I drop to my knees in front of him and bring my hands up to cup his face, feeling the coldness of his skin under my palms, the unnatural stillness of him as my thumbs drag along his cheekbones in a grounding motion that I hope will pull him back into his body and remind him that he's still here and not alone.
“Seth,” I say, my voice shaking despite everything in me trying to hold it together. “Seth, baby.”
Nothing.
The absence of a response heightens my anxiety.
I swallow hard and force myself to try again, louder this time, pushing the words through the tightness in my throat. “Look at me.”
His pupils don't shift toward me, and his breathing stays shallow and incomplete, like his body has forgotten how to draw air deep enough to keep him alive.
Beau is at my side almost immediately, dropping into a crouch with a controlled urgency that contrasts sharply with the chaos inside my chest, his eyes moving over Seth’s face with precise focus as he assesses what's happening.
“Hey, man,” Beau says. “Seth. Stay with us.”
Behind me, Travis swears under his breath before the words unravel into something louder and more frantic, his hands dragging through his hair as panic takes over. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s catatonic. Jesus Christ.”
I tighten my grip on Seth’s face, my heart slamming hard enough against my ribs that it makes me feel sick, and I force myself to stay anchored to him instead of the rising panic. “Seth,” I say again, steadying my tone even as everything inside me shakes. “You’re here. You’re with me. I need you to look at me.”
For a long second, nothing changes, and that nothing threatens to crush me.
Then his jaw tightens just slightly, a faint shift that would be easy to miss if I hadn't been watching him this closely.
Beau catches it. “That’s it,” the encouragement clear in his tone. “Good. Stay there. Stay on him.”
Travis is already moving, pacing once before rushing toward his laptop, flipping it open with shaking hands as his fingers fly over the keys. “I’m finding that fucker right now.”
I lean closer to Seth until my forehead presses against his, forcing my breathing to slow, so he can follow if he can hear me at all. “Breathe,” I murmur over and over, refusing to let the word lose its meaning. “I’m right here. You hear me? I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes flicker faintly, the smallest sign of movement that still feels like everything.
I drag my thumbs beneath his eyes, wiping away the tears that have gathered there without him seeming to notice them. “Come back to me,” I whisper, the plea slipping out before I can stop it. “Please.”
His breath hitches once, then again, slightly deeper the second time, and the change is enough to keep me from falling apart.
Beau nods beside me, his focus locked on Seth. “That’s it. Stay there.”
I hold his face like it's the only thing keeping him from breaking apart completely, like letting go would mean losing him for good.
“Seth,” I repeat, stronger this time. “Breathe with me.”
I exaggerate every inhale and every exhale, pressing my forehead against his chest so I can feel what his lungs are doing, searching for any sign that he is still fighting his way back.
For a moment, there is nothing.
Then I feel a faint hitch beneath my skin, barely there but real enough to catch onto.
“There,” I whisper, my voice breaking anyway. “Do that again.”
His jaw flexes, and a muscle ticks beneath my fingers, the smallest shift that still manages to crack through the fear that has locked me in place.
I slide one hand down to his wrist, then to his hand, finding his fingers loose and unresponsive in mine, warm but disconnected, like they belong to someone else.
“Come on,” I murmur.
I guide him toward the bedroom one slow step at a time, moving carefully so he can follow, and he does, his body responding to my movement without resistance, without hesitation, without awareness, which feels worse than if he had fought me because it means he is not choosing this at all.
His shoulder brushes against the doorframe as we move through it, and he doesn't react in any way that suggests he feels it.
