Work Text:
Jack tries to kick his legs, but the chains are too heavy. The iron shackles pull him down, deeper and deeper under water. His arms flail. His lungs are burning. He won't last long like this.
"Don't wander off," the Doctor said. In hindsight, he should have listened. Or at least not let himself be dragged into a card game with the local mob. Or at least not won.
Darker and darker. The water pressure forces the air from his lungs. He's not going to get out of this one.
A sob escapes him. He swallows dirty salt water.
To die now, just when he'd found…
Not long now. His eyes drift shut from exhaustion.
Soon.
The chains fall away. Instinctively, he tries to kick up, but his muscles have no oxygen, his legs are too heavy.
A strong hand closes around his wrist. Jack feels himself being pulled upwards, his arm almost torn from the socket.
He forces his eyes open. As they rise, the darkness recedes. He sees a shadow first: angular, dark.
A bit further up, he can make out big ears and a black leather jacket.
