A/N: This is for Kathryn84. It is not finished, but I have enough written that I wanted to start posting. That's about all I can say without giving away any of the story. Disclaimer and requests will be at the end...whenever I find it.
Set: Christmas S3. Assume canon until this point.
Thanks to my fabulous beta, IolantheAlias!
*****
House Is Where the Hurt Is (1/?)
by amberlea
The unholy shriek of metallic destruction hung in the air for long moments.
Then, as if on cue, the chaos erupted.
He was one of the first volunteers on the scene, just as an unhelpful sun was setting behind a curtain of smoke in a crimson sky. Taking advantage of the remaining vestiges of light, the volunteers memorized the scene, knowing they might well have to work in the dark until lights could be set up. The unfortunate side effect of this strategy was that the volunteers memorized the scene.
A couple dozen rescued victims later, night had fallen and trained first responders had begun the process of prying the scene from the jaws of entropy.
The darkness of the Indian countryside at night alternated with the erratic flashing of the combined beacons from numerous emergency vehicles. The pulsating effect was enough to be paralyzing, should one stop to consider it. But that was not an option. The only option was to keep moving, keep searching, keep listening for one more cry, one more plea, one more rustle of movement that meant that one more person was still alive and in need of help.
He kept searching, moving at an almost inhuman pace, with superhuman determination that set his face into a mask of stone. He could not allow himself to process the sensory input any more than was necessary to locate the next survivor.
He continued to deliver victims to the triage site at a rate with which the medical personnel could barely keep up. Despite their best efforts, he refused to slow down or take a moment to drink a bottle of water.
He did not stop until well into the next morning, when he placed one of the last victims onto a waiting gurney, then turned and collapsed.
“Doctor!” shouted the nearest Red Cross nurse as she knelt over him, deftly swinging her stethoscope around her head and into place in her ears.
Dr. Ramesh Patel reached the nurse's side in a few long strides and crouched down. “What happened?”
“He brought in that survivor, then he just collapsed. His pulse is normal, but he has a fever.”
Dr. Patel readied his own stethoscope as he queried, “Do we know his name?”
“I don't.” The nurse glanced around and spotted another Red Cross worker. “Annie, do you know this man's name?”
On her way from one task to another, Annie took a quick look over Dr. Patel's shoulder. “That's Adam. He's been here since last night. One of the first to arrive, I think.” By the time she finished speaking, she was halfway across the shelter and focused on another task without missing a beat.
Dr. Patel reached into his pocket for his penlight. “He's probably just dehydrated and exhausted.” He clicked on the light and moved to pull open Adam's eyelid.
Suddenly Adam jerked and snatched Dr. Patel's arm away from his face, panic clear in his eyes.
Dr. Patel rocked back on his heels and put his other arm up in the air. “Whoa, calm down, Adam. You collapsed. I was just checking on you.”
“Who growing under?” Adam's voice was hoarse but still intense. He released Dr. Patel's arm.
Surprise crossed Dr. Patel's expression and made him pause before he asked, “Adam?”
“Who growing under?” Adam repeated forcefully.
Ignoring Adam, Dr. Patel brought his penlight back up and began to examine Adam's eyes. “How hard did he fall? Did he hit anything on the way down?”
“No,” answered the nurse quickly, “no, he just sort of crumpled onto the floor as he turned around.”
“Sky bleed for met under. Where car plus steeple clapped!” Adam began to sit up in an attempt to stand up, but Dr. Patel put a firm hand on his shoulder.
“Adam. Adam!” he repeated, trying to get his attention. “Adam, you're not well. You can't go back out there. You need to get to a hospital yourself.”
“Snow! Where car plus steeple. Sky bleed for kelp!” As he spoke, he pushed away the doctor and the nurse as if they were nothing more than bothersome flies and got to his feet. He did not make it fully upright before his leg convulsed and he sat back down heavily.
“Adam,” Dr. Patel spoke quietly but insistently, repeating his earlier words. “You can't go back out there. You aren't well. I'm going to see about sending you back to the U.S. to see a specialist. I'm concerned about you.” Turning to the nurse, he requested, “Could you send Annie over here? I need to get this man back to the States.” The nurse nodded and jumped up to find the logistics coordinator. His attention back on Adam, he started to explain. “Adam, it looks like you have aphasia – the words you think you're saying are not the words coming out of your mouth.”
