CELLS A2 AND A3

"Come on, grim, geeeet up."

"… W-water…"

"I know, I know, I'll get you some water."

"He-he's going to… ss-s-shut off our w-w-"

"That doesn't mean you have to drink from the toilet yet, right?" Durango watched Tristan crawl backwards, away from the bathroom. "Look, it's still on." He hesitated, afraid that he was wrong, but then gave the shower handle a firm turn. Inside of the walls, pipes creaked and moaned but cold water came out and fell on both of them. "See?"

Tristan stopped moving away, but still trembled. He was crying.

"Now, next time you want water, just ask. All you have to do is ask. No big deal."

Durango picked him up and carried him back to his bed.

"You can't get out of bed yet, grim." He put him down gently, cradling his neck and easing his head back. "Heal first. I'm sure we have enough time left to do that."

Tristan appeared to understand, nodding feverishly and covering his eyes with his hands. He tossed and turned and moaned Holly's name and a name no one recognized. Durango left his side to tend to what was left of the others.

It was the lichen that made the floor of the lake look like the night sky; shining blue spotlights glittering in the soft waves. Jenn could have stayed down there forever. There was a reason that she took an entire day to catch a dozen fish.

It kept running through Shirk's mind, playing over and over again. Traitor. Day in and day out. Traitor. He narrowed down his choices. It wasn't long before he found an answer that suited him.

Like she did most nights, Jenn went to the lake.

Shirk was through fucking around. He didn't wait for an excuse to attack. He didn't even start off with threats. His palms opened up and he went right for the jugular.

There was order here.

Bowman was only barely starving, alert enough to avoid three of Shirk's claws. The thumb and index fingers made contact and opened the skin like a scarlet flower. His hair had shielded his carotid artery but Shirk still came away with blood.

It happened, but slow. Jenn swimming to the center of the lake. Jenn dipping beneath the surface. Jenn being enveloped by-

A spray of Shirk's blood as Bowman retaliated, snarling a wild punch across the raccoon's nose. Durango was watching from the corner, seemingly unconnected, but concerned, panic rising slow.

-the dark water as she kicked, deeper and deeper, her vision obscured by the goggles she wore. The pressure getting stronger and stronger.

Tristan would have stopped it, if he could. If he wanted to. That left Simon with the responsibility, but he had problems of his own.

She swam all the way down, down to where the world forgot about her. Her ears closed as her fingers sank into the soil. She had two minutes.

Maybe Tristan was hoping to fall asleep and never wake up again. If Holly could do it, why couldn't he.

Jenn pushed all the air out of her lungs and watched the bubbles float to the top. It was reassuring. Out of all the ways she could die, drowning was what she feared the most. She had nightmares of getting lost in the abyss, trying to follow the bubbles up to the surface but they always seemed to float in front of her, suspended.

Left alone because he couldn't follow her.

Those dreams were so real. She felt the chill of the water, and the way her lungs ignited and her legs kicked tiredly for air she would never reach. She still had them, in here…

Bowman made a smart move, going for Shirk's eyes. He grabbed on to the head, and while the raccoon clawed and scratched into his chest, Bowman extended the index claw on his other hand and calmly jammed it into the right eye, as deep as he could go.

Jenn grew tired of waking up in the middle of the night, scared of her own stupid imagination. Perhaps Snively was right. Saturation was the only cure. In the next dream, she took control, stopped struggling and breathed in, letting water fill her lungs. Accepted it. It didn't hurt so bad after all.

Shirk screamed and twisted, Bowman's finger stuck to his skull and the claw scraping the inside of the socket. Gritting his teeth, foam dripping down his neck, Shirk uppercut four claws as hard as he could into Bowman's chin.

It was a shame that dying wasn't as easy as her dreams.

Sabrina and Durango managed to pry them apart. All four of them fell to the floor. Still sitting on his bed, Simon's neck expanded like a balloon. It grew, passing his ears before he noticed it himself, his fur disconnecting from his skin. He tried to speak. The skin got thinner and thinner. Jenn screamed and didn't stop.

The lake's boundaries stretched beyond the edge of the forest. Those in Knothole didn't venture very far, afraid of what they might find.

Shirk held his gushing eye, laughing hysterically. Sabrina weakly pressed her palms against the holes in Bowman's neck as he struggled towards the giggling raccoon. Light passed through Simon's neck.

So many mysteries on Mobius. Jenn swore that if the war ever ended, she would learn as much as she could about her planet.

Sabrina heard a faint pop and something hot and wet sprayed across her back. She let go of Bowman and he slithered back to Shirk. He pushed aside Durango and brought his arm back, closing his fingers into a fist. Shirk laughed and laughed and laughed-

Her two minutes were up, but she stayed at the bottom, feeling that escalating burn start from her stomach and move up to her lungs. The blue stars burned brighter.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Shirk's head split open from Bowman's blow, cutting off the laughter. Simon was hanging off of one side of his bed, his head connected to his body only by his spine, his skin now a membrane collecting around his jaws. She saw it repeated over and over again in the mirrors, on constant playback. She couldn't breathe. It hurt. It burned. The surface was never so far away.