Brian

“My name is Nancy, can you hear me?”

Of course I can hear you – you’re yelling in my fucking ear. And I really wish you would stop. And who the fuck is Nancy? And why is it so fucking cold in here? All valid thoughts, but nothing came out when he tried to speak. He fought to open his eyes but they weren’t cooperating either. Fuck this! He tried again and caught a brief glimpse of blond. Justin?

“Are you with me? I need you to answer me, Brian.”

“Come on, Brian. Talk to me.”

His eyes fluttered open again and the blonde came into focus. No, not Justin, but just as persistent as the little twat. He swallowed painfully and tried to wet his lips without much success. The words came out as little more than a raspy whisper, barely audible through the mask but clear enough to make her smile.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Nancy. We’re here to help you, Brian.” We? She saw his eyes shift and answered his unspoken question. “This is Glenn. We are paramedics and you’ve been injured.”

Fuck. Did she really think he didn’t know he was injured? He wanted to scream just from the effort it took to breathe and she was telling him he was injured. Jesus Christ. Then he tried to sit up and holy shit! Maybe he did need the reminder. He groaned and fell back, shaking from the pain and the cold.

“Don’t try to move, sir,” the younger medic put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re working on getting you out of here, but you need to stay as still as possible until we do, okay?”

Yeah, a little late with that advice there, genius. He decided to stick with the blonde. “Hurts like a motherfucker.”

She could barely hear him but didn’t need words to know that he was suffering. “We’ll give you something for that soon, I promise.” She tucked the blanket back around him and pushed the hair back off his damp forehead. He tried to pull the mask off – the cool air it was pumping was just about killing him. “Leave it, Brian.” She took his hand and moved it away.

“So fucking thirsty.” His voice caught on the words and hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help it – his throat was on fire. Nancy exchanged a look with Glenn, who only shrugged in return and nodded slightly. He reached around behind her and grabbed a bottle of water from her bag. It was totally against procedure but neither of them felt the least bit wrong about it – a little bit of water was going to be the least of this man’s problems. He unscrewed the cap and handed it to Nancy, then went back to squeezing the saline into him. She lowered the oxygen mask and slipped her hand under his head. It was awkward with the collar but she held the bottle to his lips.

“Take it easy, okay? Just a sip.” He took a mouthful and most of it dribbled back out, but just wetting his lips seemed to help. He swallowed and took another small drink and she felt him relax a little more. He opened his eyes again, still clouded with pain but calmer. He even managed a grim smile.

“If I wasn’t a fag, I might just kiss you for that.” She handed the bottle back to Glenn and looked sideways at her patient – even in this condition she could see how beautiful he must be. It made her want to cry to know what somebody’s hate had done here tonight; instead she smiled back and winked at him.

“If I wasn’t a dyke, I might just let you.” He rolled his eyes and she slipped the oxygen mask back on him before he could make the remark she knew was on his tongue. He was quiet for a moment while she tended the small cuts on his face and head, and then he beckoned her down closer to him again. She knew for certain what he was going to ask her. What they always asked her.

“What happened?”

She hesitated, unsure what to tell him. In her experience, honesty was usually the best course – people generally coped better when they knew what they were dealing with, but this? How could she tell him this? And in the end, she didn’t have to.

“It was a bomb, wasn’t it?”

Damn. She nodded silently.

“How many people...” He started to cough and she was saved from having to answer by the death grip he put on her hand as the pain ripped through him and he curled in on himself. It only lasted a few seconds but it seemed like an eternity until he caught his breath again and lay trembling in its wake.  "Jesus fucking Christ, get me out of here...” The words were meant to be an order, a demand – but they were really just a plea. He still had hold of her hand, but his grip weakened.

Nancy listened to his chest and belly again and then palpated his abdomen with the flat of her hands. Brian pulled his lips into his teeth and bit down hard in an effort not to cry out. Damnit.

“Sorry about that,” she spoke softly to him. She glanced up and saw Justin watching them, his face a study in abject fear. Clearly this man meant something to him – maybe everything. She looked around at the rescue workers progress, looked at the monitor, and then at her patient. He was sweating profusely now and breathing in shallow sips, and she made a decision. “Brian? I’ll be right back, okay? You hang in there for me.” Glenn looked at her questioningly as she stood up – he could see the monitors just as well as she could. She answered with a slight shake of her head. “Just keep pushing the saline and watch his pressure.”

