Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Unstable Tracks

It had been snowing like crazy all day. Snow pilled up on the sides of the streets, signaling its peak season for car accidents, flu cases, and people who slipped on the ice and fractured something.

Inside County, it was unsurprisingly busy. The ER was buzzing with life contrary to the dead, cold night outside.

"Hey Carter, what are you doing down here?" Dr. Lewis asked when she saw him. "Did Peter finally get bored of you?"

Carter sighs "Oh I wish. He keeps dumping back here anytime he gets the chance. you know, how I am supposed to be a good surgeon if he doesn't let me do anything" he said as they both walked side by side toward the front desk.

"Well, sounds to me like he trusts you" Lewis replied, sitting down at a computer.

"More like wants to torture to me". Carter grabbed a chart that was handed him to him By Chuny. He turned back to Dr. Lewis." You know Dale did more procedures today than I've done all week-combined" he added shaking his head as he skimmed through the chart.

"Well, you know, there're more to medicine than slicing and dicing. Seems like that's all you surgery fellas care about" Lewis said, teasing.

"Haha very funny" Carter replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna go check on my patient who apparently has a 0.28 blood alcohol. Either he drank the entire bar, or he's trying to set a record." He waved the chart over his shoulder as he turned and headed toward the exam room.

Dr. Lewis continued her working at the computer. After a while Dr. Green approached. "Hey Suzan,"

"Hey Mark" Lewis replied.

"What are you up to?" Mark asked as he sat down beside her, writing down hos notes.

"I'm trying to find a good senior living facility for my patient. She just lost her husband and has been living alone ever since. She's awfully frail and can't take care of herself. I found multiple healed fractures from all the times she fell trying to climb the stairs to her bed" Suzan told him with a voice heavy with sympathy.

"No family or relatives?" he asked

"None WILLING to take her" she said shaking her head. Mark nodded and chose silence for his answer.

After a while, Carter walked back toward them, seeming dejected.

" Hey Carter thought you'd be off by now" Mark said.

"Hey Dr. Green." Carter smiled at him. I'm just gonna go pick up Dr Benton's labs and head out. My drunk had liver damage -had to send him up for a biopsy, and he till kept asking for a drink"

Both Lewis and Green laughed.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow guys" Carter said, waving as he stepped into the elevator.

Mark glanced back at Suzan and said "Carter looks beat. Wonder when Peter is gonna cut him some slack".

"Ha, you know that's neve gonna happen" Suzan gave a small huff. She continued "He also pulled a double again".

Mark raised an eyebrow "He's gonna burn out if he keeps at it".

"Well," She said eyes still on the screen, "try telling Carter that".

After finishing up, John walked toward to his car, fumbling coat pocket for his keys. It would've been much faster if his fingers weren't numb -the colas seriously slowing down his motor function.

He finally got inside and quickly turned the key to get his car started, only.. the engine wouldn't start.

John tried again, and again. Still nothing

"Come onn.." he muttered, trying a fourth time and it still didn't work.

Of course. His Jeep wasn't exactly made for Chicago's bitter cold weather. The engine probably froze or something.

He sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his hands. For a moment, he seriously contemplated if he should just go back to County, find an empty exam room and sleep there. He checked his watch-only 7 hours until he was on again.

He finally decided to take the metro back home, even though an exam room sounded too tempting right now, his king seized bed with his favorite silky sheets won the tempting battle.

He stepped out of his car, tightened his coat around himself and made his way the metro station. If he hurried, he could catch the next train scheduled in ten minutes.

The metro station was almost completely empty and kind of eerie but at least the snow had finally stopped, John thought.

The train finally came; he got on and quickly took a seat in the far corner. He rubbed his hands against his thighs, trying to bring some sensation back into them, and blew warm air into his palms.

There were a few other passengers tonight, mostly people who, like him, were just coming off a long shift of work. He glanced at the tired looking woman across from him with two kids, a boy and a girl.

The boy was sound asleep, slumped against his mom side. The girl, however, was wide awake. She had bright blue eyes and was staring directly at him.

Carter offered her a small smile. She didn't smile back. Just kept staring.

What kind of parent drags their children out in this kind of weather in the middle of the night? He wondered. Probably a struggling one...

He thought about asking the woman if she was okay but quickly decided against it. This is not my problem. I should stop trying to fix everyone and everything all the time.

That's exactly what Dr. Benton told him earlier that shift - after Carter had spent over an hour trying to track down the family of a dying old man. " Am I letting Peter rub off on me? "
He wondered.

"No, He's right. I should stop worr...."

The train gave a violent jerk. Carter almost fell off his seat.

He instinctively glanced out the window, but the glass was fogged and streaked with condensation. He couldn't see a thing.

"The tracks are rusty," a tall man said from across the aisle said.

Carter turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"There are stretches where the rails freeze solid," the man continued, shaking his head. "The wheels can skid right over them-makes the whole train jolt."

"Shouldn't the maintenance crew be on top of that?" Carter asked, eying him.

