Page 50 of Come Back to Me

We know he isn’t coming back.

“Stop CPR,” Dr. Evans instructs.

Jack stands.

Emily lets out a single heart-wrenching sob.

Dr. Evans and every nurse in the room looks up at the flat line trailing across the monitor screen over the head of Teddy’s bed.

“It’s time to call it. Time of death twelve forty-two p.m. May… may he rest in peace,” Dr. Evans says somberly.

We all stand stunned, no one able to speak. Several long seconds pass.

“No! You can’t stop. No!” Jack says, his voice starting out quiet but a near roar by the end.

He’s at Teddy’s side now.

“Jack…” I start, softly.

“No! Help him, please,” he yells. When we don’t move, he starts trying to do CPR on Teddy again. “C’mon, Ted. Me and Em are here. You have to come back to us. C’mon… Please.”

Ben tries to pull him off, but Jack elbows him away. He’s frantic, trying to manage CPR and breathing for Teddy all on his own.

The incessant dinging alarms of the heart monitor mixing with Jack’s panting are the only sounds filling the room. I reach up and turn the monitor off.

“Someone, help me save him. Please. Annie, help me, please…” he begs, looking up at me.

My heart breaks as tears stream down both of our faces.

“Jack… he’s… he’s not coming back. It’s time to let him rest now…” I whisper.

Jack ignores me and keeps alternating between pushing on Teddy’s chest and trying to force air into his lungs.

Fitz and Janie, thankfully, have cleared everyone else out of the room. It’s only Jack, Emily, Ben, Trina, and me.

It isn’t until Emily comes up to the bedside, next to Jack, and puts her hands around his wrist while he tries to do chest compressions that he seems to slow at all.

“Please stop. He’s gone…” she whispers.

“No, Em. No. He has to come back to us,” Jack says.

“Please, Jack.” Her pleading tone is devastating.

Jack slows, then stops. He stares at Teddy for several long seconds. What he does next is devastatingly sad.

He leans down and lifts Teddy’s upper body off the cot, pulling him to his chest. Jack openly weeps as he holds his best friend, staying like this for several long moments. The sounds of his sobbing fill the room.

“I’m sorry, Ted. I’m so sorry. I failed you. I didn’t see it in time to help. Please forgive me,” he whispers.

Emily puts her hand on Jack’s back, and he gently lowers Teddy to the cot, tenderly brushes Teddy’s hair back from his forehead, and turns to hold Emily.

“I’m so sorry, Em,” he mumbles into her hair as they stand together crying. “I’m so sor?—”

“It’s not your fault, Jack. You helped him so much for so long, but you were never going to be able to save him forever…” she answers gently.

I want to go to him, to hold him, but I sense that Emily and their shared grief is what he needs right now. So, I watch quietly from my position on the opposite side of the cot that holds Teddy’s body.

We give them a few minutes, then move everyone into the room we reserve for grieving families.

---