Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing.
My vision narrows, my eyes going blurry.
“No pulse,” I choke out. “Starting compressions.”
I position my hands in the center of his chest, locking my elbows. I’ve done this hundreds of times. Thousands, maybe.
This is no different. This is just like all the other times.
I press down. Hard.
I count in my head.One, two, three, four…
My arms start shaking, so I readjust and keep going. Keep pushing pushing pushing, pumping blood through the veins of the man I love.
“Arlo.” Tears well in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks before I can stop them. “You can’t fucking die on me like this. You’re not allowed.”
I stop compressions, my hands shaking madly while Austin checks his pulse. “Nothing. Resume.”
I start back up.
There’s nothing but this.
Nothing but my hands, trying to bring Arlo back to me.
Push. Release. Push. Release.
“C’mon, baby boy,” I breathe, my voice cracking. “Come on. Please. Please don’t leave me like this. I’ll do anything.”
My breathing is ragged, my vision blurring in and out of focus.
More sirens approach. I’m still doing compressions, still staring at Arlo’s face, when a paramedic rushes to us with a monitor and airway kit.
“Status?”
Austin answers. “Adult male. No pulse. Unknown downtime. Burns along neck and shoulder.”
“Pause compressions.”
I sit back, drawing in a gasping breath as sweat beads on my skin.
They place pads on Arlo’s chest, and the unforgiving straight line across the monitor makes my stomach lurch.
“Asystole. Resume compressions.”
“Tube him,” someone says.
“Switch with me,” Austin says softly.
“No. Don’t touch him,” I snap, far more harshly than I mean to.
“Jasper,” Austin says, beside me now. “I care about him too. Let me help. You’re flagging.”
I shake my head, sweat flying off my hair.Eighteen, nineteen, twenty…
“You don’t. Not like I do,” I grit out.
“Goddammit, Jasper.”
