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cutiesonthehorizon · 5 years

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Resident - Ask and you shall receive

This is a @whumpexchange fic for the wonderful @whumperwriter . The hugest thanks and a hug to @the-wandering-whumper for her beta reading. All mistakes left behind are purely mine. I hope you’ll enjoy.

Summary: Conrad is having a not so good day. Of course he is too stubborn to ask for help. Whump ensues.

Links: Ao3 and Fanfiction.net (chaptered) or the whole fic below

He should have just rode the bike after all. It didn't matter he woke up late because his phone's battery died after a week of crazy shifts and an absent charger. The fact the sky was downcast and pouring rain, making his room darker and letting him snuggle against the comfortable pillow way past his wake up time, might've helped with oversleeping too. Or maybe it was just the late night and nightmares. Nic had spent the evening at home, having some type of girls night with her sister, and thus he had no one to get pestered out of bed by. So when Conrad opened his eyes and his watch showed he was due at the hospital in five minutes, he jumped out of bed with a curse. One look out of the window and into the pouring rain pushed the thought of biking to work out of his head. If he was lucky, he could make it to Chastain only a half an hour late. With all the overtime he was pulling lately, that shouldn't be too much of a problem.

Conrad was lucky in catching the bus after only a few minutes of wait, though he was already soaking wet. Teeth slightly chattering, he squeezed himself against the window between the back of a seat and the stanchion, right next to a big bulky guy who seemed to be just as soaked as him. Well, at least he wasn't going to drip water on some unlucky dude who had been smart enough to take an umbrella.

Conrad grimaced as the bus lurched to a stop at the next station and a group of loud teenagers stepped on. All the seats were occupied and even the places for standing were bursting. It was anything but a pleasant experience to be squeezed in such a tight place, without his morning coffee or juice and in wet clothes. The fact the driver didn't seem to realize he was actually transporting live beings, thus jumping on the brakes or turning at high speed without regard to his passengers, made Conrad even more regretful about not braving the road on his bike. At least that way he would have arrived at work in a more presentable state.

"I swear, if the dude jumps on the break one more time..." the bulky guy next to Conrad muttered when he was tossed against the window and one of the teenage boys ended up elbowing him in the stomach in his attempt to keep his balance. Conrad couldn't but agree as someone had just stepped on his foot. This day was turning out to be a nightmare and he wasn't even at work yet.

"Is he drunk or what?" an older lady called out when the bus suddenly swerved a bit and Conrad tensed. He looked out of the window at the rather busy traffic. He heard the blaring of horns as the bus seemed to veer a bit into the other lane. Not much, but enough that a car passed them with flashing lights and a blaring horn.

Something wasn't right, Conrad noted with growing apprehension as he felt the bus gaining speed and drifting to the left. It seemed almost as if the driver wasn't even holding the wheel....

"My God, is he dead?!" the older lady screamed, and panic ensued. Conrad started pushing through the crowd of passengers but he was almost at the end of the bus and people weren't moving out of his way fast enough. Blaring horns from outside became a warning just like the shrieking of a woman in the front of the bus. Conrad turned his head just in time to see that they were heading off the road. People were jumping out of the way as the bus barreled towards a nearby building...

There was no time. All he could do was brace for impact.

The air filled with the sound of screeching metal and screams as the driver obviously lost control over the bus, or worse, was planning to killing them all. Conrad didn't much care for reasoning. He felt the bus hit something and then everything was moving. People were flying through the air as the bus came to a sudden stop.

Gravity took over. Someone slammed into Conrad's back and his hands instinctively let go of the nearby handle. The push sent him flying several feet, until he hit the back of another seat. A wave of pain crashed into him just as all the air seemed to leave his lungs. Several bodies were flying through the air as other passengers were brought out of their seats or standing positions. It was as if someone had taken a large can half filled with grapes and given it a good shake. For a moment up and down made no sense and all Conrad registered was motion, pain bursting through his body, and the screeching of metal. In the next, there was silence.

For a dreadful second, there was no sound whatsoever and Conrad blearily thought he went deaf or died. There was darkness, then something wet dripped onto his face. Conrad blinked and just like that, the sound was back. Someone was wailing not so far from him. People were shouting and calling for help. There was the incessant sound of rain falling on the metal body of the bus. Conrad wanted for it all to stop again. He just needed one moment, one measly second to take a breath. His lungs were screaming and his chest felt as though it were on fire. Conrad's eyes went wide as he grasped at his chest, but his hand instead bumped into flesh that wasn't his own. Confused, Conrad looked down and saw he was clutching a heavy leg. Blinking, Conrad forced his other arm to move as well, wincing as a twinge of pain shot through his shoulder. He pushed the leg off of him, ignoring the pained grunt of the leg’s rightful owner. All he could focus on now was the need to breathe. Finally, as the weight was off of him, Conrad turned to the side, curling up as much as the space allowed and took in several gasping breaths. He started coughing and his chest screamed in protest, but at least air was moving into his lungs. Conrad struggled to control his breathing, closing his eyes for a minute, trying to push out anything else. He knew he should move and help the others. With every hitching breath he became more and more aware of all the people crying and moaning, not to mention the blaring car horns and the commotion outside of the bus. He needed to get up and start helping, but first he had to be able to breathe and make sure all his limbs were attached.

Arms - check, he thought as he used one of them as support and the other to protect his ribs. Legs.... well, he could feel them. An armrest was digging painfully into one. That was going to leave a bruise, he was sure. The other... well, the other leg felt a bit numb. Conrad's eyes widened in panic and he looked down, only to see another passenger strewn across his right leg. Swallowing, Conrad noted that the man wasn't moving. He didn't look like he was breathing, either.

Conrad took another cautious breath, and when it didn't make him curl into a ball and cough up a lung, he decided that resting would have to wait. There were people in need of help. With a groan that was lost between all the other sounds, Conrad sat up carefully and took a look around.

The bus was in shambles. From his viewpoint he saw that the front of the bus was a total wreck. He could see some smoke coming from the hood, but the rain was good at least for something. It was smothering the fire before it could really grow. The bus was lying on its side and that explained why all the people were lying so haphazardly, why there was glass around, and how the rain was pouring down onto them through one of the broken windows. Conrad would have liked to assess the situation more, but there was the man quite literally at his feet that needed attention right now.

With another groan, and wary of the broken glass around and below him, Conrad managed to extricate his leg and actually get on his knees so he could lean over a bit. His head swam at the change of position and he swayed a bit, but his hand was already reaching out towards the man's neck, checking for pulse. There wasn't one. Conrad cursed and was about to start CPR when he noted the strange angle of the man's neck. He should've noticed straight away. It seemed like the guy was thrown against a seat head first, his neck slamming into it with enough force to severe the spine. Conrad froze, leaning over the body for a precious minute, his mind going numb.

He was used to seeing dead bodies. It always brought up a whirlwind of emotions, but he could usually deal with them. He had to, he was a doctor. But being part of the event causing so much damage was something else. Conrad felt numb with shock, a bit surprised he was even alive.

A woman cried out and Conrad snapped back to reality. His head swiveled, looking for the source of the anguished sound amidst the others and his eyes settled on a teenage girl, one of the group that had gotten on at the last stop. She was leaning over a boy, her hands smeared with blood. Conrad somehow managed to get unsteadily up to his feet and maneuvered through the seats until he reached the two.

"Help, please! I can't stop it!" the girl cried even as her fingers fumbled around a large shard of glass stuck in the boy's leg. He was obviously unconscious, although still alive, if the flowing blood was any indication.

Conrad pulled her arms away from the wound.

"Stop!" he hissed, seeing that her attempts were causing the shard to move. "I'll help, just calm down. Listen to me, okay?" The girl nodded, tears running down her face. She seemed unharmed, except for a gash on her shoulder, but Conrad couldn't be sure without checking her over. Right now though, she was conscious and breathing and that meant she wasn't his priority. Looking at the boy, Conrad knew he was a different case.

"Give me your scarf," he said to the girl, while his fingers checked around the wound. The glass must've hit an artery, but the bleeding wasn't as bad as it could have been. He needed to put pressure on the wound but didn't want to risk moving the shard. The best course of action was a tourniquet.

Without a second thought, Conrad undid his own belt and wrapped it around the leg, a few inches above the bleeding wound. He pulled it as tight as it would go, then took the scarf from the girl and used it in place of a bandage, wrapping it around the glass shard in a way that would secure it in place for the time being. He looked at the watch and noted the time.

"8:20. If I'm not here, that's what you tell the EMTs, okay?"

The girl blinked, confusion and panic clear in her eyes.

"What?"

"The time we put on the tourniquet. They'll need to know. You understand?"

"T-twenty. What.... where are you going?"

"I need to check on the others. Just make sure he doesn't move, okay? Don't touch that shard."

"Please don't leave!" the girl shrieked and grabbed for Conrad's sleeve as he was getting up. He swayed at the motion but caught himself on the seat, hissing.

"S-sorry," the girl hitched, shaking. "Please, don't leave!"

"I need to help the others," Conrad said, looking around and seeing more people bleeding and moving around. "I'll be right there. If anything happens, just call for me, okay? I'm Conrad."

The girl sniffled and didn't look any more convinced, but she didn't dare grab for him again.

"I'm Lisa," she said shakily. "I don't want him to die."

"He won't. Just stay with him and if anything changes, call me. Okay? Help is on the way," Conrad told her and was relieved to realize he was right. He could already hear the sound of sirens and some people outside of the bus were also trying to pry open the door at the back of the bus.

Giving Lisa a smile of encouragement and taking one more look at the boy, ensuring that the tourniquet was holding and the bleeding had stopped momentarily, Conrad left the two teenagers and followed the sound of another pained cry. He felt a stab of pain just under his ribcage but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. Besides, his breathing was easier now and, except for a few bruises and maybe some cracked ribs, he was okay. There were people who were in much worse shape, so he pushed on, swallowing down a grimace of pain. He knelt next to a woman with a clearly broken arm and gave her a reassuring smile even as he went over the triage protocols in his head. He knew that even when the paramedics arrived, it would take time to get everyone out and treated. By luck, Chastain was the closest hospital, but that also meant they would get the most cases, and they were short a doctor already. He might as well do his job until someone realized he was one of the casualties and benched him.

The wailing of the sirens came to a halt and Conrad sighed in relief when he saw the first firefighters breaking through the door, shortly followed by a paramedic. Help had arrived.

xoxox

It was utter chaos for a while. At least that's how it would have looked for an outsider. But the firefighters and paramedics all knew what to do and they were moving inside the bus with practiced ease, first helping out the least injured and most mobile passengers. The rain was complicating things, but a nearby restaurant had opened its doors and let people hide there, sitting on chairs or making space on the floor. The ambulances kept coming, the nearby hospitals already advised to get ready for an influx of patients. The bus was full and there was over fifty people inside. Not to mention the several people on the street who had to jump out of the way and three more people who suffered cuts and scrapes from the broken glass of a shop window near where the bus had finally stopped.

