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Fuck. Gwaine should have been there. He knew this was going to happen someday.
A distorted call for help near him made him run quicker than he already was, and he cursed. It was only seconds before he ran out of the woods and onto a scene he had been dreading for some time now, turning his blood cold.
In front of him was a lake, bordered by trees and a little bank where Gwaine was standing. On the water, there were two little wooden boats where a few civilians were clutching each other in fear, dead bodies of their opponents floating nearby. And in the middle of the lake was a man wearing a familiar uniform, with his hands flailing above the water. Percival. Their teammates were scattered all over the scene, Merlin nowhere in sight. What was wrong with these so-called villains anyway? Besides the obvious. Kidnapping people and holding them hostages by a lake. Talk about mediaeval practices.
Frantically, Gwaine looked around to see if someone could help him, but saw no one available. Elyan was fighting someone on his left, and Lancelot was taking care of a frightened child, two more by his sides. Nobody else in sight.
“Gwaine! Get him out!” Lancelot’s frightened call kicked Gwaine back into action and he sprinted towards the lake, shouting at his teammates in his comm at the same time.
Water lapped at his feet as he cursed, running, his eyes never leaving the man in the water. He had to be quick, but he had no idea how he would be able to handle someone the size of Percival that was panicking.
Dammit, of all the places and times for their trauma to reappear…
Gwaine shook his head as the water rose to his navel and he shrugged off the top of his uniform, loosely tying the bottom of each sleeve to the shoulder seam. Now was not the time to think about it. He had to be rational. This was just another person in need of help. Thinking about the fact that it was Percival would only slow him down.
As he switched to swimming, Gwaine forced his mind to get back in that dreaded assassin mindset from long ago. In a few strokes, Gwaine reached Percival. The man was panting, his hands completely out of coordination, struggling against imaginary opponents. He was going to drown if nothing was done.
“He saved us from two of them, then he freaked out after the last one dragged him down!” screamed one of the civilians.
“Yeah, the other guy is still somewhere!”
Obviously . Fucking Murphy’s law.
“Put your boats together!” Gwaine shouted, “I need you to pull him back towards you when I tell you.”
As the civilians executed his orders, Gwaine tried to reach one of Percival’s wrists to slip it inside his rolled up top. He had managed to get one when he felt someone yank his feet.
Oh, not today.
Gwaine managed to shout Now to the civilians and inhale before he was pulled underwater. The lake was deep and the light scarce under the surface, but Gwaine managed to catch a glimpse of his opponent. Feigning to not have seen him, he waited for the man to reach back to unsheathe his dagger and plunge it inside the man’s shoulder. Bubbles erupted from the man’s mouth and Gwaine punched him as hard as he could.
The man sank towards the shadow as a small stream of blood came up. Gwaine gave a few kicks then resurfaced and took a big breath.
Fuck, fresh air. He was getting old, if that was how long he was able to go without breathing.
Shaking his head to clear off the hair that was falling in front of his eyes, Gwaine swam towards the nearest wooden boat. His mission wasn’t done yet.
As Gwaine came close to the small boat, the sight of Percival struggling to breathe threw him back years ago, after a waterboarding session gone wrong.
Once more he shook his head, trying without success to chase the thoughts away. That part of their lives was over, but Percival was in danger now .
Gwaine swam the last metre then grabbed Percival’s arm that wasn’t being pulled on and swam towards the boat, taking care to not get too close to him.
With his and the civilians' efforts combined, they managed to get a coughing Percival on the boat. He climbed in just after, then threw himself on his knees by Percival’s head. Gwaine turned the big man on his side, allowing the water to dribble out of his mouth. Percival was still panicking though, and might very well have water still stuck in his throat.
“Percival. Percival listen to me. You’re safe.”
It did nothing, not that Gwaine expected anything else, and Percival’s gaze continued to jump around. Allowing his mind to slip away from his old training, Gwaine gently placed a hand on Percival’s cheek, his touch comforting but not restricting. “Percy. Percy it’s Gwaine. You’re out of the water.”
Percival’s eyes flicked towards him, but remained unfocused and his breathing erratic. Suddenly remembering how he had calmed Percival after the fiasco years ago, Gwaine grabbed his left hand and placed it on his chest. “Percy, feel my chest. Breathe with me.”
Percival weakly squeezed his hand and Gwaine smiled. “That’s it. Focus on me. In, out.” Gwaine said, stroking Percival’s cheek in time with his instructions.
“In, out. Come on, with me. You’re safe. In, out. This is not training. We were on a mission.”
Percival had just stopped panting, which Gwaine considered a big win. “That’s it. You’re doing so good. In, out. Someone grabbed you and pulled you underwater. You’re safe now.”
Percival briefly closed his eyes then tried to turn his head to the left. Gwaine knew him though, and pushed with his hand. “Don’t look now.” The sight of so much water would probably have him going again in an instant.
Minute by minute, Percival came back to himself and Gwaine shifted so that his gentle giant rested against him. Just like all those years ago when they were still very young and had been enrolled in the League.
The first time Gwaine had held Percival like this had been after another training session , as they had been called back there. The young men had been trained to fight and whistand a lot of things, including waterboarding. But Percival had had it rougher than the rest. He had already been a bit scared of water, after an accident in his youngest years, so the teachers had decided he needed extra training to be performant. What a load of bullshit. They had just completely traumatised him. Percival was a very good swimmer, but flashbacks meant that he couldn’t get his head underwater for more than a few seconds before panicking. It was honestly surprising he had not snapped sooner.
Adrenaline rush, Gwaine assumed.
Now that the flashback had passed, Percival was slumped against Gwaine’s chest, apathetic. There would be a time to talk about it, and maybe explain some things to their teammates. For now, it was just them in their little bubble.
“You're safe,” Gwaine repeated. “They can't hurt us anymore”