Woof

Per the request of the Resuscord Discord server, I have decided to post one of my more successful story's from the server onto my tumblr account.

This tale contains the following

Choking

Heimlich Maneuver

Back blows

CPR

MtM

Mouth sweeps

Precordeal thumps

Mild retching mention

Two Female Rescuers but in different scenarios 

One Female unconscious victim 

A mention of trigeminal neuralgia, but not resus related

Successful resus

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Part one: Elenor

On the day that Elenor Caldwell “died”, she had to say it had come out of nowhere. 

El had a pretty good morning that day. She had gotten a few articles done for the news website she helped to run, and she had managed to get a man on the street section about a famous singer that was performing in their town. And of course, she had to talk about it with her partner, Amaya Tyler.  

“So then I managed to get a photo of her as she was walking out of the sports arena after the concert, and I actually was able to get a shot of her smiling at me!”

“How in the hell did you manage to get a photo of her BEFORE the paparazzi came after her?” Amaya said, snacking on a bowl of blueberries on the kitchen counter.

“Thats the thing! I was completely lucky. Elenor said, sticking a piece of chewing gum in her mouth, and leaving it in her cheek so she had more room to talk. “I was walking around trying to get a spot before the crowd came out of the arena, and she just came out. I think she was trying to get away before the mob came after her. And since I just had my phone, I think she just thought I was a fan that left early. So I was able to get the shot.”

“Nice one.”  Amaya said, still helping herself to the fruit bowl. “Was there a crowd though? I remember the last time she was here she was..” Amaya's words cut out all of a sudden. Elenor, guessing the rest of her question, continued talking.

“Oh ya! It was a mad house out there. I almost didn't get out of there alive. I think one guy tried tossing his phone, his shirt, and God knows what else. Honestly, I might write an article about how fans need to..whats wrong?”

El had just noticed Amaya, who was pounding one of her fists into her chest while the other one was around her neck. Her face was red, and looked like she was trying to vomit, but no sound was coming out of her mouth. 

“Amaya...are you choking?” The question sounded kind of stupid, but El had to ask. Amaya, whos face hardly ever showed fear, nodded desperately at Elenor, her eyes wide, and lips turning an eerie gray blue color

“Shit!” El said, moving out of the chair and heading toward her girlfriend. “Hold on, I got you!” She moved behind Amaya, still struggling silently, and was able to put her arms around her, balling her fists up at Amaya’s stomach.

Despite Eleanor's reputation as being a blabber mouth, she was actually not a stranger to giving first aid. During a brief stay as a lifeguard when she was just graduating high school, she had actually managed to save her friend's sister when she had drowned. But this was different. This was Amaya she was saving now. A scenario that she never thought she would have to experience, but one that she would not hesitate to do.

Locking her fists together, Elenor pushed upward towards Amaya’s ribs. Each abdominal thrust lifted Amaya slightly up on her feet. 

“One...two…three…four…five! Did it work?” Elenor asked. Amaya still had her hands over her throat, and shook her head in a panicked sort of way. “Ok! I’ll try this now.”

Wrapping one arm around Amaya's waist, Elenor gave her five hard smacks on her back.  “Now?” El asked. No response from Amaya.

“Ok..you’ll be fine Amaya. Hang in there..” Elenror knew she had only just started trying to save her, but she was getting a little concerned with each failed back blow, or abdominal thrust that did little to improve her girlfriend's breathing.

“One…two…three… no no no no!” Elenor had to catch Amaya as she staggered slightly , nearly falling to the ground. When El looked at her face, it was practically purple. “Come on Amaya! Cough it up!” 

Elenor knew it was pointless to panic. She had to keep trying to save Amaya no matter what happened. But this was different than saving people at her old lifeguard job from forever ago. It was Amaya. The one who got her through her toughest days at school. The one who confronted and stood up to Elenors abusive mother. The one who was able to bring Elenor to a doctor to treat her trigeminal neuralgia. Amaya had saved her life in so many ways. She couldn't die here. Not like this.

“Come on Amaya!” Elenor shouted, lifting Amaya up in another set of thrusts. “You have to fight! Spit it out! “You can..ACK!” Elenor all of a sudden lost her power of speech. She was so surprised, she almost lost hold of Amaya. When she tried to gasp, she found out that her own airway was blocked.

“The gum…”

 Elenor really was an idiot. Why hadn't she spat out that damn gum when Amaya started choking? Now both of them were suffocating at the same time.

“Not if I can help it..”

Elenor continued giving Amaya back blows and thrusts, but this time in silence. She wondered if Amaya was scared because El had stopped talking to her. When Amaya staggered again, El tried to gasp on instinct, but felt the gum slide farther back down her windpipe.

Now Elenor was starting to have trouble standing. The adrenaline that had been rushing in her while saving Amaya was likely making her heart work overtime, and in doing so, was making the time before she could save herself limited. But she could work on that later. Amaya was in a worse state than her.

But it was clear that El was deteriorating too. Her thrusts were getting weaker and weaker. A black fog was starting to form in the corners of her eyes. She moved to giving Amaya back blows, and then..

Something small and blue popped out of Amaya's mouth. Amaya staggered away from Elenor, retching and coughing, but breathing. El had done it. Amaya was going to live.

She saw Amaya turn toward her, and could see her mouth moving. But Elenor’s world seemed to be on mute, and in slow motion. She knew she couldn't save herself, but she had saved Amaya, and that's what matters to her.

She gave her girlfriend, the person she planned to ask to marry not long from now a weak smile, and mouthed, “I love you.”

She fell onto her knees, the darkness took over her vision…

And then she was gone.

