But Hi Yeah :] The Vibe I Went With Here Was Anatoly Getting Snagged By A Water Monster And Dragged Under N Jamie Saving His Ass BKHBHK - Tumblr Posts

❝ the more you freak out, the faster you’re going to bleed. just take it easy. ❞ / anatoly :]

Anatoly could hardly hear Jamie over the blood rushing in his ears.

Or maybe that was the pond water keeping pressure pinned inside the delicate inner-workings of the exposed organ. there was watery plant-life clinging to his limbs. cold and wet as his clothing hung and stuck to him like a grotesque mangled scarecrow. his own hands dark with blood and mud and the green syrupy chlorophyll of the plant-life he’d inadvertently dredged up in his struggle. His lungs heaved and bloated their veins like inflated wild streamers in his chest, pained like a lightning strike, either trying to gouge out the water from each of its tiny pockets, or shuddering a terrible frozen shaking throughout him; body heat as a distant memory. 

He would’ve been terrified of suffering from a heart-attack if not for the fact he could barely find the mental distinction between the sections of his chest. ribs and stomach and collarbone fusing in his clouded nerves, his more delicate senses useless against the intensity of his panic. a drowned rabbit’s heart racing when the crane dives into the lake reeds, not expecting it to wriggle its way out of its talons, not expecting the canine to hound in after the both of them, wolfish and smart and vengeful, not expecting both to emerge on the bank; and it not to. 

Anatoly could already only barely remember. A pounding dream of water and color and movement, the muffled sound of gunfire, the tangling of many limbs, the scramble for the surface and the blood that bloomed around him.

His own blood, he knows a breath after he can breathe at all, his own blood.

Teeth marks stretch and mar the skin of his right shoulder down his arm to the joint, like a beast not biting but dragging as though trying to pull the flesh with it, interrupted only by the clean ( or cleaner ) tunnel line of a grazed bullet; likely going for the head. Cloth flaps uselessly in his shivering, or slaps in on itself, the fibers clinging to each-other, greatly like how Anatoly now does to Jamie. Unintentional. His arm is almost black with his blood. ( you think his other hand might be locked into it’s grip on your coat, too cold to move, the joints disobedient and him, unaware, but desperate. perhaps not for you, but for safety, for survival. )

The words take root a 10~20 seconds past their origin date, and his wide dark eyes glance up at Jamie, looking shallow, and dazed, and already dead.

( at least when he starved it was a quiet shutdown. at least when he starved it was easier to look at. at least when he starved, by the time you’d find him, there was nothing to left talk to. )

He isn’t, his body screams even if his mind hasn’t quite caught up yet, he isn’t he isn’t he isn’t he isn’t he-

The first sound that emerges from his throat is entirely incoherent, the attempt of language lost entirely on waterlogged vocal chords and shivering that goes down his throat & chokes him. His second attempt is better, a word — or more accurately approximated sound — that Anatoly taught to mean something like ‘okay’ where he came from. A mother tongue that comes more naturally than English in his distant but confused state. he stops squirming as much, at least for a minute or two, before he starts again like a compulsive writhe, before stopping again. he murmurs something in that same language as he tugs back at the hand locked to Jamie’s coat before seeming to realize what had happened, and changing to the other hand, attempts to roll up the soaked sleeve of its own wounded arm overtop the gashes that may or may not have been wrapped already by the time of his realization. 

Had it been 10 minutes since he was pulled from the water, or 20?

It wasn’t as though he had a watch, either way…