#vic lopez

Clay grabbed Sonny’s arm but Sonny shook him off. “I’m fine,” he rasped and then hacked out a cough that had him doubling over. 

“Take a breather,” Clay said.

Sonny shook his head. “We gotta get back,” he wheezed.

Lisa was in trouble. Big trouble. The biggest kind of trouble she’d probably ever been in and none of them were there to help her. If they didn’t get back in time…he couldn’t even think about what losing her would mean for the team. And for him.

“Yeah but if you leave your lungs here it’s not going to help anything,” Clay told him. “I got ya. Come on.” He got under Sonny’s shoulder and helped him to his feet.

“Hold up!” Trent said sharply. He put his head to Vic’s chest. “He’s not breathing.”

Shit. Fucking shit. Sonny could only watch, frozen in fear as Trent began to pump Vic’s chest up and down. They’d killed their rookie on the first run out. It couldn’t end this way. Not here. Not for such a fucking stupid reason.

“Trent?” Jason asked after a long minute.

Trent paused, checking for a pulse and breath sounds. He nodded. “He’s back. Let’s get out of here. If it happens again I’m gonna have to intubate and I’d rather do that onboard than out in the open.”

It was a slog back to the plane. Cerb was whining and making raspy bark sounds, turning Brock into a basket case. Sonny’s chest felt like an elephant had taken up residence, but he wasn’t going to admit that to anybody. By the time they reached the plane he’d really started to feel the effects of nearly becoming burnt toast. His head throbbed and his eyes felt raw and weepy. 

Trent and Ray lowered Vic to the ground while Brock collapsed beside him, Cerb nosing his way into his handler’s lap with a sad whine. Clay tried to shove Sonny in their direction but he dug his heels in. “I’m fine.”

“Go sit your ass down over there,” Clay said. “Go!” he said again when Sonny didn’t move. “Trent’s just gonna come after you anyway once he’s done with Brock and Vic.”

Sonny reluctantly took a seat. Trent strapped oxygen onto Vic and began taking his vital signs while Brock collapsed onto a crate and rested his head against the side of the transport, his fingers running repeatedly over Cerb’s back. 

“Tell the pilot we’re ready for take-off,” Jason said to Ray. “And put a rush on it.”

It still might not be enough. If they hadn’t gotten trapped. If they’d all just moved a little faster.

Brock started coughing violently, hunching over in his seat. “Hey, hey breathe buddy,” Sonny said, surprised when his voice came out sounding like a bucket of rusty nails. Maybe he wasn’t as all right as he’d thought.

Trent looked up and immediately grabbed two more oxygen masks. “Put this on.” He threw one at Sonny while he strapped the other one to Brock’s face. “You got tightness in your chest?” he asked.

Brock nodded wearily. “Take deep breaths all right? Tell me if it gets worse,” Trent said.

“Is Vic all right?” Sonny asked.

“Put that the fuck on right now,” Trent ordered, reaching over to shove the oxygen mask onto Sonny’s face. “You can take it off when I fucking say you can.”

Still swearing. Still mad. Good to know.

Vic let out a moan and began to stir. “Hey, no, don’t do that,” Trent said grabbing Vic’s hand to keep him from dislodging the oxygen.

Vic fought back, pushing against Bravo Four, his eyes swinging wildly around the plane in obvious confusion. Sonny pulled off his own mask despite Trent’s warning and grabbed Vic’s other arm. “Hey, hey! You’re all right! Calm down. We got you,” he said.

Vic’s eyes found his and Sonny watched some of the panic disappear. “You good?” Trent asked.

He nodded and they both let go. “Deep breaths,” Trent ordered. “Can you sit up?”

Another nod so Trent and Sonny got him up, bracing him against the wall. Trent pulled out a pen light and began to check his eyes. “Don’t see anything in there, but they’re pretty irritated. I’ll get you some saline to wash ‘em out,” he said. “You breathing okay now? It’s not too difficult?”

Vic nodded. “Good man.” Trent squeezed his shoulder and went to get the saline solution. 

Clay appeared with a couple wet towels. “Try and get off as much soot off as you can. That stuff is full of carcinogens.”

Leave it to the boy scout to know something like that. Sonny checked his watch and felt his stomach lurch. They weren’t going to make it.

There was a new tightness in his chest now that had nothing to do with smoke or fire. They had to stop this. They had to save her. 

“We’ll get there,” Clay said quietly.

“I know,” Sonny said, even though he didn’t believe it.

It was unsettling how much the whole thing was affecting him. When they’d been trapped, when smoke had filled that room, all he could think about was how much regretted the whole thing. How he hated the way he’d pushed her out. How he had been too wrapped up in his own damn hurt and anger to see that she was drowning. And instead of offering her a lifeline like family should, he’d pushed her away.

He was an asshole.

He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but choked instead, chest squeezing so tightly he thought his spine might snap. “Sonny, you all right?” Clay asked.

He shook his head, unable to stop the barking, choking hack coming from his lungs. “Trent!” Clay yelled. “Lie down. Son of a bitch Sonny lie down!”

He shoved Sonny onto his back, pressing the oxygen back over his face. His vision became fuzzy at the edges as Trent appeared. He felt like he was back underwater again, his lungs filling up, killing him from the inside out.

There was a sharp pain in his thigh and then everything went grey for a long while.

When he came to he was still on the floor, his head in Trent’s lap. “If you fucking move I will kill you,” Trent growled, his hands firmly clamped onto Sonny’s shoulders.

Moving didn’t really feel like it was on the menu so he didn’t even try. His lungs seemed to kind of be working again, but his limbs were heavy and his eyes begged to close again. He forced them open, forced his brain to work. If they were going to save Davis they needed everybody.

From his semi-upright position he could see Brock completely zonked out on Cerb’s side. Vic looked pale, his eyes red rimmed, but he was upright, drinking some water, a protein bar on the seat beside him.

“How is he?” Jason approached, his face newly stitched up.

“Better now that he’s not being a fucking idiot,” Trent said. “They all need to get checked out back at the base.”

Sonny felt a flare of panic and struggled against Trent’s grasp. “But Davis—“

Trent gripped his shoulders tighter. “I’m fucking fine!” Sonny protested.

“You almost went into respiratory arrest!”

Jason held up a hand. “We’ll take care of things with Davis. Then you get checked out. All three of you.” He turned so Vic could see him. The kid nodded tiredly. Jason pointed a finger at Sonny. “No excuses. You see a real doctor. Not one who’s using her stripper money to pay her way through medical school.”

“Scout’s honor,” Sonny rasped.