...................................................................................................................

Part Two Amaya

Air rushed into Amaya's lungs as the blueberry popped out of her throat. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. She fell onto her hands and knees, coughing and spluttering, then took a moment to gather herself, taking slow deep breaths. Her throat felt like it was on fire, but at least it was open again. If Elenor had not been there, she would definitely be dead.

“El…thank you so much.” Amaya said with a wheeze in her voice. 

Elenor was standing before her with a look of finality in her eyes. She had a small smile, and her face was turning dark blue. Her mouth moved, and then she seemed to topple like a falling tree. She landed on her knees, as if kneeling before her.  Then as if time was slowing down, she fell down in a heap on her face.

All of the discomfort Amaya had been feeling was immediately masked by a wave of shock and fear. Hadn't she been the one almost about to die? Why was Elenor on the floor just now?

Turning Elenor on her back, Amaya put her fingers to her neck. She thought she felt the faintest flutter, than nothing. 

“Oh fuck..” Amaya said, checking the pulse point on El’s wrist. Still nothing. She grabbed her phone out of her pants pocket, hit 911, and only had to wait for a single ring for a response.

“911 what's the nature of your emergency?”

“My girlfriend has collapsed. I don’t know why. She's not breathing, and I just lost her pulse.

“Do you know CPR ma’am?

“Yes, I'm certified.” She had been trained ever since she took the job as head coach for her old school, and retook courses every year. 

“What is your location?”

“Foundation apartments, building nine, room six.” She had just begun to put her hands on Elenors chest to start CPR, when she realized that the dispatcher was not asking anymore questions. And when she looked over to her side to see her phone, she saw a low battery symbol, then the screen went blank.

Her phone had just died on her.

“FUCK!” Amaya shouted to the air, half expecting Elenor to snap out of it and wonder what had happened.  But El laid on the ground, her face covered by her pink streaked brown hair. Amaya thought about going to find Elenors phone, maybe try again. But that would take a long time, and Elenor only had minutes.

Praying that the dispatcher had heard the twos address, Amaya repositioned her hands on El's chest, as they had slipped slightly when she had cursed. She then pumped down hard enough for Elenors head to bobble slightly.

“One, two, three, four, five..don’t you dare die on me El..”

While Amaya's face on the outside was stern, her mind was screaming in terror and confusion. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. Why was Amaya's funny, loud and beautiful girl friend dying like this? Her questions went on so long, she lost count of the amount of compressions she did. She debated starting again, but knew that Elenor needed air, and soon.

Tilting El’s head up, Amaya pinched her nose shut, and blew air into Els' mouth as  hard as she could. Her cheeks inflated, but her chest was not rising.

“What?” Amaya said. Moving Elenor’s head up and down to readjust it, Amaya blew in a second puff of air, but a gentler one. Again, her chest did not rise, but her cheeks puffed up like a balloon. Her lips tasted oddly minty. 

“I get it now..you had that damn gum you like so much  in your mouth.” Amaya said, her nerves calming ever so slightly now that the puzzle had been solved. She opened El’s mouth as wide as it could go, and looked closely inside. Nothing that looked out of the ordinary yet. She had to keep trying.

This time, Amaya positioned herself more or less on top of El, spreading her knees apart in a semi straddling position. Her chest compressions were kind of like half CPR, half abdominal thrust, pushing upward to try and dislodge the obstruction in El’s airway.. “I know what to do now, Elenor.” Amaya gasped. “We can do this. Just hold on ok.”

Once she had reached roughly thirty thrusts/compressions, Amaya hopped over to Elenors face again. She just now realized that El’s eyes were slightly open. Their green irises staring upward as if trying to roll all the way back into her skull. Trying to wipe that picture out of her head, Amaya gave El another set of rescue breaths, each time checking to see if the gum had popped out. Still nothing yet. 

“Come on honey…I know you're not one to give up like this. I know you can do it. You just have to breathe again..” Amaya was talking to Elenor as she went back to giving her compression thrusts. She remembered in her youth when her team mates at school were injured, she would talk to them as they recovered from whatever surgery they went through. Hopefully El would be able to hear her.

After the cycle, Amaya opened El’s mouth again, and this time she struck gold. Something whitish blue was visible in  her mouth. “Ok..ive got you El..” Amaya whispered. Carefully, she stuck her fingers in Elenors mouth, and as if she was playing the most risky claw machine game in the world, she was able to grab the gum with her fingers, and wiggle it free from El’s throat at last.

As soon as Amaya tossed the gum away, she exhaled into her girlfriend's mouth, and felt a wave of relief as she finally saw Elenors chest rise and fall with her rescue breathing. She gave around five breaths in a steady succession, trying to give Elenor as much oxygen as she possibly could. She then put her hands in between El’s breasts to give regular chest compressions again.

“We did it!  We got it out! Your almost done Elenor! You can do it!” Amaya was getting hopeful now. She felt like she was getting close.  Every compression Amaya did felt like she was getting closer to hearing her girlfriend's voice again. Every rescue breath was like a message being sent to Elenor’s soul, telling it to come back to her. She felt like she was on the right track.

But when Amaya went to check for Elenors pulse, she finally got a chance to see what her girlfriend had become. Her face and lips were a dark blue color, and her eyes were still open and unmoving. Her fingers were pointing at weird stiff angles, and it was clear that she was showing no signs of life.

“El…baby..?” Amaya shook her slightly, trying to remember if she missed any steps in her training. CPR? Check. Rescue breaths? Check. She didn't have an AED on her, and trying to get one would make El worse off. But…

Elenor was still, cold, and pale as a ghost. It was clear to Amaya that the worst had come to the love of her life. But she was not going to give in just yet.

