Listen, I have a power or whatever, but I’m notinvincible. I’m a normal guy outside of that singular thing and very susceptible to dying of Pneumonia.
Even as I push through the hardening of my sore muscles, I can feel how my body is threatening to tense up completely.
Maybe this was a rash decision. Maybe I should just—
I spot Julian’s body, seemingly unscathed other than his darkening skin. He’s floating somewhere beneath the rolling tides but not quite sinking to the ocean floor, either. All thoughts of turning back disappear as I push myself forward, gripping his arm and pulling his body to me as I swim back toward the shore, my head finally breaking the surface.
Wave after wave attempts to drown me, throwing salt water in my face as I push through it, wading through the cold.
And finally,finally,I find solid ground again, Julian pressed against me where I hold him in my arms. But he’s not… he’s not breathing.
My own breath is shallow and forced as I gently lay his cold body in the sand, my mind immediately reeling with how to revive him.
Starting with chest compressions, I alternate between that and mouth-to-mouth, counting lowly to myself.
I can vaguely sense approaching footsteps, someone calling out to me, but I’m too focused. I’m desperately trying to bring this man back to life.
I wish my power were more useful. I wish there was somethingmoreI could be doing as I press into his chest, holding his nose as I breathe my own life into his body.
“Give it up, Barfred. There’s no pulse,” Atticus says softly, but I ignore him, continuing my attempts without hesitation.
The cold water should prolong his descent; there could be hope left.
“Please, Julie,” Atlas is whispering, suddenly across from Julain’s body as he sits on his knees. “Come back to me. Don’t die. Wake up and love me.”
My heart constricts in my chest, my own body shuddering against the wind.
I’m not a particularly nice guy. But for the people I care about? For Atlas, who is so tortured and sweet? I’ll breathe into Julian’s mouth until I physically can’t. Until I’m passed out from exhaustion.
“Barfred,” Atticus warns again, but his voice is cut off by Julian, who makes a choking noise.
I can feel it the moment his life returns to him, expanding his chest and violently shaking his body.
Thank fuck.
Green, foamy liquid begins to pour out of Julian’s mouth, and I shove his body, rolling him onto his side as I call out, “Move,” to Atlas.
I watch as Julian vomits, not hearing a single thing other than the gargled sounds as I wait for his full recovery. For him to breathe on his own.
Time crawls by until finally he mutters, “A-Atlas?”
“Julie! You’re alright now. We have you. You’re safe,” Atlas cries, brushing Julian’s wet hair from his face.
A moment passes, one full of relief, before Atlas suddenly throws his arms around me.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. “Thank you so, so much. I… I can never repay you for what you’ve done.”
There is so much affection, so much appreciation in his voice that it makes my throat tight. I did it—I saved his lover.
Thisright here is why I do what I do. I work for the council and push through my own feelings time and time again for people like this—the ones who need someone stronger than them to protect them.
“No worries, Young Master Atlas,” I say gently. “Just doing what’s right.” I pat his head, standing to leave. They need a moment alone. “I need to shower before I catch a cold.”
As I walk away, I hear a mumbled “W-where am I?” from Julian.
My skin is numb, the wind blowing through my dripping hair just enough to have me shivering anyway. The fabric of my clothes is clinging to my skin in an uncomfortable chafe as I head into the bathroom on the first floor—the one readily available to employees—and strip.
Hannah, who must have seen me walk in soaking wet, sneaks in momentarily, taking my clothes to the dryer and replacing them with sweats and a t-shirt. I always keep a spare change of clothes in the laundry room; you never know when you’ll dirty yourself in the kitchen.
