[ What separates Amos from feeling what so many others might in this situation is the years of growing up the way he did, learning to lock everything down. Lock it away enough that it's just...gone, a lot of it. So while he watches this stranger gradually panicking at the very real risk of drowning, Amos outwardly remains mostly calm; focused, yes, on getting him out of there because that's a thing he's decided is happening. But — he doesn't feel a reciprocal level of panic, which is maybe easy for anyone standing on the outside looking in. He can't feel much at all, except the determination that he's gonna get him out of this.
For him, it's less about genuinely caring for his life and more about this not being right. It's just not. He shouldn't go out like this.
Please. Yeah, he can make that out, and he's not just gonna stand there any longer than he has to. As the rain soaks him, he sees the water level rise ominously, wonders how it got so high so fast, but it all just looks weird, like it's rising and falling with something. With the panic maybe? Is that even possible? There's no time to stand here and think about that, to try and calm him down, he just needs to get that code punched in. He makes it out through the glass, just barely, stands there squinting an extra second or two, just to fully lock it in. If he needs to come back and look at the symbols, there's no guarantee the drowning kid will still be there. When he motions around, Amos nods, bangs the glass one more time, gives him a decisive nod, a way to tell him he's going for it now. Next time they see each other, it'll be when that damn door opens.
When he makes his way to the back of the building, he's hit with the kind of darkness that suddenly blocks out literally everything, like he can barely see his own hands. It's the first time in a long time he's felt any kind of creeping dread, and there's a growing knot in his throat that he has to really swallow around. That kid mouthing please flashes in his mind, and he keeps moving forward until his hands hit a panel. Yeah; of course it wouldn't be easy. He can't just plug the code in, he has to really work at this panel to get it open, and his fingers keep slipping, over and over. Another feeling he doesn't understand, doesn't remember feeling in a long time, is that sense of wanting to get the fuck away, far away, right now. Like something or someone is there, but it's just the shadows almost devouring him, like they have a life of their own. He has the sensation of something slick on his hands as he tries to punch the code into the panel, tries to remember it as it starts to slip away, like something's pulling it from him, but then he feels himself drifting away, too, and he's trying not to. He's caught in something, he sees something, something that would almost be terrifying except —
— something sharp, and something sticky on his hands again, but it's his own blood this time. ]
The fuck —
[ Whatever happened, though, the code worked. (Did he actually punch it in? Why can't he remember?) He takes a breath, clearing his thoughts for now, and makes a run back to the entrance to look for the panicked face that was behind the glass, that should be free now. Did the kid make it long enough?
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For him, it's less about genuinely caring for his life and more about this not being right. It's just not. He shouldn't go out like this.
Please. Yeah, he can make that out, and he's not just gonna stand there any longer than he has to. As the rain soaks him, he sees the water level rise ominously, wonders how it got so high so fast, but it all just looks weird, like it's rising and falling with something. With the panic maybe? Is that even possible? There's no time to stand here and think about that, to try and calm him down, he just needs to get that code punched in. He makes it out through the glass, just barely, stands there squinting an extra second or two, just to fully lock it in. If he needs to come back and look at the symbols, there's no guarantee the drowning kid will still be there. When he motions around, Amos nods, bangs the glass one more time, gives him a decisive nod, a way to tell him he's going for it now. Next time they see each other, it'll be when that damn door opens.
When he makes his way to the back of the building, he's hit with the kind of darkness that suddenly blocks out literally everything, like he can barely see his own hands. It's the first time in a long time he's felt any kind of creeping dread, and there's a growing knot in his throat that he has to really swallow around. That kid mouthing please flashes in his mind, and he keeps moving forward until his hands hit a panel. Yeah; of course it wouldn't be easy. He can't just plug the code in, he has to really work at this panel to get it open, and his fingers keep slipping, over and over. Another feeling he doesn't understand, doesn't remember feeling in a long time, is that sense of wanting to get the fuck away, far away, right now. Like something or someone is there, but it's just the shadows almost devouring him, like they have a life of their own. He has the sensation of something slick on his hands as he tries to punch the code into the panel, tries to remember it as it starts to slip away, like something's pulling it from him, but then he feels himself drifting away, too, and he's trying not to. He's caught in something, he sees something, something that would almost be terrifying except —
— something sharp, and something sticky on his hands again, but it's his own blood this time. ]
The fuck —
[ Whatever happened, though, the code worked. (Did he actually punch it in? Why can't he remember?) He takes a breath, clearing his thoughts for now, and makes a run back to the entrance to look for the panicked face that was behind the glass, that should be free now. Did the kid make it long enough?
Shit. ]