“El! Come on! Wake up!” Amaya restarted compressions harder than she ever had before. She was going so hard she could hear little “crick, crick, crick” sounds as El’s ribs began to crack under the pressure. Her rescue breaths were loud, and a hint of a sob escaped the two interlocking lips as Amaya began to cry. “ELENOR! BREATHE! I NEED YOU!”

She had no idea what came to her, but Amaya put one hand on Elenors chest, and with the other balled into a fist, she pounded on top of the other hand over and over again. Something she saw in some movie or another, but what else was she supposed to do? Again and again and again she did this, then breathed the deepest longest breath into Elenors mouth, but El still did not move. 

Amaya crumpled besides Elenor and broke down crying. It was too late. El hadn't even so much as given an agonal gasp. She had died trying to save Amaya’s life. A freak accident, when ten minutes ago she was talking fast and excitedly about her day. But a piece of gum had taken it all away. She kissed Elenor on her cheek, rubbed her hair gently, and closed her eyes.

“Now what am I going to do?” Amaya thought. How do you even deal with something like this? What do you do when your girlfriend just dies in front of you? 

“El…I'm so, so, so sorry. This is all my fault..”

A voice rang out in Amaya’s brain. The instructor who taught her first aid telling her that the only reason she should stop is if EMS arrives, an AED arrives, if the person shows signs of life, or if you are too exhausted to keep going. Amaya wanted to slap herself. None of those things had happened. Sure she was tired, but she could keep going for as long as it took. She wouldn't just lose Elenor like that. Not while crying like an idiot.

Pulling herself up right, Amaya put her hands back on El’s chest and pumped a hard and steady beat, not stopping for rescue breaths, not stopping to check for a pulse. She vowed to just keep going with hands only CPR until somebody, anybody came to help.

“I won’t stop Elenor, I won’t give up on you. I’m sorry for even thinking about that for even a second. You mean the world to me and to all of our friends. You're going to be the god mother to Elise’s children if she has any. I won’t stop because I love you.

Amaya kept on going, non stop hands only CPR, only stopping to take a quick breath, using the opportunity to check Elenors pulse, and give her an extra set of rescue breaths. After all, they weren't going to make anything worse.

“I’m right here El, follow the sound of my voice.” Despite the soothing tones she was saying to her girl friend's body, Amaya’s eyes were blinded by tears. She could barely see Elenor at all. The next time she stopped to give rescue breaths, she missed, and planted her lips on Elenor's cheek. 

“You have to fight El. You can do this. I know you can.”

“Stop….” 

Amaya didn't know where the voice in her head was coming from, but she thought it was a doubt in her mind telling her to give up. But she wouldn't. Not while Elenor was in this much danger.

“I love you Elenor. I won’t let you die.”

“Stop..”

“I won’t stop! I’ll keep fighting for you.”

“Stop…”

“NO! I WON’T GIVE UP ON YOU! COME ON, ELENOR! COME BACK! ELENOR!!!”

“Stop! STOP!”

A grabbing sensation on her arm made Amaya almost scream. She stopped the compressions she was giving, and saw that Elenors eyes were open, and she looked like she was in great pain. One of her arms was grabbing Amaya’s, seemingly trying to stop the compressions she was being given.

Wait! Elenors eyes were open again! 

Elenor coughed a wet spluttering cough that hacked up phlegm and bits of saliva. Amaya rolled her onto her side, swept her finger though her mouth to prevent aspiration,  and collapsed into tears again. She had done it! Elenor was actually alive! 

“Owww…” Elenor wheezed, sounding disoriented. Her eyes were glassly, and her pupils were dilated, but shrinking slightly. She rubbed her throat and winced. “Amaya…you’re ok..”

Amaya kissed Elenor full on the lips and said “Me!? Look at the state of you! You scared me to death!”

“Had to make you…breathe again…” Elenor gasped. Her eyelids were fluttering slightly, but her gaze was still on Amaya's face, her black hair messy from moving all over Elenors limp body. 

“Focus on your breathing El. I think you were out for too long..” Amaya heaved Elenor up and lifted her arm over her own shoulder. “911 didn't come so I'm taking you to the hospital.”

“But you..”

“I’ll be fine. It's you we have to worry about. You're the one who almost died here. You did die!”

“Fine..” Elenor said. “But…Amaya..can I ask you something..”

“What is it?”

For the first time since she fell unconscious, Elenor smiled. “If we make it through this…will you marry me?”

That got Amaya’s attention. Not because Amaya had actually bought a fucking engagment ring and had hidden it in her cars glovebox for the better part of a week, but because she had had to watch her partner die, come back, and now she was proposing to her. 

“As long as you promise me you're not going to die ever again!” Amaya said, grasping Elenor's hand tightly.

“Sure..” Elenor said weakly. “And maybe if we have kids…we tell them our engagement was more romantic?”

“Defnitly!” Amaya said, laughing despite herself. 

On the ride to the hospital, El’s condition seemed to be taking a turn for the better. Her breathing, while still shallow and raspy, was steady. Her speech was returning to her, and seemed much more interested that they were now engaged than the fact that they had saved each other's lives.

“We saved each other's lives..” Amaya thought. “We gave everything we could to save each other, because of how much we love each other. Elenor died to save me, and I would die for her as well. Again and again and again.”

Got way too drunk the other night while competitively drinking with my heavyweight bf, I’m a lightweight.

I got nauseous, so I lied on the bed with a bag under my face. And, with my luck, I completely blacked out.

