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Michael hadn't been this happy in ages. He felt human again. The sun was hot on his skin, and the rocks soft against his skin. He heard waves crashing on the shore, kids yelling in the background. He was alive again.
"Michael, get up," he heard, and cracked an eye open. Jack was standing above him, looking at him with tired but happy eyes.
"Get up. You've warmed up enough. Get in the water with me," he said, tugging Michael up. Michael threw him a glare and got up, checking that his chain was still in place. He'd forgotten to take it off the first day, and he hadn't bothered taking it off the other days either. Made him feel safer to have it on him. Even if it got him some looks.
"It's unfair how good you look with all your freckles," he said, poking Jack's sun-kissed skin. Jack grinned at him in response.
"It's unfair that you can tan," Jack responded, poking Michael's already-developing tan. Michael didn't grace it with a response, just pulled Jack into the water, kissing him on the cheek before he shoved him under the water. Jack returned with a vengeance, attacking Michael and shoving him under instead. Michael spun, loosening Jack's grip on him, and swam away, making it only a few feet before Jack grabbed him by his ankle. Michael freed himself, but Jack was already treading water next to him.
"Can't escape me that easy," he said, smirking. Michael grinned at him again and dived under the water, opening his eyes and swimming towards the rock they'd spotted earlier. It was good for jumping, the water clear and deep below. The sort of depth that reflected light in that beautiful way you always saw in movies. Michael swam towards the rock, using handholds and seaweed to climb up, Jack following behind him. In a moment, he was on the top, looking into the huge, turquoise expanse. Jack poked him.
"Jump already," he said, miming shoving Michael off the rock. Michael gave him a fake glare and jumped off, curling into a cannonball halfway through.
BOOM!
The water hit like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in the hospital for a double shift. It was cold, and clear, and perfect. Michael looked up and saw the shining blue sky, and he felt a kind of joy he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He heard a second splash next to him, and met Jack's eyes underwater. Jack looked like Michael felt. Michael was pretty sure his heart was about to explode.
He swam for air, ignoring the school of fish that swam past him and the shiny shell glinting from the bottom. Jack followed suit, meeting Michael above water. He kissed him quickly, and Michael smiled against his lips. How was he this lucky?
"Uh, Michael..." Jack said, and Michael tilted his head in response. "Your chain. Did you take it off?"
Michael felt his pulse quicken. Shit. He grasped at his collarbones. No chain. Shit, shit, shit.
"Michael. Michael, calm down," he heard, and felt Jack squeeze his hand. Right. Right. He was fine.
"I'm going to dive to look for it, okay?" Jack said, and Michael nodded in response. Right. He needed to get out of panic mode. That glinting seashell. That could have been his chain.
He dove, following Jack. Not there, not there, but... there! A star, reflecting the light, laying on the bottom. He swam upwards, motioning for Jack to do the same.
"Found it," he said, pointing towards the glint of light.
"That's deep," Jack said, taking a bracing breath. Before Michael could say anything, Jack was diving, and Michael was looking at him from above.
-
Jack dove towards the bottom, propelling him downward with powerful strokes. It was deep, somewhere between 30 and 40 feet, but he could manage it. He'd dived deeper in the military.
The bottom was still far, but fast approaching, and his head was starting to ache with pressure. His strokes were getting weaker. Or maybe they just didn't take him as far. But unimportant. He had to make it down there. Michael needed that chain. He was so close.
His ears popped from the pressure. Shit, that hurt. But he was nearly there now, the shine of Michael's chain the only pinprick of light in a sea of darkness. He needed to get it.
One more desperate stroke, and he reached out and grabbed it, feeling relief mixed in with the blinding pain. His pulse was too fast, his lungs aching for oxygen. He needed to go up for air. Now.
He pushed off the sand, pulling himself upwards. He felt relief coarse through him as the light got closer, the air fast approaching.
And then, in a moment, the world changed. Water was everywhere, he was contorted, he was moving, he could see nothing but water and his mouth was full of salt and he was sinking downwards and-
His eyes were closing, mouth opening in a desperate attempt to inhale air that wasn't there, head pounding like a jackhammer, over and over again. He was sinking, water filling his mouth, and his arms had stopped moving, outstretched towards the fading light, and-
And he felt something cold wash over him. Realization. It felt like ice.
He was going to die like this. On a beach, swept away from his husband, surrounded by water and rocks. Holding a chain in his left hand, no longer holding his breath. The hospital would have to replace him. His prosthetic would pollute the ocean.
What a shame. He'd just started getting better, too. He hadn't gone up to the roof in a month. He'd been doing better.
His family wouldn't bat an eye. What family, really? His dad was dead. His mom was in a nursing home somewhere, or dead, or in jail. His sister would miss him, maybe. He hoped she wouldn't.
Michael. Michael would be ruined, devastated. He would never forgive himself. Michael would hate himself.
Michael.
He would be leaving Michael. His Michael.
In another life, this would have made him push up to the surface, but he had no more air and no more energy. He was drowning. The sun was almost gone above him.
