OOC: Bear with me and my lack of medical knowledge. Wikipedia = <3. [OOC: Hope y'all don't mind me jumping in here? :D The fangirl in me couldn't resist helping poor Dean. D:]
Perry Cox couldn't help turning his head to see what the commotion was as the nurse bolted past him shouting for a doctor. He was stood by the reception desk after paying a visit to look around the hospital like that doctor he'd met on his first day here had suggested. After all, if he was gonna be stuck here for a while, the least he could do was actually make himself useful and get back to work; he hated those slacking, lazy types who didn't bother finding jobs and stayed at home all day, they irritated the bejeezus outta him.
Anyway, he'd been stood there about fifteen seconds filling out some damn visitor's form, when he heard the noise behind him, and turned just in time to catch sight of the kid hitting the ground.
Both eyebrows shot up. Apparently, this place was a little livlier than he'd thought it would be. He stood against the desk for all of five seconds before realizing no one in a white coat was actually appearing, and the boy was just surrounded by nurses and a couple orderlies. Rolling his eyes with a, Goddammit, do I have to do everything around here?? look all over his face, he reached behind the desk, snagging a pair of latex gloves out of the box there, and started shrugging off his jacket as he stalked over to the cluster of nurses.
"All right, make way, ladies." He didn't particularly care that he didn't work here, he was going to command anyway. The doctor in him - the part that many of his coworkers had seen and been amazed by, the part that really and truly cared about each and every innocent, non-asshole, non-junkie person who came through the hospital doors - had taken over, and he wasn't about to just sit back and watch the man suffer while waiting for a doctor to give him a little attention.
His jacket hit the floor and he began snapping on the gloves. Holy shit, someone had done a number on this kid. He was bleeding out all over the floor from so many different places Cox couldn't even begin to think about using elevation as a method to combat the bleeding. He inhaled once, deeply, before blowing the breath out in a sigh and starting to bark orders at the nurses.
"You - I want bandages, pads, fucking scrubs, I don't care, just get me enough to stop the bleeding! You - he's ruptured his femoral, get me a tourniquet for his leg. You - hand there, put pressure on this. You - pressure here. You - pressure here. You - I need a crash cart in case he goes into cardiac arrest, and you - get him oxygen! We need to stop him from going into shock and check for internal bleeding."
He glanced up at the three nurses he'd asked to fetch him things, and yelled, "Go!" as if they were stupid. He didn't give a shit that he didn't work here, this kid was bleeding from... well, he could count at least six different wounds, and he had a feeling there were more beneath his clothes.
He wasn't planning on using the tourniquet unless he had to, but if the kid started dying on them he wouldn't have much of a choice and wanted to have one nearby. He was bleeding out so hard that Perry was finding it some kinda miracle that he'd even been walking.
Kneeling admist the nurses whose hands he'd pushed down onto some of the kid's wounds to stop the bleeding, Cox held his wrist over his mouth to check that he was still breathing, snatching the stethoscope off of the shoulders of the nurse next to him to check his heart beat.
"Kid, can you hear me?" He wasn't even sure at this point if the boy was conscious, or semi-conscious, or completely out of it. He needed to try and keep him as awake as possible. "Hey, kid, what's your name?"