Rookie Mistake
((here's an OC x OC (m/m) fic for two new OCs i made during my time in EMT school bc i was bored n horny))
((CW medical accuracies but no gore or violence or anything crazy...just like...mention of the flu. and MESS))
Another day at the station 21, Nigel slinked down the steps with sleep still in his eyes and brown hair tousled in every direction. His head felt heavy, and his whole body ached, but he was more willing to say it was just ‘training soreness’ even if his nose felt completely blocked. Making it to the steps, he’s immediately greeted by his fellow firemen, who are also sleepy but still a little more awake as they brew their coffee, chew on meat sticks, and play on their phones or watch the news.
“Ey look a live kid,” one of them said. Immediately, Nigel's half-lidded eyes opened, and he did his best to look more alert as he muttered a soft “yes sir?”
“See, we didn’t brutalize you too bad this week, told ya we wouldn’t kill ya” Said one as he took a swig of his coffee. Another- Abel- came up behind Nigel and wrapped his bicep around his upper body to trap him and mess up his hair.
“Maybe we ain’t going hard enough, West, he can take some more, I’m sure.” Nigel flinched and grimaced but didn’t fight Abel off much and just dragged himself over to the ‘kids table’ in the back corner of the kitchen when he was let go. He plopped down and put his head in his arms, shuddering hard when the cold wood of the table touched his cheek. With his head down, he felt the congestion move, which caused an awful prickling sensation in his sinuses. He snorted thickly and scrunched up his nose, which temporarily ridded it.
During breakfast, he managed to grab a small bite to eat and downed a bit of coffee. Another person walked into the kitchen. He had black hair that peaked out of his beanie that donned the station’s logo, a short beard and stache, a station company quarter zip, blue tactical pants, a blue backpack, and black duty boots.
“Morning ya’ll” He greeted. The firemen waved at him as they shoveled food into their mouths as if they’d been starving all day and night.
“Ey its the passenger princess!” West pointed at an empty seat, and the man sat down. Morgan Freight, one of their paramedics. Nigel didn’t work with Morgan much directly unless it was dragging victims over to him; he had run 2 calls with him on the ambulance, but not much since. Morgan usually had another older fire medic on board. However, when Nigel started to doze off, Morgan knocked on the table gently to wake him up and told him.
“Ey you’re on the medic with me, when I’m done, we gotta check the back, alright.” Nigel absent-mindedly nodded and laid his head back down “Oh shit, Morgan’s got the probie today?” West snickered, Abel laughed. “Damn, dude’s gonna make the kid soft.” “Meh means when he’s not busy, he’s gonna be training with us, two words, ladder mase.” Nigel bit back a groan.
Nigel didn’t get to rest his head much, as soon as the guys could, they put him on dishwashing duty, which wasn’t anything new. The steam from the hot sink water was sure loosening up the wall of congestion, which meant a lot of sniffling and rubbing his nose into his sweatshirt.
Finally, Morgan called him over.
“Truck check”
Nigel stuffed a few napkins into his pockets after using one to hastily wipe at his nose before heading down the hall to the garage bay. In the bay, he’s greeted by the chilly fall turning winter air and bright sun through the open garage. Morgan opened the doors and handed Nigel a sheet of paper.
“Check everything off that’s stocked. If you find something we’re low on or don’t have, go and get it from the stashroom and sign it out. Do you know how to do that?” His voice was still a bit gravely from sleep. Nigel nodded and took the paper as he climbed in.
“Yes, sir,” Morgan nods approvingly and sits on the center seat to set down his book bag and empty it out. “Good, I like my rig set up a certain way, bags, iv set up stuff, and anything that’ll prick ya should be on the side you’re on. When you’re done checking that, check our oxygen tanks, will ya?”
Once again, Nigel nodded as he opened the little cabinets and boxes and used the pen attached to the clipboard and paper to record everything. They were silent for a little while; the sounds of wet sniffles, coughs, feet shuffling around, and cabinets opening and closing filled it. The up and down motion was making that congestion shift around more than Nigel’s body liked. That prickle turned into a tickle he tried to rub away, but of course, it had to ruin the number one probie rule. Not a sound besides ‘yes, sir’ unless it’ll kill someone.’
