<strong>Sam Cole -- Back of the ambulance -- performing emergency CPR on a fast-fading patient</strong><br/><br/>The sirens were blaring at full volume on the ambulance roof as Jerry sped through the downtown streets, swerving around the occasional late-night traffic. The streets were thankfully empty for the most part, and the ride was smooth enough to let Sam inject the coagulant directly into the young man's vein before beginning to attempt emergency resuscitation procedures. Blood spouted from the gash in his arm in rhythmic spurts, in time with his dwindling heartbeat. It would have been soothing if it weren't so damn terrifying.<br/><br/>Except Sam wasn't terrified. Her heart rate had barely changed all night, and she'd been as calm and cool as a cucumber. '<em>That's not right, though. At the least, I should be experiencing heightened adrenaline, but I don't feel stressed at all. And Jerry, too. Three calls in less than three hours, and I don't think I've seen his facial expression change once.</em>'<br/><br/>Her hands moved steadily, pressing bandages in place and securing stints and tourniquets with more than her usual practiced ease. '<em>Is it apathy? Do I just not care about my job anymore? About these people? That's...that's not like me</em>.' She knelt beside the injured man, pumping her fists up and down on his chest in time. '<em>That's not like me, dammit!'</em><br/><br/>Sam's arms felt like melted rubber as she felt Jerry pulling the wagon into the hospital bay, and heard the patter of orderlies' shoes rushing out to collect the patient. It was already too late, though. With as much blood loss as the man had suffered, there was almost no chance of saving him now. Her efforts had been in vain. Samantha's eyes softened and she pressed her palms against his chest, just above his heart, and a single tear slid down her cheek.<br/><br/>"...no."<br/><br/>So much death. So much pain. So much violence, and suffering, and misery.<br/><br/>And she didn't care?<br/><br/>"...No."<br/><br/>She had no idea what was wrong with this world. What was wrong with her. But all of it would be damned to Hell and back again before she would let it stop her from caring anymore. Her vision was becoming blurry with tears, and pain started to wrack her body as a faint light began to shine in the back of the ambulance, emitted from the downturned palms of her hands.<br/><br/>"<strong>NO</strong>."<br/><br/>A sharp groan distracted her for a moment, and she looked down to see the young man's chest rising and falling in a more natural, easy rhythm. Sam's eyes widened in disbelief as she stared down at the dying man...who was no longer dying. A piercing pain, sharp but shallow, rocked her back onto the small bench. She held back a scream as the orderlies jerked open the door and pulled the patient out, apparently oblivious to her distress. From miles away, she heard Jerry congratulate her on a job well done, and nodded shakily.<br/><br/><em>'What...the FUCK...was that?'</em>