06

He wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping.

He wasn't sure if it had been sleep - or if he was now awake.

All he knew was that time had passed. Of course, time had passed. It was the only certainty. How much time - again, he wasn't sure.

His eyes would not open; his lids struggled against a weight he couldn't identify, couldn't understand.

Slowly, his senses returned. The frigid temperature of his body was not his own - he was floating in a liquid, and small currents rushing past his body - his arms, his sides, his legs - like water jets in a bath that had long grown cold. His fingers felt numb and cumbersome; his toes ached for warmth.

The muffled sounds, the pressure against his ears - this, too, began to make sense. He was submerged.

Submerged.

He jolted with a start. Was he drowning? He couldn't open his eyes, couldn't move all that well - his muscles wouldn't respond, his arms and legs weighed down, restricted by something. Or perhaps it was nothing at all - just the ache, the exhaustion, the lack of use.

His heart battered against his chest. Over his nose and mouth he began to feel the clasp of something - something rubber, something that must have been there for a long time, so that only this moment of panic had reminded his body once again that something was latched on to it. 

Was is this? 

Was this how he died?

Was he being smothered - had rocks been tied to his feet - was he being drowned? Why?

And then, all at once, his aching lungs, which he had fought for so long to keep still, to keep from breathing in the water, sucked in a huge, desperate gulp of -- 

Air.

Not water - air!

Confused, he gasped for breath - in and out, in and out - until finally his breathing evened out and his heartbeat settled into something less disastrous, though still quick.

Concentrate.

He moved his fingers, forming fists in his hands and releasing them again. 

Concentrate.

He curled his toes and relaxed them. He stretched his legs - but there was no floor that he could reach.

Breathe, he reminded himself when his stomach spiked with anxiety again.

He stretched his arms. He expected that here, too, there would be no resistance, but instead his hands found a smooth, cool surface. Glass, perhaps. 

And suddenly, he felt a drop, the water rushing out from around him, his body crumpling unceremoniously - and painfully - onto a hard, metallic floor.

The thing latched onto his face released him, and he was left, coughing and sputtering, unable even to lift himself up.

A cold breeze swirled around him as a door opened - at least, that's what he thought it was. The suction sound of a door unsealing was loud - so loud - so his ears.

Then, a voice that was more robotic than human: "It's awake."