Work Text:
Oz couldn’t breathe. The murky water absorbed all sunlight. He thrashed wildly, trying to go up. Which way—?
Slam! His head hit the bottom.
It was all harsh rocks and spikes. Strands of blood floated away from his forehead, bright red despite the pitch black surroundings. Oz watched them go, hands over his mouth to keep in his whimper of pain.
You don’t belong here.
“I know!” Oz said. Each word formed a pink-tinged bubble.
Get out.
“How?”
GET OUT GET OUTYoung Master Oz!”
Oz woke up gasping.
“Are you okay?”
His bedroom, Gil.
“Yeah, just a bad dream.”