Task 2 - When the Tears Are Gone (CC)

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A/N: Pretty much the same as the first half of the previous version. This is far shorter, and the one I ultimately went with. I'm sure I can fit the rest in next task...maybe. I'm still going to keep the other one up, since I was pretty proud of it.

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The world came crashing back in a plethora of words working their way through Corradhin's muddled brain. Awake, he thought, bed? No. I never sleep in beds. He let himself stretch against the linen layers, yawning, and a sickly sweet smell like sleep gas gave him an incoming sense of nausea. Groaning, he clutched his stomach, fingers brushing something soft. For a moment, he ran his fingers over the smooth object. A flower? The thing let out a hiss, like steam. The Games. 

He shot up, banging his forehead on some invisible force in the process. His head fell back on the bed as he groped ground zero, groaning. Who the hell put a wall there? His fingers knocked against something wrapped around his head, like a band of sorts. And then, as his eyes settled on the random wall, an uncontrollable tremor overtook him, a tremble. He would recognize that calm rush over the glass encasement any day. I'm confined. Underwater. And it's so fucking dark. 

Automatically, he returned to the band on his head. He flicked a switch near the front, but nothing happened. An exasperated sigh escaped him. What use was a headlamp without a bulb? Still, he let it remain. Carefully, he eased himself up, pressing his palms against the glass. It creaked as he pushed, and he ran his hands along it, up, around. He felt a crack where he must've hit his head. If this breaks....

A shatter came from his left somewhere and he flinched. Then another, and another. But no cannons went off. Then, the realization dawned on him, and he felt for the crack again. He tapped the glass, and heard a tiny crack. The glass spider-webbed in front of him. Beads of water took advantage, collecting in streams and plopping on his forehead. For a moment, he faltered. I don't want to drown. He couldn't bring himself to tap the glass again.

And then, an image of his "best friend" flashed through his mind, dashing away the darkness for just a moment. Beckett's sweet smile, amber eyes. A sense of determination filled Corradhin's chest, and he lay on his back, feet pressed to the glass. He pulled one foot back. I can't forget why I did this.

His foot went flying into the glass, and it exploded in shards and monstrous water coming to consume him. Corradhin's body was thrown from the bed, tossed back and forth from a current. He tried flailing his arms and legs, attempts at changing course, but the current was too strong. He was a puppet in this moment. No, no, what if it's taking me further down? What if I drown? Fuck, no!

His back slammed against a jagged surface, like a wall of rock, and pain erupted on his shoulder blades and spine. In a moment of sheer stupidity, he opened his mouth as the breath was knocked out of him.

Frantic thrashes for air, gags to keep away water that only laughed at his attempts, filling him. I'm dying, I'm drowning. His arms were splayed along the wall, and he dug his nails into the rock. He dragged his body along, straining to get out of the current. If he could just do that much, he could find a way. I will find a way. I will.

Finally, the pressure let up on him, and he darted up, weakly. Then, like a miraculous gift, water was dispelled from his lungs in a fit of violent coughing as he desperately sucked in air. For several minutes he stay there, clutching at the jagged walls around him. He was up to his sternum in water, floating there, head nearly touching the ceiling. He basically waited in a giant overturned bowl.

I almost died. He formed a fist, licking his lips, relieved. I just escaped death. Proud, Beck?

Corradhin's calm was interrupted by a break in the water, a head surfacing and gasping. Instinctually, he swam at her, slamming the girl against the wall. His eyes had adjusted slightly to the darkness, and he identified the girl as Electra.

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