DOOM SAGA I - I'll be home tomorrow

Below 60°

The darkness was surreal as he woke, enough to make him feel for whether his eyes were actually open. They were, and he felt something else, a body, her body, pressed to his side as cold stone caged him from the other. The sarcophagus. Why were they inside again? Had he just dreamt everything? The heat of their bodies was radiating in the small room but the stone was close to freezing. Turning to his side, capturing the measurements of the space he tried to wake her, shaking her but all he heard was a weak mumble and her flat breath.
"Air..."
It was stale and humid. How long had they been inside? Were they running out of oxygen?
He moved again, pulling her on top so he had room to lift the top off. It was way heavier than he remembered, so much that he needed all of his strength. As he thought he wasn't strong enough, he kept pushing, until he felt an ice-cold trickle underneath his back. He shivered from the unexpected feeling, stopping, when he realised there was water coming through the tiny crack he had managed. He still saw nothing as he slung his arm around her to secure her, his other hand fumbled along the ridges to feel for leaks. They were underwater. But how deep?
The cold and salty puddle in his back told him it was seawater, and the fact that the pressure was so strong even he could barely fight it meant they were deep. The cold assured that. He calmed himself and began to hold his breath, making sure he wasn't wasting their precious air. How did they get here? Was it just a dream? An illusion? But everything felt real. She felt real. Even her scent that filled the space, sweet skin and some bitter sweat. He couldn't describe it better if anyone ever asked him. But he needed to focus.
If they were at a maximum of 600 feet down, they could make it to the top. He would lend her some air on the way, and she wouldn't even need to move. They would need to go slow to minimize the deep-sea sickness, he would have to make sure she didn't swallow any water, and she would also probably faint on the way up. But they could make it.
If they were even further down like he expected... The pressure on the top was stronger than he could imagine, stronger than what he ever had experienced on earth's oceans as far as he had gone. If not the absence of air or the cold or the diver's sickness, then the pressure could kill her in a matter of seconds. Her lung and every space filled with air would be crushed, the gasses in her bloodstream be compromised. He could make it. But not her. There was no way. Suddenly she struggled in his hold, kicking and punching, hitting her head and limbs on the rough stone.
"Let me out! LET ME OUT!", she screamed and fought against him. He tried to hold her down, but she continuously slipped from his grasp as he couldn't see anything, her body flailing and he caught some punches right to his face. In the next moment, she went limp. She gasped for breath, only inhaling but no longer exhaling. She was suffocating already. He shook her as he felt panic rise but she did not react. The now lifeless little girl seemed to press even harder on his chest as the water surrounding them. He was beginning to hyperventilate as well, the thought of letting her die without even trying let adrenaline rush head to toe. He took some deep breaths, not feeling the absence of anything usable in it, and braced his arms and legs against the top. With a deep growl, he pushed and the top moved, slid to the side before the freezing water burst in. He grabbed her with one arm, closing her mouth and nose with his hand, before he shoved it off completely, now easier as the water was equalizing the pressure already. He had to fight the stream for a moment but the bubble they were in was gone immediately, and he pushed off the flooring to propel them upwards. It was pitch black. Not even illuminating animals were visible, and he hoped they wouldn't bump headfirst into an overhang or something. With all his vigour he paddled, the force hurting even his body, and he felt tremendous pain growing as seconds passed. He swam as quickly as possible, and after a minute there was still no light in the distance. He kept counting in his head. 120 seconds. Nothing. 180 seconds. Nothing. If there wouldn't be something visible soon, he knew it would all be in vain. He gave her what he had left in his lungs, paddling on as fast as he could. 300 seconds. He was still pushing forward, his muscles burned in a reminiscent fire but the frigid cold of the darkness fought back. He had no idea how fast he was, as fast as he could anyway. He knew the risk, but when there was still not the slightest shimmer of light in the distance and he could still feel dozens of bar pressure on his body he had to calm his own mind. How much further? 480 seconds. Her brain would now get damaged -- if she was even alive by now. The water seemed to become warmer here. The pressure was lifting noticeably now. But also did he feel creatures rush past with their fins nudging his legs. 540 seconds. Cold mixed suddenly, and the water started to cool down drastically again. 560 seconds. Light? Was that truly light? He thought about slowing for a moment, but there was no reason to. The shadows that circled him became clearer as he rose. She was unconscious and without oxygen for over 10 minutes now. If she would ever wake up again... He pushed through the last hundred metres and broke through the surface into the blinding light of the sun. But instead of warmth, the cold bit his skin mercilessly. His breath made little clouds as he pulled her head close to his, and just a few seconds later when his eyes had adapted to the light again he saw blood pour from her mouth and nose, and as he looked closer from her ears as well. Her half-opened eyes stared into a void beyond the deep blue sky.
