Eight hours ago..
When Emilia came into the bathroom, she saw Doug slumped forward in the tub, with her mom feeling his neck for a pulse and trying to wake him up.
“Emma, Doug has passed out. I don’t exactly know why but I think his burns have gone bad. Help me hold him up so I can dry him off. We get him to bed and scour this place for medical gear and books. I don’t know enough to know what to do.” She leaned forward and pinched the skin on the back of the hand. It stayed tented up for a couple of seconds as it slowly smoothed out. “He’s still low on fluid. At least he should have IV stuff here. If I can remember how to use it, we can at least get him hydrated.”
Emilia came forward and helped her mother hold him upright sitting in the tub. Heidi dried him off with the towel as much as she could. As Heidi dried Doug off, she kept talking to him.
“Doug, you better wake up soon, otherwise I’m going to start inventing shit to work on you again. This could be considered sexual harassment, being naked in front of your subordinates. This is a hell of an example to be setting for young impressionable staff members.” And on and on she went.
Emilia was worried for Doug. She liked him and got along with him. She was also worried for her mom. This was the most talking she had ever seen her do. It seemed manic, like she thought if she stopped talking, Doug would die. All of this was so far outside her realm of understanding she was lost. She could just react and do what her mom said.
Heidi was trying to reach Doug’s mind. She had read about people in a coma still being able to hear what was going on around them. If she could get him to fight, to engage, she could maybe get him to help her treat him. She was also sizing him up.
They had to get him out of the tub and into his bed. He was over six foot and solid. This wouldn’t be easy, but it was doable. He was nowhere as big as Tony and she had fireman carried Tony every four to six months back in the day whenever they did Self-Aid/Buddy Care. That ass of an SABC Instructor had always used the two of them to prove it was technique not mass that made the carry work. She can remember carrying Tony from the stage all the way to the back of the theater room they trained in, uphill and steps every six feet. The smug bastard would watch her do it every time, waiting for her to fail or wobble. When she would get to the top of the stairs, he would look at the rest of the students and tell them he didn’t want to hear any of them bitching and moaning about how heavy or mismatched their training partner was for this part of the training. The fact she could do it and never gave him the satisfaction of failing had a secondary effect. The others had a little bit of envy and a lot of hate for her showing them up.
He was wet and slippery but they managed to get him higher in the tub and somewhat balanced on the edge. Now came the difficult part. Heidi was used to people being clothed when she did this. She had to reach through his legs and lay him across her shoulders. She remembered it was easier when the one being carried was helping. None of that this time. Pure unconscious weight. She settled him into place.
He wasn’t as dry as they thought. She was soaked quickly. She started her walk towards the bedroom.
“Emma, get the doors and get the covers pulled down on the bed. Also, grab another towel to put under his left side. I scrubbed things down and he will be leaking again.”
Emilia was impressed. She knew her mother was strong, but this was the mom she drew pictures of on display live and in person. After that first night on the run when she saw how fit and cut mom was, she started drawing the winged superhero drawing Doug saw. It was all supposition then. Here it was in front of her. She knew she would do another, more accurate version later.
Emilia scurried to get things done her mother asked for, but she still ended up leaving her standing next to the bed with Doug across her shoulders for a few minutes. Finally, they rolled him into the bed. Pulling the blankets up to keep him warm, when Heidi checked him again, his pulse was irregular and weak and his breathing was shallow.
“Emma, sit right here on the bed with him. I need you to keep feeling his pulse and watching his breathing. If his breathing gets too shallow, tell me. If the pulse stops, scream for me. I have to dig around and find books or something to figure out what to do next. Are you OK with this?”
Emilia looked at the intensity in her mother’s eyes. She knew she would never stop trying. How could she not be ok with helping her?
“Find the stuff so we can save Doug.”