The guy let out a dry chuckle. "You'd think so. But-God help us-they're always cutting corners. I should know. I used to be one of 'em."

He smirked. Carter gave a faint nod in return, unsure whether to laugh or be worried.

The train shook again only this time it was worse. The lights flickered, a soft murmur rolled through the train as people exchanged looks. The kids across were wide awake, clutching to their mother.

The mother didn't say anything, just squeezed her children as her eyes darted toward the windows.

Carter tried to look out again but no use. "Probably just more ice" he murmured softly to himself, shifting in his seat, trying to ignore the tight dread that crawled up his back.

Suddenly, the conductor's voice crackled over the intercom, muffled and broken. "-experiencing some-... technical issues-please remain-seated-"

Silence settled over the car. Thick, heavy silence. Even the usual hum of the engine felt distant now.

Everyone was anxious and probably most decided to get off the next stop. Anxious because they all felt it. That pit-in-your-stomach certainty that something was wrong-something bad was about to happen.

They say that time isn't linear. That sometimes we feel the moment before it happens, like a memory we haven't made yet.

But no one on that train could've known what was coming.

Suddenly, the train jolted.

Hard.

Every passenger-seated or standing-was thrown sideways. Bags tumbled. Someone screamed.

A loud, grinding metallic shriek tore through the floor as the lights cut out, plunging everything into pitch black.

Carter's head snapped forward, slamming into the seat in front of him.

Then came the real impact.

The entire car lurched off the tracks.

Metal screamed. Glass shattered. The train twisted violently as it collided with the tunnel wall, cars crumpling like paper. Carter felt himself lifted, then slammed down-his shoulder cracking against something hard before his back hit the floor. He heard himself scream out in pain.

And then...

Darkness.

Chapter Text

PAIN

For a moment he thought he was dead.

He couldn't feel anything. There was just darkness. Not the kind behind closed eyes, but a deep, weightless void. He couldn't feel himself breathing. Couldn't feel his arms nor legs.

Then it hit him.

Sharp, stabbing pain in his right leg. It flared so violently it stole the air from his lungs.

Groaning, Carter tried to move. His head lolled to the side. A twisted seat had collapsed on top of him, pinning his legs beneath it. Blood trickled down his forehead. He reached up to touch it and winced.

"Damn... even my arm hurts," he muttered, blinking through the haze.

He began a slow self assessment. His ribs-definitely broken. His neck? Okay. He turned it slowly side to side to be sure. No shooting pain. Good.

He took a breath, gritted his teeth, and sat up quickly. His legs remained trapped beneath the debris. Pain screamed through his knee. He cursed under his breath.

Then a low moan echoed nearby.

Carter turned his neck toward the sound. The mother, lay motionless under a pile of debris. The overhead light above her flickered every few second, swaying.

Glass covered the floor. The air was thick with dust.

He squinted through the dark, trying to spot other passengers. A foot poked out from the wreckage near the end of the car.

First, he had to free himself.

"All right.. here we go."

He grabbed the metal beam and heaved. Pain shot through his leg, and he screamed, nearly dropping it.

He paused, sucked in a breath, and tried again. Gritting through the agony, he managed to shift the debris just enough to pull his leg free. He exhaled sharply. Blood soaked through his pants, but it didn't look arterial.

He tore a strip from his shirt and tied it tightly around the wound. Crude, but it would hold for now.

Forcing himself up, leaning against the wall for support, he limped toward the woman.

Debris covered her torso. He gently brushed it away, checked her pulse. Weak and thready. Her arm was clearly broken; her abdomen was distended.

"Ma'am?" he said softly, crouching beside her. "Can you hear me?"

She moaned, shifting her head slightly.

"Try not to move too much. You've been in a train crash. You're hurt".

I'm also involved and here I am, he thought wryly. Typical.

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused "Ali... Austin... where.. where are my babies?"

Carter swallowed hard. "They might be nearby. Please don't move. You may have internal bleeding. I'll find them- I swear. But you have to lie still."

She grabbed him arm weakly. "Please.. find them"

"What's your name?" he asked gently.

"Maggie" she whispered.

"Okay, Maggie. Just keep breathing. I'll be right back"

He stood, ribs flaring with pain, and moved deeper into the wrecked train car.

The few light panels that were still hanging flickered as he picked his way though broken sets and twisted metal.

From the corner of his eye, he caught movement. A tiny figure huddled beneath a bent row of seats; arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

It was the little girl, Alison.

Carter limped toward her, trying to keep his voice low and steady. "Hey. You're safe now,"

"It's so dark..." she whispered. "I don't like the dark. There're monsters in it"

"Don't be scared. I'll protect you," he said gently. "My name is John. I'm a doctor. Your mom's here too—she's hurt, but she'll be okay."

Alison slowly raised her head. Her face was streaked with soot, cheeks scratched, eyes wide with shock.

"You're a doctor? You help people?" she whispered.

"Yeah. I just want to check you over, okay? I promise I won't hurt you."

he nodded faintly.

He crouched beside her and carefully looked her over. A few scrapes, minor cuts on her arms, and a swollen ankle—probably a sprain. But no major trauma. Thank God.