Nancy backed out of the narrow space and found Matt. “How much longer?”

Matt looked past her at his men. They had the airbags in place to lift the catwalk and had one side of it cut free. They were maybe twenty minutes away on the other side. He told her this and she looked back over her shoulder to where Carl and Justin stood waiting and lowered her voice. “He may not have twenty minutes – do what you can, okay?”

As she turned away Matt watched her face change, like a mask slipping into place - the impersonal, detached persona she needed to survive this job sometimes. The young blond seemed to shrink away from her as she approached them – another reaction she was all too used to. “Are you family?” She addressed them both although the answer was pretty clear.

“I’m his... I...” Fuck. Justin hunched his shoulders and looked as though someone had kicked him in the gut. The detective placed his hand on Justin’s back and the younger man seemed to gather strength from it, though his voice was still unsteady. “I’m his partner.”

Justin

“Do you understand what I’m telling you?” Nancy’s voice was gentle and she placed her hand on his arm. He was looking directly at her with red-rimmed eyes but didn’t really seem to be seeing her. “Sir? Justin? I want to take you to him but you have to let me know you understand what’s going to happen, or I can’t do it.”

He nodded blindly – he knew that she was waiting for a response but couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Because he most certainly did not fucking understand. Brian was right there; he was speaking to the paramedic that was kneeling over him. So how the fuck was he supposed to assure her that he understood that Brian was probably going to die. That what she was offering him was a chance to say goodbye. Because that was bullshit.

Crush injuries to his right side – leg and hip, left leg above the knee. Broken ribs and clavicle. Hypovolemic -  Bleeding into his abdomen from the blunt trauma. His spleen, she suspected, possibly more. Those were only the most obvious and immediate dangers. She wouldn't speculate out loud about what other internal damage the explosion had wreaked. He was bleeding from the injuries to his legs – at the least an open fracture of the right femur from what they could see through the mesh of the catwalk.

“But you’re treating him, right? And they’re going to get him out soon. He’ll be okay once you get him out.”

She shook her head grimly. “Yes, we’re going to get him out, but that presents its own problems. He’s been trapped for close to 90 minutes, Justin. Generally we have four hours or so before we have to be concerned with crush syndrome, but with his other injuries...things are... it’s a risk we have to think about. He’s in shock. We’re doing what we can to replace the fluids, but he’s very weak. He’s already lost a lot of blood... ”

Justin took a couple deep breaths and tried to keep the blind panic out of his voice. “What are you saying?”

“The weight of the catwalk is compressing his injuries, and that is likely tamping the bleeding right now. Once we release it, it will be extremely difficult to control.” She was clearly not telling him everything. Justin made a soft, whimpering sound in his throat.

“And?”

She wasn’t at all sure that he could handle what she had to tell him, but she couldn’t have him asking all these things in front of Brian. She took a deep breath of her own and tried to explain as simply as she could.

“When tissue and muscle are under that much weight for too long, the cells begin to break down and die, and when that happens, chemicals build up in them – all kinds of chemicals.” She paused to let him absorb that. “When the pressure is released, all those toxins are released into the body at once. It’s called crush syndrome, and it causes... it can cause a lot of complications. The most immediate risk is cardiac arrest.” Justin gasped, and that’s when her tone changed from clinical to sympathetic and that terrified him most of all. “We will give him medication to help counteract that, but with all his other injuries...”

“But can’t you just give him blood? He’s O negative..." 

“We will, of course. We’re going to do everything we can for him but...” She stopped – there wasn’t time to explain it all in detail and she wasn’t sure she wanted to see his reaction to the shitty fact that a blood transfusion was just as risky to Brian right now as any of his other injuries. Stored blood, even plasma, was high in the very chemicals that were going to flood his system when they freed him. It was dangerous enough in a hospital where they could monitor it closely – in the field... And even if they got him to the hospital, there were so many more repercussions from his injuries.  She sighed softly and put her hand on the young man’s arm. “I’m so sorry, I know how difficult this to hear, but you need to be prepared. His body has been through a lot, Justin. It’s likely that when we lift the weight off him, Brian’s system won’t be able to withstand the trauma.”

Justin covered his mouth with both hands and stepped back from her, every part of him recoiling from the words she was saying. He stopped when he bumped into Carl who was standing right behind him.

“I’m truly sorry, Justin. I’ll take you to him now if you want.”

