The hospital lights flickered dimly in the sterile room where Ocean lay motionless. The hum of medical machines filled the quiet air, punctuating the gravity of the situation. His skin was ghostly pale, his body unnervingly still, save for the faint rise and fall of his chest. The blood that once flowed freely through his veins was now dangerously low, and the doctors had said it outright—he needed a transfusion. Immediately.
Skyler stood just outside the room, staring through the glass as if willing his presence to be enough. But it wasn't. He couldn't protect Ocean from this—not from the invisible threat of blood loss, not from the fragility of life that dangled on the edge.
His heart was heavy with guilt, anger, and desperation. His knuckles were still raw from his fight with Fain, and his clothes remained stained with Ocean's blood. Every second felt like an eternity. He'd promised Ocean he would be there, that he would save him, but now he was powerless, standing by while doctors and machines determined his lover's fate.
Day, standing beside him, kept his composure, though the tension in his frame was clear. "Skyler, you need to stay calm," Day said in a low voice, his gaze fixed on the doctors rushing back and forth.
"How the hell am I supposed to stay calm when Ocean's in there, barely holding on?" Skyler snapped, his voice hoarse. He clenched his fists, feeling the tremor of his own helplessness. "They need blood. They need it now, and we're just standing here—"
Day's hand rested on Skyler's shoulder, grounding him as always. "You're the answer, Skyler. You're a match."
Skyler turned sharply, meeting Day's steady gaze. "What?"
"Ocean's blood type is rare, and they're short on supply. You have the same type." Day's voice was measured, but the implication hit Skyler like a punch. He was the only one who could save Ocean now.
Without a second thought, Skyler spun on his heels, storming toward the nurse's station. "Take my blood," he demanded, his voice barely concealing the urgency. "I'm a match. Do it now."
The nurse, startled by his intensity, quickly nodded and led him into a room where they prepared to draw his blood. Skyler rolled up his sleeve, his mind racing, his heart pounding as they attached the IV to his arm.
Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. With every drop of blood that filled the bag, Skyler's anxiety grew. His thoughts were consumed by Ocean—how fragile he had looked, how cold his skin had felt when Skyler had held him.
Inside Ocean's Room...
Everything was cold. Dark.
Ocean floated in and out of consciousness, trapped between the void and the dim awareness of pain that throbbed through his body. His mind was a swirl of fragmented thoughts, memories flashing before him like distant echoes. The bullying, the cruelty he had endured at the hands of Fain—it all replayed like a nightmare, taunting him.
But then, there were moments of light. Fleeting images of Skyler—his smile, his warmth, the way his strong arms had always felt like a safe haven. Ocean wanted to reach out, to pull himself back to the surface, but the pain was too great, and the darkness too heavy.
In the depths of his haze, a voice broke through.
"Hold on, Ocean... just hold on."
It was faint, almost like a whisper, but Ocean recognized it. Skyler. He was here. Somehow, that gave him strength, the tiniest spark of hope that maybe—just maybe—he wasn't alone.
Back Outside...
The blood transfusion had been set in motion. Skyler, still weak from the amount of blood drawn, leaned against the wall, trying to steady his racing heart. His body felt light, almost hollow, but none of that mattered. He would give every last drop of blood if it meant saving Ocean.
Day stood beside him, watching the doctors work swiftly. "You did everything you could, Sky," he said quietly, his tone soft but firm. "Now we have to let them do their job."
Skyler nodded, though the tension didn't leave his body. His mind kept replaying the scene—Ocean bleeding, barely conscious, Fain standing over him. His fists clenched at the memory. He had failed to protect Ocean before. He couldn't afford to fail now.
"They said he lost a lot of blood," Skyler muttered, his voice raw. "Do you think he'll—"
"He's stronger than you think," Day interrupted, his calm voice laced with certainty. "Ocean's been through hell, but he's a fighter. And he's got you. That's what matters."
The door to the room swung open, and one of the doctors stepped out. Skyler was on his feet instantly, his heart in his throat.
"Mr. Sokolov," the doctor said, meeting Skyler's anxious gaze. "The transfusion is helping stabilize him, but he's still critical. He lost a lot of blood, and there's been extensive damage. We've done what we can for now, but the next 24 hours are crucial."
Skyler nodded, his chest tightening with every word. The weight of it all felt crushing, but he couldn't afford to break now. Ocean needed him strong.
"Can I see him?" Skyler asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor hesitated, then nodded. "Just for a moment. He's still unconscious, but I think he'll know you're there."
Without waiting another second, Skyler slipped past the doctor and into the room. The sight of Ocean hooked up to machines, pale and lifeless, made Skyler's heart seize. But he walked forward, each step heavy with emotion.
Sitting at Ocean's bedside, Skyler reached out, taking Ocean's hand in his own. The warmth of the contact sent a jolt through him, a fragile reminder that Ocean was still here. Still fighting.
"I'm here, Ocean," Skyler whispered, his voice trembling as he squeezed Ocean's hand. "I'm not leaving. Not this time."
He leaned in closer, brushing a soft kiss against Ocean's forehead. His heart ached with everything he couldn't say, every fear and regret that clawed at him.
"You're gonna get through this," he whispered, more to himself than to Ocean. "You have to."
As Skyler sat there, watching the slow rise and fall of Ocean's chest, he silently vowed that no one—no one—would ever hurt him again. Fain would pay for what he had done, but right now, the only thing that mattered was Ocean.
He had to survive. He had to.
TBC. 🩵
