Chapter 11: The Boat - Part 3

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TW drowning and trauma—multiple instances.

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At first, Charlie had no idea what to do. The rope tied around her waist was still attached to Sokka and the fisherman, their body weight pulling her down even further. Internally she blamed Sokka's lanky figure, the lack of body fat making him completely unbuoyant—in other words, he sank like a rock.

But then the panic truly set in. It was so dark, the water such an icy cold that her skin had gone numb, but at the same time stung and ached. Her lungs screamed, begged for air that she'd already exhaled.

She tried pushing her legs to move, hoping the surface wasn't as far as it seemed. But really, she couldn't even see the surface. The desperation caused exhaustion to set in, and her legs slowed.

Something inside Charlie made her want to apologise. She didn't know what for, or who to. But as white spots appeared in her vision, she could only feel guilty.

She didn't want to drown again. Her lungs burned.

Her fingers slipped off the rope, her muscles refusing to hold on.

Wondering if, just for a moment, closing her eyes would help.

When Charlie was just about to give up the last shred of hope she held, a bright cyan glow encaptured her. Her eyes shot open as her body was yanked down, her body slamming onto another figure. The water seemed to conform around them in a spherical wave, and she knew she'd have to thank Aang later. In a matter of seconds, she felt the water's surface break and the cool air on her wet skin. Charlie hacked violently and uncontrollably, twisting herself to the side as she forced the water out of her lungs.

She shakily took short breaths, in and out, trying to calm her heart. When she finally reopened her eyes—not realising she'd closed them in the first place—she found that the figure she'd landed on was Sokka.

Instinctively she grabbed his face with one hand, softly smacking his cheek with the other to ensure he was conscious. She turned his face from side to side until his bright blue eyes shot open to meet hers. "Oh thank god," she breathed out softly, hiding her face in her soaking elbow, shoulders hitching sporadically.

When Charlie felt him move to sit up, she shuffled off him, collapsing next to his side. "Hey hey, you're okay," she heard him assure, feeling a gentle hand against her back.

Her eyes stung—because of the sea water. And the fluid that leaked inconsolable down her cheeks?

That was definitely also sea water.

For a period of time Charlie wasn't sure of how long it lasted, her body seeming to move automatically without instruction from her brain after Appa had landed them in a cave, a small campfire burning. Sounds muffled out around her as she sat by it, trying to warm herself up despite the damp clothes sticking to her skin.

Sokka sat next to her, arms wrapped around his legs as he shivered by the fire.

"Some storm. Who would have thought?" she croaked out dully.

"Not. A word," he breathed out dramatically.

She was only silent for a second before the corners of her lips quirked upwards. "America."

"Charlie!" he exclaimed, snapping his head towards her.

"Oh I see how it is," she began tauntingly. "So twelve hours ago when we were playing word chain it's not a word, but now it's convenient to you it is."

"Come on, I said I was sorry."

"No you didn't."

"O—oh, well, I am. Uh, sorry."

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