Conrad was in the middle of it all. When the medics started assessing the situation inside the bus and getting people out, he was making his way back towards the boy with the glass shard in his leg. As he made his way, someone grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Sir, please... don't go any further. If you can walk, follow my colleague outside."

Conrad stopped and turned.

"I'm not leaving," he said stubbornly. The paramedic opened his mouth, but then frowned a bit in recognition.

"Do I know you?" he asked and Conrad thought the face familiar as well, but didn't remember the name.

"I work at Chastain. Conrad Hawkins."

"Yeah, sure! We've met before. Are you okay, doc?"

"I'm fine, just bruises. There's a boy over there with a nicked artery and-"

"I'm sorry doc, but if you were injured I can't let you treat patients. You need to get checked out."

Conrad growled and pulled his arm out of the paramedics grasp.

"I told you, I'm fine! But that boy won't be if you don't listen to me." Conrad knew the paramedic was technically right. He had no business treating anyone after such an accident without being cleared first, but he was also stubborn as hell, and knew his injuries weren't serious. He could see the paramedic giving him a once over, doubt clear on his face.

"I haven't hit my head, didn't lose consciousness. I'm fine. Please. Let me help."

Somewhere at the back of the bus someone cried out in pain, and it was as if someone had flipped a switch. The paramedic gave a quick nod. "Okay. Just tell me if there's a problem doc, and don't be a hero. They usually end up dead," the man muttered and Conrad nearly smiled.

"Well, if we survive this, drinks are on me."

"Deal," the paramedic grinned, then turned serious. "Now show me to that bleeding kid."

xoxox

Getting most of the casualties triaged and out of the bus took almost an hour. There were two people who were still stuck inside, but that was a job for the extraction team and the emergency surgeon from County General who had arrived at the scene about twenty minutes earlier. With him on site, Conrad was finally able to step out of the bus alongside a severely injured passenger who was about to be sent to Chastain via ambulance. The paramedic Conrad had met first had already left with another patient but made sure the others at the scene knew who Conrad was. As the time passed by and one ambulance crew was exchanged for another, however, Conrad's presence became normal. The rain had washed away most of the blood from the small cuts littering the back of his neck and head and Conrad had such a commanding presence, taking things under control, that the newcomers didn't even realize he’d been involved in the accident as well.

As people stopped paying him that much attention and Conrad jumped straight back into the role he was trained for in the army, it was easy to hide the occasional wince or groan of pain when he bumped into things or just moved too fast. But even he couldn't hide the shivering caused by the wet clothes and the constant rain. So when he finally thought he did all he could at the scene and would be more useful at the hospital, Conrad climbed into the back of an ambulance with relief. For a moment, he ignored the patient inside. The paramedic was doing a good enough job of settling him in as the ambulance took off. Conrad winced, feeling every bump on the road as if it were being transmitted straight through him.

"Here, put this over you," the paramedic spoke, and Conrad opened his eyes, a bit startled that he’d let them close.

"What?" he blinked, confused when he saw the shock blanket being handed to him.

"You're shivering. I would catch hell from the nurses if I let their doctor succumb to hypothermia on my ride."

"Thanks, but I'm good," Conrad said. While he would have preferred not to be shaking like a leaf upon arrival to Chastain, the blanket wouldn't be of much help anyway. The last thing he wanted was to look like a victim. Nic or Devon would definitely jump on him and bench him if they saw him with one.

"It's a short ride anyway," Conrad said when he saw the protest forming on the paramedic's lips. The heart monitor started wailing and both the paramedic and Conrad jumped to action, trying to keep the patient alive. That was how Conrad arrived to Chastain's emergency room… running next to a stretcher, barking orders at the nearest nurse. They managed to bring the man back in the ambulance, but his heart still wasn't beating correctly and he had to be intubated.

The emergency room was a mess, but Conrad noted the triage system was well in place. He gave a thankful nod to Nic when she pointed him to a bed and made sure he had all the help he needed, despite the fact they were a bit short staffed for this amount of casualties. But they had dealt with this kind of thing before and they would deal now.

"Are you okay? I couldn't get a hold of you," Nic said as Conrad passed her. He gave her a reassuring smile.

"Yeah. Forgot to charge my phone. Then I got a bit caught up in this mess, sorry."

Nic gave him a dubious look. Conrad knew she must’ve noted the soaked clothes, but he had no visible injuries. Seeing that Nic still looked like she wanted to say something, Conrad decided the best course of action was to focus back on the patient. Someone called her name and Nic left, but not before telling Conrad to get out of his wet clothes. Conrad gave her a distracted nod and promptly forgot about it.

Twenty minutes later, when his patient was whisked off for an emergency craniotomy, Conrad decided it was high time to change into something dry and warm. His teeth had started to chatter and the nurses were giving him second looks. Better get presentable before he caught someone's attention.

The only good thing about the multiple casualties was the fact that everyone was busy on the floor and Conrad had the locker room to himself. He really appreciated that as he started pulling off his layers of wet clothes. Being alone in the room meant he didn't have to fight back the sounds of pain that managed to escape his lips every time he moved the wrong way. And he also didn't have to explain to anyone just how he got that nasty bruise on his side... or the myriad of small cuts littering his skin. Conrad hadn't even noticed the small glass shards on his clothes before, but with all the motion they managed to get under his jacket and shirt and scratch up his skin. He grabbed a towel from his locker and attempted to dry himself as well as he could. He paused when the towel touched a deep purple bruise on his left side. The pain that shot through him was intense and for a second, he wondered if maybe there wasn’t something more serious going on than just a cracked rib and bruised tissue. He let the towel fall at the bottom of his locker, then softly touched the area. He put a slight pressure on the rib and hissed in pain. It felt more broken than cracked. He would have to be careful about moving around, but so far so good. He didn't have much trouble with breathing and he put down the heavy feeling limbs to the fact he spent the last two hours either climbing over the seats or doing CPR on a patient. Not to mention the constant shivering from the wet clothes.

Maybe he should just take a break and find himself a place to get a small lie in. Sleep and a warm blanket sounded like heaven. But then he remembered just how busy the emergency room was and how many patients were still waiting for treatment. Conrad forcibly shook off the feeling of lethargy that was creeping on him and pulled on a warm cotton undershirt and then finally his usual scrubs.

That's better, he thought, closing the locker and heading back to the ER. He would just have to scrounge up some energy for the next few hours, then he could go home and lick his wounds in peace. Or maybe not. If Nic found out he 'forgot' to mention being in the accident himself, she would give him a piece of her mind. Conrad cringed just at the thought of it. Maybe he would be better of letting her know sooner rather than later, so she had enough time to digest it. After all, while he wasn't a fan of being mother-henned, he definitely preferred it over a pissed off Nic. Resolved to catch Nic for a quick chat, he threw himself into the fray of the emergency room. She was nowhere to be seen, so Conrad did the next best thing. He zeroed in on the first patient that looked in need of help, the twinge in his side be damned.

xoxox

Two hours. That was how long it took to get the most serious casualties out of the way. They were either up in surgery or at ICU. The emergency room looked like it had been through a battle, and Conrad seriously felt like he had just fallen and been trampled by a herd of buffalo. He had already forgotten about his decision to catch up with Nic. He saw her a few times, but they were both busy doing their jobs and as time passed by, Conrad knew she would not be happy with him. Right now his own body complained in protest and Conrad winced, his hand automatically going to his tender side.

He knew that the cracked rib would hurt. Hll, the bruise must've reached impressive colors by now. But he wasn't expecting to feel so weak and tired. If anything, Conrad expected the pain in his side would keep him on his feet, but the opposite was true. Things were starting to look just a bit off and he was having trouble concentrating. When he had to ask his last patient to repeat himself because he just didn't catch it the first time, Conrad figured a bit of rest would be smart - before he actually messed up with a patient.

Trying to shake off the lethargy, Conrad grabbed a bottle of water and downed half the contents in one go. He was still thirsty, but his stomach felt full. With a sigh he capped the bottle but kept it at hand. The coolness of it against his skin felt a bit grounding. Conrad headed for the nurse's station. He wanted to ask after Nic. It was time he came clean and maybe let her find him some nice place to crash for a few minutes. He was just passing by the beds in the ER, not really paying attention, when he spotted a familiar face.

"Lisa?" he stopped by the bed with the teenage girl from the bus. She had a nasty laceration on her shoulder and Conrad cringed. He totally forgot about it once the boy was out of the bus. Luckily she was adamant and caught a ride in the ambulance with her friend.

"Dr. Conrad?" she blinked at him, her eyes teary and a bit scared. Devon Pravesh lifted his eyes from his work. He was just finishing sewing up the wound. He looked at Conrad curiously.

"You two know each other?"

Conrad nodded, stepping next to the bed and taking the hand that Lisa was automatically reaching out to him.

"I helped her friend, on the bus. I thought you were already taken care of, Lisa, " Conrad said apologetically but the girl shook her head.

"Everyone was so busy. It didn't hurt.... all I could think of was Jack. Please... do you know if he's alright? I've been waiting for ages, but no one would tell me anything. I just.... need to know. Please?" she begged with huge eyes and Conrad instinctively looked at Devon for answers.

"I wasn't treating him, I'm sorry. But I'll ask the nurses once we finish, alright?" Devon said calmly and pushed gently on Lisa's shoulder to keep her still just a bit longer.

"Please, I need to know," Lisa sniffed and Conrad found himself nodding. "I'll check right now, okay?" he said with a smile and turned to do so. The movement was just a bit fast though as his vision swam and Conrad had to reach out to stop himself from swaying, or worse, falling. He managed to camouflage the motion by pretending to check the time on his watch but one quick glance at Devon told him his subterfuge wasn't as successful as he thought. The man had a frown on his face. Conrad cursed in his mind then, as nonchalantly as he was able, proceeded towards the nurses' station. He could feel Devon's glare following his steps and he once again cursed his luck. Last thing he needed was Devon Pravesh hot on his heels. The man could be more stubborn than Conrad himself when he smelt blood.

Finally he reached the station. He didn't even pretend that he was full of energy and leaned against the desk heavily, giving the busy looking nurse a smile. He waited patiently while she finished the phone call and turned to him. Only when she asked with a tired smile of her own what he needed did Conrad realize that he hadn’t asked for the boy's last name.

