Hello! Part of the explanation for why this is back is in the note before Grief. The other part of the explanation is that I'm gonna be rewriting this. For the most part, what I'd already had uploaded will remain the same. I just finished an outline for this (go me, I never do that) but I'm not gonna be uploading more until 1) people follow/favorite/review, which tells me you actually want to read it (because there's no sense in uploading it if you don't, you know :p) and 2) I've completely finished it. I don't want to have to keep going back and editing uploaded chapters because I messed up. However, I'm uploading this first chapter now because this hasn't changed.
I hope you'll all like where I take this story. It's quite plot twisty. I know I would've loved to see the show goes this direction instead of where it went. (RIP Allison.)
Follow, favorite, review, enjoy! If you're coming back to this story, thanks and welcome back!
MEMORY.
We are all scared in this moment. Gripping the edges of the bathtub, shivering so hard it's like we have no control over our bodies – we are all scared. Scott and Allison, the two toughest people I've ever met, are absolutely terrified. I can just barely feel Lydia's hands on my shoulders, but no doubt I feel the weight of my dad's badge in my hand. The sharp points prick my skin just a little bit – not enough to be painful – but I squeeze it as hard as I can to feel something besides the mind-numbing cold of the ice water, and to remind myself why I'm doing this.
I can't live without my dad, Scott can't live without his mom, and we're all going to die if we lose Allison's dad, the man who has somehow become one of our greatest allies and fiercest protectors. We're scared out of our minds, but we don't have a choice.
The three of us share a look, and we all know what it means. Lydia squeezes my shoulders and digs her nails into my skin, and I know what that means as well.
Deaton says something I don't understand, but my body follows the command anyway. I take in as deep a breath as I possibly can, and for a second I relish in the fact that in spite of my anxiety I feel like I've actually taken a full breath.
The moment is over in a second, and the breath is just as quickly snatched from my lungs as I sink down into freezing death, half voluntarily, half pushed by Lydia. I know she's frightened, too, and so are Isaac and Deaton. I want to squeeze her hand or touch her arm to somehow to let her know that it's okay. It's okay because it's peaceful… It's not like straight drowning. The sub-zero temperature kills us long before the lack of oxygen does.