Whatever It Takes {MxM} *COMPLETE*

{17} - So Cold

Undiscernible voices, high in pitch, laced with anger. They woke him even as he tried to tune it all out and stay in the peaceful bliss of his sleep.

"Stay awake dammit. Stay awake!" then. "Yes, you're doing it. Fight it!"

His eyes as yet unopened, he shifted where he lay toward the echoing voice and nearly cried his eyes out at the unbearable pain that shot up his side and seemed to spread to nearly all of his torso. What the fuck was that?

God that hurt!

Breathing heavily, trying to gulp in as much air as he could, he threw his arms out and tried to grasp something, anything with his hands that would give him enough purchase and support so as to help him lift himself up and onto his other side where the pain was not so unbelievable.

He felt as though he'd been run over by a truck at least ten times, slapped incessantly across the face by a psychopathic gorilla, stampeded on by a group of wild boars while hyenas laughed nearby and flung all over the place by a sling shot with no actual fucking sling.

Oh, he felt peachy. Really.

He basically had no idea why he felt so horrible or why he was in pain. Much less why he couldn't really open his eyes but something was wrong. He could feel it in his marrow. He could feel it in his chest. Something was wrong with his pulse.

It didn't sound normal. It was too fast. It was too slow. It was erratic and calm all at one time and it scared him when all of a sudden it was as if he could hear his own heart thumping, faltering, slowing and speeding up, so very dangerously.

And then...he felt nothing.

"Clear!"

So much pain.

So much pain, it burned in his chest and spread like wildfire all over him. It was relentless in its assault as it slaughtered him mercilessly. He was being thrown up high, only to fall back onto what he could finally discern was a cot of some sort.

"Three fifty!" came the echoing shout. "I'm gonna need the three fifty. Give it to me Chevet. Clear!"

Chevet?

But he had no time to ponder the name as another excruciating flash of pain ripped through him, robbing him of any and all of his precious breath. His beating heart faltered, thumped again, slowed to a solid beep and yet, the onslaught of pain commenced again as he felt something press down onto his chest.

"Give me four hundred, Becker and quit your god damned crying or I'll throw this paddle at your face and set it to fry. Clear!"

Paddle? Oh dear god no.

Once again, he was thrown up, much to his utter suffering. He was alive for shit sake. They were electrocuting him over and over as though he were dead. Killing him slowly but surely every time those paddles touched his chest and he didn't know how much pain he could keep taking.

I'm alive. I'm alive!

He wanted to scream but even as he tried to form the words that only his mind could yell, he felt the charged jolt again, the continuous pain of it, as if it would never end. It hurt so much, he thought he would faint.

But this time, it blasted through him like a bomb exploding somewhere near his brain, kicking it into high gear and propelling his body upward even as his eyes opened wide and his breath whooshed inward as though he were gasping for breath after years of depravation.

"Stooooooooop!"

He could feel the vibration of the scream leave his abused body and he winced as all it did was bring him more pain. He lashed out with his fists, trying in vain to knock the living shit out of whoever dared to hurt him like this but he encountered only air and it frustrated him even more.