Face down against the bed, pressed against the white plastic of the lavender scented garbage bag. (I assume) unable to breathe in the way I needed to.

I cant remember anything besides a few physical sensations of him pulling me by the [neck? Hair? Collar?] up out the bag and rolling me onto the bed so I could sleep. He told me about it when I woke up the next day.

(Words: 5,020 // Content : toxic romantic relationship, mlm, medications [antipsychotics], dysphagia, gaslighting/manipulation, choking on food, back blows, partial/full obstruction, heimlich maneuver, broken ribs due to improper technique, minimal comfort)

--

The young couple sat apart on their couch, both leaning on the armrests. Mindless videos played on the TV. 

Eddie was drinking an energy drink to prepare for his night shift, and Clayton had taken his medication about an hour prior.

 Clayton was feeling tired, but Eddie enjoyed spending the time with him before he had to go in. 

Clayton was barely paying attention to the screen in front of them, as his antipsychotics continued to slow his internal processes down. 

Eddie had grown used to watching Clayton’s mental decline after he dosed himself. He was familiar with the stages. First, his wrists began to twitch. Then, his expression flattened just like his tone. 

Something else Eddie picked up on was that Clayton sometimes drooled. Not all the time, but after he took his pills, he’d notice it more. Wiping the corners of his lips, eyes darting around to make sure Eddie didn’t see it. 

Eddie saw it. He knew Clayton did a lot of things that he didn’t think were noticed. He wished he’d just tell him instead of trying to hide it and pretend it wasn’t happening— it wasn’t working in Clayton’s favor.

Eddie reached to grip onto Clay’s thigh, squeezing. Hearing a shaky sigh, he glanced over to his boyfriend. 

Clayton’s eyes were half closed, breath heavy as he tried not to fall asleep. He felt the touch, but barely registered it as more than an accidental tap. 

Eddie saw glistening on his lower lip, and felt like now was a good time to bring up what he’d been thinking about. 

“You’re drooling.” Eddie informed Clayton, as if it were a purposeful action. 

“Wh- huh? Am I-?” Clayton half snapped out of his haze, raising a hand to wipe his mouth. His cheeks heated up as he failed to find the lie. 

“Yeah, Clay.” Eddie answered what he already knew, the expression not offering any kind of reassurance or warmth. “Are you good?”

“Uh- yeah, I’m alright,” Clayton attempted to exit the conversation, but Eddie was just beginning. “Sorry,” he apologized.

“Do your pills make you drool?” Eddie asked, not paying mind to Clayton’s previous discomfort. 

Clayton thought for a moment. “Uh’huh, usually happens’on these meds,” 

“Sounds like an annoying side effect. You’ve been on this one for… a month now, right?”

“Yeah. It's just like one I had as a teen,” He answered. “They made me drool- I’d pass out not too long after takin’ em’,” He held his hand up and pinched. “Huge pills, too.”

“Ugh. Those make me choke. You couldn’t use a pill cutter?” Eddie asked him, fingers interlacing. Whatever was playing on the TV was far from his interest now. 

“Nope. My dose was too big, I wasn't allowed half pills. An’ speaking of that,” Clayton rolled his shoulders. “When I was in the ward, they had me up on some crazy shit, I’ve told you about that stuff.”

“Right,” Eddie nodded his head, pressing his lips together. He was intrigued with the topic.

“Another side effect I had was this shit called dysphagia. Made it hard to swallow anything after I’d had my dose. The techs had to uh- give me the heimlich one time.” Clayton paused. 

“What happened?” Eddie asked quickly, leaning on one fist. His interest peaked, but there was something deeper pulling him to question his experiences.

“We were allowed snacks after night meds, and it was right when it would hit hardest- I think it was the second night when I noticed it. I’d try to swallow but it wouldn’t work, and if the bite was big enough, it would get stuck.” Clayton rubbed his neck, frowning at the memory. “I was able to handle it and usually either- like- gag it back up or fight it down,”

Eddie nodded. His curiosity piqued as he listened in, not trying to make his interest obvious. “Wow, dude, you’ve never told me about this.” He said, taking a sip of his monster.

“Yeah- I dunno, it’s just one of those things… It’s gotten a lot better since I was a teen but- It still fuckin’ sucks.” Clayton sighed, turning his head as Eddie began to move. “Just really wish the pros outweighed the cons with these pills,”

“You said they had to save you once, right?” Eddie asked, getting up from the couch. “Do tell, Clay,” His volume increased as he walked away, disappearing into the kitchen. 

“Well- it was the same as any other time, except I couldn’t cough it up. String cheese is what did it. We were watching ‘She’s the Man’-“ Clayton began. 

“That’s a deep cut,” Eddie laughed, opening a cabinet and pulling something out. 

“Their DVD binder was ancient, that’s for sure- anyways, I was laying back, taking my time, but it got stuck,” Clayton droned, his eyes unfocusing. 

“It wasn’t coming out when I coughed, though. Someone noticed what was happening. They yanked me up, did the heimlich,”

Clayton trailed off, face shifting into loss. “Then I guess I was fine,”

Eddie came out of the kitchen, holding onto a box of crackers. “Do you not remember?” Eddie asked, going back to the couch to sit down. 

“Not really. The only thing I really remember is the feeling of not being able to swallow-“ Clayton’s eyes refocused. “But that’s just because it’s happening now.” 

“The brain is a weird, weird thing,” Eddie opened the cardboard, obtaining a cracker and taking a bite. 

“But you haven’t actually choked since starting these meds again, right?” He asked, tone darkening. He took another sip of his energy drink. 