"Fuck!", he growled desperately. Around them was nothing. In the distance, he saw an outline against the horizon only to figure it was a bulk of ice. He turned around, over and over to figure out where they were, but the blank sky and the same horizon in every direction gave no hints.
"FUCK!", he growled even louder. He pulled her numb, floating body to his, cradling her head and rubbing his burning face into her icy and pale as they drifted in endless waters. He sobbed. She was dead, and he could do nothing about it. Why was he so strong and fast and unbreakable if it didn't help anyone but himself. Why couldn't he give some of it to others? To everybody who needed it, or when they needed it? He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his dying hope of hearing a puls, of feeling a breath, as he cried. She felt so familiar, her size, her little weight, her flimsy arms and legs that hung lifeless. It felt like she was part of him, and he had lost it forever.
He let out a long scream of desperation, of sorrow and anger. He was all by himself again. He drifted on for a while, holding onto the body that was becoming stiffer as the time went on. It didn't matter that his hair and skin began to freeze over, he could not feel it. It didn't matter that the sun began to wander towards the horizon which did not change a bit. Nothing was there for him to aim at. Nowhere to take a break. Nowhere to let her rest forever. He would not let go, let her sink into the darkness below, be ripped by hungry jaws. Would it even matter if he never returned? There was nobody waiting for him anyway. Nobody who actually needed him. Nobody who truly cared about him. He closed his eyes as the sun touched the water, bright yellow and deep red ignited the sky. He felt tired like he never had before. Tired in a way that was different.
He took a deep breath and sighed. His body began to feel heavier and heavier, until he felt something below his side, under his head. He felt something warm in his hand, pressed a little tighter, felt the sweat in his palm and opened his eyes. The cold was still gripping him from inside as he saw the dim-lit bed before him, a warm hill beside him. His heartbeat quickened even more and he carefully pulled his hand back and crawled above her. Trembling fingers hovered over her sleeping face as she lay like starfish, each limb poking out of the blankets to one of the sides, a careful balance between warm and chilled. He watched her keenly, looking for her soft breath and the twitch of her eyes. His body began to shake, fighting off the pain and cold and wetness that had managed to come through to reality. He gnashed his teeth and had to hold his breath to not whine loudly in relief. He snuck away into the bathroom, closing the door quietly not to wake her. He paced around a couple of times, burning away the fear and adrenaline that still pumped in his veins. He growled and groaned when he suppressed anger and hurt. Just a dream, he kept telling himself, Just a dream.
He leaned onto the counter and washed his face with hot water, washing off the feeling of ice, and maybe even hiding his tears. Gradually he calmed, looking at the stream of water vanish in the drain. A sudden rustle made him look up again. Io was standing at the door and looked at him. He dried his face with a towel and walked to the exit, swallowing the lump in his throat. She did not move away, and her thinking stare made him uncomfortable.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded reserved.
"A dream?"
His jaw muscles worked before he nodded again.
"Hm.", she uttered in a neutral tone. But after a minute she smiled kindly.
"Tea?", she asked.
"And p-pastry?", she said after a pause. Her sweetness made him smile too and he nodded once before he followed her back to the seating area. She sat on the floor in front of the fire, the small blanket she held around her floated with her movement. He felt the unfamiliar exhaustion but did everything to not let her notice something was wrong. Still, she kept eying him the rest of the day, and he wondered if it was that obvious to her. She wrote in her notebook for some time, scribbling lost in thought. She didn't say a lot herself, and somehow they spend their evening in silence, both keeping to themselves. He even waited for her to fall asleep before he lay down as well, but he did not sleep that night.
They had already spent weeks together, side by side day and night. Yet he felt that they were still living in separate worlds, since she was so different from anything here. Like a reminder of what once was real to him. What once was important to him.
And maybe, just maybe, what he wanted hereafter.