Dean

Her lips are parted, with small gasps escaping each time his strong hands sink deep into her fragile chest. 

For a moment, he glances down from her grey, lifeless face to see the ripple of her skin, moving from the base of her sternum where his warm palm sits, down across her tummy.

“Come on, breathe for me!” he pleads, diverting his eyes back to hers, catching sight of her discoloured cheeks and lips. Was he wasting his time? No. No, he won’t stop! He can’t. The tension shows in his face, his eyes focused, brows 

His left hand shifts away from his right, which remains firmly planted on her soft chest, continuing one handed compressions. He slides two fingers along the side of her neck. He feels a weak and thready pulse, only present with his firm pressure upon her heart. He pauses briefly. Nothing. A look of panic is etched upon his usually calm face. 

“Don’t you quit on me now, you’re stronger than this, I know you are!” he commands her, pounding on her reddened sternum with his clenched fist before stroking his forehead and releasing a long, frustrated sigh.

He lowers his body across hers, moving a hand to the back of her head, gently tilting it back. Both of his lips wrap around only the bottom of hers, teasing them from their slightly parted state so that he may breathe for her.

His soft lips make firm contact with hers, forming a seal. He breathes deeply into her, feeling the cooling, bare skin of her chest rise into his. “Please, take a breath for me.” he whispers softly, before exhaling slowly and smoothly into her.

He pulled back, sitting upright across her hips. He planted the palm of his hand back onto her chest, tracing across to her left nipple with his fingertips. He massaged it firmly for a moment, squeezing it between his thumb and index finger. He wanted her to softly moan, anything at all. But not, she was almost gone.

“It’s been twenty minutes, M. We’ve got fine v-fib here, what’s the point?” Clara protested, preparing the defibrillator for another shock.

Taking the paddles, she placed them again on Laura’s soft, discoloured skin.

“OK, all charged, you clear?” Clara asked, looking up at Marie.

“I’m clear.” she replied, having shuffled back from Laura’s shoulder.

Clara released another jolt of electricity through Laura’s weak and frail heart. Her body twitched on the tiled floor, coming to rest motionless.

“Still nothing, try again.” Marie sighed, squeezing the bag between shocks and glancing longingly at the jagged trace running across the portable monitor.

“OK, ready to go again, clear?” Clara checked.

Another shock passed through Laura’s body, the monitor briefly flatlining before returning to a weak v-fib.

Clara almost threw the paddles aside in frustration and shifted frantically to tower over Laura’s chest again. Finding her sternum, hard and fast compressions resumed.

Despite her slender frame, Clara was strong and always ready for an exhausting resuscitation effort.

Her hands manually pumped Laura’s quivering heart, occasionally pausing for Marie to squeeze air into her lungs. Both turned their heads to watch the compressions disturb the output on the monitor. Each one created a small, smooth wave on the faded, scratched screen.

Following the round of compressions, Marie issued more drugs to try and stimulate Laura’s heart. At the same moment, Clara carefully peeled back each of Laura’s eyelids, slowly scanning back and forth across her pupils with the torch.

“Pupils are reactive, our girl is still with us.” Clara confirmed, with a hint of new-found hope.

“Let’s shock her again.” Clara suggested, Marie nodding back.

The paddles were charged once more, the gel reapplied and the two girls looked hopefully across at each other.

“This is it, right? It has to be.” Marie reassured herself, or at least tried.

He leaned forward across her, grasping her nose and awkwardly breathing for her again. Two deep breaths filled her lungs, her chest almost rising into his. His warm lips lingered on hers for just a moment. He pulled away slowly, sitting back up.

For no reason other than frustration, he made a fist and slammed it down upon her chest. “Beat, damn you!” he growled. Her body jerked from the impact, her head rolling a little.

He opened the top couple of buttons on his smart shirt before resuming compressions. With the palm of his hand embedded in her skin, manually pumping her heart, they had almost become one.

His strong arms were becoming tired, but it didn’t hinder his efforts. On one compression, with his hands firmly squeezing her heart, she gasped. Her head jolted back and her arms moved a little, before she went almost limp again.

“Hey, that’s it, just take a breath!” he pleaded, shifting off her body and moving to her side, where he promptly leaned down and pressed his warm ear to her cool chest.

There was a slightly irregular, occasionally weak heartbeat - but it was there. She was alive. He continued to breathe for her, supporting her occasional frail efforts.