He tried to quiet it as much as he possibly could, hurriedly dropping a saline bag onto the work bench to grab at his nose by the second sneeze as the first escaped him. “HhNGgsshhuhw HhNGgsshhuhw! Huhhh HHhNGgknnk!” The ambulance rocked a little from the motion, but Nigel prayed silently that Morgan wouldn’t comment as he fished out a napkin from his pocket.
“Bless you, you alright?” It took a second for Nigel to get his words out but he managed “Ye-yes sir, sorry.” Morgan just chuckled and shook his head. “No worries, ain’t nothing to be sorry for.”
They finished their check, cleaned the inside, and Nigel ran to grab his book bag and plopped it inside the front cab. Right as Morgan and him started to walk away, the tone went off. The speaker's lights flashed a single red bar, and a robotic voice bellowed.
“Ambulance 21 respond. Ill person; trouble breathing.” Morgan took out his phone and checked their app for more information, huffing as he headed towards the driver’s seat. “Welp, let's do it!” He called out. Nigel jumped into the passenger seat, and they drove off with lights and sirens blaring down the road.
It was barely 8 am, and they were on their way. Nigel got out his phone to see what the app said. ‘Adult patient with flu symptoms, chief complaint of trouble breathing and fever.” Well this would be his first.
“You ever ran a med call after your schooling?” Morgan asked “Twice but its been’d abit” Nigel admitted sheepishly, snuffling and rubbing his nose onto his wrist.
“Well, lucky you, this’ll be your call, it's a BLS, so unless shit hits the fan, they’re all yours.” Morgan grinned as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and weaved through traffic. Nigel shrank a little in his seat and started going over the notes he had. Morgan seemed to sense the nervousness.
“Ey, i’ll step in first okay. You remember your XABCs? And assessment?” It took a second for it to process but Nigel nodded.
“Yes, sir, primary, history, and second.” “Good, good, if they’re altered, what's the first thing you wanna check after XABC?” “Blood sugar?” Nigel guessed, and Morgan grinned as he leaned up in his seat to look over the dashboard.
“Yeah, you’ll be fine, you got this. Also, you ain’t gotta call me ‘sir’ like that, I ain’t that strict or that old.” Nigel nodded and sighed hard, his shoulders lowered a bit.
When they arrived at the home, the men hopped out of the truck. Nigel shoved his notebook in his pockets and shivered hard. The cold air stung his throat and nose and reminded him of yesterday’s training. Hose work, and let's just say it got wet, by that I mean the guys decided Nigel needed to ‘cool off’. Now he was sniffling, sneezy, and sore, and all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed.
He grabbed the stretcher, loaded their gear on it, and towed it to the front door. Morgan got the door open quickly, and they walked in to see the Patient on the floor, sitting on the steps. A young woman in her fluffy bathrobe, hair in a messy bun. She was hunched over, shivering, her face flushed, her hands clutching the bathrobe. Morgan introduced them to the woman.
“Ello ma’am, I’m Morgan, this is Nigel, a medic and EMT with the fire department. What seems to be the problem?” Nigel gave a shy wave from behind as Morgan crouched down to the woman.
She weakly tells them she’s had the flu for a few days, her fever hasn’t broken and her chest feels tight. Morgan nodded understandingly as he fished a set of gloves from his pockets and pulled them on. Nigel dug some out from his bag and put them on his.
“Mind if we set you up with some oxygen?” Morgan asks. She nods. He steps back, pats Nigel on the shoulder, and whispers. “I grab the stuff you talk with her,” Nigel agreed, crouching toward her. However, just as he did, the congestion shifted, and he stifled, barely in time. But that also made him tumble onto his ass and hit his head against the wall. He winced at the sharp pain ringing through his head.
“You good?” Morgan asked. Nigel scrambled to his feet with a nod as he rubbed the back of his head with a few sniffles.
“Yeah, yeah, mb’good.” He turned his attention back to the patient. It didn’t take a doctor to know she wasn’t doing so hot. After getting some history, hooking her up to the monitor, and taking her temperature, they got her on the cot, and away they went. Nigel’s heart did sink to his ass a little bit when he saw ‘103’ on the thermometer screen.