"Hey Eileen. I just need to find out about a patient from that bus crash. His name is Jack... a teenage boy. Was brought in with glass shard in his leg, nicked artery?"

The nurse was already looking into the computer, nodding her head slowly.

"Yes, Jack Neals, 16. They took him up for surgery shortly after being admitted. I don't have anything else in here, though. Will have to call up and ask."

"Can you do that please? I treated him at the scene and would like to know if he made it okay."

The nurse's eyes softened and with another nod, she picked up the phone. Conrad let out a sigh and turned around a bit, hoping to catch sight of Nic. Instead he saw Devon approaching him, the frown back on his face. When the man stopped in front of Conrad and crossed his arms on his chest, Conrad knew he was in trouble.

"You forgot to mention something, Conrad?"

Game was up. Conrad shot a look towards the bed with Lisa but couldn't see it from this angle.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," he tried, a bit uselessly seeing as he was leaning against the nurses' desk and pretty sure that if he let go now he would just face plant within the next two steps.

"The little fact you were inside the bus when it crashed?" Devon hissed angrily, arms coming loose. Conrad winced.

"Are you out of your mind, Conrad?" Devon kept going, although at least he was making an effort to keep his voice down. "You were treating patients all this time. If anything happened, if you messed up-"

"I didn't mess up!" Conrad hissed back and wanted to keep going, but then Eileen put down the phone and looked at the two of them.

"The boy is out of surgery, stable. But they are currently pretty busy so if you want more details, you better go up and ask yourself," she gave a slightly apologetic smile.

"That's all I wanted to know, thanks Eileen," Conrad replied and with a sigh, pushed away from the desk, resolved to tell Lisa the news and then go crash in the first empty bed or chair. If Devon wanted to scold him, he could do so while he slept.

His previous assumption was right. He barely made it more than two steps before he was hit by a wave of dizziness. Conrad paused, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop everything from spinning. He swayed on his feet and very likely let out some sound of discomfort, because suddenly there was Devon, clutching his arm and giving him the needed to support to stay on his feet.

"Conrad?" The reproach was gone from Devon's voice, instead there was the familiar tone of worry. Conrad didn't care anymore.

"I think something's wrong," he admitted in a whisper, then opened his eyes. The world stopped spinning but he could see dark spots around the edge of his vision. His heart was beating just a bit too fast and breathing was becoming a chore. Conrad didn't even want to think about the blooming pain in his chest and side, though it was the only thing he could really focus on at that point.

"Yeah, I can see that," Devon muttered, then turned back towards the nurse who had also noticed the problem.

"Any free beds, Eileen?"

"Number four," she said without hesitation. "Do you need me to call Nic?"

"That would be great, thanks," Devon said before Conrad could even protest.

Seeing that he had definitely lost the fight, Conrad let out a groan of defeat and let himself be led towards the bed. He was grateful it was without much fuss and Devon instantly pulled the screen shut for privacy.

Conrad sat down heavily on the bed, swaying. He clutched at the edges of the mattress to keep himself upside even though the pillow was literally calling his name. Devon stepped in front of him, the frown back on his face as he took hold of Conrad's wrist, fingers pushing against the pulse points. By the look on his face he didn't much like what he found.

"What happened Conrad?" Devon asked and Conrad knew the question wasn't about what happened as much as what was the damage.

"I just slammed into some seats. No biggie," Conrad said, trying to play it down even though he wasn't sure why anymore. It felt almost like an instinct to play it cool, as if trying hard not to admit he could be also vulnerable. Or a victim. Never a victim.

Devon snorted and pulled out a stethoscope, gesturing Conrad to pull up his shirt.

"The fact you're using the words 'no biggie' is plenty enough. Slammed how? Chest first? Back?"

Conrad let out a sigh and slowly started pulling up his shirt. He managed to lift it a few inches, but then he groaned in pain. A curse from Devon meant he’d already spotted the bruise.

"Little help?" Conrad asked gruffly, scrubs and shirt half off as Devon observed the bruise.

"Sure," he said, and helped him with the top. Conrad had to take a second to get his breath back under control as the pain seemed to steal it from him. Devon used the moment to put the stethoscope against his skin, listening.

"Deep breaths," he instructed and Conrad wanted to glare at him, but Devon was currently at his back. So he complied, as much as he was capable without bending over from pain.

"Okay, lie down," Devon said and Conrad pulled his legs up on the bed, biting down a groan. He was at the same time thankful to be lying down and uncomfortable with being in such a vulnerable position.

"How's the pain?" Devon asked as he was palpating Conrad's side.

Conrad hissed.

"S-six?" Devon had the decency not to roll his eyes, but his face spoke volumes.

"Out of five?"

"'s just a cracked rib," Conrad said, trying to convince Devon, though at this point he had his own doubts.

"Right. You are pale as a ghost, your pulse is racing, skin clammy." As if to prove a point, Devon attached a pulse oximeter to Conrad's middle finger and turned on the machine. Based on the look on Devon’s face, Conrad assumed the reading wasn’t very encouraging. He tried to move around a bit to see for himself, but just then a familiar head popped in.

"Devon? Did you need some-" Nic paused, taking in the purple bruise that was the size of a large fist now adorning the left side of Conrad's chest. Then her eyes snapped towards the numbers on the machine and Conrad could pinpoint the exact moment when everything clicked. He saw the tensing of her jaw and dangerous glint in her eyes even before Devon could open his mouth and tell her.

"Unbelievable!" she let out, the anger and worry clear in her voice. Devon cringed and Conrad suddenly wished for the sweet relief of unconsciousness. His heart rate sped up just a bit and Devon must've noted it, because he raised a placating hand.

"Nic, now's not the time," he said and Nic gave a jerky nod. She took in a calming breath and Conrad watched as her whole composure changed. For the moment she was back in the nursing mood, the anger over Conrad's lie of omission momentarily pushed into the background.

"What do you need?" she asked and Devon started listing the tests. Conrad was a bit startled when Nic just nodded and left, though it was just for a moment to call in another nurse for help.

„What am I supposed to do with you?" Nic muttered as she started setting up his IV.

"Let me apologize?" Conrad said a bit sheepishly just as the needle pierced his skin. Nic looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're just saying that because I am currently poking you with a needle," she said and Conrad snorted, but it turned into a grimace. The other nurse was trying to take his pants off, taking him by surprise. Conrad jerked. The movement sent a cascading wave of pain through his side and chest and this time, Conrad couldn't stop the moan of pain. He instinctively curled up around his injured side in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain, but it just seemed to increase the pressure and without warning, Conrad started heaving.

There was a rush of hands turning him on his side, eliciting another groan of pain, then something cold was thrust under his chin. It was no use really, Conrad didn't have anything to eat since last night so all he was bringing up was water, but that just seemed to hurt more. By the time he finished, he was shaking and his skin was covered in a cold sweat. The effort and the pain robbed him of the last of his energy and Conrad's eyes slipped closed.

He felt someone tapping his cheek and calling his name, and maybe he even managed a grunt in reply. He definitely made some kind of sound when Devon pulled up his eyelids to check his pupils with a penlight, but it probably wasn't very comprehensible. It surely didn't stop the people around him from poking him and doing things he would have normally at least put up a token fight for.

When he heard Nic's voice calling his name, talking to him softly, he tried to focus. He really did, even managing to turn his head slightly and open his eyes to a slit. He saw her worried face above him, but she wasn't looking down. She was talking to someone else. Conrad thought it must've been something important, because her tone was frantic.

She needed help and Conrad wanted to sit up and ask what was wrong, who hurt her and what could he do to make it better, but his attempt to get up resulted only in someone pushing him back down onto the bed.

"There's definitely swelling in the upper left quadrant. I'd like to do a CT-"

"CT is fully booked right now. Even if we push him to the head of the line, it'll take at least an hour to get the results," it was Nic and Conrad could hear the monitor give a warning beep even as he felt like the bed was ready to swallow him.

"His BP is too low-"

"We'll have to make do with the ultrasound and chest x-ray," Devon said from the distance. Conrad wasn't sure if any time passed or not. Suddenly there was something cold on his abdomen. He let out a choked sound as the pain increased along with the pressure.

"Sh, I'm here. You'll be fine." It was Nic, squeezing his palm and whispering calming words into his ear. Conrad felt suddenly incredibly guilty even though he wasn't sure why. Whatever was happening to him was beyond his comprehension right now. All he knew was that he messed up and now he was paying for it. All he wanted to do was tell Nic not to worry and apologize.

"S-sorry," he managed to utter, but he wasn't sure if she heard him. There was an oxygen mask on his face, but despite feeling the rush of air, he was having trouble breathing.

Time became irrelevant. Conrad could hear voices all around, felt the draft of air on his skin. At one point he felt something cold flowing through his veins, burning, but at the same time bringing relief from the pain. Things stopped mattering. He knew he should be worried about all the ruckus around, but he only caught a few words. And none of them had real meaning to him right now.

"Fluid around the spleen-"

"How's the chest X-ray?"

"Page Dr. Okafor-"

Just not Bell, please, Conrad thought. There was nothing else that could complete his humiliation and probably kill him at the same time. Though he might've been mistaken on that point.

"How is he? How is my son?" A new voice joined the crowd and Conrad winced at hearing the edge of worry in his father's voice. A flame of guilt joined the gnawing pain inside his chest. The last thing he wanted was to worry his dad. Not now. The man was just few weeks out of a life threatening surgery. He should have been enjoying some free time recuperating, not worrying about his son. The guilt was so strong that Conrad fought the sleepiness and actually tried to open his eyes and look at his father. All he could manage were slits, but it was enough to see his pale-looking father standing by the door, trying to get an answer out of Devon.

"D-dad?" Conrad croaked but his voice was lost in everything going on around him. Groaning, he tried to move his arm to let them know he was awake, but the motion was too tiring and he gave up. What was the point anyway? It wasn’t as if he could keep up a meaningful conversation, anyway. Maybe letting go of control for once wasn't such a bad idea.

"We've got you Conrad," Nic said from his side and suddenly there was Mina, adding to the pile of questions and giving out orders. Conrad let out a sigh and his eyes slipped closed. When someone jostled him as he was being moved from the bed to a stretcher, even the sounds vanished. All Conrad knew was white silence and then nothing.

Conrad become aware of noise first; beeping and people talking in hushed tones, as if on the other side of a glass. Shapes began forming, and despite the feeling of dizziness, Conrad finally opened his eyes. He was standing inside the observation room, turned towards the glass separating him from the operation theatre.