Clayton took a breath before responding. “No, I haven’t, but I know it could happen.” He shifted, turning his attention back to the garbage playing on their TV. 

“Hm,” Eddie set his can down on the coffee table. “How do you know?” He asked, leaning back on the couch. 

Clayton was caught slightly off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Eddie repositioned himself, crossing his legs and setting the box on his thigh. “What if it’s just the anxiety that’s making it hard to swallow?”

Clayton paused, staring at Eddie with confusion. “I don’t think-... no, it can’t be just anxiety, it only happens when I take those meds.” 

“Anxiety can do that, you know- it makes sense too. You had a bad experience last time you took these pills- your brain is probably just trying to protect you when it doesn’t need to.” Eddie spoke as if he was completely correct, causing Clayton to feel unsure. 

“I don’t really know, Ed. It’s a really specific feeling that happens like- right here,” Clayton pointed to above his Adam’s Apple. 

“Yeah, right- I know, it’s the exact place you feel a lump when you’re nervous, right?” Eddie tilted his head, pulling out another few crackers. 

“Well- yeah, it’s the same area-“ Clayton started, but was cut off. 

“It’s the same thing, Clay. I think you’re psyching yourself out more than you need to,” Eddie cocked his eyebrows, examining the look on Clayton’s face. 

Clayton wasn’t sure how to feel, or to respond. He didn’t really believe Eddie, and he didn’t want to throw his caution to the wind because it might be anxiety. 

His silence didn’t push Eddie to stop prodding. He wanted to see if Clayton was being just dramatic about it, or if he really had a reason to be afraid. 

“Try some crackers.” Eddie held the food out in the direction of Clayton, who stared at it like it was poison. 

“That’s like- one of the worst ones to try-“ Clayton didn’t reach to take them, he just stared with his eyebrows furrowed. 

“What, crackers? C’mon, man. You can drink a smoothie but can’t have a saltine?” Eddie belittled, laughing. 

“They’re two totally different consistencies, dude.” Clayton remained still, unsure if the laughing was directed at him.  

“You’re acting like an old man. It’s not that serious, you just need to try.” Eddie pushed the crackers into Clayton’s hand, forcing him to take it. 

“You know what, Ed, I really don’t want to do this.” Clayton expressed his genuine discomfort, but it wasn’t met with the same concern. 

“Why’re you making a big deal? It’s two crackers. You’re acting like you’re gonna die.” Eddie scoffed, taking some more crackers out of the box for himself. “It’s easy, just look.” He bit into a chip, and chewed. 

“I don’t want to risk it,” Clayton continued, frowning. 

Eddie swallowed his food, and took an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my god! I’m alive.” 

“You’re not taking me seriously, dude.” Clayton disliked the pressure he was feeling. He didn’t think it was a big deal either, but it shouldn’t be such a problem to express a boundary. 

“Listen, Clay. If anything happens, I’ll be right here.” Eddie’s tone shifted into a comforting one, which made Clayton’s head feel even worse. “But nothing is gonna happen. It’s been… how many years since the last time?” 

Clayton hesitated before answering, feeling his brief certainty ebb away with Eddie’s words. “Almost ten years.” 

Eddie laughed again. “Ten years, man. That’s a long time to be afraid.” 

Clayton furrowed his brows, but kept quiet. He didn’t feel like going back and forth with Eddie over something as stupid as crackers. 

The TV droned on in the background, Clayton glanced at the crackers in his hand. His appetite made them resemble cardboard more than something edible.

If Clayton’s brain were anything more than mush right now, he would’ve fought more for his ground. Every word he spoke felt like trying to shovel tar. 

Eddie wasn’t interested in the silence. He prodded, despite Clayton’s clear hesitance. “Are you trying to make them disappear with your mind?” 

Clayton groaned. “Jesus Christ, Ed! Give me a fuckin’ second to think, why are you being like this?” The most energy Clayton had given all hour just came out, and he knew it didn’t have the desired effect.  

“It’s been a minute since you’ve moved, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t die overthinking about it.” Eddie knew that what he was saying would push Clayton. That was his goal.

“God. You’re so… whatever. Whatever, man.” Clayton sighed, lifting the crackers up to his face. He didn’t want to hear anything more about what Eddie thought he knew. 

Dread creeped up Clayton’s spine as he popped a cracker into his mouth. He began to chew slowly, before sliding the second one in after. 

Eddie stared at him, savoring the first moments like he just won a debate. “Not that bad, huh?” 

Clayton glared at Eddie from the side. “Tastes like paper.” He said through his bite, trying to focus on his chewing. 

He felt uncomfortable from Eddie’s unbreaking stare, it wasn’t helping his self consciousness. He tried to focus regardless. 

The time Clayton was taking made Eddie impatient. He had exceeded the standard 20 chews by at least double that amount already. “Any slower and you’ll digest it.”

The comment bothered Clayton more than it should’ve. His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing at Eddie’s pressure. 

The tension made it hard for Clay to focus on what he needed to, and he wanted more to snap at Eddie than to be careful. Readying a response, Clayton swallowed his bite. 

He tried to, anyway. 

His tongue swept the food to the back of his throat, but the reflex that brought food down failed to work. Within a second of attempting, Clayton realized that the food hadn’t gone down. He could still breathe, but he couldn’t speak.

Clayton was suddenly entirely focused on the danger stuck in his gullet. His throat bobbed as he attempted to swallow again, but nothing happened. 

Eddie noticed the look on Clayton’s face. He tilted his head, noting how deep and deliberate each breath he took was. “What’s that face for?”