Eventually he felt a resistance to his breathing. She was finally back. He pulled away, looking down at her sweet face. Some colour had returned and she was blinking wearily, trying to focus.

Still lying on the rug, she raised a hand to her chest. “Oww..”

He stroked her head softly with one hand, then placed the other on top of hers.

“You’re okay, “ he smiled, “I’ve got you. I was a little scared at one point, but I knew you’d be fine.”

“What... happened?” she whispered, looking up into his eyes.

“I don’t know, but, your heart - it wanted a rest I think” he joked, trying to make light of the intense situation.

“You saved me, huh?” she smiled sweetly.

“Of course I did, there was no chance of me giving up on you.” he assured her, squeezing the hand he’d taken hold of.

“That is so, “ she paused for a moment, “hot!”

The expression on his face changed to one of surprise. One he liked - a lot.

~~ Thanks for reading. Remember it's purely for entertainment and isn't meant to be medically accurate in any way!

Remembering a back door key lived in a ‘safe’ place, he hurriedly ran to the creaky wooden side gate and bundled his way through it. Grabbing the key taped to a drainpipe, he approached the back door. His hand was shaky. “Come on, come on!” he shouted to himself, as he entered the kitchen.

He ran through her small, neatly kept home, quickly reaching his stricken friend.

“No!” he exclaimed, dropping down beside the sofa, his eyes almost in line with hers. The deathly tone of her skin and blue lips filled him with dread - was he too late?

He moved his ear next to her nose and mouth. Feeling and hearing nothing, he placed two fingers against her neck. Again he felt nothing, no sign of life. It was only then he felt his own pulse rate increase. He clenched the fingers of his right hand and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts and readying himself for what was to follow.

Standing up again, he leaned in to pick up her limp, unresponsive body.

“I’ve got you, I’m going to get you through this.” He said softly, lifting her from the sofa, stepping back and carefully placing her on the soft rug.

One arm fell to her side, palm up. The other came to rest awkwardly upon the edge of her stomach, just above her hip.

Wasting no time, he swept her hair from her face and tilted back her head, opening the airway with a jolt. Holding her nose shut with two fingers, he sealed his lips to hers and delivered two breaths, each time turning to watch her chest rise and fall.

“Breathe for me, girl, I know you can.” He whispered, reassuring her - and himself.

He almost tore open her snuggly PJ top, tugging all the way down, the buttons no match for his strength. It fell either side of her, exposing her soft skin, which gained colour only from the lighting in the room.

He bent down and pressed his ear firmly to her bare chest. “Damn it!” he exclaimed, kneeling up beside her.

He ran his fingers down from her collarbone, eventually settling the heel of his large, strong hand upon her sternum. Quickly he placed the other hand on top and interlocked his long fingers, before starting a round of deep, fast compressions. Each one forced air from her body, small gasps escaping past her parted, blue lips.

“Stay with me!” he commanded, looking straight down into her vacant eyes. “I know you can hear me in there!”

She remained unresponsive through his first round of brutal compressions. Her body had rocked, her ribs creaked beneath the strain, but as he paused, there was an eerie still and calm in the room.

“Breathe for me, please!” He pleaded, leaning down and stroking the back of his hand softly across her forehead.

... Read part 3 here:

https://drdeanrh.tumblr.com/post/675636354596667392/a-relaxing-evening-part-3-of-3

She was snuggled up wearing her favourite - quite adorable PJs. Beautifully soft and mostly pale pink, with embroidered hearts dotted around. The top had four large buttons down the front.

She began reaching across to place her empty glass back on the table. Suddenly, a shudder in her chest stopped her in her tracks. A combined expression of terror and confusion crossed her face. Her heart had pumped one last time. Following a brief twitch or two, it became still.

Her outstretched arm went limp, dropping down in front of the sofa, the glass bouncing away across the thick, fluffy rug beneath.

The book in her other hand slipped down behind her, before her head rolled to the side. Her lifeless eyes, reflecting the dance of the flames in the fireplace, gazed towards the window.

Their voice was muffled, but I managed to understand the occasional word or phrase. The state of panic and growing desperation was “Clear!”. A burst of electricity struck my trembling heart. I was grateful to be feeling no pain, just an eerie numbness and mild tingling. My body moved from the shock.

A figure moved directly over me, shadowy and unclear. Their outstretched arms settled upon my motionless chest and compressions began. My awareness grew as the blood was forced through my heart by the manual efforts of the person trying to save me.