There was a surgery going on, and for a moment, Conrad's heart clenched. He flashed back to the moment when he and Nic returned from the party to find his father being operated on by Bell. Conrad leaned against the glass, squinting, trying to see the patient's face, trying to see the surgeon. As if on cue, one of the assistants moved, giving him a clear view. Conrad let out a gasp and took a step back. He blinked, then ran a hand over his eyes. That couldn't be.

"Oh, it definitely is real. And it's you," said the voice Conrad thought he would never hear again.

Conrad spun around and lay his hands on Lily.

"What.... how?" he asked, eyes wide. She was standing there, only few feet from him, looking as real as anything. She had her scarf on but she wasn't wearing the hospital gown, but rather her normal clothes, the jean jacket she loved so much.

"Nice to see you too, Conrad," she said with a smile and there was no trace of pain on her face. Conrad couldn’t remember ever seeing her so relaxed and calm, the last memory of her still haunting his dreams.

"Aren't you supposed to be.... dead?" he asked, still flabbergasted.

"Aren't you supposed to be the smart one? Doctor?" she rolled her eyes.

"This is not possible," Conrad protested, even though this wasn't the first time he’d seen her. It was, however, the first time she hadn’t been giving him a judgmental look, asking for his help or blaming him for what happened. It was the first time she looked real.

"You can think of me as your subconsciousness being an ass," she spoke with a smile. "Whatever works for you."

Conrad gave her a long, studious look, then shook his head and let out a sigh. He glanced towards the glass, but looked away the moment he saw himself lying on the operating table. At least it was Mina, and not Bell, who was holding the knife. Small mercies.

"I don't understand what is going on," Conrad admitted. He was trying to remember what could have landed him there; either on the table or just having a real vivid nightmare. But he was drawing a blank. There was a jumble of memories but they were all connected to patients and work and didn't really explain anything.

Lily sighed and took a few steps closer to him.

"What's going on is that you were being a reckless idiot," she said and the gentle tone of her voice was in stark contrast with the words. Conrad blinked.

"What?" Lily shrugged at his look of disbelief. "I'm just being honest. I thought you of all people would appreciate that."

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about. And what... what is going on over there?" he waved towards the operating theatre.

Lily pursed her lips, as if thinking about the best answer.

"They are trying to save your life, because you was a dumb-ass and purposefully ignored an injury."

"I wouldn't do that," Conrad instinctively protested.

"What about that bus crash?" Lily asked, all innocent, and Conrad's mind was flooded with images of the crash and the injured people around him.... the relentless pain in his side that was just growing stronger and stronger.

"Oh," he said as realization hit him. "That."

"Yeah, that," Lily once again rolled her eyes and Conrad thought she must've been the figment of his imagination, because he never saw her this cheeky while alive.

"Okay, so you're just a dream... nothing else. The meds to put me out are messing with my head," Conrad stated, feeling better at figuring out what he was dealing with. But Lily wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily.

"Point for you. But here's the question: why did you let it get this far?"

Conrad gave her a hard look, then leaned against the glass wall, arms crossed over his chest. It was a ridiculous gesture. He was feeling insecure in his own hallucination.

"Are you really trying to play shrink with me? Don't you have anything better to do... I dunno.... singing with angels or something like that?" Conrad knew he was being an ass but he was still operating under the impression that this Lily wasn't real.

She laughed.

"Really? Becoming defensive in your own mind?"

"If my mind is trying to psychoanalyze me, then why not?"

"Ever thought this is the only place you would let that happen?"

Conrad frowned. Whatever was going on, he didn't like it. He wanted to tell Lily to mind her own business, but she was dead, and it was partially his fault. He still felt the guilt and saw her ghost some nights.

"Why are you here?" he asked in a whisper, his throat tightening up. "Lane is dead. You got your justice. You can go in peace."

Lily's eyes softened and she was now close enough to reach out and touch his face. Conrad was surprised to feel her touch on his cheek. It was warm and as real as anything else.

"If I can go in peace, you should stop blaming yourself, Conrad."

Conrad jerked.

"The outcome doesn't change what happened in the past," he muttered.

"No, but it should take some of the sting off," Lily said with a smile, then sighed and stepped back.

"Why are you here, Conrad?" she asked and Conrad gave her a look filled with confusion.

"Aren't you the one with the answers?"

"Not unless you tell me."

"That isn't very helpful, you know," Conrad grumbled, taking a look through the glass wall. The surgery was still running smoothly if he could say so. No one was flat lining at least, and Mina's movements looked sure and precise. Lily cleared her throat and Conrad turned back to her.

"You knew something was wrong, Conrad. Why did you keep going?"

"There were patients who needed me."

"I call bullshit," Lily said with a raised eyebrow and Conrad snorted.

"What?"

"The last few patients were minor things. And you know if you'd admitted to being hurt, this all could have been fixed that much faster."

Conrad sighed. Why was he even trying to argue with this hallucination? He would just wake up and have to do all of that again with Nic and Devon, he was sure of that. As if reading his thoughts, Lily smiled.

"Maybe it will be easier to face them when you first figure it out yourself, Conrad."

Conrad groaned.

"Can't I just, I dunno.... sleep through the whole thing like a normal person? Instead of having to deal with my crazy psyche?"

"Now I feel offended," Lily said in mock hurt. "You have no better place to be anyway. Why don't you just.... think about it?"

"There is really nothing to think about," Conrad grumbled and turned away. He would rather watch the operation than keep looking at Lily and being constantly reminded of his failure to save her. The observation room was filled with silence. It inevitably led to Conrad's thoughts steering towards what brought him here.

Was it really so hard for him to ask for help?

What did he have to lose?

Conrad didn't like feeling vulnerable. Not as a child and even less so as an adult. Though, if he had to pinpoint the exact moment when he stopped asking for help, it might've been shortly after his mother's death. He remembered his mother always asking for help, always needing someone or wanting something. He remembered all the fights between his parents, but also the fact that, despite her asking for help, she never got it. Not where it really counted. What Conrad took away from his mother's death was the fact that, if someone asked for help too often, the one time when it really counted might be just lost in the noise. So ever since, Conrad saved up his complaints and pushed back his needs. If he needed help, the best thing to do was to help himself. That was the only sure way to fix things. While the army taught him to be more resilient and ask for assistance if needed, it was somehow different. He wasn't in combat today and there were others who were priority. And by the time he should have known better, well... he would blame it on his stupid pride and possible blood loss.

"Asking for help doesn't make you weak," another voice sounded from behind, and this time Conrad froze, his hands curling into fists. He didn't dare to turn around, not until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Mom?" his voice was choked as he took in the form of his mother; of the ghost she should have been. There were no signs of the injuries that caused her death, nor was she pale or translucent. She was touching his cheek, just like Lily had done before and he reached up, taking her hand in his. She felt warm, and alive, and Conrad thought he might weep. But he caught sight of Lily and he could still hear the noise of the operating room behind him.

“This is not real, it can't be."

Lily rolled her eyes, but Conrad ignored her. He only had eyes for his mother, who was looking just like he remembered her; except now there was worry hidden behind her eyes, worry that for once wasn't focused on his father.

"You shouldn't be here, Conrad," she spoke and Conrad swallowed.

"That's.... more my line," he said, then cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

His mother gave him a small but sad smile.

"I'm sorry I left you so soon, Conrad," she said with a sigh. "But I'm really proud of the man that you’ve become."

Conrad had a myriad questions on the tip of his tongue, but somehow he couldn't articulate any of them. Frustrated, he huffed and took a step forward, touching his mom's face, trying to convince himself that this was indeed real and not just a figment of his imagination.

"I'm proud of you, Conrad, but you need to take better care of yourself. You need to stay and make things right with your father. I didn't have the chance and it's one of my regrets. Don't let it be yours, too."

Conrad frowned. He didn't really understand what this was all about. He made a mistake, and he was paying the price right now, but it wasn't like he was planning it to happen. He truly thought he was fine and that he could handle things on his own. Yet here he was, getting a talking to from two ghosts. It all seemed so surreal. They were acting as if he was on the brink of dying, as if there was a choice for him to make. But that wasn't true.... was it?

"I'm not dying!" Conrad spoke resolutely, the offense clear in his voice, even though there was an edge of uncertainty. His mother didn't help with that loving and sad look in her eyes either and Conrad swallowed. Lily snorted, stealing his attention.

"You're awfully sure of that, despite the fact you're talking to two dead people."

Conrad tried to look more convinced than he was, so he shrugged.

"You're just my subconsciousness, aren't you?"

Both women scoffed at him. Conrad wanted to say something else, maybe give a token protest about being ganged up on, when he heard a loud beep, so familiar yet so startling.

Suddenly, pain shot through his chest and abdomen and he bent over, face scrunching up in a grimace as he was trying hard not to scream. He wanted to look over into the operating room, to see what was happening to his body. He wanted the pain to stop, to wake up... but at the same time he was scared of closing his eyes. If all this stopped, his mother and Lily would vanish, too.

As if in reply to his unspoken thoughts, his mother leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"We will always stay with you, Conrad," Lily spoke and her voice sounded from a distance. Conrad blinked, tears of pain clouding his vision as everything was becoming more and more blurry.

"Don't.... don't go," he pleaded.

"It's time you stopped playing around, son. Go back home. There are people who need you and who will be there for you too."

"Mom?" he could still feel her warm breath on his cheek, but she was gone. The one constant beep suddenly changed and there was a rhythm to it again. Conrad felt as if something was pulling at him. His limbs suddenly weighed a ton and he felt like the floor was trying to swallow him. Opening his mouth he allowed a groan of pain to escape before the room, and everything in it, vanished.

The world was a spinning whirlwind of pain, coldness, and an annoying voice calling his name. All Conrad could think of was to beg someone to stop the carousel, to make everything come to a still. Instead there was light and a gentle tapping on his cheek. Conrad blinked up into a blurry face of a woman. She might've been smiling, he didn't know. Her face was hovering in the air, swimming from side to side as if it wasn't a slave to gravity. Conrad let out a pitiful groan. The effort cost him though. His throat burned and the sound made his ears ring. Conrad slammed his eyes shut with force and his arms grasped at nothing and anything. Whatever he was lying on felt unstable, like being on a boat. Even though his hands grabbed onto something solid, it didn't help.

"Stop it," Conrad uttered through tight lips.

"What's wrong, dear?" asked the voice and Conrad wanted to glare at her for the term of endearment. But opening his eyes was a mistake. Suddenly, the dizziness changed into nausea and he knew he had to turn or risk choking.

Eyes wide, Conrad made a move to turn on his side, but his body didn't want to cooperate. He could already feel the bile coming up when the person next to him seemed to get the hint. There was a pair of hands helping him into a better position and something metallic slid between his teeth, sucking out whatever his stomach wanted to get rid of.