Nigel drove this time, since the poor women needed an IV and that wasn’t something he was allowed to give, along with some other things. Being in the driver’s seat always made him nervous; everything always felt wrong, and he was still learning how to drive it. And today was not the day for a driving lesson. He could feel his nose trying to run down to his upper lip, the sirens drowned out his sniffling. All the sniffling was dragging the snot inside against the sensitive insides of his nose, though, and it was causing small tickles he knew would not be a fun clean up if one managed to grow bigger than that. It also made him want to rub his nose off his face.
When they arrived at the hospital in the ambulance entrance, he hopped out to help bring their patient inside. The hospital wasn’t much warmer than the weather outside, well, at least it wasn’t raining today. A small collection of nurses came out from their station as Morgan called out.
“Got a 27-year-old woman, with the flu, difficulty breathing, chest tightness, temperature of 103 both on scene, and en route, I gave IV saline and tried passive cool down, temp’s not budging, and she’s getting altered. Sats got a little better with oxygen, but it's still not great!” Nigel barely registered anything after that; it was a blur of people coming in and out, commands and equipment being shuffled around. The next thing he knew he was out in the hall with Morgan.
“Alright, let's go, gotta decom the back,” Morgan said with a head tilt towards the automatic doors as he pulled the stretcher from behind. Nigel nodded, finally zoning back in.
In the back, they got to disinfect their gear. The faint chemical scent of the wipes seemed to be the one thing Nigel’s nose needed to send it over the edge. He tried to lean away from any of the cabinets as his breath hitched; there was no need to whack his head on anything else. His free hand fiddled around to grab any napkins he stashed away earlier; he just barely pulled a shaky napkin-clad hand to his face in time.
“HeEH! HhPNkksshhhh! Hehhh! Heh! Heieeeh! HhPNkksshhhh! HhPNkksshhhh! hH’atzzZSChhihhww!” Each sneeze rocked the ambulance and bent the poor guy forward even as he tried to hold onto something. He grimaced when he noticed how soaked his hand felt; those napkins barely protected his hands from the spray, let alone the strands of snot that dripped down.
“Bless you! You alright over there?” Morgan asked with surprise, Nigel blushed hard and nodded while he tried to clean himself up. Only to wince at how rough those napkins felt against his nose. When he tried to speak, his sore throat interrupted his chances with a round of scratchy coughs.
“I’mb fide i’mb fide sdrrff sdrck ugh kofff koff koff! Ow!” When he finally regained some composure, he heard the sounds of cabinets opening and closing then a soft ‘thunk’. When he finally gets his eyes open, there’s a small box of tissues.
“Here, sure sounds like you’ll need’em, ain’t much but we can stop by the store and get some more.” Morgan offered. Nigel turned almost bright red, and hesitation filled him while he tried to get himself to apologize and insist it was nothing. Morgan wasn’t having it, though. He patted Nigel softly on the shoulder and rubbed his thumb against his collarbone in a comforting way as he assured him.
“Ey its fine, plenty of us get sick. We take care of so many of the sick civies who act like covering their mouth is an option that it's no surprise. Trust me, been sick plenty, no shame in it.” Finally, Nigel took the offer and snatched up a few tissues to clean up the remaining mess left behind and blow his nose. God, those tissues were shitty at containing it all. He tossed them into the trash and took a steady breath and sighed.
“Better?” Morgan asked, Nigel nodded.
When they hopped back into the cab of the ambulance, Morgan took the driver’s seat again and drove out of the lot.
“How long have you been sick?” He asked, Nigel shrugged, and muttered.
“Felt a lil bad last night.” Morgan raised a brow and asked what all that all meant and what he had been doing yesterday. Nigel thought about it.