Tears streamed down his face as he stood there, trying to wrap his mind around what this woman was telling him. He looked from her to Carl who was beside him again, ashen and somber himself, and back to the medic. He simply could not process it – it was some kind of sick joke. Not even one of Michael’s fucked up comic-book villains could be this cruel.

“Justin?” She squeezed his arm and he finally looked her in the eyes again. “We don’t have a lot of time. Can you do this?”

Justin realized he was still nodding his head and stopped. He just needed to talk to Brian – once he talked to him, she’d see. Then she would understand. He’s Brian Kinney for fuck’s sake. “Yes... I’m okay. I understand.” He took a steadying breath and looked at Carl again, who patted him on the shoulder.

“Go. I’ll make some calls.” He gave him a little push and watched as the two blondes made their way back to Brian.

~*~*~

Justin followed closely behind Nancy until she stopped short and turned to him just before they entered the narrow path. “Justin, we are going to do everything we can for him. You know that, right?” He nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but the best thing you can do for him is to help him stay calm. Do you understand?”

Justin wanted to scream, to rail at her and tell her that he knew Brian better than her, that he was the one who had spent the last five years with him, loving him and needing him and fucking understanding him. Mostly, he just wanted to scream. But none of this was her fault, and he knew she was right, he couldn’t freak out now – he needed to be strong for him. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I know,” he nodded. “I know. Just... don’t give up on him, please?”

“I promise.” She patted his arm him and turned and led the way to Brian. She knelt down as soon as they reached him and Glenn updated her, relaying his latest vitals. She frowned as she read the display on the cardiac monitor. Brian’s eyes were closed and his breathing was rapid and shallow, even on 100% oxygen. She glanced at the monitor again – she had really hoped not to have to bag him before they moved him. His oxygen level was still acceptable but if it dropped any lower they’d have no choice. She prepped doses of several different meds and set them aside, and then bent over him.

“Brian?” She waited for him to open his eyes and smiled down at him. “How are you doing?” The snort she heard through the mask was reassuring. “Yeah, sorry. ”

“Still hurts like a motherfucker.” And it did – his body felt like it didn’t fit in his skin any more. It hurt to breathe and his head was going to explode. His legs didn’t hurt at all but that didn’t really make him feel any better.

Nancy nodded, “I know. I’m going to give you something for that now.” She injected one of the meds as she spoke. The other two were drugs to help counteract the effects of possible crush syndrome and would be administered just before they moved him. She checked the lines and the monitor once more and then tucked the blanket back around him. “I brought someone back with me,” she said softly. She maneuvered herself out of the way and let Justin take her place. She watched Brian’s face as the blond knelt beside him and knew she’d made the right decision.

The cloud of pain in his eyes seemed to lift just a little and his lips curved into a smile she could see even through the mask. She moved to the wall and Glenn slid as far back as the IV lines would allow to give them what privacy they could. Brian’s good arm slipped out from under the blanket and he lifted his hand in a little wave before he let it rest on Justin’s thigh.

“Hey, Sunshine.”

“Don’t call me Sunshine. And fuck you, asshole. We had a date!” Justin fought to keep the catch out of his voice without much success.

“Little twat. You know I don’t do dates.” Brian said the words with as much scorn as he could muster, but his fingers laced with Justin’s as he spoke them. He squeezed them tight and Justin felt as though he was squeezing his heart instead.

Justin's throat ached with tears he’d swore he wouldn’t cry and he brushed Brian’s hair back off his face with his free hand. He bent and kissed his damp forehead, so pale and cold against his lips. “Jesus Christ, Brian.” He couldn’t help it – a tear spilled over and splashed onto Brian’s cheek. He kept his mouth pressed to him while he swallowed the deluge that threatened to follow, then raised his head again. Brian let go of his hand and reached up to trace his thumb over the trail of tears, then let it brush against Justin's lips as though returning the kiss the only way he could.

Justin covered Brian’s hand with his own and pressed his lips into it before he lowered them both again. Brian seemed to be studying him and Justin’s heart broke a little more as he looked down into immeasurably sad eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

Justin’s eyes narrowed at the unexpected question until he realized what Brian was really asking. “I... I wasn’t here, Brian. I was on my way to the airport...” Justin saw the relief that he knew Brian could never express in words chase away some of the sadness. His eyes were dry - he was too dehydrated for tears - but his voice was thick with them when he spoke.

