It had been a close call this time, Hilary thought, closer than many. She pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders and then sat down on the couch beside Tyson, cup of hot tea clutched in both hands. Tyson hunched lower in his seat, weather because he was embarrassed, ashamed, or still feeling somewhat queasy from the amount of sea water he had swallowed, or some combination of all three, Hilary couldn't tell. She scooted a little closer to him and was glad when he either didn't notice or pretended not to. He had scared her this time.

It wasn't as if this was the first time something like this had happened, and it wasn't as if it was ever really his fault, as he had told her many times before. That didn't make it hurt any less. It didn't take away the paralyzing fear that descended on her when she saw his head disappear beneath the water and not come back up, didn't slow the frantic pounding of her heart as she dove after him once she had been able to make her legs work again.

It certainly didn't stop the tears running down her cheeks as she pulled him, limp, onto the beach and bent over him, her mouth pressed on his, her entire world narrowed to the air in her lungs and in his -

Oh, breathe, Tyson. Please breathe…-

until his body shuddered and he rolled over, coughing and gasping for air. Hilary didn't think anything could ever make that any easier.

Lecturing him wouldn't help. She was still to relieved to be angry at him right now, anyway. And even if she could muster the energy to yell at him, he would just look at her with those melting auburn eyes and say-

"I didn't do it on purpose, you know."

Hilary jumped a little, startled by Tyson's unexpected intrusion on her mental dialogue. He sounded thoroughly unhappy about something, understandable considering that he had nearly drowned not so long ago, but somehow, she didn't think that was what was bothering him. It never had before, at least not that he'd shown.

She glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He sat hunched beside her, holding his own blanket around himself with one hand, his neglected cup of tea with the other. His hair, still wet, looked even darker than usual, and dripped water onto his forehead and nose. She thought he looked particularly vulnerable right now, younger, more like he was when her eyes first fell on him in the class-room.

"I didn't do it on purpose," he said again.

Hilary sighed. "I know you didn't. You never do."

He shifted and the blanket slipped down off of one of his shoulders. He sat his cup on the table before them in order to readjust it. "Are you mad at me?"

Hilary hesitated only a moment before shaking her head. "No, not mad. Not really."

Tyson let out what sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief, and Hilary was almost certain she wasn't imagining it when she thought she felt him scooting closer to her as well.

Hilary took a sip of her tea, not quite sure what to say next and not quite sure if she minded the silence or not. 'Just don't do that to me again,' she thought of saying, but it was a silly, pointless thing to say. As Tyson said, he never did things like this on purpose, and it wasn't even always a result of his doing something stupid or careless. Tyson and trouble just went together, and that was how it had been for as long as Hilary had known him. She would be quite surprised if things changed now. They had had their life-threatening situation for the week, but something else would happen again soon, and Tyson would just have to go and be a hero about it, and Hilary would have to hope she could pull him out.

Breathe, Tyson…

She could feel him watching her, knew he wanted her to say something. Hilary stayed silent, trying to think of something she could say that wouldn't be asking him to make a promise he could never keep. If she didn't speak, he would break the silence soon.

"Hilary…" Sure enough, his gentle prompt came after only a few moments.

She bowed her head, refused to look at him wet and clothed in only a borrowed blanket. "I was so scared," she finally admitted.

When Tyson didn't respond, she wondered if she shouldn't have said anything after all. Then she felt his shoulder brush up against hers. "I wasn't," he said, and she glanced up at him in surprise. He was staring at his lap, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Tyson-"

"I wasn't scared because I knew you'd pull me out."

"But what if I couldn't?"

"Something tells me that you'll always be there for me…"

She glared, scowling. She couldn't sand him being so casual about life. "What if I might not be able to! What are you gonna do then, Tyson? What if I didn't get there in time, or just couldn't- I don't want that, ever, but if-" The tears she felt in her eyes didn't really surprise her. Tyson's fingers touching under her chin gently easing her face upwards did, even more than his shoulder against hers had.

"Please don't cry, Hil."

Hilary shook her head and tried not to, but it didn't do much good, and Tyson's hesitant touch and fond nickname only made the tears want to come more.

"Awe, Hil," he kept his hand on her face, "You saved me this time, right? So, everything's okay, right?"

She nodded, then shook her head, then leaned in closer to him. "But what about next time?"

"Why does there have to be a next time?"

"Knowing you, there always is." She wasn't quite sure which of them had moved her head down to rest on his shoulder, but she didn't mind in the least.

"What if I promised to only go take a dunk when you're right there? Would that help?"

She knew he was teasing her, but she was feeling a bit drowsy and couldn't be bothered with being annoyed with him. "Mmm, a little, but what about all the times you're not meaning to go swimming at all but end up in the water anyway?"

"Well, since you always follow me around everywhere, all the time, I don't really see what difference it makes."

She should smack him for that, Hilary thought, she really should. But he was so comfortable to lean against, she had never noticed how comfortable before, and smacking him would take so much effort. So "I suppose I'll just keep doing that, then," was all she quipped as she let her eyes drift close. It was so warm and nice, pushed up against him like this.

She felt the weight of his head as it came to rest on top of hers. "So, you'll be around forever…" he whispered into her still damp hair.

"Only until you are hopeless without me," she responded sleepily, not quite registering the exact words, but knowing that she agreed with them, anyway. "…which could be forever…"

"Forever sounds good…" he murmured, and then, so softly that she didn't hear it but only felt it as a brush of air against her scalp, "Thank you." And somehow, she knew that he had closed his eyes as well.

Hilary let herself relax further against him. For now, he was safe. This time, she had pulled him out in time. Next time would come, maybe, but dreading it now would not help then. For now, Tyson was warm and solid beside her, if still a little wet. For now, they were together and out of danger, and, for now, that was enough.

The last thing Hilary was aware of before she drifted fully off to sleep was the steady rise and fall of Tyson's chest beneath her cheek and the gentle puff of air by her ear that accompanied it, and then she let herself be lulled into gentle dreams by his breath.