Chapter Text
A/N: I have been an EMT for several years and I’m currently in my last year of nursing school, so you can expect a pretty high level of medical accuracy in here!
Shout out to my fiancèe for being my idea generator and “alpha” reader (she demands and deserves a better title than beta)!
Enjoy your read 🥰
Chapter 1
One of the trail lights flickered on in soft intervals along the path, casting long amber bands across the trees. He followed the paved trail, lined with thick brush, neighborhood houses just beyond the treeline.
7:30 p.m.
The cut through the park was meant to be a shortcut home from the hospital, but he took the long way.
Robby walked with his hands in his jacket pockets, pace steady, shoulders finally starting to loosen after a fourteen-hour shift. Phantom chimes of monitors and alarms hid in the silence. He tried to focus on the gravel scraping under his shoes instead.
This was how he bled off the day.
He was halfway through the loop when he heard it.
Not a sob or a cry.
A small, strangled whimper.
He slowed immediately.
Maybe an animal?
But there it was again. Soft. Wet. Close. And decidedly human.
He turned toward the source, peering off the path, eyes adjusting to the darker patch between two light posts.
That’s when he saw her.
A small figure in the shallow dip off the trail.
A child.
Curled on her side. Pale skin caught in the light, the glint of fresh blood shining.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
He was moving before he consciously decided to—quick strides down the slope, pulse already climbing.
She couldn’t have been more than eight years old. Her eyes were open, roving over the leaves below her cheek. Thick streaks of blood ran from her temple, falling sideways over her forehead and into blonde curls. She cradled her right arm against her chest.
“Hey—”
He stopped short when her eyes snapped up to him.
And she screamed.
High. Raw. Immediate.
She scrambled backward across the leaves, trying to push herself away with one arm, the other still tucked tight into her chest.
He froze, hands lifting instinctively.
“Okay—okay.”
He backed up two full steps, lowering himself into a crouch, palms open.
She was breathing hard. Eyes wide and wild.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re okay. I’m not coming any closer.”
She didn’t respond, just stared.
“My name’s Robby. I’m a doctor.” He touched the badge clipped to his chest. “Can you tell me your name?”
For a moment, it looked like she might not reply at all. Her lips twitched once before any sound left them.
“Lucy.”
“Hi Lucy,” he smiled gently.
He glanced around. He expected to see a frantic parent running over or a panicked sibling hiding behind a tree.
“Is your mom here?”
She shook her head.
“Or another grown up? Your dad?”
That was the wrong question.
Her breathing picked up as she shook her head frantically, eyes growing wide.
“Okay, that’s okay,” he said quickly. “How old are you?”
“S-Seven.”
“Do you know where you are?”
She paused.
“I–I ran here.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “Do you know what day of the week it is?”
“Sunday. It’s always Sundays.”
His eyes sharpened. Correct but somehow wrong.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“I fell.”
“Alright. Does your chest hurt at all?” he asked, getting a shake of her head in reply. “Is it hard to breathe?”
“No.”
“Good. It looks like you hit your head pretty hard.”
“There’s blood,” she said distantly.
“Yeah, I see that. Would it be okay if I came a little closer to take a look?”
She nodded.
He moved slowly, keeping himself small, until he settled on his knees next to her.
“I’m just going to touch your head and feel for any bumps, okay?”
She nodded but flinched hard as he reached for her.
He stopped, hands frozen midair.
“Lucy.” He waited for her eyes to meet his. “I know you’re scared,” he told her, voice slow and soft. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”
She lifted the hand that cradled her arm.
“Pinky promise?” she whispered.
Her finger uncurled.
Robby swallowed.
“Pinky promise,” he replied with a small smile, hooking his pinky around hers.
Robby let go of her pinky slowly, careful not to jostle her arm.
“Okay, Lucy,” he said softly. “I’m going to check your head now. Tell me if anything hurts.”
He moved one hand to steady her head, the other parting her hair with slow, deliberate fingers. The laceration was along her left temple, linear, bleeding steadily but not spurting. Scalp wound. Dramatic. Not necessarily catastrophic. She sucked in a breath when his finger brushed too close.
“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly apologized, withdrawing.
He moved on, palpating carefully, watching her face more than his hands. No hematomas. No obvious depressions.
“Feel okay?” he asked.
She gave a small nod.
His fingers slid carefully to the midline of her cervical spine, pressing lightly along each vertebra. No step off. No tenderness.
“Good. I’m just going to touch your good hand now,” he said.
She nodded again.
He took her wrist carefully, the heel of her hand scraped and dirty. He pressed his fingers to her pulse, counting the frantic flutters for a moment.
“Do you know if you fell asleep after you fell?” he asked as he set her hand back down.
Her brow pinched in thought.
“I woke up,” she said slowly.
He stilled for half a second.
“Okay,” he said as he pulled away. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his pants. “I’m going to call for help.”
She immediately pulled away, eyes wide. “Not the police! You—you can’t!”
She tried to push herself backward again, pain flashing across her face.
“Okay—easy.“
“Please don’t—”
“Lucy, Lucy,” he called carefully. “Listen to me.”
She stopped, staring at him, chest heaving.
“I’m not calling the police. I'm not.”
He watched her closely, looking for understanding. Some flickered on her face.
“I’m calling an ambulance to take you to the hospital,” he explained.