The experience wasn't pleasant. If anything, Conrad would rate it as one of the worst in his life... at least for the moment. The heaving was a murder on the stomach muscles, and by the time he finished, his whole chest and abdomen was on fire. And it's wasn’t even like he had anything to bring up.

Conrad thought it highly unfair and decided to tell the person next to him. The woman chuckled and Conrad thought the sound familiar but he couldn't place it. It wasn't Nic or Mina, that's all he knew. It also wasn't his mother or Lily, he thought with certain sadness.

"I'm Tina," the woman said, as if in answer. Conrad wasn't aware he asked the question.

"It's okay, it's the drugs. Looks like you don't do so well with the anesthesia," Tina said and Conrad grumbled. He could've told her that himself. Of all the surgeries he had for his knee.... coming out of them was the worst part.

"Is the nausea any better?" Tina asked and Conrad risked peeling open his eyes. The world was still a bit wonky, but the need to puke had eased up, at least for the moment.

"A little," he admitted and risked a look around. He was in the recovery room, which explained why there was no Nic. Or any of the two ghosts. He seemed to have survived the ordeal.

"Of course you survived," Tina laughed as she was recording his vitals. "Dr. Okafor made sure of that."

Conrad blinked. He wasn't aware he had been speaking out loud, but then everything seemed still just a bit off.

"Can you tell me your name?" Tina the nurse asked and Conrad complied. More questions followed and each one irritated Conrad more and more. He was tired, his throat hurt, and his mouth tasted like something died inside. The last thing he wanted to think about was the current date or president. Finally, when the nurse asked if he knew where he was and what happened, Conrad had just about enough. He closed his eyes, ignoring Tina's request to open them and talk to her. Instead, he grumbled about noisy people not letting him sleep and meddlesome ghosts playing shrinks. Then he swiftly fell back asleep.

xoxox

Coming back to reality the next time was a slower process, but also a lot less uncomfortable. The nausea from earlier seemed to be gone, and when Conrad managed to open his eyes, he was pleased to see that the world stayed in one place. He let out a sigh of relief, then grimaced. His chest and stomach were sore. For a moment, Conrad frowned in confusion, unsure what really brought him into this state. His left arm moved slowly up towards his chest. It was a chore and it left him a bit winded, but when his palm rested on a thick bandage across his abdomen, Conrad remembered.

"Damn," he let out in a breath, just as his eyes caught sight of a blond head resting on the side of his bed. He also felt the warm grip on his right wrist. Nic must've fallen asleep waiting for him to wake up. Conrad debated letting her sleep. He knew that once she woke up he would be in for a lecture... and perhaps rightly so. But he also knew that she deserved to get some rest in the comfort of her own bed. Sitting on the hospital chair wasn't a good idea.

Biting down the bullet, Conrad gently moved his hand and touched the top of Nic's head. He would have liked to lean over and whisper into her ear, but even just the small gesture made him feel weary.

Nic jerked and opened her eyes wide, her first instinct to look at the machines. When there was no imminent danger visible, she looked down and caught sight of Conrad's light brown eyes staring at her.

"You're awake," she said and sat up, forcing back a yawn.

Conrad hummed, his hand becoming her touch. Nic squeezed his hand, a relieved smile on her face.

"Hey," Conrad said, then grimaced at the sound of his voice. It was croaky, as if he hadn't had a drink for a while. Nic understood and leaned over, taking a cup of half melted ice chips.

"I was expecting you to wake a bit sooner," she said as she gave him a spoonful. Conrad would have loved to just drink the whole cup, but when she put it away he knew it was pointless to ask. Even the few chips felt like heaven on his lips.

"How are you feeling?" Nic asked and went into her nurse mood, even though it was way past her shift. Conrad let her fuss over him for a moment, checking vitals and helping him adjust the pillow. The movement hurt and Conrad let an involuntary grimace set on his face.

"Have been better," he admitted, then frowned. "What is he doing here?" he asked, his voice dipping into a whisper as he spotted his father, fast asleep on another chair in the corner of the room.

"How's the pain from 1 to 10?" Nic asked, pointedly ignoring his question.

"Nic," Conrad hissed. "What's Dad doing here?"

Nic looked at the man in question and sighed.

"Waiting for his dumbass son to wake up," came the answer, but it wasn't Nic who spoke. Conrad winced as his father grimaced and extricated himself from the chair. "Though I would have done better if I had just taken a bed in the next room."

"Dad, you shouldn't...." Conrad started, wanting to point out that his father had just been through a surgery himself.

"Don't even think about telling me I should be resting!" Marshall grumbled as he gingerly made his way over to Conrad's bedside.

"But-"

Marshall gave him a warning glare, then sat down on the chair that Nic had vacated. Conrad looked at Nic, eyes pleading for some help. She smirked and Conrad knew he wouldn't get any help. If anything, he would get a lecture from both of them. With a sigh, he rested his head back on the pillow.

"I know I screwed up," he admitted, thinking that maybe showing some remorse would get him good points. By the look in Nic's eyes she saw right through him. He received a raised eyebrow from both her and his father. Great. Were they taking lessons from each other?

"I'm sorry?" he tried, hoping to get this all over while he was still drugged up.

"I don't think a sorry is enough this time, son. How am I supposed to trust in your abilities as a doctor if you are unable to get yourself the help you need?"

Marshall's words were harsh and Conrad felt the hurt from the past resurface. He thought they were over it now, but obviously there were still some remnants, hidden deep. And his father thinking him a failure stung deep.

"It wasn't like that. I would never endanger a patient," Conrad protested, but there was no fire behind the words, only hurt. Marshall must've noticed, because the anger in his eyes vanished just like that. He sighed.

"I didn't mean...." Marshall shook his head. "I know you care for your patients, son. But you must realize that to be a good doctor, you can't come last either. Asking for help from time to time isn't the end of the world."

Conrad froze. The words were familiar, but last time he heard them they came from someone long gone.

"I've already got that lecture from mom and Lily," Conrad muttered, ignoring the startled looks on both his father's and Nic's face. "I get it. No more running around after a bus crash if I'm involved."

"Your mother?" Marshall asked a bit dumbfounded, while Nic took offense at the last sentence.

"Not just bus crashes!"

"Did he suffer a brain injury? And who is Lily?" Marshall asked and Nic rubbed a hand over her eyes, obviously unsure if she should try to reassure Marshall or call a neurologist to assess possible brain damage. For now, she went with the easiest explanation.

"It's okay, it must've been the drugs. Tina, the nurse in the recovery room said he was having trouble waking up. Sometimes the anesthetics can cause strange reactions."

Conrad wanted to protest, to tell them it wasn't just a weird reaction, but with every passing moment the memory seemed less and less real. He had no proof after all and what would it even achieve, trying to convince them? So he let it go, instead asking the question that was in the forefront of his mind ever since he touched the thick bandage across his stomach.

"What.... what's the damage?" He knew there must've been something, because he felt the pull of stitches all across his stomach under the ribcage.

It was Nic who answered the question, but first she sat down on the edge of his bed and gave him an encouraging smile. It instantly eased some of Conrad's worry.

"What you thought was just a cracked rib was actually also a serious laceration on your spleen. It might not have been as bad right after the crash, but you running around the ER didn't help. You were bleeding heavily. There was no time to get you to CT so we had to do with the ultrasound. Mina decided for exploratory laparotomy, but that quickly changed into a splenectomy. You.... gave us a scare a few times, Conrad."

Nic finished and even though her voice was rough by the end, she didn't cry. Instead, she gave Conrad a well deserved glare. Conrad grimaced upon hearing the damage. While losing a spleen was a small cost to pay for the stupidity - after all, if he would've just followed his first thought and laid down in some spare bed without telling anyone, he would have most likely bled to death - it meant he would be off of his feet and out of work for several weeks. That was if there were no complications.

Conrad groaned at the prospect.

"That's ... several weeks off!" he couldn't hide his despair.

"Two to six weeks," Nic jumped in with a smirk on her face. "And you better believe that I'll make sure you take all the time you need. In any case, Mina won't sign off on you returning before you are ready anyway."

Conrad opened his mouth, ready to protest when his father jumped in.

"Maybe that's for the best. After all, you wanted to mend some fences. What better time to do it then recuperating alongside your dear old dad?"

Conrad wasn‘t sure what to say. On one hand, spending some time with his father looked like a good idea. After what his mother told him, he felt the need to reconnect even stronger. Not to mention, this way he could make sure his father wasn't overdoing it as well. It seemed like workaholism was the bane of his family.

"Whatever," he acquiesced with a sigh. Marshall rolled his eyes.

"I was thinking of visiting that old cabin up by the lake once you're set free. Maybe we can do some fishing. Of course, your friends are welcome to join us anytime. What do you say?"

Conrad thought about it. The cabin held a lot of memories of both his parents, but it was also a good place to relax, and far away enough to stop him from trying to get back to work. He knew that if he stayed in the city, recuperating in his apartment, he would just become a restless tiger circling the room until he was finally allowed back to work. By that time, though, he would possibly annoy the hell out of all his colleagues; especially Mina and Nic. Spending a bit of time away would save him from the temptation.

"That's.... not a bad idea," he admitted and looked at Nic. "What do you say? Would you join us for a few days?"

"Well, it depends," Nic said with a twinkle in her eyes. "Is there a fireplace?"

Marshall looked almost affronted.

"Of course. In every room."

"Then I'm sold," she said with a smile.

"Excellent. I'll make the arrangements. And you, son, better listen to your doctor so we can leave as soon as possible. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you in the capable hands of nurse Nevin. I think that chair didn't do me any favors. I need to stretch my legs a bit."

Marshall patted Conrad's arm. It was obvious he wanted to lean down and give him an embrace, but he was still sore from his operation. Conrad wholeheartedly understood, and gave his father a thankful nod. As Marshall left, Nic gave Conrad a proper glare.

"You of all people should know better!" Nic said with reproach, and Conrad understood her annoyance. If the roles were reversed, he would have been scared to death for her, then furious. The fact she wasn't yelling in his face was a sign of how much more self-control Nic had. He knew there were really no words to explain his feelings for her in this moment, but he still tried.

"I love you, too," he said with a goofy smile.

Nic grunted and not so gently slapped his arm.

"You are impossible, you know that?"

Conrad hummed, his eyes slipping closed. Nic sighed.

"Go to sleep then. You will have enough time to listen to the lecture from all of us when you feel better." She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. For once Conrad decided to listen and let himself succumb to sleep, knowing he was safe.

