Chapter Text
He stands under the bridge as the rain pours, watching the water flow freely in the river. He remembers how deep it is; deep enough to envelop his body and still leave wiggle room. He slips his shoes and socks off, sitting them together neatly at the support beam for the bridge out of the way of any serious water damage, then taking out his wallet and placing it on top.
As he starts to wade through the water to the deepest area, he thinks of the misgivings he’s been dealt. It consumes his mind as he drags his feet, the water slowly reaching up to his neck. He peeks out from underneath the bridge one last time to look at the sky... and then he dives. He dives to where he can’t feel the ground under his feet anymore, and just stays still.
He feels the water surrounding him; the rain pattering on the surface just above him. He feels wrapped in a cold blanket, one he can never escape. He doesn’t mind the fact that he can’t escape; it’s what he had planned, after all. As the clock ticks down from 80 seconds towards death, he feels his body attempting to fight back. It’s weak.
He isn’t counting consciously, so he thinks it’s about 30 seconds when the water feels less cold and more non-existent. It’s simply like he’s unable to move, calmly staying still. At about 50 seconds, he feels choked, letting out little bits of his breath. He’s reaching 60 seconds; his body is starting to give up.
He knows what can happen next; he could suffocate two ways. He could have a laryngospasm; water reaches his vocal chords and his body takes that as a priority over the fact that he has so little oxygen in his blood and his body starts to choke him as the prejudged ‘correct response’. On the other hand, he could die the more common way; he involuntarily breathes in, continuously swallowing water until he can’t swim up and he’ll drown.
At about 70 seconds, he’s taking into account every little aspect of his past failed attempts at taking his life; there’s always a way it goes wrong, a way he isn’t able to reach the gates that he so desires. He’s been robbed of death every time. He won’t be this time; he’s waiting for the moment his body gives up.
But that moment never comes.
Instead, he feels air filling his lungs above the water, his body not needing to panic, because oxygen is filtering through him again. His body feels so cold and numb, as though death had already grabbed him. Through the numbness, he can feel two - or maybe it’s four - hands gripping his upper arms, painfully tight. As a miniscule amount of feeling returns to his body, he registers the ground underneath him, as though he’s being dragged.
He opens his eyes.
Above him are two odd looking people, with black scars covering their faces. They look extremely pale, much more than he does. He doesn’t have much more time before he’s turning over and gulping in as much air as he can, gasping and choking on it. He feels so fucking robbed .
His hearing is slowly coming back as he hears the two people who saved him chattering away in another language. Once he has enough air inside of him to dilute the carbon dioxide, he turns back up, trying to move into a sitting position. He registers a hand on his upper arm, but soft this time.
“Ah, careful.” The one in white says, placing their hand on his upper arm. He watches as the other person behind him leans to peak at himself, meeting their eyes when they reach his. The stranger in black leans towards the other in white then, whispering something he can’t work out. The white nods, removing their hand from him and placing it on the black.
“You seem like you had calculated that quite well.” The one in black says. They very nearly seem to be mocking him, as though they believe he’s pathetic. He looks away.
“If you both hadn’t of saved me it would have gone quite swell.” He says, starting to stand up. “It’s the fourth time. Aren’t you sick of it yet?” He steadies himself against the wall behind them as the two rush to help him. He waves his hand dismissively at them, not needing their help.
As he steps towards his shoes, he notices his wallet is missing from the pile he had left. He spins around to the two behind him, glaring. Their smiles are knowing, one more malicious than the other.
“What’s wrong, Aesop?” The one dressed in black asks. He continues to glare at the two. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, we were just checking if you had any emergency contacts. Geez.” They chuck the wallet back to him. He shuffles through it, noticing that there really wasn’t anything missing.
“If you know my name, I’d quite like to know yours.” He says and it’s quite a shy tone, considering the annoyance the two had caused him. The one in white smiles, walking towards Aesop calmly. The other walks behind him, until suddenly they can’t be distinguished. They bow, looking up to meet Aesop's eye.
“We’re Wu Chang. Pleasure to meet you.”
‘ Oh god, ’ Aesop thinks. ‘ They’re a Merge. ’ He takes them in; Merges are rather rare and someone sharing that they’re a merge is even more rare. ‘ Am I really worth telling? Someone who wants to die so so terribly? ’ He shakes his head, watching as their hand brushes his cheek. They seem to de-merge (would he called it a split?) and stand together again, watching Aesop. His features soften more, not smiling but less inquisitive.
“But what are your names, as individuals?” He asks, sitting to put his socks and shoes back on. His binder is soggy. It hurts his chest, pulls a lot and feels wrong. His packer is falling out of his pants, but it’s slightly chafing too.
“Fan.” The one in black says. He seems much more defensive and mischievous.
“Xie” The other says as he leans down to lend Aesop a hand in standing up once more. He takes it with slight hesitation, and rightfully so. Xie pulls him close, holding his face up to look into his eyes.
“We have a proposal for you, Mr Aesop Carl.”