Neal hissed in a ragged breath; the sound of the air fighting its way into his lungs was enough to make both Peter and Diana wince in sympathy. He was trying to sit up.
"Whoa there, Neal, easy," Diana shot Peter a look. Neal wasn't listening and forced himself up so that he was sitting; he was sitting on the floor of the boat, his back against the edge. He had one leg extended, the other bent at the knee, and his hands were hanging limply at his side. Neal's neck betrayed some of his pain as it was terribly tense. His eyes were alternating between a horrible dullness and an even more horrible fire.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he murmured. Neal's eyes seemed to be burning and were an almost inhuman blue against his pale skin and damp, curly hair.
He glanced over to Peter and then to Diana.
"Jones?"
"He's on the boat with Wilson," Diana answered.
Neal nodded.
Peter and Diana were talking, but Neal was too exhausted to really listen. He took a deep breath- as deep as he dared- and closed his eyes for a moment…
"Neal?"
Neal jerked his head up; his chin had been resting on his chest.
He pried his tired eyes open and looked out; they were now approaching the loading doc.
"How… long…. was…. I out?" Neal was still struggling to catch his breath, and his voice was both breathy and tight.
"About five minutes," Peter said tenderly. "Hey, Neal, I need you to stay awake, okay buddy?" Neal hadn't even realized his head had dropped down again. Peter's hand was holding onto the back of Neal's neck, his eyes imploring Neal's, as Diana was driving the boat.
"'Kay."
Neal hated how weak he sounded, how little control he felt.
Drip. Drip.
It had started to rain. Neal felt a raindrop on his cheek, and he involuntarily tensed.
Neal struggled, though it was futile. He was running out of energy, losing his momentum, and it was hard to work in the dark and against the exhaustion. His lungs were burning, and it was all he could do not to breathe in the murky lake water."Neal?"
Neal struggled against the anklet, but with his body lurking forward, towards the elusive surface, it was hard to bend at the waist to work whatever it was that was stuck. A bit of water crept into his nostrils, and Neal jerked. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't breathe in. He fought his instincts as much as he could.
He thought he heard a voice calling him, but he wasn't certain. He blinked slowly as he could feel himself fading. Peter?
"Neal!"
Neal jerked, not realizing his eyes had closed. He was wheezing now, shaking beneath Peter's fingertips. His eyes were wide, and they darted around nervously. He frantically met Peter's gaze.
"Neal, it's okay. You're okay. I've got you. It's okay," Peter soothed.
Neal felt anything but okay.I'm having a bit of writer's block here, and am looking for someone to help me with this story!