Adam's only response was a look that managed surprise, confusion, and concern all at once. He started to open his mouth to ask a question, then thought twice about it, the doctor's words becoming more real to him.
Within moments, the extraordinarily efficient Annie had made it back to Adam and inquired about the needs of six other survivors on the way. At this point, Adam and Dr. Patel had become just another rock around which the stream of Red Cross workers and other volunteers flowed, working unceasingly.
“How can I help you, Dr. Patel?” Annie asked.
“I need to send Adam back to the States. He's suffering from some sort of head trauma that we aren't going to be able to help him with. I need to send him to a specialist I know.”
Know of, Dr. Patel corrected mentally.
“Okay,” Annie said, thoughtfully but without hesitation. Anyone who looked at her countenance could practically see her plugging in the variables to her mental logistics formulation. “Adam, do you have friends or family that you need to contact before we get you out of here?”
Adam shook his head, not daring to speak for fear of what might come out.
All business, Annie gave a quick nod of her head and started issuing orders. “Dr. Patel, if you and Nurse Jenna could get Adam ready to fly, I'll arrange his transportation next time Superman comes through here. Does that work, Dr. Patel?”
“Yes, Annie, thank you.” At that, Annie was off to the next pressing matter. Nurse Jenna moved away to prepare some paperwork for Adam to take to the specialist.
Dr. Patel had not missed the startled look on Adam's face when transportation via Superman was mentioned. “Adam, are you okay with Superman taking you back to the United States? It really is your best option.”
Adam's hesitation was obvious, but after a moment, he nodded affirmatively. His entire demeanor became one of quiet acceptance.
Dr. Patel regarded Adam curiously, but his attention quickly shifted when a slight breeze blew through the makeshift shelter. Though he was from the U.S., and even currently resided in Metropolis, he had never before seen Superman in person. Despite the dirt and grime that covered his suit, Superman was still a sight to behold.
After gently placing another survivor on a gurney, Superman strode to where Annie was working. Though he could not hear their conversation from where he was, it was clear to Dr. Patel that Annie had no qualms about ordering Superman around, albeit in a polite fashion. All of the survivors had been rescued, and through the heroic efforts of the first volunteers – Adam included – the only victims were those killed initially in the train crash.
Annie gestured in the direction of Dr. Patel and Adam as she spoke to Superman, and Dr. Patel surmised that she was kicking his blue behind out of the disaster scene and asking him to take Adam with him. Suddenly, he heard a dull thud behind him.
“Adam!” Dr. Patel swung around to find Adam unconscious on the ground. His sense of urgency for his patient growing exponentially, Dr. Patel called out for Superman. He arrived as Dr. Patel was beginning a check of Adam's vitals.
“How can I...” Superman's question began businesslike, then trailed off.
Without so much as a glance at the superhero, Dr. Patel began to recite the pertinent details. “This is Adam. He was one of the first at the scene last night. He collapsed about 15 minutes ago...but all of the medical observations are in the notes I need you to take with you. Adam needs to be taken to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. When you arrive, ask for Dr. Allison Cameron. Tell her that Dr. Ramesh Patel sent you. Time is of the essence. He's getting worse.”
When Superman did not respond, Dr. Patel finally stopped to look at him. “Superman?” he questioned.
With a slight shake of his head, Superman responded, but a shocked look remained on his face. “I'm sorry.” He blinked once and focused a clear gaze on the doctor. “Princeton-Plainsboro. Ask for Dr. Allison Cameron. You, Dr. Ramesh Patel, sent us.”
“And hurry, Superman. Is something wrong?” Dr. Patel asked as he took the medical notes from Nurse Jenna.
“No, no, nothing's wrong.” Superman took the notes and tucked them into a hidden pocket in the back of his suit. He crouched down to pick up Adam as gingerly as possible. “It's just that I know this man.” Superman paused, as if debating whether to say more. “I didn't expect to see him here. Is that all I need to know, Dr. Patel?” Superman asked as he prepared to take off.
“That's it, Superman. Thank you for your help.”
“Thank you, Dr. Patel.” With that, Superman and an unconscious Adam took to the skies.
*****
to be continued