The end

#the resident #resident fic #whumpexchange #whump #hurt/comfort #injured Conrad Hawkins #stubborn Conrad Hawkins #Nic Nevin #Devon Pravesh #and others of course

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beresport · 4 years

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maeleeme · 7 years

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HER

Chapter 02: Beginning

A/N: Story also crossposted in AO3 & AFF.

| Inner thoughts in Italics |

Staring at the screen, Namjoon languidly nodded in agreement. Standing at approximately 5’6” was a petite woman with a sun kissed face with soft rounded cheeks and a cute button nose. Her wide-set eyes were like pools of dark chocolate, framed by neatly plucked eyebrows shaped into a perfect arch. Her lips plump, an attractive rose budded colour which were currently smiling at the camera displaying a set of perfect teeth. She was beautiful… just wasn’t his type.

He glanced at the two members and noticed Jimin so concentrated on the woman. That’s a first… Slowly, a cheshire smile appeared on Namjoon’s face.

“I think our Jiminnie has a crush!” he called out teasingly.

Jimin awkwardly coughed and looked away from the television screen, suddenly caught off guard.

“Just saying she was pretty. That’s all hyung…” he said nonchalantly, shrugging his defined shoulders before picking up the remote and moving the channel into the music chart show he originally was meant to watch before he got distracted.

“It’s not like I’ll ever meet her…” he whispered, not realising Namjoon had heard the whole thing.

Namjoon guffawed, not believing what he had just heard. “What was that Jiminnie?!”

“Ah—ah.. nothing hyung! Just saying how I can’t wait when we starting promoting again soon.” Jimin pointedly indicated towards the screen. Now that wasn’t a lie. BTS were hoping to release an album soon which was to become a part of their chronology.

“Ne.. ne—” Namjoon teased — “You nearly sounded like our international ARMY fans when they compare the limited interaction they get in comparison to our Korean ARMY fans.”

Jimin was about to retort back when Jin-hyung called from the kitchen.

“Dinner’s ready guys! Wash up and come to the table while its still hot!”

“Finally!!” Jungkook yelled out eagerly before rushing towards the kitchen.

To avoid further grilling, Jimin immediately followed the maknae to the kitchen where the rest of the members resided, hoping Namjoon-hyung doesn't bring up the subject again.

Minutes before…

Showtime, Mia thought as the car slowly came to a halt in front of the theatre where the premier was being held, neatly stopping in front of the half a mile red carpet specially set out for this special occasion. Outside, the environment was charged with excitement with one side of the venue consisting with crowds of enthusiastic people lining against the barrier while the other side consisted of press junkets all awaiting behind the winding stanchion with their camera; all set up to interview her and her colleagues. Movie posters were scattered throughout the site and plastered against the railing with the sole purpose to promote the film. A long backdrop could also be seen at the end of the carpet where some of her fellow colleagues were already posing in front of forever hungry paparazzi's.

“Mia…” a voice called out, halting Mia’s admiration of the venue before glancing at Haeun-unnie who was sitting right beside her. Having been in the film industry for only four years, it never failed to astound and surprise Mia of how far she had come and the support she has received and continues to receive from her fans. She was truly honoured and blessed.

“You know me... I don’t mean to pry but what’s happened the past couple of months and what’s happened between you and Rob—“

“Unnie! It’s fine... I’m fine.” Mia insisted. “I just don’t want to waste any more minute mulling over that jerk” — she exasperated — “I’m just glad I found him out before it got any deeper… does that make sense?” Mia asked glancing at her unnie, her eyes also insisting Haeun to not discuss the subject any further. She was in a good place in her life now.

Slowly nodding her head, “As your manager… but firstly your caring unnie—“ Haeun slowly teased — “I want to make sure you're in a right frame of mind. Specially with all of this going on.” she said seriously while nudging her head towards the chaotic site outside.

Mia gently smiled, “I am unnie… I wouldn’t lie to you now.” she said before cutely sticking her tongue out towards her to break the somber vibe. “I know how you love to report everything to Eomeoni in regards to everything about me. I just wished you wouldn’t go into too much detail… I’m 22 for pit sake! Not an irresponsible teen wilding out painting the whole town red!”

Haeun laughed along with Mia. She preferred this Mia. A carefree Mia. As her first cousin, it hurt her when Mia went through such difficult situations. As a close family member, Haeun knew Mia inside out; before the film offers, the fame, before the million dollar contracts. Heck! she had gotten quite acquainted with Mia when she went through her teen angst years. So when Mia was hurt, Haeun was also hurting. She was like the dongsaeng she never had and likewise, Haeun truly wanted only the best thing for her.   Besides Mark who was Mia's younger brother, men has traipsed through her life and caused more hurt than necessary. Sadly started by her own father.

“What’s with the long face unnie? We have no time for your melodramatics tonight!” Mia said teasingly. “My crowd awaits for me!” she shouted dramatically before fluttering her eyelashes and framing her petite face with both hands.

“Araso.. araso. Let’s go hotshot!”

"Just saying!”

Security moved towards Mia’s side of the car before prying the door open. Taking a slow deep breath in advance to calm her racing heart, Mia then gracefully got out of the car and smiled towards the excited audience.   Wanting to keep it simple, Mia wore a slim fitting nude dress, held by two thin spaghetti straps upfront before crisscrossing behind her nude back while her jet black hair was expertly tousled up with soft curled ringlets framing her face. For jewellery, she kept it minimal with a pair of diamond earrings and a white gold thin bracelet encasing her left wrist; both of which were gifts from her Eomma and dongsaeng. A little piece of them that she could bring along to this type of events; her own good luck charms.  To the people around her, she simply looked stunning and elegant. Screams increased in volume at her entrance and she could just about pick up her name being called out by the swarm of people. She glided towards the carpet before stopping midway between the press and the crowd. As per protocol, she faced the blinding cameras first to pose for the paparazzi to promote the film and when it was finally acceptable to move on, Mia turned and greeted the crowd.

“Hey guys! Thanks for coming along and I hope you guys haven’t been waiting for too long…”

“I will wait till the end of time for you!!!” one man shouted enthusiastically, one hand animatedly waving a magazine with her recent photoshoot cover on; with a marker pen in the other.

Grabbing the pen and the magazine altogether, Mia quickly signed her autograph before returning them back to their rightful owner. “Thank you but you’re too kind.” With one last smile she moved down the red carpet greeting her fans and repeating this same process for the next couple of minutes before Haeun-unnie gently touched her forearm and leaned towards her to whisper in her ear.

“You’ve got a quick interview with Tara from Movie Screen Junk.” Haeun said before nodding her head towards one side of the barricade. Nodding her head to show she was aware of the situation, Mia thanked the current person she was speaking to before moving towards the section where the interviews were specifically being held.

“Good to see you again Tara!”

“And you Mia! I also think that congratulations are in order! Looking at this rowdy crowd and according to reviews from the previews, it looks like you have another award winning film bagged.”

“Thank you but I can’t take all the credit! I’ll have to say that our lovely director John Thompson did such an amazing job showcasing the story. All I did was read the script and hope I did a good enough job portraying the character.” Mia jibed jokingly. “But on a serious note, everyone worked extremely hard in order to feature the story and do it justice. Sometimes it can be difficult to transition a books plot line into film and I think John did an exceptional job. It specially helped that we had the author come along to set and worked along with the actors during the filming process. It specially helped me get into the nitty gritty of my character.”

“I think you did more than read the script…”

The interview went on for a couple of minutes before Mia thanked Tara and was directed by the staff to enter the theatre hall in preparation to preview the film. After two hours of watching herself on screen, Mia decided that she wasn’t prepared for the after party and decided to head straight back to her hotel room alongside Haeun who was extremely happy with the films outcome but more than ready to relax. Both knew that they had busy schedules to fulfil for the next couple of months to promote the film so anytime free was golden in their eyes.

Settling herself comfortably in the car for the drive back to the hotel room, she excitedly shouted at Andrew; her driver for the night to play her ‘jams’. Closing her eyes, she contentedly listened.

Soft piano keys started to play in the background before a soothing hum could be heard then a deep voice started to slowly rap. Yes BTS. Hold me tight! Mia smiled dreamily.

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #BTS jimin #park jimin #jimin x oc #jiminxoc #noona

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crowdcontrolcenter854 · 4 years

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B for Basics: Things to Know about stanchions

Many people interact with metal posts every day without realizing it. Think of those times you were in line at the bank, market, cinema, airport, or the local art museum. Stanchions are a common sighting in a lot of places in the country. But, aside from being a tool for crowd control, what else do you know about them? Continue reading to learn more.

What are Its Basic Types?

A stanchion is defined as an upright fixture, a bar, post, or a frame that's used to support something or as a barrier. Businesses use it as a simple way to manage foot traffic. It's also utilized to control crowds, specifically in places where a large number of people are expected to gather. Four of its most common types are:

Post and Rope

Post and rope stanchions are also known as the standard metal poles you see in high-class events or an art museum. They look exactly how their name suggests: They have a column with a golden chain or thick red velvet cord attached to it. When several of these are strung together, they create a classic Hollywood film vibe and bring a subtle elegance to the place

Retractable Belt

Retractable stanchions also have metal poles. But, instead of ropes, collapsible nylon belts connect them. They're highly durable and can manage a large amount of foot traffic. These come in a variety of colors and can be customized with a logo or a message. They're often used in promotional events and commercial areas like cinemas and concert arenas.

Plastic and Chain

Plastic and chain stanchions are similar to the classic post and rope, except they're not made of metal. Due to the materials, these variants are lightweight. To add to their stability, they can be loaded with sand or water. They're also immune to weather damage, making them perfect for outdoor venues like amusement parks, street festivals, trade shows, and parking lots.

Safety

While other types are used to control foot traffic in public places, safety stanchions are utilized as industrial barriers. They're usually manufactured with bright colors such as yellow or orange and are attached with signs that warn people of potential danger in an area. These variants are placed in restricted spaces around factories and maintenance or construction sites.

Do You Need a Stanchion?

Many business owners use stanchions because they noticed that an organized crowd can actually increase sales.

Studies show that the lack of stanchion-created queues can decrease your sales by as much as 60%. Why is that? Because a confused customer often ends up deciding not to make a purchase. So, if you're running your own company, especially if you're in the retail industry, using those posts is recommended.

These fixtures will improve your customers' experience by creating a sense of calmness and orderliness. They also offer merchandising opportunities. While waiting in line, customers can consider purchasing “add-on” products laid out along your queues; ergo, a potential increase in sales.

Just remember, if you're purchasing a retractable stanchion, it's required by law that your fixture has a built-in safety mechanism that slows down the nylon belt when it's retracting. Otherwise, it'll whip around fast, leading to accidents or injuries.