He felt Michael's chain cutting into his hand, and he let the last slip of light fade.
-
Michael saw the terror in Jack's eyes before he felt the riptide. It took Michael like a bad dream, pushing him out to sea. Underwater, he saw Jack being swept out farther. Shit, shit, shit.
It happened too slowly and too quickly for Michael to understand. One moment, he was above water, trying to see Jack, and then he was diving, grabbing Jack in his arms, swimming to the top like his life depended on it, because it did. Jack was limp in his arms, and it made Michael want to gag. He broke the surface with a giant gasp of air. Jack stayed limp and pale. Michael's pulse quickened. He had to- Oh God. He needed a rock, somewhere to check Jack's stats. There, right there.
He dragged Jack onto the rock, turning him on his side. No. No, no, no. No respiration, weak pulse. Okay. CPR. Heimlich. Something.
He lay Jack flat on his back, putting his hands together like he'd done thousands of times, pushing fast and hard. Rhythm, he needed a rhythm. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 5. Jack was still limp, still quiet. A few more pushes, then-
Pinch the nose, blow in, lips to lips like a thousand times before, but this time it was fear and love and terror and desperation driving it. Push, and kiss, and push again. Again and again and again until-
Jack jolted upright, hacking up water. Michael quickly moved away, giving him space. Jack was soaked, shivering, coughing up water. He hacked up another mouthful and took a desperate, shaky breath, lifting his eyes.
"Michael?" He asked, voice hoarse and afraid. He tipped forward and Michael caught him, gathering him into a tight hug.
"You're okay. You're okay," he muttered, letting Jack lay his forehead on his shoulder. He was shaking, and Michael couldn't tell if it was from fear or cold.
"It's fine. I'm fine," Jack mumbled, leaning on Michael.
Michael nodded and held him tighter.
Safe. He was safe. Jack was safe.
-
Jack was shivering. He knew it didn't make sense. It was warm in the passenger seat. Michael hadn't even turned the fan.
But he was shivering.
Logically, it was reasonable. Adrenaline was wearing off, and fear was setting in. Shaking made sense.
But the logic faded as quickly as it appeared. He was wrapped in a towel, and Michael kept glancing over at him, as though he was afraid Jack would simply disappear. Jack wasn't sure that he wouldn't just disappear.
It felt like forever before they pulled up to the hotel. Michael helped Jack walk up the stairs and into their room. Jack sat on the ground, back to the door. He was still shivering. Why was he shivering?
"Jack. Do you want to shower? It'll help," Michael said, leaning next to Jack. Jack felt himself nod.
The next few moments were a blur. Jack felt like some outside force was controlling his body, giving him strength he knew he didn't have, helping him undress and take off his prosthetic and turn on the shower. Then he just sat under the hot water, letting it pour over his face. He didn't know what else he could do.
After what could have been a minute or fifteen, he got up and got out. Any other day, he would have muttered under his breath about the lack of accessibility in the shower. Now he just grabbed his crutches and limped to the suitcase, putting on his clothes with borrowed strength. He limped to the bed, and collapsed onto it, feeling like a puppet with it's strings cut. Michael was waiting for him, and quickly pulled the blanket over him when Jack collapsed into the bed. In some corner of Jack's mind, he registered that Michael had probably gone out to the outdoor shower. But the rest of his brain was quickly shutting down, exhaustion dragging him down like the water.
The water.
It was pressing on him, pushing him downwards, into the murky depths. But no, they weren't murky, they were clear and blue and dark, and there was something rising out of them, something huge and horrid, something with huge sharp teeth, and Jack was swimming upwards, his legs paddling full speed, but the thing was approaching fast and then Jack felt a blinding pain in his right leg, and when he looked down, the water was full of blood, and he was screaming, but no one could hear him, and-
"-ack. Jack. Jack, wake up."
Michael. Michael was here, Michael had a hand on Jack's shoulder, Michael was shaking him. Michael.
"Jack, you were having a nightmare. You're okay now."
Michael was lying back down and holding Jack now. Jack realized he was shaking again, tears beading at the corners of his eyes.
"Leg. Hurts," Jack muttered. Michael pulled away.
"Phantom pain?"
Jack nodded, biting his lip to stop from screaming.
"Do you want me to help?"
Jack nodded again, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling tears slip down his cheeks.
"Okay. We're going to start with breathing. Follow me, ok?"
Jack muttered a vague yes.
"Okay. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four."
Jack repeated the pattern.
"Again. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four."
Jack felt his pulse slow and the pain ease the tiniest bit.
"Again."
Jack repeated. Again and again. Bit by bit, it hurt less, until the pain was almost gone and Michael was holding Jack again.
"Thanks, Michael," he mumbled, pressing his face into Michael's chest. He felt Michael kiss the top of his head in response.
"Good night, Jack."
"G'night."
And slowly, Jack's brain shut off, part by part, until all he knew was that he was being held by Michael Robinavitch and that he was safe.
He was safe.