Her lip wobbled.
“Am I in trouble?” she whispered.
“No,” he replied, certain and firm. “You’re not in trouble–you’re hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She eyed him warily.
“The ambulance will take you to the hospital so we can help you feel better,” he assured her. “I’m going to call them now, okay?”
“O-okay.”
He punched in the three numbers and was greeted by the dispatcher.
“I need EMS at Ridgeview Park, south loop trail, about a hundred yards east of the Maple entrance. I’m a physician on scene. I have a seven year old female with a head injury post fall. Reports loss of consciousness—now awake and responsive. Scalp laceration with active bleeding. Possible arm injury… Yes… Understood.”
Lucy’s eyes tracked his hands the moment he finished, her body tightening as if bracing for something.
He paused.
“Hey Lucy,” he said, “have you ever played Red Light, Green Light?”
“Yeah.”
“How about we play right now? You say green light if it’s okay for me to keep going. If anything hurts, or you want me to stop, you say red light. Think you can do that?”
She considered it for a moment.
“Okay.”
“I’m going to check your eyes first,” he said. “Green light or red light?”
“Green light.”
“Good. I want you to follow my finger,” he explained. “Just your eyes, keep your head nice and still.”
Her eyes tracked smoothly left, right, up, down.
“Perfect. Good job,” he said. “I’m going to shine a light in your eyes now—it’s going to be really bright. Just focus right on my nose.”
“Kay.”
He switched on his phone’s flashlight. She startled as the beam passed over her eyes. He caught just enough to see them constrict properly before she squeezed her eyes shut with a strained whimper.
“Okay, red light, red light,” he quickly said for her. “Too bright or hurts?”
“Hurts,” she replied quietly, blinking hard.
“That’s alright,” he said gently. “Take a second. Deep breath.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with an exaggerated breath.
“Good job,” he said, giving her a moment.
He scanned her legs for obvious deformity, swelling. He found nothing dramatic, just dirt on the knees of her pants. The dirt coated her sleeves as well—the underside of her left sleeve and the top of her right.
“I just need to touch your shoes now. Green light or red light?”
“…green light.”
He placed a hand over each of her sneakers.
“Can you wiggle your toes for me?”
Her shoes moved against his hands, lightly rustling the leaves.
“Good,” he murmured. “That’s perfect.” He took one hand away, squeezing one foot. “You feel me touching you here?”
A nod.
He switched to the other foot.
“And here?”
Another nod.
He started to shrug off his sweatshirt. “Are you cold?”
“Little.”
“Alright, let’s try to keep you warm,” he said, laying the sweatshirt over her.
She relaxed a fraction under the warmth. His eyes drifted to the arm she kept carefully cradled.
“Does your arm hurt?”
She nodded tightly.
“Did you put your hand out to catch yourself?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked away.
Robby tilted his head but didn’t comment.
“Does your other arm hurt at all?” he asked instead.
“No.”
“Can you point to where it hurts most for me?”
She carefully removed her hand, pointing to the middle of her upper arm.
“Okay–”
Then pointed to just above her wrist. Her eyes darted away from him again.
“Alright, that’s okay,” he said, nearly whisper-quiet. “I’m going to take your hand, see if you can give me a squeeze—red light or green light?”
Her only response was a couple shallow breaths.
“Okay, red light,” he decided gently. “Let’s take a big breath instead.”
He demonstrated and she followed.
He pivoted.
“What grade are you in, Lucy?”
“S-Second,” she whispered.
“What’s your favorite class?”
“Math.”
“Wow,” he said. “You must be really smart!”
A shadow of a smile passed over her face.
“I’m bad at math,” he admitted. “I always liked science and history.”
“Mrs. Gover teaches science,” she replied. “She’s my favorite.”
“Yeah? My favorite teacher was named Dr. Adamson.”
“Was he nice?”
“Yeah,” he smiled fondly. “He was. He taught me a lot about keeping people safe.”
She blinked at him, hope flickering—before instinct pressed it flat.
“Okay, Lucy,” he said gently. “Would it be alright if I just touched your fingertip?”
He demonstrated on himself, pressing his nailbed.
She nodded faintly.
“Green light?” he checked.
“G-green light.”
He pressed carefully, watching the color return to her nail.
“Good. Can you feel this?” he asked, brushing lightly across the back of her hand.
“Yeah.”
“Perfect.” He set his finger in her palm. “Think you can give me a squeeze?”
She tightened her grip with a wince and a small whimper.
“That’s really good, Lucy.”
“It was an accident,” she said suddenly.
He held her gaze for a long second.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Okay.”
Sirens began to wail in the distance.
“The ambulance is almost here,” he told her. “The lights are going to flash, and it’s going to be loud, but it’s not going to hurt you.”
She nodded.
“Does anything else hurt?”
“No.”
“Your belly feels okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How about your back?”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m going to check your back with my hand. Is that alright?”
“Green light.”
He watched her face carefully as he slid his fingers down her spine, palpating each vertebra.
“Any pain?”
She shook her head.
The sirens cut off as the ambulance reached the mouth of the path. The engine idled behind them, headlights washing over the trees and illuminating Lucy in pale yellow light.
“Ambulance is here,” he said softly. “You’re going to meet a couple new people, but I’ll be right here with you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”