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The water around him was calm, the sky clear above him, the moonlight glittering from beyond and the steady drip drip drip of the rain dancing on the surface sent a wash of calmness over his being. He let his limbs get carried through the currents, let himself sink deeper as the moon above kept shrinking the farther he went. He ignored the way his lungs protested from the lack of air, ignored the urgent need to rise up to the surface for oxygen, ignored the way he could barely stay conscious any longer, vision greying around the edges and blurring into a mix of blues.
His eyes fell shut.
It felt calm. It felt like peace. He could finally leave, he could finally rest, he could finally meet her again. He smiled, letting his last breath bubble up to the surface as he felt the lingering heaviness of something in his chest lift off of him.
There was only one thought whispering in the back of his mind before he surrendered to the waters, before he drifted into sleep, before he let the darkness consume him; everything would stop hurting now .
And darkness.
Still.
Serene.
Calm.
Splash –
Abruptly, the sense of calmness was pulled harshly away from him. A voice – an indecipherable voice – shouting. Loud.
What was happening?
" –ephen! Ste– "
No.
" –n me! Ple– "
No. No, no, no, no!
A rush of oxygen. Splattered coughs. Light flashing across his vision. Heart pulsating with life. A face, blurring into focus. Brown eyes, wide in panic. Words, spoken out in ragged puffs. Hair, dripping with water.
"Oh God, please be alive. Stephen! Stephen! Oh, thank heavens, thank God– "
An embrace, tight. Warm.
Unwelcomed.
He pulled away, pushing Tony before he had a chance to speak another word.
They stared, one pair of eyes widened in shock, the other taut in anger.
"Why did you save me?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"Stephen, I–"
" Why did you save me!? " a yell this time.
No words were exchanged then. The atmosphere was still and tense, silence that was only broken from huffs of breath. And then Tony stood up.
"What do you expect me to do, asshole!?" he shouted, and Stephen's eyes widened at the barely concealed anger. "Watch you drown and wait till you die?!"
Silence.
"What if I wanted to?" it was said in a whisper.
A step back. A stumble to his knees. Two, cold, wet hands, clutching at his face.
"I'd never let you."
Another moment of silence.
"It's my choice. If I wanted to take away my own life, it's my choice." his voice cracked by the end, his body shaking, holding back sobs that threatened to break out.
A huff. "Take away your own life?" His hands slipped to hold shaking shoulders, a firm, nearly painful grasp.
"Taking it from who?" he spoke, the question tense as it lingered in the air, "Once it's over, it's not you who'll miss it."
A stare.
"Your own death is something that happens to everyone else. Your life is not your own," a stuttered breath, " take your hands off it ."