Work Text:
Doug plummets downward, the water pressure crushing him like an invisible fist. Panic sets in as he struggles to breathe, his lungs burning with desperation. He wonders why he can't grow gills, just for a moment, to survive this suffocating descent. But his body refuses to adapt, and he feels his chest constricting, his heart racing like a jackrabbit. As darkness closes in, Doug's mind unravels. He's lost, alone, and drowning in an endless sea. The silence is oppressive, broken only by his straining body's creaks and groans. And yet...
A faint hum, like a harp string's gentle thrumming, vibrates through the water. Doug recognizes the sound, speaking directly to his soul. The humming grows louder, accompanied by whispers of encouragement and soft murmurs of reassurance. The voices are indistinguishable, but their emotions are clear — warmth, comfort, and concern. Doug's eyes dart wildly, searching for the sound's source, but there's only darkness. Still, the noises persist, weaving a sonic tapestry of calm. The water seems to recede, and Doug's panic ebbs. He feels himself pulled upward, toward the surface, toward the light.
Suddenly, he's elsewhere. Not in the water, not in the darkness, but in Roger's arms. The older boy sits on the cold floor, cradling Doug like a child, his voice a soothing melody of comfort and reassurance. "Shh, shh, I've got you, kiddo. You're safe. You're okay."
Doug's body trembles, caught in anxiety attack aftershocks. Roger holds him close, rocking gently, his voice a steady heartbeat of calm. As tension seeps from Doug's muscles, he exhales shakily, feeling fear's weight lift, carried away by Roger's gentle words.
Reaching out, Doug realizes he's not alone. He's wrapped in a safety cocoon, surrounded by Roger's soft, golden glow. The darkness recedes, and the world snaps into focus. Doug's eyes lock onto Roger's, seeing only kindness, compassion, and love staring back.