Clayton couldn’t respond even if he wanted to. He could feel his eyebrow twitch, trying to swallow repeatedly. It felt like his muscles had turned off. 

Clayton’s hand raised to his neck, touching the skin right over his Adams apple. He still hadn’t looked at Eddie since this happened.

“Uh oh, are you alright?” Eddie’s tone wasn’t entirely serious, but he noticed the vibe shift. It wasn't one he could play off as humorous. 

Clayton held a finger up at Eddie, attempting once more to fight the food down. The motion caused the obstruction to shift, tickling his gag reflex. It triggered a sudden coughing fit.

“Oh- shoot,” Eddie didn’t anticipate that sudden reaction. He reached out to pat his back a few times, eyebrows lowering in concern. “C’mon, dude. Cough it up,” 

Clayton didn’t like the touch, but he couldn’t verbally protest. As his lungs depleted, he sucked in another replenishing breath- but the worst occurred. 

 “Sclk-“ The force of the gasp caused the food to shoot to the opening of his trachea. Clayton’s heart sank to his stomach.

“You good, man?” Eddie asked, too little too late. He was starting to have a hard time blaming drama for the others reaction. 

Clayton barely noticed the words spoken to him, his full focus was on the complete block in his throat. His mouth gaped, nothing but a sickly wheeze rewarded him. 

Calling this "just anxiety” was insulting. If he could manage a breath, he’d waste it all on a panic attack. Nothing about the prior argument mattered anymore, Clayton just wished that he would’ve stood his ground. 

“Are you choking?” Eddie asked, his voice noticeably smaller. He remained in his seat, the air around him tense. 

Clayton nodded firmly, feeling his face redden from the pressure. His hand clutched his throat, knuckles white. 

Eddie felt it was necessary to confirm again. “Are you being serious?”

Clayton couldn’t keep himself still, he felt like he was alone. He stumbled out of his position, using the table to help him up to his feet. His head pounded with adrenaline, making him briefly forget his lethargy. 

Eddie got up right after him. “Hang on- hold still, let me help you!” He shouted, grabbing at Clayton’s arm. 

‘I can’t breathe, I can’t-‘

Clayton felt like his head was going to explode. He was doubled over, retching uselessly. He took some unconscious steps away, wavering unsteadily from the shock. 

“Dude! Get over here-!” Eddie wasn’t going to wait for Clayton to listen, it was clear he was focused on other things. Eddie moved around the coffee table, finally able to get a hold on Clayton’s sweater. 

Eddie pulled the other right into his arms, scrambling to keep him steady. He caught a glance of his pale face, feeling the weight of reality  

 ‘He never fuckin’ listens to me,’ Clayton’s mind ran. He felt separated from his body, almost enough to ignore the feeling of arms wrapped around his lower ribcage. 

“I was just messin’ with you, Clay!” Eddie spoke up, his voice exasperated. Clayton was pressed against his front, he could feel every oxygen starved twitch deeper than he should’ve. 

Tightening his fist just a bit too high above Clayton’s navel, Eddie aggressively thrusted back and up into Clay’s diaphragm. He felt a sickening snap.

“GRK-!” A strangled expression of pain escaped Clayton’s throat. He felt an agonizing twinge at the bottom of his ribs, further irritated by the continued hold. 

 “Fuck- I’m sorry!” Eddie’s heart dropped, quickly realizing what he’d done. In a swift movement, he readjusted to where he was supposed to be.

Pulling back gently to ensure he wasn’t going to further break his bones, Eddie noted the tension Clayton had in his body. His abdomen wasn’t soft, it was strained as his body fought for consciousness and air. 

Clayton’s diaphragm convulsed, the pain dissolving and mixing with the desperation. His purple lips sparkled with numbness- he was sure this was it. 

‘I’m going to suffocate,’ Clayton thought, his eyes were starting to roll. He couldn’t feel the tears sliding down his face. The pain emanating from his ribcage felt like fire, and he couldn’t do a thing about it. 

Eddie savored enough of what he could, tasting every second of his boyfriend's struggle. He broke himself out of his trance, and thrusted into Clayton again. He didn’t feel any broken bones this time. 

Their bodies pressed together briefly, Clayton’s ass pushing against Eddie’s groin. It made his stomach flutter. Even in the motion, he could feel the other’s inability to keep still. 

‘He’s movin’ so much,’ Eddie was having a hard time keeping his mind out of the gutter. The friction masked the warmth rushing to his crotch, he didn’t notice the growing erection in his pants. 

Eddie thrusted again, again, and again. He leaned forwards briefly, stopping to check Clayton’s face. 

The skin around his eyes and mouth were blue. Eddie felt a lot more frantic suddenly. 

“Fuck- I didn’t think you’d actually choke!” The words slipped out of him, not really thinking anymore. He resumed his original position, fists curling into Clayton’s softening abdomen. 

Despite Clayton’s slipping consciousness, he heard what Eddie had to say. If he had any more energy to spend, he’d punch the shit out of him. 

He could barely see through the tears collecting in his eyes, he was certain that these were his last moments awake on earth. 

As Eddie thrusted, Clay felt a shift in his throat. “Huk-” The noise was forced out of him, he had no control of his vocal chords. 

Clayton was able to suck in air as if he were breathing through a coffee stirrer. It wasn’t what he needed, but it made things clearer for the moment. 

His mind quieted down enough to notice something he was feeling, not in his own body but right behind him. Another heimlich thrust forced him up off his feet, squeezing another choked sound from him. “Ghn..”

As the pressure let off, Clay realized what he was feeling on the back of his pants. ‘Is… is he hard right now?’

