A drabble based on One-Sentence Stories, chapter 1: Swim
His ears still rang from the explosion. It was a miracle he had gotten them clear of the wreckage.
"Holmes."
The detective remained limp against his shoulder as he fought to keep them both afloat.
"Holmes, you need to wake up."
No answer. His shoulder was all but useless, stiff in all the wrong places. He was holding them up with one arm and his legs, and that only barely.
A piece of wood drifted by, and he grabbed it, using it to keep his friend's head out of the water.
How were they going to get out of this?