They all watched as the Messerschmitt, consumed with fire, spiraled towards the ocean. It hit the water with an ear-shattering crash, smashing though the choppy dark surface.

They waited. Namor hovered out of range of the other planes. Toro disentangled himself from the Junker he had just disabled. Bucky tightened his grip on the controls of the airship. Captain America stared down the sight of the machine gun he was firing out of the door of the ship.

One… Two… Three… Four…

The Human Torch didn't surface.

"Pappy!" Toro screamed. He started to dive towards the spot where the plane had hit, then stopped. The boy wavered, desperate to follow after Jim, but knowing he would be useless the second he touched the water. Far off, Namor could hear the rat-a-tat of Cap's gunfire, warding off the fighters.

Namor didn't need to think before acting. He hurtled towards the downed plane, straightening his body to slip though the water like a knife. His speed shot up as soon as he was underwater. The ocean was a horror show of twisted metal. His keen eyes searched through the roiling blue, until he caught sight of his target.

He swam around the slowly sinking Messerschmitt, until he saw a flash of red. As he approached, he could see Jim's leg crushed by a collapsed part of the engine. He struggled weakly, quickly losing strength as the plane sank deeper and deeper into the black. His yellow hair floated around his sharply-featured face. His eyes widened as he saw Namor, bubbles escaping the corners of his mouth.

Namor nodded at him, then went to the metal curled around the android's shin. The water around the plane was hot. His fingers were seared as he grabbed the engine. He growled, pulled, and managed to make enough space for Jim to pull free. His leg was mangled. Namor knew the artificial flesh would begin repairing itself soon, but he wasn't going to be in swimming condition any time soon. He wrapped an arm around Jim's shoulder, looked up at the surface, and started kicking.

After a few seconds, he broke into the open air. Jim coughed and gasped. Namor locked eyes on the dark outline of the beach, nearly a mile away. He moved so that Jim was laying across his back, arms around his neck. "Hold on," he growled, then started towards the shore.

His arms were limp, and Namor wasn't sure whether or not the android had passed out. He gritted his teeth and tried to increase his speed, wishing he could trade in his two legs for a fin or something that wasn't so damn slow!

Finally, his feet touched the ground. He moved Jim off of his back and dragged him up the beach, until he was sure there was no chance of the water reaching them, then laid him down in the cold rocky sand.

Jim coughed and spluttered. He turned his head and spat out a mouthful of seawater. Then, he pushed damp hair off of his face and squinted up at the Atlantean.

"Namor…?" he muttered.

"Nice trick there, firebug," Namor snapped. "Next time don't stick around to gloat over your handiwork." He glanced up at the firefight still raging in the skies above them. Cap, Bucky, and Toro seemed to be doing a good job at keeping the Jerries busy for the moment, but he and Jim would be sitting ducks the moment they were spotted. "Think you can get out of here?"

Jim's eyes narrowed in concentration. Namor felt heat radiating from the artificial body beside him, and even saw a few wisps of smoke here and there. Then, Jim's concentration broke with a ragged exhale.

He shook his head. "Can't. Still too waterlogged."

Namor gritted his teeth. He knew that the others needed him in the air. He knew that every second he waited here made more of a chance that the Nazi scum would be able to slip away. But, he couldn't just leave his teammate alone, exposed, surrounded by the element that left him weak and useless as a child.

Jim wouldn't leave him high and dry in a desert, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how tactically advisable it was. By the same token, Namor couldn't leave Jim stuck wet as a drowned cat with a target painted across his chest.

All of that flitted idly through his mind in the space of a second. His decision was already made.

"Looks like we need to get you dried off, then."

Jim gave him a weak smirk. "You got a blow dryer tucked into those trunks, water rat?"

Namor ignored him. "Put your arms around my neck." He almost thought that he could hear the dozen wiseacre responses running through the biomechanical brain, but Jim only mutely acquiesced. "Don't let go," he ordered ear as he clasped his arms tightly around Jim's back. He manuevered onto the balls of his feet, braced himself, and then launched them both into the air.

He kept low to the trees, building up speed until he would have probably killed any of the others, any of the humans. He felt Jim's hair buffeting against his cheek, the rasp of the android's breath in his ear, his fingers digging into the skin of his back.

Namor wasn't sure how long it had been, when Jim spoke in a heavy whisper he thought he shouldn't have been able to hear at this speed. "Okay. Let me go."

For a moment, there was nothing Namor wanted to do less. There was an irrational part of his brain that knew that if he let go the android was going to go plummeting to the ground and that would be it. Just like a human.

He let go.

Jim fell about two meters, then let out a wild, ecstatic shout, "Flame on!" and burst into a flash of red and yellow. He turned on a dime and started back towards the battle, Namor following close behind. Without a word or a look, they both understood that this was a race. Of course it was.

The German unit was badly battered. They seemed to be trying to regroup, escape the Invaders' trap and find another opening to attack the Allied camp. Not going to happen now.

Out of the corner of his eye, Namor saw Jim split off to join Toro in taking down a Junker.

Namor decided he wasn't going to let himself get confused again about letting Jim go, because he wasn't going to go in after him again.

The next time the Torch fell, the Sub-Mariner was going to catch him.