Eddie reacted positively to the sounds. “Yes- there you go! Can you breathe?” He sounded ecstatic, although it was a little too early to celebrate. He paused the heimlich, wanting to make sure he wasn’t unnecessarily harming the other. 

Clayton shook his head sharply, focusing on sucking as much air in as he could. The oxygen deprivation made it difficult for him to think straight. “Nn... Noo-“ 

“That’s okay- you’re fine, can you cough?” Eddie kept his hold on Clayton, not putting any pressure on his irritated ribs, but not letting him go. 

‘Help, please help,’ Clayton shook his head again, warmth rushing to it as he wheezed. He wanted Eddie to continue thrusting, he didn’t know that he had stopped for his own safety. 

“Just try to cough- you’re doing great, Clay, just try to cough,” Eddie had shifted his mindset into taking care of this issue, and planned to deal with what occurred before when the danger was away. 

Clayton was still feeling distressed, but he couldn’t protest what Eddie was doing. Mustering up some drive, he attempted to clear his throat with a cough. 

It was dry and painful, and it didn’t sound like it was helpful. Eddie could hear the obstruction shift as he hacked. Clayton’s back tensed, he was running out of the air he’d worked so hard to get back. 

“Good job, Clay. You’re okay, you’re passing air,” Eddie reassured him. He felt Clayton waver as he attempted to inhale, his ribcage shaking with the strain. “Keep it up,”

Eddie heard the stridor of Clayton’s windpipe, cringing at the noise. He strengthened his support, keeping the other as steady as possible. As he repositioned, he finally felt the familiar tightness in his jeans. 

Blood rushed to his cheeks, his fluster peaking up even through this dire moment. For a moment, his mind went entirely blank. He was going to assess these feelings later, after danger was far away.

“Hhuh-… hel-,” Clayton’s need was dire, he didn’t understand why Eddie had stopped trying to assist in the way he was. Every movement made him shift against what he was trying to ignore, and the slight oxygen he received was making him overly antsy.

“Just focus on coughing, Clay,” Eddie said softly, holding him steady. “If I try to help you now, it might get worse,” He leaned forward a little bit, trying to get a better look at his face. It appeared that blood had made its way back to his head, his cheeks and the skin around was all red. His eyes were still huge, pleading for this to stop.

Clayton wanted nothing more than for Eddie to assist. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why he stopped, but he couldn’t ask. He heaved, forcefully coughing as hard as he could.

As seconds passed, Clayton hadn’t yet cleared his airway. Anxiety prickled in Eddie’s head, the seconds that passed stretching into apparent hours. Even though he was breathing, it wasn’t enough. 

Clayton wavered in Eddie’s grasp, fighting the gravity that was pulling him down. His vision was spinning, every gasp that tore through his obstructed throat made the oxygen desperation more painful.

“Fuck…” Eddie grumbled, beginning to reposition himself back to where he just was. “You’re going good, just…” He crossed his fingers over his left fist right over Clayton’s bruised stomach, before swiftly pulling back once more.

The air Clayton had been fighting for actually helped when Eddie gave him another abdominal thrust, forcing the obstruction loose from its wedge. A choked noise crawled from his throat. He doubled over and hacked, nearly knocking Eddie off balance from the speed.

What Clayton coughed up onto the floor seemed incredibly small compared to the fight for life he just experienced, but he wasn’t focusing on that right now. He lost the strength to keep himself up, his knees buckling.

“Holy fuck, Clay- hang on, I got you,” Eddie fastened his grip around Clayton after the issue was cleared, trying to help him avoid hitting the ground. 

The movement sent shooting pains through Clayton’s ribcage. He couldn’t keep himself from whining in agony— the only thing that quieted him down was his oxygen deprivation. “Nngh… ow-“

Eddie loosened his hold on Clayton, still keeping his shaking form from falling. Guilt began to creep up his back. 

“Are you alright..?” Eddie said softly, breaking the near silence. He was bearing most of Clayton’s weight, 

Clayton was catching his breath as he was questioned, still regaining the feeling in his hands and legs “Put me down…” he wheezed.

Eddie didn’t think he heard him right. “What?” He asked, leaning in to get another look at Clayton’s expression. 

“Put me-,” he rasped, grasping at Eddie’s wrists. “Put me down,” 

“Alright, give me a second,” Eddie carefully walked back over to the couch they were sitting on just a few minutes prior, and slowly led Clayton back down onto it. 

Eddie guided Clayton to sit on him once he was on the couch, but Clayton was moving as soon as he was let go of. He pulled himself off Eddie, managing to make his way back to his side. He was shaky, slow, and whimpering with every movement. 

“Fuck… uhn- fuck-,” Clayton grasped at his abdomen. He was having a hard time concealing his pain, he had no time to process what just happened before something else started to worsen. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked quietly, still shaking from the adrenaline. The TV was silent now, the video they were watching had ended during the commotion. . 

They’d both tuned out the video playing on the TV. He was fully turned towards the other. 

Clayton refused to make eye contact with Eddie. He kept trying to put pressure on the indescribable ache of his lower ribs, but every shift— every breath— made the pain hotter.

“It hurts,” Clayton’s voice was broken, shredded from the lifesaving efforts. He remained curled in on himself, knees bent loosely. 

Eddie bit his lip. “You’re alright, babe, here- uh,” he reached out to touch Clayton’s shoulder in distant comfort. “Maybe we should go to the ER,”

Clayton didn’t respond. He stared off into the carpet, unable to ignore the stinging in his throat. A deep bruise was forming under his ribs. 