"You're doing so well," he said with a small smile. "You're really brave."

Just as he was about to scoop her up, something caught his eye.

A still form—half buried in twisted beams and wreckage. The construction worker. The man who had warned him about the frozen tracks.

Carter's breath hitched. He didn't need to check for a pulse. The angle of his neck said it all.

Instant death.

Carter's gut clenched, but he forced himself to look away. There were still people he could help.

He picked Alison up gently, wincing as pain tore through his leg and ribs from the added weight.

"Hang on tight, okay?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him. "My brother... Austin. Can you help him? He's still there."

Carter's heart sank. "Do you know where he is?"

She nodded weakly and pointed behind him, toward the far end of the car.

"All right. I'll find him. I promise."

He tucked her into a relatively clear spot against the wall, wrapping her in his coat.

"Stay here, sweetheart. I'll come back."

She looked up at him, eyes huge. "Promise?"

"I never break promises," he said softly.

Carter moved deeper into the wreck, stepping over shattered glass and crawling past bent poles.

That's when he saw Austin. The boy was barely conscious, slumped against a broken bench. A long shard of glass was embedded in his side. He was ghostly pale—even in the dim light.

Carter dropped to his knees. He reached for the boy's pulse—weak, thready, but present. Breathing shallow and strained.

"No organ signs... possibly superficial," Carter murmured.

Then—he spotted it. A red emergency kit still strapped to the crushed wall.

He tore it free, opened it with shaking hands. Gloves, gauze, tape.

With as much care as possible, he pulled the shard free. He couldn't risk moving the boy with it still embedded. Blood welled instantly, but not as much as he feared. A muscle cut. Painful—but survivable.

He packed the wound, pressed hard, and wrapped it tightly.

Then he sat there for a beat, breathing hard. His own leg throbbed. Every breath stabbed his ribs. He was dizzy. How long had they been down here? How much longer could they last?

He spotted a faint metallic glint beneath a collapsed coat rack. Reaching over, he pulled out his shoulder bag—dusty, but intact. The strap was torn, but the zipper worked. Inside, among some scattered bandages and a half-eaten granola bar, was his stethoscope.

He held it for a second, fingers tracing the tubing. A small piece of himself had survived the crash.

He draped it around his neck instinctively, like armor.

One by one, he reminded himself. That's how you do this.

He picked up Austin slowly and carried him back to Alison.

She gasped when she saw him.

"Is he okay?"

"He will be," Carter said gently, laying him down. "But I need your help."

She nodded quickly.

"Put your hands here," he guided her. "Just like that. You're doing great."

A low moan echoed—Maggie.

Carter rushed back to her side. She was barely conscious. Breathing shallow. Her face pale and damp with sweat.

Her chest wasn't rising evenly. He leaned in, listening carefully—no breath sounds on the left.

Distended neck veins. Tracheal shift. Labored breathing.

Tension pneumothorax.

"Damn it."

He dug through the kit. No large-bore needle—but a smaller one would have to do.

He plunged it into her second intercostal space.

Hiss. Air escaped. Her breathing eased slightly.

It wasn't a fix—but it bought her time.

He taped the needle down and looked around.

Still no sirens. No rescue. Nothing.

He turned to the far end of the car. A wall of rocks and concrete sealed it off.

They were buried.

He felt a sick twist in his gut. What if no one found them?

Then he looked to the other end. The front hadn't fully collapsed.

Maybe...

He limped over and grabbed a loose crowbar. At the front door, twisted and jammed, he wedged it in and heaved.

With a screech, the door popped loose.

He stepped into the next car. Just as wrecked. The windshield was gone. The driver slumped over the controls—clearly dead.

Still, Carter checked. No pulse. Blood soaked the dashboard.

Then—movement.

Behind an overturned row of seats, someone stirred.

"Hey!" Carter called. "Can you hear me?"

A man in his thirties sat up quickly, clutching his shoulder.

"Man... I thought I heard someone. My shoulder—I think it's dislocated."

"What happened?" the man asked, dazed.

"Train crashed. Tunnel collapsed on us. We're lucky to be alive," Carter answered. "Can you stand?"

"I think so."

"Good. I've got three injured people back there. I could use some help."

The man nodded. "Name's Ryan."

"John," Carter said.

Ryan cradled his bad arm and followed Carter back through the twisted doorway.

"You a fireman or something?" he asked.

"No. I'm a doctor," Carter replied. He gestured toward the kids. "Watch the boy. Keep pressure on the wound. I need to check their mother."

Ryan made his way over and knelt beside Alison. Carter could hear her introduce herself, and then—her small, nervous laugh.

It made him smile.

He crouched beside Maggie again. Her pulse was holding steady. Unconscious, but stable—for now.

Carter wiped a shaking hand down his face.

Then he looked out the shattered windshield into the darkness beyond.

Still no rescue.

Still alone.

He and Ryan would have to keep everyone alive until help came—
—or go find it themselves.

Either way, the clock was ticking.