On Call

Gabriel Alphonse stretched lazily, fighting being awake. The bed was warm, and oh so pleasant, but stirring beside him had woken him up. He reached over wrapped his arm around the form of Ilsa Kellerman, laying next to him.

“Mmm good morning,” she murmured. Alphonse inched closer to her and pressed his body up against her, feeling a blast of cold air when he moved the blankets. His arm slid around her toned, muscled midriff, and he snuggled up with his crotch against her firm, shapely butt. She leaned her head back to kiss him sleepily while he wrapped his arm around her chest and lovingly cupped her small, pert, breast.

“Hello darling,” he whispered in her ear. He blew a strand of long blonde hair from his face.

“I don’t want to get up,” she whimpered. Alphonse held her tight, as if to protect her from the need to get out of the bed. But after a quick kiss, she slid out of the blankets with a quiet curse.

“You’re so beautiful,” Alphonse told Kellerman as she rose. She turned and planted a firm kiss on his lips, and he cupped her boob for a moment before she withdrew and looked for her pants.

“I need a shower. Reek of sex,” she commented as she pulled her cut off jumpsuit pants on.

“What’s wrong with that,” sniggered Alphonse, remembering the night they’d spent together.

“I don’t think our fellow Martians need to literally smell how much you missed me Gabe,” she commented sarcastically.

“What,” he gasped in faux-shock. “You don’t think our potential patients won’t benefit from knowing I came inside you three times yesterday?”

“Gawd,” Kellerman sighed, while she pulled her singlet on, “no, I do not.”

“I like the jacket by the way,” Alphonse said, changing the subject to the jumpsuit top she was putting on.

“It’s nice having a bottom and a top again,” Kellerman said. She was wearing her usual white jumpsuit, but cut in half, and the bottom with belt loops sewn on the pants and the zipper staying with the top.

“You look better in your birthday suit,” said Alphonse, swinging his legs over the side of the bed in a determined effort to get up. He failed at actually standing, but he did manage give Kellerman’s ass a playful smack.

“You’re incorrigible today, eh? I thought I already took care of all that last night,” she teased.

“How can I resist,” Alphonse asked, “after my beautiful girlfriend left me for a week. My bed, Alas! Empty.”

“So dramatic,” Kellerman said as Alphonse started wearily dressing. He had just stepped into his jumpsuit when his intercom buzzed.

“Merde,” he cursed under his breath, seeing the message.

“What is it Gabe,” asked Kellerman, suddenly looking concerned.

“I’m needed in the clinic.”

“Am I also,” Kellerman asked, looking worried.

“No go get showered I’ll see what the situation is and will message you if needed ok,” Alphonse instructed. He got dressed quickly and headed out the door within minutes, giving Kellerman a quick kiss on the way out the door.

Alphonse hurried down the cold hallways to the medical clinic. At the threshold of the clinic door, which was open, he heard a German-accented male voice cursing loudly. Inside, Hans Hermann was sitting on the exam table holding his right hand strangely, with Pamala Sheldon standing next to him looking scared.

“Shit shit fuck,” he groaned, his hand shaking badly.

“It’s OK Hans, Gabe is here he’ll patch you up, show him what happened,” soothed Sheldon. Both were still dressed in their walking suits minus helmets and gloves.

“Show me Hans,” Alphonse said as he put on some rubber gloves from the cabinet. He could see Hermann was holding his arm strangely, and when he turned it palm up with a grimace he could see why. The wrist was purple and bruised, but it was the skin that caught his eye first: blistered and discolored.

“What happened Hans,” Alphonse asked in his best doctor’s voice. When he touched Hermann’s arm he winced.

“I… Fuck! It’s fucking…” he gasped, instinctively trying to protect the injured limb with his other hand. “I was helping Pamala with the mining gear, outside. It… schiesser! It activated and slammed into my arm.”

“Did you feel the suit rupture Hans,” Alphonse asked while he ever-so-gently examined the blistering on Hermann’s palm. "Did you feel it in your chest or ears?"

“The suit did its job, Doc,” Sheldon said. “The sealing system worked as planned, he didn’t lose O2 or go hypoxic or nothing.” Alphonse nodded, seeing the line of blood blisters around Hermann’s wrist. Clearly, as Sheldon indicated, the suit had saved him from worse injury.

“Pamala is right Hans. It looks like you have some nasty frostbite on the hand, and some damage from the low atmospheric pressure. I want to get you into the x-ray room as soon as possible, it looks like this will need to be stabilized, and we need to see what the damage is in the hand,” he told Hermann, who was shaking badly. “We’ll need to get this suit off of you too. First things first though, how about we get you medicated?”

“Yes, thank you doctor,” gasped Hermann, who it was clear to Alphonse, was in too much pain to get out of the suit without it.

“Pam, if there’s anything else you need to do I can take care of things from here, but you’re welcome to stick around,” Alphonse told Sheldon. He then pulled out the intercom and started tapping out a message to Kellerman.

