Floating
So this is what it's like to be dead, not so bad I guess.
Looking down on my broken and bleeding body, there's an odd sense of detachment from it.
This is bad, here comes Napoleon and he doesn't look good.
CPR, the kiss of life, and a regret. I'll never know what those lips would feel like and that's sad.
He's standing over my shoulder, looking strangely like Waverly – Waverly as God, that's a scary though.
"Go on," he urges, "I can wait if you can."
Pain, suddenly so much pain, and Napoleon. I smile into his kiss.