A/N: Two things before you begin. 1) hold on and 2) remember what I've written in the past.
Special note: Line breaks are POV switches.
Lucas coughed as another wave came crashing down over him. It was a hard enough struggle to try and stay above water so he wouldn't drown. However, his legs were growing tired from treading water. He was trained to tread for at least a half hour, but that mark had past long ago. Lucas wasn't even sure how long he was in the water now. Two, possibly close to three hours. He had lost track of all time soon after the waves pushed him away from his raft, which was now long gone. Every chance he could, Lucas looked around for anything. Something to grab onto, a search plane or helicopter, anything! But he knew one thing for sure. As the cold began to seep into his bones, the struggle to keep his muscles moving became harder and harder. It became more and more difficult to stay focused on his current task and to keep his eyes open. Which only meant one thing.
He didn't have much time left.
Farkle squeezed his eyes shut as the skipper and his executive officer began to calculate where Lucas might be. He had already come up with the answer long before the XO, but he didn't bother to say anything. Farkle desperately wanted to be anywhere but sickbay. Anywhere where he could help find his best friend, but he was grounded to this miserable excuse for a bed until he had recovered enough.
"…which would put him anywhere in this region," the XO indicated on his map.
"That's eighteen hundred square miles, sir," Farkle said weakly, making him realize that maybe the chief medical officer hadn't gone overboard with his orders for recovery.
The skipper nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb. "The storm is easing up; let's try another go to find him."
OoOoO
It had been another half hour since the search had started up again. However, the search and rescue crew had no luck in finding him.
"We're not picking up an emergency beacon, sir. We'd have to pass within fifty meters to find him," the pilot of the Viking announced.
The captain sighed. "What about your radar, Commander?"
"Fuzzed out, sir. Sea state is too high. We're picking up spray."
They had found Farkle about an hour ago and took him back to the Enterprise's sick bay. From what they could tell, he appeared to be okay. To Riley, it seemed as if they had found him more than an hour ago; time was just moving by so slowly for her. And as the time passed, the less and less Riley believed that Lucas was going to be okay. Even when the two of them first met, they seemed to have a connection on whether or not the other was alright. Right now, that connection was degrading.
Footsteps soon entered the fog she was in. Riley looked up to see Maya standing a few feet away from her, trying to give her her best comforting smile.
"You know, with Farkle found, Lucas shouldn't be that far off. They'll find him in no time," Maya said as she sat down right next to Riley.
Riley, however, didn't share Maya's optimism. "It's been over an hour, Maya. If he was nearby, they would have found him by now. And it's not looking good for him from what I've heard…" she trailed.
"Riles, you don't talk like this, remember? I'm the one that has no hope. You're the one that always has hope no matter what."
The brunette shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "I'm just being realistic."
"Come on, Riles," Maya consoled as she placed a comforting hand on her best friend's shoulder. "He'll be okay."
"How can you know that? He's lost in the middle of the ocean! Nobody knows that!"
"Going below cloud deck," the Viking announced as it headed to a new search coordinate. "I'm at one hundred feet. Visibility low. Commencing search…" he trailed as he scanned the ocean's pitching sea. "Nothing…" he said after a few moments, but something soon caught his eye. "Got something! Drop the SAR buoy!"
As the SAR buoy was deployed, the Viking started to circle the area.
"Viking, what do you have?" the skipper asked.
"Stand by, sir," the aviator said as he tried to get a better look at what he had seen.
"Viking, do you read?"
"Aye sir…" he trailed as he felt his heart begin to sink. "It's an empty raft, sir. There's no one in the water."
There was a pause over the radio before the skipper spoke again. "Make another pass, then move on."
Lucas looked up in the sky and saw a large object start to fly towards him. He narrowed his eyes to try and get a better look at it through all the spray. A Viking! his mind clicked.
As the plane flew over him, Lucas tried to shout out to it. However, it kept on its course and started to disappear from Lucas' vision.
Captain McCall bit his lip after the skipper told him what had just happened. "We'll continue to search, but I don't think I have to explain what an empty raft indicates."
