He could hear Minerva in his head, telling him to sleep, let her be in control so he wouldn't have to feel this fear, to watch his brother break down. She would die for him, he didn't have to do this.
The last memory he had was telling her he didn't need her as he watched his brother look into his face, yelling at him to keep looking at him. He wanted to tell Reed he was keeping her back, that he was being strong, and Reed had to do the same. But as his brother turned away to look at the paramedics, Ciaran slipped away, his eyes fading from dull to lifeless as they stared upwards.
"Sir, we have to work on him NOW! You need to get back and help us!" the male paramedic, a middle aged man named Stanley, yelled as he carried a heavy case from the back of the vehicle to street level. "What's his name?"
He hooked a heart monitor to Ciaran quickly as soon as he saw the boy's eyes. They weren't getting a rhythm. Based on the amount of blood around, he was in shock.
"Come on, kiddo, you gotta come back," he said, quickly unzipping Ciaran's hoodie, ripping the t-shirt underneath. The boy's torso was turning purple, he was bleeding inside. He couldn't help that though.
Pulling out the paddles, he began to work on restarting the kid's heart first.