“Me too.” His fingers clenched around Justin’s hand and he repeated the words – it was suddenly vital that Justin understood that, and he searched his face for confirmation.

“I know,” Justin whispered and pulled his hand back up and wrapped it in both of his before he kissed the slender fingers. “I know you were.” He felt him shivering against his lips and gently lowered Brian’s arm and tucked the warming blanket around him again. Brian was quiet for a moment while he regrouped and then he spoke again, his voice still distressed.

“What about the rest of them? Michael...”

“He’s fine, they’re all fine. Don’t worry about them.” He saw Brian’s eyebrows knit skeptically. “I promise, Brian, everybody is okay.” Justin told the white lie without compunction – he had no intention of telling him about Debbie or his mother, or anything else that might upset him. He was just grateful that Brian seemed to accept it and his forehead smoothed again.

“Good. That’s good.” He closed his eyes again – the effort it took to speak seemed to drain what little energy he had, and Justin watched with a morbid kind of awe as he appeared to gather himself for another round. When he opened his eyes again they were dark and determined and he fixed them on Justin’s troubled blue ones. He ran his tongue over his parched lips and beckoned him closer. “Come here, Justin.” Something in the sound of his name on Brian’s tongue sent a shiver of fear through Justin. Brian rarely called him by his name unless he was pissed, being sarcastic, or about to tell him something he didn’t want to hear. Still, Justin lowered his head until they were nearly face to face and Brian’s gaze softened, grew almost... jesuschrist... wistful?

“Justin, I...” Justin suddenly knew what Brian was going to say and he cut him off in a panic.

“NO!” Brian’s eyes went wide, the words frozen on his tongue in surprise at Justin’s vehemence. “No fucking way, Brian. Not like this.” Justin shook his head almost angrily. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He knew with absolute certainty that Brian was about to tell him what he’d waited nearly five long years to hear, and it scared him more than anything else he could have possibly said or done. Brian was going to tell him he loved him, because he believed it was his last chance. “No way, Brian. You’re not getting off that easy. I want champagne and candlelight and...” his voice broke and the tears he’d been fighting spilled over and ran down his cheeks. He impatiently swiped them away with the back of his hand and continued, “...and fucking caviar, and some god damn mother-fucking red roses! So just don’t, okay? Don’t.”

Brian moved his hand out from under the blanket again. He slipped it behind Justin’s neck without breaking their gaze and pulled him closer still. He smiled despite himself. It was pretty fucking ironic that he had probably never felt as much love for this kid as he did at that moment. “You are such a fucking princess.” He squeezed his neck and pulled him down in an awkward embrace and just held him there.

Justin only pulled away when he felt a light tap on his arm and he craned his neck to look up at Nancy, who was looking down at them with suspiciously wet eyes herself. “I’m sorry, but they’re just about ready. I need to prep him.” Justin’s stomach clenched hard, or maybe it was his heart, but he nodded. The paramedic squeezed Justin’s shoulder sympathetically. “Just a few more minutes,” she said softly, and then stepped back again.

Brian clutched loosely at  the front of Justin’s jacket and tugged him forward. “Listen to me, Justin... are you listening?” Justin could only nod – suddenly all of the paramedic’s warnings were echoing in his head, so loudly he could hardly hear Brian over them. “I want you to do something for me.” Justin started to shake his head again but Brian tightened his grip on his jacket and shook him lightly. “Cut that the fuck out. I need you to listen to me.”

His heart was breaking into little pieces but Justin found his voice somehow. “I’m listening.”

Brian opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. He grimaced and then with as deep a breath as he could manage, he let go of Justin's jacket and pulled the oxygen mask off his face and set it aside.

“Brian!” Nancy stepped forward instantly but Brian held his hand up to her.

“Fuck off.”

Every ounce of her training compelled her to put the mask back on him, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She stepped back and fixed her eyes on the monitor, already forgotten by the man laying at her feet.

Brian’s hand was on Justin’s neck again and he pulled him down until their foreheads were touching. He closed his eyes and held him like that for a long moment and then kissed him softly and let him go. Justin sat back enough to look into his face, though he could barely see through the haze of tears in his eyes. Without the oxygen Brian’s breathing was already noticeably more labored and though his voice was weaker, it was resolute. “I want you to promise that you’ll stay in Gus’s life.” Justin let out a little sob, tried to object, but Brian cut him off. “Look out for him for me.”

“No...” Justin shook his head, not rejecting the request but the implication. “Brian, no. You’ll be... you’re not...”