He sighed as he sat down in a chair beside the phone. "Thanks for trying, skipper. Please call us if there are any changes."
"Will do. Out."
McCall hung up the phone and looked up into the eyes of a worried Topanga and Cory Matthews.
"Are you going to tell Riley?" Cory asked.
The captain shook his head. "No… even though his raft was found, there's still a chance he's still out there and they'll find him. I'll inform her only when something definite comes."
The two parents nodded. "I just wish there was something we could do to help them," Topanga muttered.
"There's one thing," Captain McCall answered. "Pray."
Lucas spat out a mouthful of salt water as he allowed the currents to take him wherever they wanted to. He had given up treading water long ago; he just didn't have enough energy left in him to try and keep himself above the water's surface anymore, let alone keep his eyelids open.
As he continued to bob in the choppy waves, a large metallic object brushed up against him. Lucas opened his eyes and grabbed it. It was cylinder in shape underneath his touch, and its shape was very familiar.
SAR buoy, he concluded.
His hand reached up to the buoy's side and found the emergency transmitter that was built into it. Lucas pressed the transmit button and used whatever strength that was left in him to speak.
"Is anybody out there?" he coughed. "Can you read me? Help… help!"
"Is anybody out there...? Can you read me? Help… help!" one of the Viking's crewmembers picked up over her radio. At first she thought it was some static from the storm due to the weakness in the voice, but now it was clear that it was someone calling for help.
"Commander!" she shouted. "I've got something!"
"Can you read me?! Help! Help!"
Riley anxiously sat in Captain McCall's office, waiting on any updates on Lucas. She heard the phone ring a little while ago, but no one had told her anything about the conversation that took place, and it worried her. Her eyes drifted over towards Maya. She hadn't moved from her seat since the last time they had gotten any sort of update, which she was thankful for. Even though they didn't say much to each other over the past couple of hours, it was still nice to have her by her side.
As time ticked on, Riley closed her eyes and prayed for the umpteenth time that night. Lord, please let him be alright; please bring him back to me.
Once she finished her prayer, the sound of footsteps approaching the desk reached her ears. She lifted her head to see Captain McCall standing a few feet away from her. Both she and Maya eagerly stood up and scanned his face to try and gather any information. "Girls, you're going to want to hear this," he said before heading back out into the common area.
The two ladies dashed out behind him, eager to hear what he had found out.
"I just got off the phone with the skipper of the Enterprise. It appears that the Viking has picked up Lucas' voice that was being transmitted over a SAR buoy," he announced.
Auggie raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"A search and rescue buoy with a radio transmitter," the captain explained.
"Does that mean they know where he is?" Maya asked hopefully.
"They can home in on his signal. The Viking and SAR helo are on the way."
For the first time in a while, Riley spoke. "How long has he been in the water?"
"Over three hours," McCall answered.
"And the survival time under present conditions?" she continued.
Captain McCall sighed. "About that long."
"He's no longer transmitting, Angel," the Viking announced.
"Viking, this is Angel, we're not finding him. The sea state is too great."
"Can you get lower?" the skipper asked.
"I'm already below the minimum, but I'm taking her down," the aviator replied. He and his copilot scanned the area, but didn't see anything. "There's still no sign of him. Initiating one thousand meter search," he radioed as he brought the helicopter to a higher altitude.
Lucas looked up and saw the helo hovering over an area relatively close by. Again, he shouted to no avail. As he saw it start to pull away, he gathered his remaining strength, swallowed, and reached to his belt. Oh no… you're not getting away again, he thought to himself as he pulled out his pistol and started firing into the air.
Bright flashes came over the Angel's pilot's vision. He turned his head and saw where it was coming from. "I see muzzle flashes! Someone's down there, I'm turning back," he radioed. The aviator pulled the helo over towards where the gunfire was coming from, looked down, and smiled. "There he is!"
"What are the conditions, Angel?" the air boss asked.
"There are twenty foot swells," he reported.
"Can you get him?" the skipper radioed.
"We're going to put a swimmer in the water," he explained as he began to lower the aircraft towards the water.
