An intense paragraph redone...

The moment stood still as Nick watched the bullet whizzed past him. His head turned just in time to watch as the bullet lodge in Connor's chest. Nick watched as Connor stumbled back a few steps, and look down at his torso. Connor lifted his head to meet eyes with Nick. Confusion and pain flashed across Connor's face as he fell to his knees and fell over.
 Nick looked up and saw the villain begin his escape and in that second Nick had to choose: catch the killer they had worked so hard to find or help his best friend. 
In a flurry Nick was at Connor's side. Wrenching his jacket off and pressing it firmly on the  crimson stain that was blossoming from Connor's chest. Whipping out his phone and calling 911, Nick began to reassure his friend that everything would be okay. Connor looked up at his childhood friend and smiled, but the pain betrayed him as it turned into a grimace. 
Nick didn't need a medical degree to know it was bad; although he applied pressure to the wound like all the actors on TV did,  blood still continued to pour out at an all too rapid pace. He heard the ambulance in the distance, and begged Connor to hold on. 
As Nick looked into the distance again, praying for the ambulance, Connor rasped out, "I....I don't think.. I'm going to make.. it this time man..." and attempted to smile. Nick looked directly into Connor's eyes and said in a serious voice, "No man, your going to make it, I know it... I can feel it in my gut."
Tears were streaming down Nicks face as he watched his best friend turn paler than any person should be. The breaths were short rasps, a battle for air. 
Connor looked at him and murmured, "I'm sorry..." with his last breath. A single tear rolled down Connor's face as his eyes closed and the darkness took hold.
When the EMTs arrived the found Nick cradling his best friend and begging him to come back and not leave him. The EMTs tried to tear him away and began to treat  Connor, but Nick knew it was all in vain. He knew, it was already too late.