“Please, Justin...” Two words, softly spoken, but they stopped Justin’s protest as surely as if he’d slapped him. "Don't let him forget me."  Brian’s eyes narrowed with an ache that had nothing to do with the pain in his body. "Promise me.”

No, no, no, no, no!! The tears flowed unchecked down Justin’s face now. He wanted to scream at him, to shake him and make him take it back. He searched the hazel eyes for something, anything that would let him refuse, but all he found was an urgent need for reassurance, and though it gutted him to do it, he whispered the terrible oath. “I promise.”

Brian relaxed some then. “Good.” He nodded, but then his lips turned inward and he winced. Whatever the paramedic had given him had taken the edge off the pain for a few minutes, but he felt it clawing its way up now, tearing at him with every breath. He closed his eyes for a moment and pushed it back down, and then opened them to find Justin shaking with silent tears. The little twat was trying so hard to be brave for him. He always was the strong one – he probably should have told him that. He reached up and stroked the blond hair and was happy to find it as soft as he remembered. That was good, too. “Look after Michael for me, okay? You know how pathetic he can be.”

“Brian, Jesus...” Justin’s voice was rough from the effort it took not to cry and he had to swallow hard before he could go on. “I will... but now you have to promise me something.” He combed his fingers through Brian’s damp hair, smoothing it back from his face. “Promise me you’re going to be okay.”

Brian looked into the ocean blue eyes, bright with tears and pulled him down again. He kissed him hard and then pressed his lips to Justin’s ear as he wrapped his arm around the young blond’s shoulders and held him as tightly as he could. “Can’t do that, Sunshine.”

Justin lost it then, sobs wracking his thin frame as Brian held him. His weight was excruciating on his damaged body but Brian barely felt it, measured against the pain of feeling Justin break in his arms. Fuck it. He brought his mouth to Justin’s ear again. “I love you.” Justin lifted his head up at that and Brian brushed his fingers over his face, letting them rest on the tear stained cheek. “I love you, Justin.”

The whispered words were enough to stop his tears, his breath, his heart. Justin said the only thing he could. “I know.”

And then Nancy was beside them again. “It’s time.” She picked up the oxygen mask and Brian let her replace it without argument, and then she turned to Justin. “You’re going to have to step back now, Justin.” She was afraid they might have to physically move him, but he surprised her by nodding his head. He lifted Brian’s hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it almost reverently, then folded the long fingers down with a gentle squeeze and let go. He stood up and backed out of the way, but his eyes never left Brian’s and Brian’s never left his. Not when Nancy lifted him gently and repositioned the backboard under him. Not when she administered the two syringes of meds to his IV line. Not even when she took the blanket off him to give them unrestricted access the moment he was freed and Justin saw the true extent of the devastation inflicted on his beautiful Brian.

He fought the bile that rose in his throat and had to lean against the wall to keep from falling down, but still he never broke eye contact with Brian – never let him be alone in his pain and fear for even one second. When they were ready, Nancy moved to his head, while Glenn positioned himself at Brian’s feet, ready to move as soon as the weight was off him. She signaled Matt with a nod and watched the two men exchange a last, tremulous smile. She saw rather than heard Justin’s lips form a single word, and then watched Brian respond in kind. ‘Later.’

The next few minutes passed in a kind of surreal time warp for Justin, at once endless and over too soon. Six of the bigger firefighters stood around the perimeter of the section of catwalk they’d cut loose, there to make sure nothing shifted as they inflated the airbags that lifted the offending metal off Brian. Justin bit down on his knuckles hard enough to draw blood at the sound Brian made as the pressure was finally removed from his ruined legs and the real price of his injuries made itself known. In the days to come, Justin would never be able to decide which was worse: the agonized sound of Brian’s screams, or the cruel, empty silence when he stopped. He only knew that he would never forget either one for as long as he lived.

Both the paramedics moved with amazing speed and skill. They slid the backboard under Brian the moment he was freed and went to work, splinting his legs; packing the awful wounds with wet, sterile dressings; wrapping him in the warming blanket again before they lifted him onto the gurney. He lost consciousness as they were strapping him down and Justin stopped breathing right along with him until Glenn replaced the oxygen mask with an Ambu-bag and began squeezing air into him again. Nancy held the IV bags, and a firefighter carried the monitor at his side while two more carried the gurney through the rubble and down the stairs to the waiting ambulance. Justin followed, desperately trying not to think about the dark crimson stain that blossomed through the pale blue blanket.

