Tamquam Alter Idem

Love Will Tear Us Apart

Adam Parrish couldn't swim. His parents had never taught him, and he'd never bothered to teach himself. He didn't have time to go swimming for fun, anyway. So it honestly hadn't felt like a necessity to learn yet. Adam Parrish didn't often do things if they weren't necessary.

That was his first regret when his body broke the surface of the ice-cold water that laid in Cabeswater. His second regret was never telling Zachariah how he thought he felt. His third regret was not eating that one slice of pizza that Gansey had offered him, because it didn't matter now, anyway. He was sinking and there was nothing he could do.

His limbs were moving sluggishly through the water, his body weighed down by the clothes he wore. He tried to pull himself up as best as he could, because giving up was not something he did. And yet, determined as he was, and always had been, he strayed further and further from the light of the sun shining down on the lake he had fallen in. He wasn't sure if it was getting darker because he'd nearly reached the bottom or because he was losing consciousness.

Adam thought he could hear distant shouting of his name, over and over again, but the water combined with his deaf ear distorted sounds until they were unrecognisable. He should have felt scared, with death close enough to greet him, but he felt oddly calm. The dark water was rising from the deep and carrying him down to a more peaceful place.

His eyes slid shut just as two strong arms wrapped around his body.

He woke up to snow and dead leaves beneath his fingertips and his lungs filled with water.

"Parrish."

Adam couldn't seem to open his eyes.

"Parrish, come on!"

Two hands were pressing harshly down on his chest. Another set of hands were closing his nose and opening his mouth.

He felt soft lips on his own, forcing air into his lungs.

"Adam!"

Water lurched out of him, nearly choking him in the process. He sluggishly rolled over, then coughed and spit up water until his throat was raw and he couldn't see anything through the tears blurring his eyes.

There was a small hand pounding between his shoulder blades with just the right amount of force.

With shaking hands, Adam wiped the tears away, looking right into the worried faces of his friends surrounding him. Dorian was crouched in the snow next to him, tears rolling down his cheeks. Gansey was crouched down in front of him with a deep frown etched into his forehead, his thumb pressed pensively into his lower lip.

Zachariah was standing a bit further away, but his tan skin was a few shades paler than Adam thought it should be. His chest was heaving and his clothes were drenched, hanging limply off his muscled figure. He was chewing on a rainbow coloured bracelet Adam had made and given him the past June, a nervous habit he would probably never unlearn.

Adam vaguely wondered which one of them had given him the mouth to mouth.

"You scared us," Gansey said, unnecessarily.

Adam touched his bespectacled friend's shoulder briefly to let him know that everything was okay. He was too afraid his voice would betray him or, given how his throat felt, not work at all.

Gansey didn't look convinced, but he knew better than to argue with Adam. He just pulled Adam into a one-sided hug that Adam returned, then stood up.

"We need to get him somewhere warm," Gansey said, his presidential voice clear and calm. "He's shaking like a leaf."

"He nearly drowned himself in a half-frozen lake. No shit, he's shaking," Zachariah finally spoke up.

Adam didn't know whether his heartbeat spiked from Zachariah moving closer to him and crouching in front of him until they were eye-level, or from the reality that he had almost died setting in. Their eyes locked for a moment, coffee brown meeting sky blue. Then Zachariah reached for the leather jacket that he had probably thrown off before jumping into the lake after Adam. He then gently wrapped it around Adam's shivering body. It smelled like Zachariah, all leather and foreign spices and expensive perfume. Adam burrowed himself in it, seeking the more of the warmth it provided.