“Just felt really tired, throat hurt a little, sdff sdrff but I thought it was just frob training and running calls, ya know. They had bme doing stair climb, forcible entry and hose work…hose work did idvolve gettig power washed though.” Morgan chuckled “Sounds like they had you working hard as hell. How long’s your shift?” “Uh 72hrs, its by last day of bmy shift.” Morgan nodded. “Good, you’re gonna really need the rest. How long ya off?” “48hr” “Ouch, if you’re not better by the start of 2nd day, call off, better to call off as early as ya can, better shot at them being able to bring in a replacement for the day.” Nigel nodded at the advice. “Sounds like a pretty bad cold. You take anything for it?” “Dnot since last dnight, took some Aleve for the soreness.” “You got a temperature?” “…..” Silence. Morgan sighed and shook his head. “You really are new, rookie mistake, not doing a supply run, hell ya could’ve doordashed some DayQuil, man!” Morgan didn’t actually seem angry; there was a slight smile and lightness to his voice as he drummed his thumbs on the wheel at the right light.
“We’re doing a supply run, ain’t having my favorite EMT die on me.” Nigel quickly tried to refuse, dismissing the ‘favorite emt’ comment.
“Dno dno its fide, I cad manage, there’s probably stuff in the bathrooms right?” Morgan laughed loudly this time and started driving again.
“Oh, you really don’t get it, do ya? I know these guys, that cabinet has more cobwebs than toothpaste, let alone an Advil! Sure in the emergency ‘West made dinner’ bag, there’s some Pepto and Advil, but that’s about it. I’ve been needing to stock up on our stuff anyway.”
“There are things to getting through a sick day or week at the station.” Morgan started. Nigel curled up in his seat as a chill ran down his spine.
“ 1: as soon as you start feeling like you got ran over by the ambulance, you DoorDash or go supply shopping, hell send someone out if ya got the rank, and well you don’t. 2: Don’t try a hot shower, you’ll never get the chance. You use a loophole and either heat up a pot on the stove or turn the shower on, but don’t get in it, let it heat fill the bathroom instead. 3:chicken noodle soup. Or ramen as much as you can make and eat, busy call day cup-o-noodles. 4: travel pack of tissues. Pack of tissues in one pocket, the other pocket is your ‘trash pocket’ till you can empty it, and 5: you tell one person, who won't tell the whole damn station. Gossip is more contagious than that cold you’ve got.”
Nigel nodded along as he listened. It was a lot to keep up with, but he’d sure try.
They pulled into a small store and went inside. It wasn’t anything special, just a little store that had the basics. First stop was the cold and flu aisle. Morgan grabbed a couple of boxes of tissues, more than Nigel at first thought was necessary, till morgan explained.
“That cold's gonna go around like wildfire, might as well get as many as I can now so I don’t gotta worry about it later.” Nigel went over and picked up a few travel pack boxes of tissues and dropped them into the cart. Morgan wandered over a few feet away and came back with multiple different pack and bottles of medicine. “Woah thats alot” Nigel commented. Morgan chuckled and set the items into the cart.
“Yeah, well, the guys tend to be lil babies around medicine. West hates liquid medicine so I get the gel pill form, Clayten would rather die than swallow pills, and Castle gets the worst fevers. The rest of them sort themselves out for the most part.” He then grabbed an Advil half and joked.
“This is the only thing getting me through it.”
Eventually, they left that aisle and started to head towards the soup aisle; however, Morgan suddenly stopped and turned the cart towards the main aisle.
“We’re gonna get a call soon, better pay for these now, we can come back for food later.” Nigel looked at him skeptically. Could someone really guess when they were about to get a call? “How do you know that?” He asked as Morgan started to speed walk towards checkout. “It happens every time.” The paramedic answered matter-of-factly.
Right as they started to load the front of the cab, as Morgan predicted, their phones went off. Nigel looked at it, and Morgan cursed. “Shit, trouble breathing, possible unresponsive.” They hopped into their seats, turned on their lights and sirens, and sped out of the parking lot.
From then on, they barely had the time to go back to the station until 6 PM. By then, Nigel was absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to flop into bed. He dragged his feet into the station alongside Morgan, who carried in most of the groceries. They were met by the smell of taco night and the sound of the guys jeering at the TV that played jeopardy.
“We’re back!” Morgan called out. “Ey there you guys are, its been nothing but med calls today” Abel pointed out, Morgan nodded and handed a bag to Nigel and gently told him.