#retractable stanchion

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josephkitchen0 · 5 years

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Improving Goat Stanchion Behavior Problems

By Katherine Drovdahl MH CA CR DipHIr CEIT QTP

We are going to look at several common causes of behavior issues on the goat stanchion so that their experiences can be enjoyable rather than challenging.

Oh man! Who hasn’t experienced the skin-nourishing beauty of goat milk sloshed on their face and lap while trying to hand milk or strip a goat? If you have not yet experienced dancing goat fever, then you simply haven’t worked with milkers long enough. Your opportunity is coming!

First, we need to look at the milk stand itself. The stand needs to be on a flat surface that it will not rock or move when your goat jumps up on it. It also should have some type of non-slip surface in case the goat’s feet are wet. Periodically check all of the fasteners, nuts, and bolts on the stand if applicable and tighten them so that stand doesn’t get shaky or, worse yet, fall apart with a goat on it. A tiny bit of fingernail polish on bolt threads, just before bolting, will help them not loosen up but can still be undone with tools. Carefully run your hands down the neck rails and carefully look over the platform and feed tray/equipment. You are looking for sharp edges and protrusions that could cause your barn buddy pain or injury. Fix any deficiencies before you load a goat. Make sure any milk bucket you use is small enough to easily fit between their legs without bumping. I like mini buckets for this reason.

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Goats are creatures of routine. They feel safe and confident from being handled at about the same times (especially for milking), by the same people and in the same environment. As a prey animal, they notice everything around them and can get insecure because their ability to escape a perceived threat is blocked when they are locked into the stand. New or sudden noises, or fast movements by children, dogs or even hand-raised baby goats they aren’t used to, can cause them to jig. A goat next to them, picking on them, can also be a problem. For that reason, we attach small plywood pieces between goat stanchions to keep faces where they belong. We also milk or do management in a room or area the goats are used to that also is unlikely to have new distractions.

Are goats smart? You bet! When “interviewing” my girls, they also ranked boredom pretty high on their list of reasons to misbehave. I always keep herb mixed kelp at the bottom of their grain feeder so that, once they are through their grain, they still have kelp to work on. In addition, we load no more than two or three goats per person or equipment milking onto stands; otherwise, we can’t finish before they are done eating. Also, watch for moldy or problematic feed or mold on unclean feeders, which will shorten their eating time.

You have one opportunity to make a good milk/grooming stand experience with your goat or kids! For this reason, we do not disbud, castrate, draw blood for testing or tattoo using a goat stanchion. Goats have excellent memories and if their first experiences with a stand or you are those of pain and fear, you may work hard to overcome that later. We try to trim feet on a stand in our barn isle, rather than in the milkroom. To keep that good impression with a new goat or first freshener, plan time to load them on the stand for the first experience. If you drag or rush a hesitant goat, you will succeed in supporting their instincts that they are in danger and make the next time more difficult. Who wants that? Coax, be gentle, reward, be kind. Coming off of the goat stanchion, we always offer a small treat so they end their experience on a good note and don’t risk injury to us or them by just flying off of the milkstand.

Kat with Johanna on her lap

Incorrect milking techniques can also initiate problems with the best goats for milk. Brrr! No cold hands or cold sprays on teats or udder tissue, please, otherwise your goat may levitate! Also, keeping fingernails short so teats are not poked, scratched or pinched is very helpful. Be confident while learning to milk by kindly but firmly grasping teats or touching the udder so you don’t tickle them. If you are using a milk machine, do not allow your goats to “dry milk.” That is allowing inflations to remain on the teats once milk flow is very thin or finished. This causes the vacuum to pull on sensitive tissue inside the teat. This can cause pain, damage, and even can pull out teat tissue. Be sure your milk machine is adjusted to the correct pressure for goats. It will be less pressure than is normal for cattle or sheep with that machine and hose length. Talk to your machine’s manufacturer to learn the appropriate setting for your machine. If you have an ancient cast iron unnamed workhorse like ours, start at eleven pounds of pressure and adjust slowly if needed.

Sometimes, issues with the udder itself can cause “dancing goat fever.” I once had a yearling doe that came into milk so fast after kidding that her teat skin split. A doe may also have a sore, cut or abrasion in an area not readily visible. If she bounces, gently but firmly feel around the teats and udder base, to see if the tissue or skin feels different inside or out, before you jump to conclusions. Also, feel for internal lumps that may indicate mastitis. Blockages in the teats caused by injury, a lump, or even harder (and sharp) calcium crystals in the teats can all cause pain when squeezed. A goat that comes into the milkroom too full may also get upset when you begin to relieve pressure from her stretched-out mammary. Be sure to address any of these issues before blaming the goat for a bad performance. Soothing herbal salves go a long way to giving your doe immediate comfort in many of these situations.

Scaring a goat by performing a procedure they aren’t used to, or not doing frequently, may also get a negative reaction out of them. When trimming hooves, we always make sure the goat feels secure by leaning on them or holding their feet in a way that they can balance against us. A goat out of balance instinctively moves to correct that problem as, in the wild, being out of balance could mean a fall to their death. Clipping goats with noisy grooming clippers can be scary indeed. I usually clip goats starting at the rump and tail end, and most of them, by the time I get to their head, have long since decided they are more interested in their kelp and goodies in their feeder. Other herd management, such as drawing blood for testing, may take two people to keep the goat feeling most secure.

Sometimes, a goat just does not want a human touching her mammary, ever. It may be a goat with a bad temperament or maybe a goat that has been repeatedly mishandled or abused. If you are calm and patient, you may address previous poor management as your doe learns to trust you. Remember to always keep yourself safe from injury as well as the goat. You can put her on nervine herbs and see if, over time, she becomes more balanced out in her behavior. Rescue Remedy is homeopathic product you can also try, which helps many animals deal with fear. Energy medicine may help. If you find, over time, that your goat-whispering skills and supplements aren’t getting you anywhere, accept it’s the one-in-a-million goat that isn’t a good hand- or machine-milking candidate. You may also find that, if you continually have a short fuse when a goat is problematic for a legitimate reason, you are going to be less patient than you need to be and can cause a problem to become worse. Please consider that part of the equation as well.

My hope is that every chore time and session on the goat stanchion will be a peaceful and enjoyable time with your beloved goats!

Katherine and her beloved husband Jerry are managed by their LaManchas, horses, alpacas, and gardens on a small piece of Washington State paradise. Her varied international alternative degrees & certifications including Master of Herbology & lifelong creature experience give her unique insight into guiding others through human or creature wellness problems. Her herb products & consultations are available at www.firmeadowllc.com.

Improving Goat Stanchion Behavior Problems was originally posted by All About Chickens

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janetgannon · 7 years

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What’s the safest way to get from tender to yacht?

The simple transfer of kit and crew has resulted in people in the water, and lives being lost. Chris Beeson looks at the safest way to board from a tender

The biggest MOB risk that we all run is transferring from tender to yacht

What’s the safest way to get from tender to yacht?

It’s difficult to see this for the fraught operation it can be. People falling into the water while stepping into or out of small, unstable boats, is an absolute staple of Saturday night video clip shows. It’s pure slapstick, never fails to raise a laugh and always ends soggily but happily. The reality for cruisers can be less amusing.

For instance, it’s likely you’ll be on your own, or with one other crew, and neither of you will be as lithe as once you were so available physical assistance will be limited.

It’s also likely that you’ll be in a river with the tide rushing past. It’s unlikely you’ll be carrying any waterproof means of raising the alarm, you may or may not be wearing a lifejacket and you could be returning to the boat after a few drinks ashore or on another boat so your decision-making and physical coordination might not be too sharp. All in all it’s potentially a very dicey situation.

In 2012, the last year for which figures were collated, the RNLI attended 71 incidents involving tenders, in three of which people died. Having ascertained that many tender users were not wearing lifejackets because they didn’t want to carry them around while ashore, and felt they would be stolen if left in the tender, the RNLI launched its lifejacket locker initiative. Its first installations, on pontoons in Salcombe and Fowey, have been well used and widely welcomed, but that’s only two locations. Elsewhere the problem goes untackled.

Stability and balance

Even with steps, a lifeline gate and the tender secured alongside, this still looks pretty precarious

Why is the transition from tender to yacht so fraught? At the heart of the problem is the instability of the tender. For their stability, rigid tenders rely on careful weight distribution and a low centre of gravity, and if you’re trying to get yourself or your kit onto a yacht, you can’t do that without moving to one side of the tender and raising the centre of gravity, rendering the tender unstable. An additional problem is the fact that, in pushing yourself or some kit up and onto the yacht’s sidedeck, you invariably end up pushing the dinghy away from the yacht with your feet. Inflatables, while more resistant to rolling because of the buoyancy of the tubes, suffer more with this because there is nothing in the way of a keel to resist the sideways movement.

In this article we’ll address each of these problems and devise a safe way of boarding for the set-up we had, which was a Bavaria 34 Cruiser with an inflatable tender. Obviously this isn’t the set-up most cruisers will have so for each situation we’ll look at other scenarios, the different challenges they present and how best to overcome them.

Where should I come alongside?

Our Bavaria has a split backstay and a wide stern, so the quarter offers secure mooring points and handholds – ideal in flat water

We need a spot that offers handholds. The stanchions and lifelines are not recommended as they’re too low when we get to deck level, even if we trust them to withstand the leverage we’ll exert when hauling ourselves up onto the deck.

We need something above our centre of gravity, which, for the average human, is just above the hips. Essentially that means the backstay, which is split on this boat, or the shrouds, in our case helpfully positioned on topside chainplates, as far outboard as possible. So on this boat, the best places to secure alongside are at the shrouds, or at the quarters.

Use guardrail gates

If your boat has lifeline gates, then that’s the place to board, as the need for higher handholds isn’t so great

The one exception to this handhold rule is the guardrail gate, through which you can scuttle crouched down or on your knees, holding onto the stainless steel frames either side before grabbing a coachroof handhold, without having to step over the lifelines. They’re usually found port and starboard somewhere between the cockpit and the shrouds in a place where there’s enough sidedeck space to put down a few kitbags. In most conditions, that presents itself as the easiest place to board.

We arrived at our Bavaria just at the bottom of the tide so there was little stream to consider. Winds were light too so we could come alongside wherever we wanted. Had there been a stream ripping past and a decent breeze, we would have looked around the boat, particularly at the quarters, to see if wind and tide had interacted to create a patch of flatter water. If it had, that’s where we’d secure alongside. If there was a fair bit of wind over stream and the boat was pitching, we’d have chosen the shrouds. They’re closer to the axis of the pitching so there would be least movement there.

