Again, many thanks for those of you who took the time to review - it gives me encouragement to keep on writing :)
I received a review to the last chapter by thunderbird shadow and also another PM away from with regards to ventricular fibrillation - apologies, that's the cardiac radiographer in me coming forth!
Special thanks to my best buddy and space bagel, Olly, for some geology info in this chapter - you rock! (pun not initially but now totally intended) ^^
Advanced warning for those that don't like descriptions of resuscitation!
Pain.
White hot.
Burning.
Scott winced, feeling the sharp, stabbing sensation in his right shoulder increase each time he pushed down on Virgil's chest.
Eight, nine, ten...
Keeping a mental count whilst he worked definitely helped to distract him from the jagged shard of greyish rock sticking out of his aforementioned shoulder; taking the edge off things - if only a little.
Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen...
Nevermind the fact that he was currently stranded down the side of a long-abandoned tin mine at the bottom of an old glacial basin, trying to perform adequate CPR...
Alone.
On his own brother.
Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two...
"Come on, Virgil! Wake up!"
His words came out harsh and sharp.
An order.
Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven...
Blood oozed down his arm - warm and sticky - staining the fabric of his flight suit a deep, dark colour. He ignored it as he carried on.
Twenty-nine, thirty!
He had already discarded his and Virgil's helmets - throwing them haphazardly in some random direction. He'd worry about finding them later.
Head tilt.
Chin lift.
One breath.
Sharp blue eyes watched keenly for the rise and subsequent fall in Virgil's chest.
It was probably some kind of panic-induced delirium - a coping mechanism - but somewhere in the back of his mind, Scott set himself a reminder to tease Virgil about all of this when they were safely back home again. He could only imagine how disappointed the latter would be upon finding out he had not been given mouth-to-mouth by some hottie. Perhaps it was a subconscious goal that he had set - that Virgil just had to pull through - and right now, it was all he had to hold on to.
One more breath.
This time, Scott did not even wait to see the forced breath exhale again before he shifted back to his original position; planting the heel of his left hand square into the middle of Virgil's chest. His right hand followed suite, interlocking his fingers as he resumed chest compressions.
Two, three, four...
"Come on, you sunovabitch!"
Nine, ten, eleven...
"Don't you fucking die on me, Virgil!"
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen...
Scott winced as he felt a wet crunch under his hands. He was definitely going to have to apologise to Virgil later for breaking a rib or two. The brunette just hoped - and prayed - that he had not managed to puncture a lung...
Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one...
"C'mon, Virg.."
His words came out a hint softer this time.
It was less of an order.
More of a plea.
Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six...
"Stay with me, bro."
Even with his gloves on, he could feel his hands becoming slick with his own blood. Scott gritted his teeth, locking his fingers tighter in determination. The chunk of rock embedded in his shoulder was impinging his range of movement, hindering him. But as much as his instincts wanted to just yank the piece free, he knew it would be a very bad decision...
Thirty!
His body was moving before his mind could register; breathing for his brother. Virgil looked so still. Almost peaceful. Like he was asleep...
No time to think like that!
He was already back on Virgil's chest before he knew it. Blood from his shoulder wound had already seeped into the fallen pilot's uniform like a grim placement marker for his hands.
One, two, three...
"Don't you dare leave me, Virgil.."
He could feel his muscles starting to tire and ache with strain and fatigue.
Where the hell was Gordon?!
Six, seven, eight...
"Come back to me."
He heard his own voice waver, cracking ever so slightly.
What if Virgil did not wake up?
Scott was the eldest. A decorated Air Force pilot. The Field Commander of International Rescue. He was supposed to be the one that his brothers and teammates looked up to.
An unbreakable force to be reckoned with.
But all of that meant nothing if Virgil was not by his side.
In Scott's eyes, Virgil was the actually the strongest of them all. Not just in physique, but also mentally. Emotionally.
He was the glue that held the family together. Especially after their father had gone missing.
He was what kept Scott grounded. His wingman.
Ever since they were toddlers, the two of them were almost inseparable. The brotherly bond that they shared with each other was uncanny - even when compared with their other siblings. It was one of the biggest elements that made the pair of them such an efficient duo whilst out on missions.
"Goddammit, Virgil, wake up!" Scott yelled in a mixture of frustration and desperation.
There was a stinging heat in his eyes, blurring his vision as he continued to push down on Virgil's chest. His jaw tightened, determined not to let the tears fall.
Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen...
"I need you..."
The usual, commanding tone of his voice had ebbed; authority replaced with anguish.
Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four...
"C'mon, Virg.. Who else is gonna keep me in check?" he heard his voice crack again - not helped by the lump in his throat.
Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight...
"I.. I can't do this without you.."
Thirty.
Head tilt.
Chin lift.
One breath.
Two.
Back on the chest.
"Please, Virg... Come back..."
His voice was hoarse, ragged breaths stinging his throat. He was starting to tire... Although he was unsure if it was from genuine exhaustion, blood loss or a combination of both.
Five, six, seven...
At first, he thought he was imagining things.
But the faint quaking reverberating through the ground around them quickly grew stronger, soon joined by a low, rumbling sound.
Blue eyes glanced around at their surroundings, hands never leaving Virgil's chest as he tried to look for the source of the disturbance, struggling to take everything in whilst keeping count of the chest compressions in his head.
Ten, eleven, twelve...
Loose pebbles and rocks started to rain down over them with the increasing tremors and Scott realised that their helmets were out of reach. In order to get to them, he would have to stop CPR...
The thunderous sound increased, accompanied by more falling sediment.
Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen...
Scott gave another desperate glance around, his mind racing. There was not a chance in hell that he was going to leave Virgil. Besides, there was nowhere for him to go: They were stranded on a ledge - and he had lost his grapple gun earlier when he had been speared by the falling rock that was currently still embedded in his shoulder.
Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-thr-
His train of thought was abruptly halted as part of the quarry face not too far from them seemed to explode, sending debris scattering in a multitude of directions.
Honed instincts took over and Scott moved quickly, shielding as much of Virgil's prone form as possible with his own body. He drew in a sharp breath, eyes tightly shut as he braced for the inevitable.
If the two of them were going to go down, it was the very least he could do.
So.. Chapter three ended up being even longer than its predecessors!
Thanks so much for reading! :3
Please do leave a review if you enjoyed reading this - reviews keep me motivated ^^;