“Take those and go lay down for a bit, I’ll heat up some soup.” Nigel looked in the bag and nodded, but West wasn’t gonna let him get very far without some teasing. A heavy hand ruffled roughly through his sweaty brown hair. “Aw shit, Morgan must’ve worked you hard, you look like shit kid. Didn’t know ol morgan had it in’im” Nigel tried to walk off without a word, but Wes wasn’t done.
“Nuh-uh, rookie, you’re on dish duty, you know that.” Morgan pushed West’s hand off Nigel.
“No, he doesn’t, he’s going to go sit down. It won't kill you to stop dodging your chores yourself, Wes, you’ve ‘made trade’ with almost all of us and haven’t lived up to your end of the deal.” While the two went back and forth, Nigel tried to fight off the buzzing, burning, prickling sensation in his nose from the congestion shifting around when his nose got runny. He was way too tired; he rubbed and pressed lazily at his damp nostrils. When he knew it wouldn’t be any use, he pulled a few tissues from the box in the bag he had managed to open on the way to one of their patients.
He brought up a shaky handful of tissues to his face as he hitched and dove into them with an incredibly wet fit.
“ Hehh! Heh! Haah! hH’atzzZSChhihhww! HHUh!! HhEdssSCHHhheeoo! HhEdssSCHHhhemmmph! EHh!EdssSCHHhhuummmph!” Nigel grimaced as he felt the mess soak into his hand, but his poor sinuses finally felt just the hint of relief from getting it out. He didn’t even care anymore; he just grabbed more tissues to mop up what was in his hand and pressed more to his face as he announced. “I’mb goig to by roomb” and trudged out of the kitchen.
In his room, he kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed. He didn’t care that he’d be leaving in 2 hours; he just wanted to lie down. His whole body was killing him. His head pounded, his throat was raw, his bones and muscles ached horribly, and the relief of being off his feet was just a small bliss that he decided to accept as the only good thing he had right now. His sinuses throbbed from being so full, the underside of his nose burned from the constant rubbing, it was HELL!
Just the thought of getting up to pack his stuff to leave made him want to be knocked unconscious. Sure, he’d love to be in his own little apartment, in his own bed away from others, but he was worn out! He rolled onto his side and curled up on top of the covers, knowing he’d be cold no matter what, and he’d have to pack them up anyway.
When he rolled over the soft but still audible-for him- squeltch and squish of the congestion shifting and seeping down his sinuses and nose brought that tickle from earlier back, and his body was determined to get this cold out of him. He lazily pulled a few tissues to his twitching, tender red nostrils as he hitched towards sneezes that made a mess overflow the tissues and drip onto the bedding.
“HhEdssSCHHhheeoo!! HhEdssSCHHhhemmmmphh! Heh Hehh Hh! EdssSCHHhhmmph ugh fugkhih! atzzZSChhihhww!”
Nigel didn’t know how long it had really been til there was a knock on his door. He managed a rough, congested. “Cobe id”
Then Morgan’s gentle voice alerted him. “Hey I made some soup, I put it in some tupperware in case you weren’t in the mood to eat yet. You could take it home.” Nigel sat up slowly, his face scrunched at the movement and he sneezed almost immediately into his hands.
“Ugh, sorry, and thagks” He grabbed tissues to clean himself up again, after a harsh nose blow, he took the bowl of soup. Finally, he could get something on his stomach. The warmth of the soup spread throughout his core and ceased his chills as he ate.
“You did good today,” Morgan commented. Nigel looked up for a moment. Morgan laughed a little at the ‘huh’ look on his face.
“You did real well, sure you’re a lil clunky when ya first start with the patient, but you pulled through.” Nigel couldn’t tell if it was the soup or the compliments that made his cheeks feel hot Morgan outstretched his hand and pressed the back of it to Nigel’s forehead and tsk’d “I’ll handle most of the reports for today. You focus on getting some rest, I’ll text you the other ones you can do when you’re up for it.”
Nigel wanted to say he could do more than ‘afew’ but after today, he knew it was better to take the offer for a break.
“Make sure you take that medicine too, don’t make me do a house call.” Morgan chidded as he gestured to the bag of supplies. “I will I will, thagks”