The pressure that Eddie put on him right before everything went wrong fueled the near shutdown of Clayton’s mind after the immediate danger was away. 

“Clayton?” Eddie cut the brief silence, noticing the apparent dissociation his boyfriend was experiencing. “Do you need help grounding?”

Clayton wasn’t feeling dissociative, he was angry. “I fuckin’ told you,” he started, taking an unsteady breath. “I told you I didn’t want to do that-“

Eddie felt the sudden need to defend himself from his recently traumatized boyfriend. “No way, dude- don’t make this my fault,” 

“Eddie- I told you, and you just-“ more tears started to form in Clayton’s eyes, shedding over the internal pain he was feeling.

Eddie retracted his hand from Clayton’s shoulder. “You could’ve just- not eaten it, Clay,” his tone diminished the severity of what just happened. “You could’ve told me no,”

Clayton had to clear his throat to avoid coughing.  He winced at the movement, pain from his damaged ribcage making every shift unbearable. He mumbled a curse to himself. 

“I did-... You pushed me..!” He raised his voice, causing it to crack. “You told me it was in my head, it’s just anxiety!” 

“I was just joking around with you,” Eddie’s brows furrowed, taking only a moment to notice his pained expression. He didn’t want to apologize. “You didn’t have to eat it if you really didn’t want to-“

“I wasn’t laughing,” Clayton quieted down significantly, unable to suppress the pain for this unnecessary argument. “It wasn’t funny at all,”

“I get that-“ Eddie fidget with his hands, appearing restless. “Listen, we should really go to the emergency room,” He didn’t enjoy watching Clayton sit with the physical pain.

“Fuck- why would make me do that, Eddie?” Clayton was quickly spiraling, shedding tears over the broken trust. He wanted Eddie to apologize and comfort him, not argue over a crossed boundary. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Eddie began to get up from the couch. He stood in front of Clayton, holding his hand out to help him stand. “Come on, dude, let’s go,”

The dismissal hurt Clayton further, the emotion tearing a broken sob from him. “You broke my ribs,” for the first time, he made brief eye contact. 

“I didn’t- FUCK!” Eddie’s own feelings exploded, he turned around and took some steps away. “I was trying to fucking save you, Clay! That’s why I’m trying to go to the ER!” He felt unable to contain his voice, feeling frustrated with the inability to brush this off. 

Clayton continued to cry, feeling unable to argue back with Eddie. His head sank, blinking tears into his own lap. He felt incredibly alone at this moment. 

The silence Eddie had to sit with caused the guilt to rise up again. It was hard to argue with someone who couldn’t give you anything good back. 

He found it difficult to endure the sounds of Clayton crying. After a few painful seconds of watching him, Eddie spit out a sad apology. “I’m sorry that happened, I didn’t- I didn’t want to hurt you”

Clayton still needed time to feel what he was feeling before accepting anything. He took a shaky breath in, still sore from the prior abuse. He reached up and wiped his eyes. 

“It’s hard to breathe,” He squeaked, keeping his gaze to himself. Every shift reminded him of what just happened, it was impossible to ignore. 

Eddie blinked slowly, fighting the urge to reignite the argument. “Can we go to the ER, please?” His tone sounded edged with frustration, losing the patience he never had. 

Clayton was clearly favoring silence over responsiveness. The medications he’d taken had once again become impossible to ignore, causing him slight dissociation. Eddie wasn’t understanding. 

“Clay,” Eddie spoke up, walking back over to his area on the couch. He held his hand out. “Please, babe, we need to go in,”

A muffled grunt came from Clayton. “Don’t you have work?” He asked, beginning to loosen his posture. 

“I’m calling out,” Eddie answered, waving his hand to try and get Clayton to look up at him. “I’ve gotta take care of you,”

Clayton laughed emptily, no smile accompanying the sound. Eddie’s words still hurt even when he was trying to help. With a flat expression, he reached out and grabbed onto him.

Eddie gripped him, gently pulling him up to his feet. He didn’t let go once he was up, placing his hands on Clayton’s sides to help him stay up. “Do you need to get anything before we go?” He asked, glancing up to the front door. 

Clayton found talking to be nearly unbearable as he stood. He clenched his teeth together, breath shaking as he steadied himself. “Nn… no,” thinking about walking made him nauseous. 

“Alright, that's cool, let’s, uh-“ Eddie reached down to grab his energy drink. “Let’s get going,” he spoke like they were going to the grocery store. He began to walk, guiding the other with him. 

Clayton didn’t register the words, he just moved when movement occurred. Each step sent fire through his ribcage. There wasn’t any kind of position he could stay in that kept the pain away. 

The effects of his medication dulled his perceptions and expressions, but not the stress his body just went through. He needed someone to help him feel safe, not someone who made him feel bad for almost dying. 

They both exited the home, Eddie locking the door behind them. Full dissociation had taken over Clayton’s mind, and he wasn’t in any mood to talk. 

Eddie didn’t necessarily want to talk, so the silence continued. His head replayed the incident that occurred, unable to place the frustration on a single party.

The sounds of footsteps on the concrete aided Clayton more than anything. The voices in his head weren’t comforting, Eddie was just a crutch.

Clayton almost wished he hadn’t been saved.

--

recent post w/ illustration of this story:

Maybe listen to your boyfriend next time and he won't almost die.

Or don't, if it gets you off. Whatever floats your boat.

and no, this isn’t me saying “write that messed up, disgusting thing” because while, yes, write it if it’s what you want (I myself enjoy writing dark fics, something I believe would be considered “vile” to a lot of people), this is me saying in a world of censorship and capitalism, ao3 really is a treasure.