CARING STRANGER

Andy whistled to himself, hooking his work apron on one of the many hooks in the kitchen and waved a goodbye to his sleepy eyed workers. "Have a great night everyone!" 

The cook chortled, appearing in the small partition. "We all know that was sarcastic, Andy. Stop gloating and just bugger off."

"Oh how your kindness warms my heart," he placed a hand on his chest, where his heart was. "Even though you are all highly entertaining, I unfortunately have to go home to my cosy bed and gorgeous girlfriend." 

"Yeah, sucks to be you," the cook muttered, her head vanishing from the partition. Other staff only smiled, accustomed to their shenanigans. Andy shouted a retort, for it only to be heard on deaf ears. Shrugging, he yelled a quick goodbye and walked outside. 

Warding himself against the cool summer night chill, he huddled in on himself, keeping his head down. The darkness seemed to stretch to the dawn of time, with the moon peeking its head at the earth, emitting dull rays. Andy could only just recognise the faint shape of his battered car in the distance, and casting a glance side to side he picked up his pace, terrified of what or who lingered in the shadows. 

His heart racing, he tucked his hands in his pockets, his car mere metres away. Andy had been used to the crippling fear of going outside every time he worked a late shift, yet he couldn't be picky, especially since he was saving up to buy his girlfriend a ring. 

He was nearly there when he felt the tip of his foot make contact with something, and he went plummeting to the earth. Letting out a surprised cry, he had no time to brace himself for the inevitable impact. It didn't come. 

Andy landed, his face scraping at the ground. His body had been oddly cushioned, and confused his hand left his pocket, slowly creeping up to what had shielded him from the ground. In an instant, his hand became extremely slick with something. His breath caught in his throat, and he pressed down. 

Flesh. 

Shocked, the man scrambled off of the body. He fell into a patch of murky light, it reflecting the colour of his hand into his eyes. There was blood on his hands. 

Fumbling for his phone, he grappled to tap the numbers in. The screen became sticky with the persons blood, but he didn't care as he lifted it to his ear, holding it up by supporting it with his shoulder. 

Ring. 

He reached for their neck, gently moving dark strands of hair out of the way. Gently, he applied a light pressure to their neck, searching for a pulse. 

Ring. 

A faint heart beat answered his prying fingers. Not realising he'd been holding his breath, he sighed, feeling his shoulders slump slightly. 

"Hello, what's your emergency?" 

"Um, hi," Andy stuttered, distracted. He turned their body over with his free hand to analyse the damage that had been caused. "I need an ambulance, I just found someone in the parking lot half dead." 

His breathing intensified when he saw her face. It was one of the women he'd served that night, who sucked up all of the milkshakes in the diner. Blood flecked across her face, and her shirt was torn. The material was heavy with the blood drenched into it, which got a deeper red the closer to the gaping hole in her stomach. 

"Sir? Where are you?" 

"I'm at the diner on Church Street. Please hurry," he pleaded. 

The voice on the other end of line reassured him calmly, saying that the ambulance was on it's way and that they'll be okay. "Can you see a reason as to why this person could be in need of an ambulance?" 

"Well the stab wound in her abdomen is a pretty good indicator to me." He couldn't control his sarcasm, his mind too busy whirring thoughts of the grotesqueness of it. Andy slowly breathed out, praying that he wouldn't throw up. 

Brushing off the unnecessary tone, the person kept asking questions. "How bad is the injury?" 

Andy tossed a quick look at the wound, feeling his stomach squeeze. He averted his eyes, focusing on not being sick. "It's very bad."

"Do you have an idea of how much blood she's lost?" He heard a faint tapping in the background, and he thought that it must be the person logging all of the information that they'd need. 

"I have no clue, there's a reason I work at a diner." He let out a small, shaky breath. "There's a lot, it's pooling under her and it's staining her clothes." 

"I know that this is difficult of me to ask of you, but I need you to apply pressure to the wound. It'll slow the bleeding down, and she needs to keep as much blood as she can until the ambulance gets there."

Andy blanched. Gulping, he forced his eyes to assess her stomach. He felt bile rising within him, and the thought of touching it sent his breathing into a race. "I don't think I can." 

Their patience was wearing thin, and they spoke in a rushed and agitated tone. "It's not a matter as to whether or not you can do it, it's a matter of doing it. You need to do this otherwise this woman will die, do you understand me?" 

Taken aback, Andy only nodded, forgetting that the caller couldn't see him. He placed the phone near him, a few inches away from the blood and dragged himself closer to her side. "Don't throw up, don't throw up." He chanted, throwing his hands to the wound. Immediately, as though her body was rebelling his hands, red liquid began running between his fingers, through every nook and cranny. 

"Sir?" 

Andy was terrified to open his mouth, his stomach rolling over. He regretted having ever eaten, and he clenched his teeth together to fight back the burning vomit creeping up his throat. His eyes watered from the sour taste, and he reluctantly swallowed it down. 

"Sir?" The voice had risen in urgency. 

With his weak stomach preparing to make his dinner appear again, he managed out a few words. "I did it." 

A huge intake of breath sounded through the microphone. "Thank god." 

Screeching sirens in the distance gave Andy courage, and not thinking twice he pushed down harder, hoping that the blood flow would stop. 

* 

Andy waited in the corridor, his red crusted hands cradling his face. Ebony, which Andy learned to be the woman's name, was in surgery, and he'd been given the task to go through her contacts to tell them what happened. He'd been putting it off as long as he could, but eventually he accepted the task. 

Huffing, he read the three contacts in the phone. Dean, Sam, and Rebecca. It made his heart clench that she didn't have that many people in the world. He wondered if Rebecca was the woman she'd been with tonight. 