Our Bavaria has a drop-down transom. In calm waters, this appears to offer the perfect boarding spot but first it needs unlocking and lowering. We could do this by holding ourselves alongside the stern, fiddling with the securing bolts and making sure the tender is out of the way when the transom lowers. Though this has its risks, it is doable, but why make life more difficult than it needs to be? It’s much easier to get on board first, lower the transom then bring the tender aft. Another reason for doing this is that we could plug in the removable bathing ladder to give the bathing platform some decent handholds to help us get on board safely.

Different yachts and different tenders

There are plenty of handholds on the transom of this Ovni, perfect for securing a tender fore-and-aft alongside the stern

If your yacht has a sugar scoop or a bathing platform, then it should have handholds good enough to help you climb back onboard after taking a dip. Those will give you secure points to which you can secure the tender fore-and-aft, and help you to board safely. If, however, the boat is pitching, avoid boarding at the transom entirely, as it involves taking risks that simply aren’t necessary. Other boarding options for this Ovni include the lifeline gates, quarters and shrouds.

The arch is a handhold, the ladder offers secure steps, and Mary’s foot is on the tender’s centreline. Textbook boarding

In his excellent feature on tender choice and use, Ken Endean explained how he uses the arch on his Sabre 27 London Apprentice as a handhold while boarding. Together with a set of telescopic steps hung on the quarter, boarding is safe and controlled at every step. Ken’s tender isn’t inflatable so it lacks outboard buoyancy. This means that weight has to be kept on the tender’s centreline to reduce as far as possible the risk of capsize, and we can see Ken’s wife Mary executing that perfectly here, with a secure handhold too.

Classic IOR yacht designs have a pinched transom, often well clear of the water, which may or may not have a folding bathing ladder. There is a single backstay on the centreline that offers a decent handhold but the challenge is to keep yourself close to the stern for long enough to deploy the bathing ladder.

I would not secure the tender fore-and-aft with this type of transom as, even if she isn’t pitching, any passing craft will create a wake that could induce it and you don’t want the bathing ladder and stern crashing down on your tender.

With a transom-mounted rudder, you can’t get close enough to secure fore-and-aft safely

Boats with transom-hung rudders will often have a bathing ladder and a transom that reaches the water, but can you moor the tender fore-and-aft at the stern? Again, if there’s any sort of pitching, why take the risk? If it’s calm it’s a possibility, but I’d want to be sure that the fine trailing edge of the rudder is not in contact with the tube if my tender was inflatable. With the tiller secured firmly amidships, I might think about adding steps to the rudder above the waterline to make boarding easier, but the pintles might not be designed to handle my sort of weight.

For boats without much in the way of sidedecks at the shrouds, any sort of toerail will offer another step to get onto the coachroof, using the shrouds for support. The other option, which makes it easier to load your kit on board, is to secure fore-and-aft alongside the cockpit. The problem with boarding here is that, unless you have an arch, there are no handholds high enough to step on board while steadying yourself. Any wake and you could be pitched head-first into the cockpit, or into the water.

Older boats may offer less favourable transom boarding than modern boats, but their low freeboard means boarding at the shrouds is easy

When it comes to boarding, the biggest single advantage older boats have over modern boats is lower freeboard. Even though it’s likely the chainplates will be some way inboard, as the narrower shroud bases used to dictate, the lower freeboard may well bring them within reach. Perhaps a halyard left shackled to the toerail would provide the support you need to control your boarding? Just check regularly for chafe at the sheave.

How should I secure alongside?

Securing the painter to the tender’s outer grabrails does a better job of preventing it drifting away from the topsides

It is very much best practice to secure bow and stern, another reason why a long painter is essential. Get alongside and hold onto the toerail as you thread the painter round stanchion bases fore-and-aft of the dinghy.

With an inflatable, I secure the working end of the painter to the tender’s outside grabrail. There’s enough buoyancy in the inboard tube, the one nearest the boat, to stand on it while you’re boarding, and the painter serves to prevent the tender from sliding away from the boat.

How to board with a different set-up

With a rigid tender, secure the painter to the near side of the tender’s transom. That way, if your feet stray inboard of the centreline while you’re standing on the thwart to board, the painter acts to support the inboard side of the tender and prevent capsize. To this end, some add a midships line from tender to deck to make doubly sure that you can step on the thwart inboard of the centreline without risking capsize. However, this nearside mooring is not an option if the yacht is rolling heavily, because it could capsize the tender.

This Legend 33 has plenty of secure points and handholds, ideal for boarding in flat water

If the boat isn’t pitching and there’s not much stream running, securing alongside a sugar scoop bathing platform makes boarding easier, from an inflatable at least. Ideally you will have handholds either side of the platform through which you can thread the painter; stern-to mooring cleats on the transom would serve the same purpose.

If you have neither, you’ll need to get someone onto the platform by motoring the bow against the platform to allow them to board with the painter, so that they can thread the painter through stern cleats or pushpit bases before securing to the tender’s stern grabrails. If you’re on your own it’s a bit more haphazard, shuffling your bottom from tube to platform as you get alongside, so I would recommend boarding at the shrouds and bringing the tender aft. Another option for securing bow and stern is to add a sternline to the transom, so you can cleat off the painter then either haul by hand, or use the outboard, to back the tender round to the other stern cleat to get the stern line on.

If you have a folding bathing ladder next to a transom-hung rudder, another option is to secure the appropriate length of painter to allow you to drift back until you’re alongside the ladder, which takes the strength of the stream out of the equation. Release the ladder, hang onto the pushpit, step onto the ladder and board holding the backstay. As the tender’s stern is not secured, it’s riskier than securing alongside fore-and-aft but it works for many. Wear a lifejacket.

What’s the safest way to board?

With the higher topsides of a modern boat, no amount of athletic ability is going to make boarding like this a safe option. With the tender secured fore-and-aft, step from the tender tube to the Fender-Step, then deck, using the shrouds as handholds. For taller topsides, Fender-Step makes a two-step model. Other step fender makers offer up to five steps for even taller topsides

First, check for any traffic that could create a wake that sets the yacht rolling or pitching. If there is, wait a few seconds until the wake has passed rather than risk having your handhold or foothold torn from you.

Like most modern 32ft cruisers with standing headroom for six-footers everywhere below, our Bavaria has plenty of freeboard, well over 1m (3ft). To attempt to board from the tube of an inflatable is a complete non-starter. Even for Theo, a fit young man, it was a struggle.

We tried using an ordinary fender as a step, with lines through both ends secured to the toerail, but the risk of it rolling when stepped on, pitching you face-first into the topsides, was too great to recommend it.

Helpful topside steps

The answer is a ladder, telescopic ideally, that you can hook over the toerail and climb up using handholds. As we saw earlier, it works for the Endeans, and doubles as a man overboard boarding ladder as it extends into the water. However, there is another dual-purpose device that makes the whole business so much easier: a Fender-Step. There are several on the market but we used the one- and two-step model made by Dan-Fender.

It costs around £45 online, so more than twice the price of an average fender, but it serves well as a bow fender, or on the transom while moored stern-to, and it does its second job magnificently. Theo rigged it round the chainplates, put one foot on the tube, the next on the Fender-Step, and the third on the toerail while holding on to the shrouds, then stepped over the lifelines and onto the deck in perfect safety.

For taller topsides Dan-Fender also makes a two-step fender for around £50, and other manufacturers make models with up to five steps. If you can’t secure fore-and-aft at the shrouds, grab the toerail and get your foot onto the lowest rung of a five-step ladder, then grab the shrouds when they’re within reach and climb aboard, yours is an unusual yacht or a frail crew, in which case it might be safer for all concerned to meet them at the nearest available pontoon.

How to get your kit on board safely

Our Bavaria had an unclippable lower lifeline at the quarter, great for MOB recovery and handy for getting heavy bags on board, too

Once you’re secured fore-and-aft, the best way to get kit on board is first to get someone on deck and pass them the bags.

If you’re alone, you might like to fit a feature we found on our Bavaria: a lower lifeline on both quarters that can be unclipped, which allows the bags to be passed under the upper lifeline onto the sidedeck.

For heavier items of kit, attach a block-and-tackle to the boom end, or to a halyard if you’re alongside the shrouds, and use that to haul the gear on board. It works for the outboard too, removing the jeopardy of the transfer of a heavy, unwieldy lump from deck to tender transom and vice versa.

As with almost everything in yachting, there is a quick way to do things, and a safe way to do things. How you manage risk is up to you.

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yachtaweigh · 7 years

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What’s the safest way to get from tender to yacht?

The simple transfer of kit and crew has resulted in people in the water, and lives being lost. Chris Beeson looks at the safest way to board from a tender

The biggest MOB risk that we all run is transferring from tender to yacht

What’s the safest way to get from tender to yacht?

For instance, it’s likely you’ll be on your own, or with one other crew, and neither of you will be as lithe as once you were so available physical assistance will be limited.

Stability and balance

Even with steps, a lifeline gate and the tender secured alongside, this still looks pretty precarious

Where should I come alongside?

Our Bavaria has a split backstay and a wide stern, so the quarter offers secure mooring points and handholds – ideal in flat water

Use guardrail gates

If your boat has lifeline gates, then that’s the place to board, as the need for higher handholds isn’t so great

Different yachts and different tenders

There are plenty of handholds on the transom of this Ovni, perfect for securing a tender fore-and-aft alongside the stern

The arch is a handhold, the ladder offers secure steps, and Mary’s foot is on the tender’s centreline. Textbook boarding

With a transom-mounted rudder, you can’t get close enough to secure fore-and-aft safely

Older boats may offer less favourable transom boarding than modern boats, but their low freeboard means boarding at the shrouds is easy

How should I secure alongside?

Securing the painter to the tender’s outer grabrails does a better job of preventing it drifting away from the topsides

How to board with a different set-up

This Legend 33 has plenty of secure points and handholds, ideal for boarding in flat water

What’s the safest way to board?

Helpful topside steps

How to get your kit on board safely

Our Bavaria had an unclippable lower lifeline at the quarter, great for MOB recovery and handy for getting heavy bags on board, too

Once you’re secured fore-and-aft, the best way to get kit on board is first to get someone on deck and pass them the bags.

As with almost everything in yachting, there is a quick way to do things, and a safe way to do things. How you manage risk is up to you.

The post What’s the safest way to get from tender to yacht? appeared first on Yachting Monthly.

Read Full Content Here

The post What’s the safest way to get from tender to yacht? appeared first on YachtAweigh.

from http://yachtaweigh.com/whats-the-safest-way-to-get-from-tender-to-yacht/

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