over and over, counting steadily, all Kara can do is stare through her tears.

"How long...?" Kara asks, so quiet she's not sure Lillian hears.

"As long as it takes," comes the breathless response. Lillian gazes at Lena's face. "My daughter is not dying tonight."

After two minutes, Lillian has Kara press the analyze button again. Again, shock is emblazoned on the screen. This time, after Lena's body spasms, a different message marches across the screen.

Heartbeat detected

Kara gasps in a sob of relief, but Lillian doesn't relax. "She's loosing too much blood. If her pressure drops any lower we'll lose her again."

"What do we do?"

"Watch her," Lillian orders, climbing to her feet. "Make sure she keeps breathing."

Kara shuffles closer on her knees, clasping Lena's bloody hand tightly. She watches the faint rise and fall of Lena's chest, the quiet crackle of breath that comes and goes. Behind her, Lillian moves with efficiency and precision, tugging open drawers and rifling through cabinets.

She returns with an IV tube, butterfly needle, and bag of saline. Tearing into the packages with trembling fingers, Lillian swiftly assembles the IV and presses the needle into the back of Lena's hand. She secures the needle with a strip of medical tape then attaches the bag, quickly releasing the drip so that the fluid can enter Lena's system.

All the while, Kara kneels and waits, searching for any sign of life in Lena's features. She finds none, but clings to the flutter of a pulse at Lena's wrist.

Suddenly, bodies burst through the front door, announcing the arrival of the paramedics. Kara jumps at the intrusion-- she hadn't even heard the sirens. But Lillian quickly begins conveying information.

"Two gunshot wounds through the back, CPR was administered for roughly five minutes..."

Large men gently edge Kara out of the way. Reluctantly releasing her hold on Lena's hand, she steps back to let them work.

"She may have hit her head," Lillian finishes, prompting the paramedics to fit a cervical collar around Lena's neck, stablizing her spine in case of damage. Kara watches, stunned. She hasn't even considered a head injury.

Separated from Lena, the rumble of voices fades to a blur in Kara's ears. She watches as they fit an oxygen mask over Lena's mouth and nose, and carefully but quickly apply further dressings to the wound in her chest.

"The police will need to speak with you," the lead paramedic tells them as they load Lena onto a stretcher.

Kara barely hears him, but Lillian bristles. "They can talk to me at the hospital," she returns sharply. "Where are you taking her?"

"Aurora Regional is closest."

Lillian nods. "Very well."

Without a second look to Kara, Lillian brushes past the cops finally arriving on the scene and follows the stretcher out to the curb.

Kara follows close on her heels, but doesn't fully shake from her stupor until she hears a familiar voice cry out from the small crowd gathering at the edge of the police tape being strung up around the property.

"Lena? Lena! That's my daughter-- let me through that's my daughter!!"

In the strobing flash of the ambulance and police cars, Kara sees Elizabeth pushing through the crowd, her eyes mad with desperation. But the paramedics move too quickly, loading Lena into the ambulance and shutting the doors with a thud before pulling away with a wail of sirens.

Kara walks towards Elizabeth on wooden legs, her ears muffled with shock. Lizzie sees her, and reacts.

"Kara! Kara!" Lena's mother pushes past the restraining arms of the patrol officer warding off the crowd, all but sprinting towards Kara. She grabs Kara by the arms, all but shaking her as she stares, eyes wild and tearful. "What happened?! What's going on?! Is she--"

"She's alive," Kara chokes out. She forces herself to breathe, but each inhalation feels like knives in her chest. "She's alive. They're taking her to Aurora--"

"What happened?" Lizzie demands.

Kara blinks, and her tears spill over. Her hands come up to grip Elizabeth's, and that's when she notices the blood on her hands.

She's covered with it, covered with Lena's blood.

"She-- she was shot--"

"Oh my god," Elizabeth utters, low and keening. She folds at the waist, struggling to breathe, but when Kara helps her up, her head shakes no. "We-- we have to go--"

She's in no state to drive. Neither is Kara. Her hands shake, and her vision feels like it's narrowed.

"We'll take you," comes an unexpected voice. Both Kara and Lizzie turn to see Lillian at the edge of the parking lot, her tall, impeccable figure stained with blood.

Kara hears Lizzie's breath strangle to a whine at the sight of it.

"Neither of you are fit to drive," Lillian declares when they hesitate. "Get in."

Lillian has a driver, impartial and ignorant to what's just occurred. It makes sense, and is likely the quickest way to the hospital, to Lena. For a moment, Kara's feet remain rooted to the ground, before her heart overrides her apprehension.

Taking Elizabeth by the hand, she steps forward with a nod of gratitude. Silently, all three of them pile into the town car, knowing that their night is only just beginning.

#supercorp #crisis redo #life saving measures #as interpreted by me #someone who is not a medical professional or first responder #any mistakes are my own #angst #pls keep in mind im writing this on my phone at work btwn tasks #so it might be rough #but here yah go

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