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His arms were aching... shaking...

Almost numb.

Chicago started to slip down and Buck pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his chest. “You fucking hold on, Chicago.”

“Th-that was the idea, man, but we both... we both know... it’s-”

His words were cut off by the slicing sound of helicopter blades above their heads.

A search light swung across the water and Buck blinked his eyes to keep himself from being blinded.

Once it settled on him, Buck lowered his chin and focused on what he had to do to keep them afloat.

There had to be other survivors, he decided.

There had to be.

The helicopter hovered nearby and after what felt like an eternity, something hit the water with a splash a few feet away.

It felt like an interminable amount of time… waiting.

He could feel his body aching at moments and then feeling numb.

Breathing was one shuddering indrawn breath followed by an exhale.

And all the while, he was holding onto Chicago, not because he had the strength to do so, but because he could not conceive of letting him go.

As he heard splashes of sound coming up on his left, Buck spoke to his teammate.

“Hey... Chicago? You hear that?”

In his arms, Chicago was quiet.

Still.

“They’ve got us, man. They’re going to take us back to base, ‘kay?”

Every word felt like he was drowning.

Water going down his throat and into his lungs.

But he couldn’t stop.

Not yet.

If he stopped.

If he gave up.

He knew they were both lost.

And he wasn’t going to let go.

Not until they were safely aboard the helicopter.

A second splash from nearly the same position felt like a beacon in the darkness.

Buck kept talking to Chicago, giving him every word of hope he could manage himself.