Work Text:
It had ended with a deafening splash.
In the same instant Esquie had beaten that stupid sky snake away, its tail had whipped out and collided with his torso, sending him flying off the edge of the island they'd been visiting before anyone could do anything about it.
A flash of white fur and wooden hands he just barely missed were the last thing he remembered before his body erupted with icy fire, and the sound of the world disappeared with a rumbling rush. Water bubbles shrouded his vision and hid the sun, his hair whipping in front of his eyes as gravity committed to its act.
He knew broken bones when he felt them, and no doubt with the speed and angle he’d slammed through the sea’s surface, he’d broken several. His lungs seized as blood coughed out of his mouth, rapidly replaced by the salty water that surrounded him, invaded him, suffocated him as it made a new home out of his failing lungs. His fingers uselessly flexed and tried to tear through the water as the light of the sun grew dimmer and dimmer, a testament to just how hard he’d been hit and how far down the force of it had sent him into the sea.
Consciousness was a luxury he wasn't afforded as Verso's vision darkened rapidly against his will. His chroma was healing him, he knew that much. His bones might need to be reset once he got back on dry land, and that would suck for Future Him, but none of that meant a thing if he couldn't take a damn breath of air and stay awake.
It had been a long time since he'd been afraid of his fate.
Would he be stuck here at the bottom of the sea?
It was the singular thought he kept circling back to each time he fluttered back to consciousness. Consciousness that only lasted seconds at a time in his weakened state, barely enough to pull together a coherent thought. It would have been kinder if he could just stay in that never ending darkness.
Would Maman realize what had happened?
Would she save him?
Verso hadn't seen her in so long. Not since the Fracture — not since he'd learned she was the Paintress of their world, that she had painted him as a replacement for her dead son. All the warmth that came with being in her presence had been sucked right out of him, the icy dread of his nature settling into his lungs much the same way the chill of this water flooded them.
Would she let him go?
Would the futility of his existence at the bottom of the ocean be enough to convince her?
...
It was so cold.
Cold and dark.
Until it wasn't.
Until sound returned to him again with a splash and a heavy hand that beat against his back, forcing him to cough up the obscene amount of water that had settled at home in his lungs. He wheezed and choked as he curled his arms around his stomach, a near-fetal position as he tried to breathe around the force of it all and the miserable state he was in.
"—sy, easy—"
"Momo, he's—!"
"—having a fucking bad time, give him a minute—"
Verso struggled to get his hands out under him, to roll up at least onto all fours, head hanging as he gasped and wheezed and greedily sucked in the air that had been denied him for so long. Too weak to do much else, letting oversized hands brush and catch slightly on his soaked hair. Too dizzy to stay upright for too long, swaying until be found himself scooped up by even larger, more plush hands. He rolled himself onto his back, limbs limp as they hung between the gaps of the giant's fingers.
He flashed a weak, lopsided grin as Esquie's mask finally focused into view.
Too tired for much else, too busy getting his aching lungs used to breathing right again.
"Verso, you scared us," Esquie chided without bite. "We almost couldn't find you."
"This is why you're supposed to dodge the attacks," Monoco gruffed, though the wetness to his tone betrayed the worry he'd undoubtedly held. Verso blinked his way blearily to look to the Gestral. "… but I'll concede that perhaps I should have been faster."
Verso cleared his throat, tried (and miserably failed) to sit upright in Esquie's hands. "S'okay," he croaked. "No one's fault." His breath came out in pained wheezes, and whatever strength he had was shaking right out of him. Hs limbs slipped between Esquie's oversized fingers, and he couldn't be bothered to bring his exhausted body back together.
"You're so cold, Verso," the big marshmallow remarked, and he felt it as he was lifted closer into his big friend's chest.
Yes, he was. He was soaking wet, bringing a weak hand to at least move his hair out of his eyes before letting it fall back. He was always so damn cold, all the time. Right now it was quite a bit literally, shivers wracking his form with a quiet hiss. "I'll be better once I get to a campfire."
Esquie hummed with that, now cradling Verso into his great big stomach. "I'll carry you until then."
He would have loved nothing more. He wasn't sure his legs were going to support his weight, but he moved to try and sit up again anyway, fighting with the invisible weights that had settled upon him. At least he was moderately successful this time. "I'll be fine."
"No, no. You went for a long swim-swim. It's time to rest now."
Esquie's other, great big hand settled over him like a warm, weighted blanket, and Verso cursed softly as he made a valiant attempt to fight it. With no strength and no coordination, however, his big friend wasn't budging. His chest was still heaving for breath, exhausted and aching, and what little energy he had in his body puttered out in an instant. Verso flopped back against Esquie's palm in defeat, clutching his friend's large fingers uselessly, and only then did he realize they were moving.
"Momo, we should make a tent as well!"
"A tent— I suppose that is true. You keep him warm and I'll make what we need."
"I have one," Verso protested.
"What, that sorry sack of linen with all the holes in it? I told you to get rid of it."
There was no use fighting Monoco on it as his rant continued. He couldn't get a word in even if he had the strength left to do so. His eyes felt too heavy, and Esquie's hands were so damn warm.
He could probably rest for a little bit. His friends would keep him safe.