His Bright Eyes (Septiplier)

The Deep Breaths

-Jack's POV-

I reached for his hand and missed it. My eyes were on fire trying to stay opened in the water, the half muted echo of Chica's panicked barks still in my ears. He was still sinking, his eyes closed now. Like he had given up.

No! I won't let you give up!

My fingers grasped his arm this time, and I pulled up as hard as I could. I felt his body jerk upwards towards me, and grabbing him around the chest I kicked my legs to carry up both of us towards the surface of the pool. Ignoring the pain in my lungs and throat I clung onto him as I felt him slip a bit out of my arms. I wouldn't let him sink, no matter how heavy he felt, or how tired I was.

I felt the warm air hit me like fire once we broke the surface, and I began to swim towards the side of the pool. Chica's barks sounding stressed, almost terrified as she ran back and forth. Mark's head and chest floated lazily as I pulled him towards the closest end of the pool. "Mark?" I gasped as I pulled him. "Mark, can you hear me?"

There was silence from him. His eyes closed and mouth slightly opened. I wouldn't be able to tell if he was breathing until I got him laying on the ground properly. His face was so pale. I couldn't panic now. He needed me to stay calm and rational.

I grabbed the edge of the pool, the coarse concrete feeling slightly painful in my cold and wet hands. I got out first, making sure to keep his head and shoulders out of the water. Mark was heavier than me normally, but adding the weight of the water and his unconsciousness made him feel ten times heavier.

It took a few pulls to get him out of the pool, and laying him out on the tiled walkway, I was able to finally look at him properly. He was completely limp. His face was expressionless, and his head rolled to the right. His eyes were still closed and his lips were a slight blue color. I felt for breathing and there was no sign that he was, and heart pounding in my chest, I felt for a pulse in his neck. There was a slight pulse.

Thank god.

I grabbed for my phone that was on one of the patio chairs and called 911 and placed the phone on speaker. I could hear the rings as I started to position him to preform CPR.

"This is 911. What is your emergency?"

"My name is Sean, and I just dragged my boyfriend out of the pool." I said, trying to keep my voice steady,"I don't think he's breathing. I need someone to come and help."

"Ok, Sean. I have paramedics on the way. In the meantime, do you know how to perform CPR?"

"Yes," I said.

"Good," she said, " I need to check his vitals, Sean. Do you know how to do that?"

"I already did," I said quickly. "I found a pulse, but it was very weak. He's already on his back."

"Good," said the operator. Tilt his head back and make sure his airway is clear, and start CPR. I'm right here if you need help, Sean."

I began performing CPR. Chica seemed to understand that I needed her out of the way, and she whimpered off to the side.

The 911 operator helped me along, and I was working hard not to breakdown completely. Mark needed me now. After a few chest compressions I went back to his head to blow deep breaths into his mouth. I could see his chest rise and fall with my breaths, and then back to the chest compressions. It felt like we had been by the pool for hours, my desire to cry pushing on my heart as I went back and forth from compressions to breathing and then back again. 

Then I felt I him stir under my hands, and he cough up pool water, and gasp for air. His eyes opening wide, and looking around in alarm. I heard the door slam open and EMTs were there, and I stepped out of the way.

The EMTs surrounded him, checking his vitals and talking quickly to each other. One of the EMTs, a dark haired male, glanced over to me. "Are you Sean?" he asked quickly.

I nodded. "He's calling for you," he said, nodding towards Mark, who was moaning as he was trying to get up. He was moving so much they were struggling to get him on the gurney. I walked over and grabbed his hand in mine.

"Mark," I say as calmly as I could, but he was still thrashing around, as if he didn't know where he was. As if he couldn't connect that there were people around him trying to help him.

"Bright Eyes," I said loudly, and he stopped moving. He looked at me fully in the face, his deep brown eyes, wide and terrified. "You need to stay still so that they can take you to the hospital. Please, try to stay calm. These men want to help you."

He stopped struggling at once, the grip he had on my hand almost painfully tight. The EMTs were able to get him on the gurney, but needed to surround him to get him into the ambulance.

"Bright Eyes," I said softly, but sternly, "You need to let go of my hand so that they can get you into the ambulance."

His mouth was covered with a oxygen mask now but I could tell from his eyes that he was scared to let go of me.

"You can ride with him to the ER," the dark haired EMT said.

"I can go with you, but you need to let go of my hand for just a few minutes."

He shook his head "no" almost violently fast.

I leaned over to him, and the EMTs moved out of the way to give us space. I placed my forehead against his, and looked into his dark eyes, my heart lurching forward at how frightened he looked. "Do you trust that I love you?" I asked him.

He nodded slowly, his eyes looking into mine, his grip on my hand getting impossibly tighter.

"Then I need you to trust me, and these people around you. I promise that I'll be with you once you get in the ambulance, but you have to let go of my hand, ok? And I promise that I'll never pull away from your hand ever again."

His eyes were brimming with tears, and almost as if it was causing him pure agony, he let go of my hand. The EMTs worked quickly to get him into the ambulance, and after grabbing my phone, shoes and wallet, and making sure Chica was safely locked inside the house, I got into the back of the ambulance. His face, full of relief as he held out his hand, and I took it without a second thought.