Anon said: Hey, would you want to write a water-themed clive story of any sorts?

Anon also said: Or a drowning clive for angstTM

Ack I'll have to get gud writing Clive, maybe I'll rewatch some of Unwound Future's cutscenes to get myself in Clive Writing ZoneTM

I think maybe I'll set this before Dimitri found him lol.

Side note that I don't know much of England's geography soooooo some info may be incorrect! Just going off what I know (Also yeah warning for suicide attempt!!!!!)

Living

Clive wrang his hands together as he stared at the water of the Thames river. It had been about a year since the explosion taht took his parent's lives, and frankly he couldn't have been more gloomier in his life.

He wished that someone were here to be the voice of reason, to give him a solid reason why he needed to live instead of the empty words the therapist gave him. As he looked down at the murky water, something he had been desperately trying to push into the back of his mind resurfaced.

He could jump. That was always an option.

Frankly, he had been thinking about this moment for a while now, ending his life in this pitiful world. He just didn't know which way to go.

And now the answer was staring him in the face. He climbed the small fence separating him from the edge of the bridge, and looked around at the people that could see him.

He saw that no one was paying attention. He closed his eyes, and felt himself falling as someone shouted at him.

Shit. Someone saw him.

He fell into the water with a small splash, and the Thames seemed to welcome him in, swallowing him in a soft, cool blanket. He was facing the surface, and he could see the faint outline of a person… why was their torso so big?

Suddenly, the image of the man who kept him from running into the burning apartments surfaced in his mind. Why, he wasn't sure. He saw the grief etched into the man's face as he tried to calm the younger version of him down, kneeling down to look Clive in the eyes, his top hat large on his head, in contrast to the red vest on top of a white button down shirt.

He had lost someone in the explosion, the blaze, as well. And yet… he didn't run into the throng of people, past the firemen, the police, into the crumbling building. Why? Wouldn't he have wanted to see if they were okay, if they were alive? Why help a crying ten year old boy?

What if he had wanted to stay alive for them?

Clive let out a little gasp at that, the water flowing into him as the bubbles of air left his mouth. He was freezing, his limbs moving sluggishly as he tried to move, the clarity in his mind fading to a fuzzy warmth as he began to suffocate. His vision went dark around the edges, and sleep was the best thing Clive could think of.

He closed his eyes as he heard a splash above him.

Layton's mind whirled as he looked over the bridge and into the Thames. Did he just see someone…? It wasn't uncommon for people to jump into the Thames, but he never thought he'd see one personally. He called someone over as he yanked off his hat and jacket. He didn't wait for them to ask what was going on as he jumped over the barricade.

"Call the police. Someone's jumped." And he dove into the water, the temperature shocking him into a sort of clarity. His eyes searched the murky water for any sort of the boy. He'd seen where he had entered, but that are may be incorrect now, the water can push people from where they had been just moments before.

He looked around before spotting rather large bubbles ahead of him, almost reaching the top of the river just as he had caught them. He kicked his legs, pushing himself through the water. He caught sight of the boy just as he began to run out of oxygen, his lungs screaming at him. He wrapped an arm around the boy's frame, then kicked off the river floor as he tried to reach the surface.

He gasped as he breached the surface of the water, treading the water as he caught his breath. Then he swam to the edge of the Thames, dragging the boy with him. He was startled by how he recognized this child, but pushed it away when he realized that he wasn't breathing. He quickly placed his lips over the boy's, and gave a deep puff. He pulled back and started pumping his chest, the boy's head jerking with the force. He did it again. Breath. Pump. Breath. Pump.

Clive gasped as he shot up, coughing out water from his mouth. He looked around blearily as he struggled to catch his breath. Layton looked down in relief.

"You're awake," he said. "Don't worry, help is on the way." He said this as Clive's eyes slipped back shut.

Layton leaned back as people began to crowd around them. He was given a jacket as he started to shiver, the sounds of sirens reaching his ears. He felt relief spreading through his body.

He had managed to save him.