This was an idea that I suddenly got last night, on the verge between sleep and reality. It may not turn out the way I thought it would, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Please R&R. Flames are fine as long as they're signed. I don't take opinions if you aren't brave enough to stand behind them.

Spoilers: Retribution

Disclaimer: I don't own Mr. Bush, or Mr. Hornblower, however much I wish I did, they own themselves.

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Wandering Thoughts



"Horatio!!" I screamed, and then the water collapsed around me, and I clamped my jaw tight around the air I had left. The water roared in my ears as I struggled vainly to release myself from the anchor, my mind reeling and screaming at the same time.

Suddenly, the roar of the sea was gone. I was at the bottom, and I could hear voices . . .

"Mr. Bush!!"

"Mr. Hornblower will save him, I know he will."

"Come on Horatio, you have to jump. You have to save him."

They were all jumbled together, and I could hardly make sense of any of it. What was I hearing? The ropes were tight against my arms, and I struggled desperately to free myself.

"- - jump in, he might be at the bottom, and I might not be able to free him quickly enough. But if I don't . . ."

There was a sudden splash above me, but I already knew what it was. As if on queue, my struggles became even more frantic, and I could hear myself now.

"I have to get out. I have to get out. I have to get out."

"I'll get you out William, don't worry. Just don't panic. Please, god, don't panic."

I knew it was Horatio, but he was only a foot away now, and there was no way he could have spoken . . .

His hands were on the ropes suddenly, as he joined my struggle.

"Come on, Mr. Bush . . . If only he held his arm out, we might be able to shake the rope loose . . ."

My eyes widened, but I complied, throwing my arm out. My lungs were starting to burn.

"We're not going to make it . . . We're not going to make it . . ."

"We have to make it."

Suddenly my arm was free, and I kicked off from the anchor hard, pushing myself desperately towards the gleam of light at the surface.

My lungs were on fire, and the fire was spreading to my limbs. My muscles screamed against the use, the screams matching those of my own mind. The light started to darken, my vision slowly being taken by darkness.

And then I broke the air, and my lungs were suddenly filled with sweet, fresh air. I collapsed into the rowboat, sucking the sweet substance into my lungs with deep breaths.

Mr. Hornblower lay in the boat beside me, and he started to laugh, a sound I had thought I would never hear again.