He stood to the side as they loaded him into the ambulance, vaguely aware that Carl and Ben and Emmett were there, waiting and watching in solemn disbelief. It was Emmett who stepped forward and quickly put his arms around Justin and hugged him fiercely, murmuring words of comfort that barely registered. He did hear Ben’s offer to drive him to the hospital as he climbed into the ambulance behind the paramedics, only acknowledging him after he was inside and seated on the small bench. “I’m going with him.”

As soon as the doors shut, they were rolling. Glenn continued on the Ambu-bag while Nancy hung new IV’s and replaced the saline with two units of blood. She was on the radio with Allegheny Emerg, relaying his condition to the trauma specialist waiting there when his heart rate began to climb and an alarm sounded on the monitor. She was on it instantly, retrieving a prepared syringe from the case at her feet and injecting it into his line. The alarm stopped after a minute, and she was listening to his chest when it went crazy again, two different tones blaring from it as warning lights and numbers on the display flashed ominously. His blood pressure was bottoming out as his heart rate spiked and she could barely get a pulse.

“Damnit!” His IV’s were both wide open but he was bleeding out and they were still fifteen minutes from the hospital. She pulled the blanket down and swore at the sight of the thick gauze pads soaked scarlet and seeping around the splint. He needed a central line, but his chest was too damaged for a sub-clavian. She looked up at Glenn and shook her head - she had no choice. She took the collar off him and grabbed a CVA kit. Any potential neck injury wasn’t going to matter if he bled out right there. She quickly wiped his neck and shoulder down with antiseptic and Glenn removed the Ambu-bag to position Brian’s head so she could access the vein. Nancy tore open the package with the small needle she would need to introduce the catheter and was about to proceed when another alarm sounded on the monitor, this one a rapid, high-pitched beep. “No pulse. God damnit!”

Justin watched silently, too numb with fear to even cry now. He didn’t need medical training to know the erratic wavy lines on the monitor were very, very wrong. To know that words like ‘V-tach’ were bad, or to hold his breath and pray when Nancy grabbed the paddles from the machine beside her and set it for 200 joules. “Clear!” It wasn’t like on T.V. Brian didn’t arch off the gurney – it was more like his whole body clenched and Justin wondered if it hurt him. He hoped not. Glenn squeezed air into his lungs while the alarm continued to beep. “Clear!” She shocked him again and waited. The pattern on the monitor changed and Nancy cursed.

“He’s in V-fib!” She prepared the paddles a third time and ordered Glenn clear, then shocked him again. “Come on, Brian. Come on!” The waves on the monitor were barely a squiggle. “Raise it to 360.”

With every shock, Brian’s already broken body seized and then fell limp, and Justin prayed that he couldn’t feel it. That they weren’t torturing him in their efforts to save him. He wanted to scream at her to stop almost as much as he wanted to beg her to never give up.

Nancy frowned at the monitor – he was in fine V-fib now. She couldn’t shock him again without CPR and the thought of compressing his already damaged chest was intolerable. She glanced up at Justin as she began and her heart went out to him, as devastated in his own way as the man she was trying so hard to save. Justin flinched with every thrust as though it were his own heart being assaulted and Nancy remembered her promise to him. She couldn’t help but wonder if he would ask the same of her now.

She instructed Glenn to give him a milligram of epinephrine and counted off the compressions as she watched the waves on the monitor react to her efforts. As her count neared 150 she ordered Glenn to charge the paddles again. When they were ready she stepped back and let him administer the shock. The monitor spiked from the pulse and then returned to a feeble, wavy line. She called for more epi and moved to resume compressions when the beeping changed to the steady, unbroken tone of asystole. The sound was echoed by another - an anguished cry of pain, not from the patient, but from the young blond. The sound of a lover’s heart breaking.

Nancy began CPR again as Justin moved to Brian’s side. She didn’t try to stop him and when he met the paramedic’s sympathetic eyes, something inside him broke. The tears came again, falling silently as he took Brian’s still hand in both of his and held on. The wail of the siren, Nancy’s rhythmic counting of beats, the controlled chaos of the ambulance bay as they arrived at the hospital – all of that faded to white noise. Justin’s world shrank around him until there was only this. Brian. Justin. The flat, green line on the monitor and that sound – the sound of everything slipping away.