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~ Samuel's Impact ~
prompt: field medicine/self first aid character: derek morgan warnings: guns, blood
"It's the FBI, Samuel, answer the door!" Derek shouts, the two of you standing on other sides of the door, holding your guns down. "I'll kick the door down and take the left, you take the right, like usual?" He looks over to you, raising his eyebrow and giving his usual smirk. You roll your eyes and nod, "Wouldn't want to break tradition, would we?" He lets out the smallest of laughs, trying to make the situation more humorous than it actual is.
Due to the unsub's capabilities, you wouldn't normally go just the two of you, but it was spur of the moment. "Don't you two go in there, I'm dispatching other agents to help you," Penelope exclaims into your ears, the new ear pieces needing some time to get used to, her worrying taking over. You look over at Derek and sigh, knowing that she worries a little too much occasionally. "Penelope, the unsub will be long gone by then," you then look towards the door, shouting to alert him once more, "Samuel, we're coming in!"
Derek steps back and kicks the door, one of the hinges break off. It squeaks as it moves on the one hinge. He walks into the room first, his gun pointed in front of him. "Hello?" Derek questions, looking to the left as you walk in behind him. You point your gun towards the right side of the room. "Check the bathroom and I'll check the kitchen," you instinctively instruct, moving slowly towards the kitchen cabinets. He gives you a quick but comforting, 'you got it.'
You pass the counters where two chairs sit, looking at the only place he could be hiding. Just in case, you open a few cabinets, leaving them open as you lower your gun. Instantly, three... no, four shots go off. Without warning someone shouts, everything suddenly moving in slow motion for you. You lower the gun to the ground and run for the bathroom. As you round the corner, you see blood splattered against the floor, leaking from the bathroom.
"Oh my god, Derek!" You shout, looking down at him, your eyes trailing from him to the perpetrator. Samuel is slumped on the ground, two shots to the heart. "y/n? Derek? What's happening??" Penelope's voice rings through your ears. You sit your gun into your holster, kneeling down to look at his leg that's bleeding. "Penelope.. Derek has been shot, as well as the unsub. We need an ambulance, I don't believe Samuel made it," you comment, tearing some of the fabric of Derek's jeans.
His leg is gushing of blood, a small chunk of flesh missing, the bullet hitting close to the edge. "Derek? I need you to stay awake buddy. You doing okay?" You question, looking around the bathroom for some fabric to tourniquet his leg. Derek lets out a small laugh, pained in nature, "You should see the other guy." Without even thinking about it, you roll your eyes. You slip off your jacket, wrapping it around his leg and pulling it tightly. He instantly takes a sharp breath in, the pain getting to him.
"Sorry, but despite the other guy being on the ground, you're not doing too good," you shake your head, taking the back of your hand to wipe your forehead. "y/n, first aid won't get there for another ten or so minutes, you have to slow the bleeding," Penelope reminds you, her voice somewhat shaking and worrisome. With a sigh and opening of the bathroom cabinets, you grab a thing of gauze and start to wrapping it over the wound.
Derek closes his eyes momentarily, trying to hide the amount of pain he's in. You look over at him, biting your lip for a second before returning, "We've got this, you're going to be okay Derek." He lets out some 'yeah right' and brings his hands up to his face, holding his palms against his eyes. Without thinking or hesitating, you grab one of his hands, moving it so you can see his face. "I know this is hurting, but you're going to be okay, I promise," you set the rest of the gauze aside, looking over at his face.
Despite the amount of pain he's most likely in, he gives you a smile, nodding, "I trust you." You smile back, feeling somewhat excited for a closer friendship with your co-workers, with Derek. The blood begins to quickly soak through the gauze. Meaning that either the tourniquet isn't working, or the unsub nicked a main artery, or both. You pull off the gauze and attempt to put more on, the injury losing a lot of blood in the process. "Penelope, where are we on the EMTs?" You question, looking down for a second, not being able to face Derek.
"They should be arriving in about four minutes now, is everything okay?" She questions, the distant sound of her fingers tapping away on her keyboard. While holding the gauze against his bullet wound, you take a sharp breath inwards, "It's bleeding so much. I don't know what to do Penelope. The bullet must of hit an artery or something." Not even realizing that Derek or Penelope could still hear you, you mutter how stupid you were for convincing the others that the two of you would be okay.
"Stop... I wanted to come in too... it's really not your fault y/n," Derek's hand reaches over to your knee, resting it there as his eyes close and open irregularly. You take one of your hands on and wrap it around his, squeezing it as you count down the time until the ambulance gets there. "Derek, don't try to pin this on yourself either, you hear me Derek? You hear me?" The question comes out seemingly like a statement, like you're pissed and needing every word to come out like that.
He smiles, something sounding like a laugh escaping his mouth. You roll your eyes, shaking your head. Penelope suddenly comes through your ears, "The EMTs are at the building, they should be on your floor in less than a minute." A weight lifts off your shoulders as loud shuffling occurs outside of the room, someone exclaiming that it was the EMTs, prepped and ready. "We're in here!" You shout, squeezing Derek's hand again, "You're going to be okay, okay? Everything's going to be alright."