Clicking on the first contacts name, Dean, he raised the phone to his ear. Andy began to bite his nails as the rings got longer, until eventually they stopped. 

"Hey." A deep voice vibrated through the phone. He sounds intimidating, Andy thought to himself. I bet he has a lot of tattoos, or scars. And I bet that gets more action in a week than I had in my entire college experience.

"Um, hi? I know this is weird, but I'm wondering if you're friends with a girl named with Ebony?" 

Silence sounded on the other end. Andy could barely make out a low mumbling, before the voice became harder and more demanding. "How do you know her? And how did you get this number?" 

"She was at a diner tonight, correct?" Andy didn't wait for an answer. "When I finished my shift, I found her stabbed in the parking lot. She's in surgery now, but the doctors wanted me to call you and tell you. Your number was on her phone." 

Worry seeped through his voice. "Is she okay?" 

Andy paused in biting his nails, staring down at the nibbled beds. "They haven't given me an update recently, but she wasn't doing too good when she got in there." 

Sounds of protest went through the phone, and then a different male spoke. "Which hospital? Where?" He rattled off the details to the man, eyes falling to the doors to the room where they were performing the surgery. "Okay, me and my brother will be there in twenty minutes. If anything changes, call us straight away." 

He hung up. Andy groaned, leaning his head in his hands. That was much harder than he'd expected, and he then knew why he didn't want to pursue the same career as his father. Sure, being a doctor had its perks, but you couldn't save everyone, and he didn't think he'd have the guts to tell people that he'd failed. 

Knowing that he had two more people to call, he rubbed at his eyes, flakes of red cracking loose, and he pressed the 'call' button under Rebecca's name. The phone continued to ring, and then he was hit with the irritating automated message. He couldn't not tell her, so he decided to leave her a voice message. He told her everything that had happened, and where Ebony was if she wished to come see her. He did the same when Sam didn't pick up his phone either. 

 Exhausted, he laid his head on the back of the chair. It'd been a long day. 

* 

Andy was rudely awakened to someone shaking his shoulder. Sleepy, he batted at the hand. 

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty." Someone sang, slapping his face. A stinging sensation flared across his cheek, and Andy bolted up, head colliding with someone else.  He moaned, softly stroking the place he'd banged it. 

Opening his eyes to slits, his eyes fought the florescent lights. He murmured. "Well, wasn't that a bit rude." 

Two tall men stood before him, with a familiar woman standing beside them. They all shared the same anxious facial expression, that bonding them better than any amount of time. 

"We aren't exactly concerned with manners at this moment in time." The green eyed one spat. His companion placed a hand on his arm, sending him a stern glare. 

"Cool it Dean, it's not his fault." Dean shook the hand off, rolling his eyes. 

The woman 's eyes filled with tears, and she confessed. "No, it's mine. I should have stayed, I should have stayed!" She grew more hysterical by the minute, repeating the same four words. Her body was guilt ridden and no matter what anyone said to calm her she got even more distressed. "Stop lying to me! I know it's my fault, when they attacked us she told me to run and I did because I'm a coward. I'm a coward." She shuddered under the overwhelming pressure of regret. 

"You couldn't had known, Rebecca. All we can do is hope that she's okay." Sam smiled sadly at Rebecca.

"What good is hope when the world is full of sin? The cowards outweigh the soldiers, and the villains outweigh the heroes. Our world is up to the brim with evil that something as childish as hope won't do anything." Rebecca tangled her hands into her hair, collapsing into one of the plastic chairs. 

Dean shook his head, mouth open as he let out a scoff. "Wow, you sound as though you've given up. If you've given up, you've given up on Ebony, and she does not deserve that." 

"There's nothing to give up, because she'll be dead soon! You heard what he said," she threw an accusatory glare at Andy. "She won't survive." 

"She's survived much worse than this, trust me. To her, this is just a scratch. She'll be right as rain, I know it." 

This sparked curiosity in Andy, but he didn't ask anything, terrified of having his head bitten off. 

"My god, you're so naive Dean!" Rebecca jumped to her feet, squaring up to the six foot man. "Stop being so blind and face the truth."

Sam thrust an arm between them, pushing them apart. "Dead or not, we owe it to her to sit in here patiently and wait. So, that means no arguing or snide comments, we're here for Ebony, not for you two to have a cat fight." 

After his speech, the two feuding people sent one last cold glare at each other before departing, sitting at opposite ends of the waiting room. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of their immaturity. 

Andy awkwardly cleared his throat, gaining Sam's attention. At the two sides of the room, Dean and Rebecca were both listening intently to what Andy had to say, occupying themselves as to not look as though they were eaves dropping. He quickly scrounged around for a pen and ripped a part of paper off of the display behind him. As he spoke, he wrote down a series of numbers. "I really need to get back home to my girlfriend, but this is my number. Text me, or call me, when she gets out of the surgery. I just - I need to know if she's okay."

Sam nodded his head silently, taking the paper and inputting the numbers in his phone. "Have a safe ride." 

"Thanks," Andy smiled, walking out of the hospital. 

Later that night, he got a text. 

She's going to be okay. 

-

okay so this chapter was a bit different, with the different POV, and I thought it was quite refreshing - what did you guys think? after writing this chapter, I've come to realise that I really like Andy's character. I had an idea to maybe write a spin off with Andy being the main character, and I don't know, I just really like the idea. please tell me your thoughts.

there are only ten chapters left of this book, and I'm wondering if any of you would be interested in a sequel? I'd love to know, I have the idea and plot sorted!

adios assbutts 

-thirdwheelchurchill