Doc: Hermann crushed his hand and suffered a suit rupture. Will need you to come help me get him out of his suit and to the xray machine. Will medicate first.

“Right, OK then Hans, let’s get you some medicine,” Alphonse said, not waiting for a response from Kellerman, he looked for the appropriate medication in the cabinet. “Any allergies?”

“N-no, doctor,” groaned Hermann. Alphonse knew he didn’t have any allergies, there was only one member of the crew with any, but he wanted to check Hermann’s cognitive state before he administered the ****.

“OK Hans, did you hit your head? No? Good, OK… Lungs? Any cough since the incident, or shock to the pulmonary system? It didn’t get cold in your suit,” Alphonse rattled off, each time Hermann shook his head, and Alphonse noted the answer in a small notepad. “Alright good. Good. I’m going to pull up the other sleeve of your suit here,” he said, narrating his actions before doing them, “and then once, ok good we have the wrist here. Now then, let’s get you that medicine.” Alphonse administered the painkiller, hydromorphone, intravenously, and watched with satisfaction as his patient visibly relaxed.

“That is… so fucking good,” murmured Hermann, his eyes drooping.

“Let’s get you laid back here Hans, Pam can you help me,” Alphonse said, guiding Hermann down onto the exam table. Behind him he heard the door open.

“Come in Ilsa,” he said, recognizing Kellerman by the sound of her footsteps, “the patient is now sedated and relaxed here, and we’ll need get the suit off and then stabilize the arm before we x-ray.”

With Hermann medicated and barely conscious, Kellerman and Alphonse began working the walking suit off of him. In most circumstances, they would have just cut clothing off his body, but the tough, flexible material made that virtually impossible, so they instead, had to disassemble the suit one piece at a time. It took longer than Alphonse would have liked.

They moved Hermann, who had fallen asleep from the ****, onto a gurney and moved him to the x-ray room. The results were not optimistic.

“That hand is a mess. Shit,” gasped Kellerman, seeing the x-rays for the first time.

“Merde. It looks like four, no maybe five breaks in fingers and, shit yes the wrist too,” he said, noting each in his pad.

“Is he surgical Doctor,” Kellerman asked formally. When working beside one another in the clinic, the intimacy they so recently shared vanished behind their mutual layers of professionalism.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I think it is. Fuck, I don’t…”

“Yeah, I understand,” said Kellerman softly. They had long feared needed to do a complex surgery on Mars. They’d prepared for it, they were the most competent people for the job, but both would have been lying to say it was something in their wheelhouse.

“What about the barometric trauma and the frostbite,” Kellerman asked, clearly worried.

“It’s bad. On Earth I think we’d graft it but it’s the internal damage that worries me more,” Alphonse responded somberly. “As it stands, I would rather risk the scarring and treat any infection with antibiotics than go through the risk of skin grafts.”

“Yes Doctor,” Kellerman said.

“Opinion,” Alphonse asked, looking over at the tall medic.

“I agree, herr Doctor,” she said stiffly. “We must prioritize the underlying injuries.” Alphonse realized she probably wasn’t used to being asked her opinion in the clinic. He nodded as the tall blonde said her piece.

“I’m glad we agree,” he said, making an effort to smile warmly. He wanted Kellerman to know he valued her opinion.

“We should get the jumpsuit off of him, yes,” Kellerman asked, indicating towards the sedated Hermann and pulling out some scissors.

“Yes, please do, I will prepare the treatment plan for the damage,” Alphonse responded. Kellerman nodded and the two went about their duties. Sheldon departed some time later, as with the patient asleep, there was no further need for moral support. It was an hour later when Alphonse heard the clinic door open.

“How is he Gabe,” asked Tara Dayton, who strode into the clinic looking livid. Like Kellerman, she had cut down her white and blue jumpsuit but was wearing a knit sweater in place of the upper half of the garment.

“He’s got six fractures in his hand, two in his wrist, extensive barometric damage and some second-degree frost bite. He’ll live but he’s in rough shape, Tara,” Alphonse told his boss.

“Fuck,” Dayton responded. “This is… goddamnit!”

“He’ll need surgery, Tara,” Alphonse added softly.

“Shit. You equipped for it,” Dayton asked, raising her eyebrow.

“I am yes, but I…”

“What is it Doc,” Dayton pressed.

“I can take care of the bones OK, but the frostbite will scar. I… Miss Kellerman and I, believe it would be an error to attempt the skin grafting procedures necessary for this measure,” Alphonse explained, making sure to include Kellerman in the discussion.

“I’ll trust your judgement on that,” Dayton said bleakly. “The hand…”

“He’s lucky amputation isn’t required,” Kellerman interjected.

“Yes, the crush injuries are severe,” added Alphonse with a solemn nod.

“Fine,” Dayton sighed. “When you have a full treatment plan, let me know OK?”

“Will do boss,” Alphonse said, “I wish I had better news for you.”

“Not on you two,” she said simply, then added: “There will be an investigation.”