Sebastian Stan Imagines

As Long As You're Alive | Chris Beck

Warning: may be a bit gruesome for some readers. For those that hate blood, you should probably not read.

There. I warned you. I am therefore not responsible if any of ysa'll get a heart attack.

:D

The red alert rang through the Hermes, startling you on the treadmill.

You hopped off the machine, turning to the large monitor in the room, and wiping the sweat off your forehead. You connected the video and audio to the rec room. "Guys? What's going on? Did we drift off course?"

Johanssen ran into frame, panting heavily, blood on her sleeves. "(Y/N). We need you in the medical area. He was doing an EVA to replace the ventilation system with the spare, and was struck by debris when he pushed it away and remotely detonated it. It was an error in the calculations, the ventilator detonated too early. He's bleeding badly."

She didn't even finish her last sentence before you were running off to the ladder and climbing up it, pushing yourself up as soon as the artificial gravity couldn't affect you anymore. You realized Johanesson didn't even say his name. But with the urgent way she spoke, as if you were the only one who was left to do the surgery, you immediately knew what happened.

You pushed off towards the medical bay, setting your feet down once you could feel the effect of gravity, and jogged off to the room.

The door slammed open, and every single member of the crew was frantically pacing around the room. Lewis and Martinez were holding the wound down with gauze. Johanssen was contacting NASA through a research computer in the corner. Vogel and Mark were searching the cabinets for more bandages and gauze. You pulled your lab coat on from a hanger in the corner of the room where it was hanging next to Chris', taking a hairnet and a face mask from an abandoned cart in the middle of the room.

Chris was laying on the table, groaning at the feeling of the cloth gauze probing his wound. Sliding on the lab coat to cover your workout clothes, you gently pushed Lewis out of the way. "What the hell happened?"

"The explosion happened early. He was nearly in A1 when he turned around. It hit him while he was still in the suit. Vogel closed the airlock and got him out of there."

You pulled the soaking bandages out of the way and studied Chris' wound, cringing at the sight. A twisted piece of metal was jammed into his bare torso, jut missing his lungs. The skin was jagged, and torn where the metal was, and it was bleeding profusely.

"Chris, baby. I need to pull this out right now. I can give you a little anesthesia, but I can't let it settle, because you'll bleed out by then, okay?" You were nearly in tears.

He groaned and nodded, gripping the edges of the examination table, the other hand fisted into the fabric of your lab coat. He probably already knew exactly what to do. But you knew your voice would give him an anchor, something to keep him awake even though the blood rushed from his brain and the pain threatened to knock him out.

You grabbed two needles, one of penicillin and a bit of a numbing solution, and the other a tetanus shot. You could tell this operation was going to hurt, as just the tiny prick of the two needles cause him to grunt in pain. His body was rushing with endorphins but the pains was still so intense that he reacted violently to any stimuli.

Mark sunk into the corner, covering his face and mumbling something about memories. You would get to him later, as the psychologist of the group.

You grabbed a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on quickly. You kissed Chris's forehead, wiping away the sweat with the sleeve of your coat. "Sweetie, this is gonna hurt. I need you to hold Lewis' hand while I do this, okay?"

You pulled your dog tags off from your days as a captain in the Air Force, and held them up to his eyes so he could see. "Bite on this so you don't hurt your tongue."

You placed it against his lips and took Melissa's hand, placing it in Chris'.

Grabbing a tool, you gently moved the flesh from the metal as Chris squirmed and cried out. The anesthetic was barely given any time to spread and therefore barely had any effect. Lewis and Martinez had to hold him down as you worked on his torso, wiping away the tears that feel down your cheeks with your sleeves before they could fall onto his skin.

Vogel dropped gauze on the table, pulling some gloves on and wiping away the blood as it dropped from the wound. He glanced up at a monitor that Johannsen had dragged nearby. "Blood pressure dropping. Heart rate increasing. (Y/N), you better hurry."

You spoke in shuddering breaths, motioning to Lewis and Martinez. "Hold him down harder. This isn't gonna be pretty. Vogel, you got the bandages ready?"

He nodded once, and you took a deep breath.

Using two fingers, you pulled at the twisted piece of metal, desperately trying to ignore Chris' screams before they could distract you and make you falter, or worse: push the metal even farther into his skin.

Once the metal was out, you checked for more before setting the twisted piece onto the table. "Mark g-grab me the stapler in the cabinet to your right," you asked, not looking up.

Soon later, a medical stapler was placed into your hands and you stapled the open pieces of flesh together, later wrapping Chris' entire torso in bandages (with a lot of help from Lewis and Vogel).

You finally took a deep breath, pulling off your gloves and stumbling back until you hit the wall of the lab. You dropped the gloves somewhere on the ground and sank to the floor against the wall, your hands covering your eyes.

Your hands were shaking, much like the rest of your body. You ripped the face mask from your mouth and nose, and pulled the hairnet off, discarding them somewhere off to the side. Your heart was racing and a sheen of sweat had covered your forehead—whether that was from your workout or the impromptu surgery, you didn't know.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked up to see Johanssen holding up a hand for you. You gratefully took it, standing up with great difficulty, and walked over to the bed they had moved him into. Everyone had left the room and someone had even set a stool next to the table for you. You waited until you heard the door click shut, easing yourself into the squeaky lab stool next to the table.

"C-Chris?" Your hand intertwined with his, which he brought to his lips.

"Y-yeah. I'm okay. I'm sorry you had to do that."

His hand fell to his chest, bringing yours along with it. You paused, feeling his heart beating under your hand and the labored rise and fall of his chest.

"As long as you're alive," you breathed out. "I'll do anything for you."