"Take me down!" the swimmer shouted as the rescue crew lowered him closer and closer to Lucas. "Bring us right," he shouted. "Bring us right… bring us left!" It wasn't long before he was in the water right beside the lieutenant. "Hold us steady right here!" After another moment, he had Lucas hooked onto his harness and gave the thumbs up to bring them back up. "Keep us steady! Steer clear!" he shouted.
Once Lucas was on board, the helicopter started its way back to the ship. "We got him, skipper!"
"Bravo, all hands."
"Gangway! Clear corridors!" the medical team shouted as they rushed Lucas to sickbay. Ever since they pulled him out of the water, he was unconscious, making the little time they had to try and save him very precious.
Once through the doors to sickbay, the core men set him on one of the available beds while the medical officers started shouting orders.
"Prep a thermal angel!" one of them began.
One of the core men bit his lip. "He's ice cold."
The doctor who ordered the thermal angel shook his head as he checked Lucas' vitals. "He's severely hypothermic. Get him out of these clothes."
As another core man obeyed him, a nurse reported, "Body temperature is at thirty degrees Celsius and falling."
"Put him on a heart cardiac monitor," the chief medical officer said. "Also, get him some warm blankets and a heated liter of normal saline. Pulse and rhythm?"
"It's junctional at forty five," the nurse responded as she placed an oxygen mask over Lucas' nose.
"Give him one milligram of atropine IV."
"Saline ready?"
"Ready."
"Go!"
Despite their efforts, one of the core men shook his head as he looked at the monitors. "Respiration is falling fast."
The CMO bit back a curse and grabbed ahold of Lucas' shoulders, thinking of only the last resort. "Lieutenant… come on! Stay with me!" he pleaded as he shook the aviator's shoulders to no avail. "I'm not getting through to him…"
Captain McCall hung up the phone as he felt some relief spread over his body. "By the grace of God, Lucas has been rescued."
A huge sigh filled the room, but the hopefulness that it brought fell once McCall continued. "However, he's in the fourth stage of hypothermia."
Riley gulped. "How bad is that?"
"It's pretty serious."
"Will he make it?" she asked as she tried to choke back a sob.
"We can only hope."
"We got a diminishing pulse here!"
"Come on, Lucas!" the CMO practically shouted. "Stay with me!"
"Respiration is still falling," a core man reported.
The chief medical officer sighed. "We're out of options…" he trailed.
"Can I try?" a voice asked. The medical team turned around to see Farkle slowly making his way over to them.
After pausing for a brief moment, the CMO nodded. "Get him talking."
Farkle approached his best friend and placed a hand on Lucas' arms. He nearly pulled back at how cold his skin felt. It felt like ice under his touch, but ignored it as he grabbed ahold of his best friend's wrist, hoping to offer him some warmth.
"Lucas… come on, Lucas. It's me. You know you wanna wake up… and not just for your best friend. While I don't want have to train a new fighter jock, you can't do this to her. Riley is waiting for you back home. And you can't marry her if you're gone! Think of what this will do to her!"
"Temperature is still dropping."
"Lucas, can you hear me?!" Farkle shouted.
A sharp tone filled the room. "He's bradycardic," the nurse reported.
"Come on, Lucas! Don't do this to her!"
But he didn't respond. Only the tones of the heart monitor offered any sort of noise in the room.
Beep… beep… beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
The slow beeping from the heart monitor turned into a steady hum.
"Flat line!" the CMO shouted as he shoved Farkle out of the way, and everyone in the room started to buzz with orders and compliances.
Farkle couldn't believe what was happening. Everything around him had turned into a blur. It was as if he was watching the world come to a standstill. Doctors shouting orders. The core men and nurse responding with remarkable speed. Sudden jolts. More shouts. Tears began to spill down Farkle's face as he realized what was happening to Lucas. Come on! You can't do this!
The next thing Farkle remembered hearing were the words of the chief medical officer. "Time of death…"
A/N #2: Again, remember what I've written in the past. Depending on how people react, I may update early so no one kills me. Until next time, dear ones.