[identity profile] x-dominion.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] xp_logs
Sharon provides emergency medical aid under the protection of Longshot



They had deployed with the X-Men at Sharon's urging. The Avengers were capable of beating back an army. They had to assume that there would be injuries, and while both her and Arthur didn't train as X-Men, they could help providing medical services without getting in the way. The first call came over the comms at the same time as Blink appeared in front of them, holding up a badly injured Angel.

Angel wasn't doing well. Clarice was holding most of her weight as she doubled over the best she could with three arrows sticking out of her side. She wasn't sure what two of the arrows had hit - organs, for sure. But the third one was definitely in her lung - she was gasping for breath, each gasp bringing with it a sharp pain that probably wasn't normal.

"Damn." Sharon quickly took over the weight and eased her to the ground, careful to keep the arrow's free. "Wanted to know what it feels like to be a human pincushion, Firestar?" Blood stained the leather around the wounds and she pulled out the special scissors she had at her belt so she could cut the suit away and get a clear picture of the damage, modesty be damned.

"Ha," Angel said breathlessly, coughing weakly. The world was starting to get hazy, and she was vaguely aware that wasn't a good thing.

Suddenly Cyclops' voice sounded over the comms: "Blink, we need you here now!"

"On it bossman!" Clarice sent back, turning Angel over to Sharon. Really, they needed more than a nurse, no matter how highly trained, on this, but she was needed elsewhere and Jean was engaged, too. There was no one else. So be it. With one last glance at Angel, and a silent prayer that she wasn't going to have call a time of death again, she teleported away.

"Oh boy..." Sharon had carefully cut away the leathers around the arrows. One of the three fell away, seemingly having been stopped by the armor in the leathers and a rib, and only leaving a small flesh wound. The other two seemed to be bleeding, but it was not gushing out. Hopefully the arrows were blocking the bleed. The bubbles visible in the blood from the chest wound was something she was very much not happy with though.

Reaching over, she grabbed an oxygen mask and slipped it over Angels's head. "Angel, this is will help your breathing and make you a little bit better. Then set about applying an occlusive dressing, improvising a little with a few cuts and some take to close the sucking chest wound.

The sound of boots hitting the ground nearby was impossible to ignore. Hawkeye drew herself up and freed another arrow from her quiver, intent on finishing the job.

A glint of silver lit the air as a knife appeared, deflecting the arrow with a twang. Given the knife's speed versus the arrow, it shouldn't have veered as far from course as it did, but it looked like luck was the medical team's side.

Or... something like that.

A blonde-headed figured appeared in trail of the knife wearing a look of extreme confusion. "So, like, I take it mind control trumps common decency? I thought the Asgardians were all 'Lo, thy hath nobility and prestige.'"

Arthur turned, which was probably not a smart idea, to grin at Sharon. "I once tried out for the Royal Shakespeare Company. Or Regal Shakespeare, Inc. Something like that."

"More dealing with the Katniss over there, less talking." Sharon instructed tersely as she finished stabilizing the second arrow with gauze and tape, helping to staunch the visible bleeding as well. She frowned as she observed Firestar's breathing. It seemed to have improved somewhat when she had applied the occlusive dressing, but now it seemed to be getting worse again. Reaching for her stethoscope, she listened carefully, focusing past the sounds of the battlefield.

Yes, definitely decreased breathing sounds on the right. Draping the instrument on her chest, Sharon reached over to gather a package from her supplies while leaning over Angel. "I know that breathing hurts rights now. I am gonna have to put a needle in your chest to deal with that. Will hurt a bit, but you should feel better then."

Angel tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. "I'm a big girl," she rasped, blinking rapidly now. "I can handle needles." After arrows, needles were nothing.

Hawkeye didn't respond to Arthur, putting another arrow in the air towards his head as fast as he could blink.

It would have been a great shot too, if a piece of debris from the ensuing battle didn't intercept the arrow in mid-flight as it landed between the Avenger and the medical area with a loud "thwunk." The public markup from this adventure was going to be costly.

The blonde, however, then blinked, and followed up with, "Man. Rude." It was hard to say if he was talking to Sharon or the archer.

His next action, however, was to fling not a retort, but a throwing knife at the purple-clad girl.

Sharon in the meantime found the crossing of the second intercostal space and the midclavicular line and was swiping it with an alcohol wipe. She positioned the long needle, with the syringe with some saline in it attached. "Angel, here come the needle." With a firm movement, she pushed it straight down with small bubbles appearing in the saline. Quickly she removed the syringe, pulled out the needle and disposed of it in her sharps container, leaving on the catheter in place.

Hawkeye moved with snake-like speed, jerking her head back as the blade flashed past her.

"If that's how you want to play it..." She selected one of the explosive tipped arrows and fired. The arrow streaked in, aiming not for Arthur but for the ground just under him, trying to topple him from the roof to his death.

Arthur was already moving even before she fired. His knife, now clattering useless, was a feint to hide his true intentions. The mutant didn't dive back or to the side, but instead toward Hawkeye. He sailed, time passing almost as if in slow motion, out of a front flip inches from the arrow in the air, and into what could best be described as a somersault tackle.

Directly into Hawkeye's feet.

Points to the Hawkgal, though -- the kickback from the arrow added more than a touch of unplanned momentum to Arthur's maneuver, and knocked the two of them off the building together. The fortuitous debris from earlier shielded the medical area from the blast, and when the smoke cleared there was neither a Hawkguy or Luckguy to be seen.

Angel's breathing seemed to improve a bit, but Sharon still thumbed her comms. "I have stabilized Firestar, but she needs evac asap to our home base. She needs Cecelia." Awaiting a reply, she reached for another needle and canula and set about putting an IV in place.

A couple beats later, there came a call from off the side of building, seemingly disembodied. Or, well, out of view. It was familiar.

"I could use a Sharon, though, if we're tossing requests out there. Maybe a hand. Definitely ice cream."

Beat.

"I guess since I got all this way..."

Another beat, and Arthur swung back up into view from the fire escape, landing gracefully despite the telltale signs of future bruising. He smiled, shrugging. "Arrow Lady and I fell a few stories before I could knock her bow away. She has forty or so stories to go fetch it."

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