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"I can't swim," Kino says, and he looks frozen by fear, rooted on the spot.
It's fine, Cassian wants to say. I've never learned either.
But he's standing on the very edge, and he’s swept off his feet before he can even open his mouth. Someone collides with him and suddenly he's weightless. He doesn't even see the water, only the sky above and the walls of the prison. Freedom, he thinks.
He hits the water and the impact steals his breath. The blaster he’s still holding smacks him in the face. And then he sinks.
Cold. Dark.
For a terrifying second he doesn't know which way is up. He wants to yell, for Melshi, anyone. He keeps his mouth shut even when he wants to gasp for air. More and more people plummet from the prison. White bubbles all around. Chaos.
He releases his grip on the stolen weapon and looks which way it sinks. He kicks in the opposite direction, frantic.
His head breaches the surface. He takes a lungful, then coughs when a wave hits him in the face.
It's not that hard, he thinks. His eyes sting from the salt and it feels like crying.
He kicks and kicks again to stay afloat, strained muscles unaccustomed to the task. He turns his back away from the prison, briefly wondering if Kino jumped after him anyway. If he's already drown underwater, drifting with the current, eyes open and unseeing, turning blue.
He can see the shore ahead, far away in the distance. Freedom.
People are already swimming in that direction, despite the confusion, and Cassian tries to follow. He nearly gets kicked in the head. More waves hit his face and he sputters. Asking for help is useless, screaming will only tire him down. He clenches his teeth and tries to swim, head bobbing under the water. The orange and white overalls are waterlogged and it’s weighing him down. At least we don’t have shoes, he thinks.
He's not moving fast enough, and a straggler falls on top of him, pushing him underwater again. Up and down don't exist anymore. Only water. Dark and infinite.
I'm going to die, he thinks as he kicks uselessly, limbs cold and heavy. He doesn't mean to, but his brain is not working properly and he can't think straight anymore — he opens his mouth to breathe. The bubbles go up, and he knows he should follow them, but his vision is dimming and his legs won't respond.
There is a hand on his collar. Firm and unyielding.
I'm back in the prison, he thinks.
He panics. Flails and swings. His loose fist connects with something solid. Someone grunts. The hand never lets go.
He can hear someone talking. The words don't make sense but he knows that voice. He trusts that voice. He's so kriffing tired anyway. He stops resisting and just floats.
Floats.
Swims.
He's in the water. He can't swim.
He’s panicking again, but this time the hand shakes him and the voice growls and the words start making sense despite the water in the ears and the cold seizing his brain. His eyes sting and his muscles are cramping from the cold. But he's above water somehow. He's alive.
"Keep breathing, Keef. Stop struggling. You're doing fine. That's it. Keep breathing."
Melshi, Cassian tries to say but he just gets a mouthful of water.
"Don't speak, you fool." Melshi sounds breathless. Tired. He's swimming for the both of them, Cassian realizes.
They're alone. He can't see anyone else around them, only waves and the immensity of the ocean.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles and he manages not to swallow water this time.
"Shut up," Melshi says. "You're fine," he says.
Am I? Cassian thinks.
There is a wet rattle in his lungs and he can't feel his fingers anymore. He can't see anything through the sting of the salt water and the dark that's falling. His ears buzz and he tries to keep up, he really does. He passes out again.
There are lips on his mouth and air in his lungs. His eyes fling open and he tries to swing, but his punch never lands. Rough hands roll him and then he's on his side, and he coughs and coughs and retches on the wet sand. The hands retreat and he whines at the loss.
"Shh," Melshi says. He pats his shoulder.
His body hurts like he was beaten black and blue. The ground is hard against his hip. It’s not a good place to lie and rest, he thinks, as he watches the waves lap at his lax hand. His fingers are white and don’t feel like his anymore. He should be shivering. Maybe he drowned, like Kino, like all the others.
He realizes he lost the blaster he had earlier and fear seizes him, colder than the ocean, and he pats the sand around, trying to get on all fours, because they need it, they're barefoot and half dead and night is falling, or maybe he's passing out again and...
"Shh," Melshi says again. He grabs his face, his hands are firm, his own face so close, and he repeats, "Breathe, Keef, breathe."
And Cassian tries, he really does. His ribs hurt as he pants, slower and deeper until it matches Melshi's breathing. It unlocks something in his chest and Cassian feels like he's breathing for the first time in months. Air, outside, salty air.
Freedom.
They don’t have time to discuss, to rejoice or mourn the ones who didn’t make it — some part of him hopes they’re alone because he was a deadweight, and that they’re already running away on land, long gone before them.
Melshi drags him to his feet, and he flings his arm around his shoulders. Cassian stumbles but he stays up. He has no other choice.
I should tell him my name’s not Keef, he thinks.
His body is warming up, he feels alive. There are lights in their back, searching. They start running.