(Based on an impromptu rp with my sister. TW: Death, near drowning, and mention of suicide.)

  Splash!

  In the dead of night, water sprays outward and rains back into the lake. Ripples shift the moon's reflection and flee to the lakebed.

  Suitcase jolts upward. What was that?

  Like a trance, she stands up and walks to the lake. With every step she takes, her apprehension grows, the knot in her chest tightening and the gaping, empty pit in her stomach growing wider. She's aware of her own heavy breathing. It's not safe here. It's dangerous. She's in danger.

  But the lake calls to her, and she goes to it, like a stupid dog, every time. She heard something this, she heard something that. She always hears something. But when the sand crunches under her feet, she stops and watches the ripples gliding toward her.

  She really did hear something this time.

  Ripples could only mean one thing. Something is in the water. What could've fallen in, so far into the lake? A stone, or something? Or maybe it was just the wind. Nothing really out of the ordinary.

  "What are you doing here?"

  Knife. Suitcase continues to stare out at the water.

  "I heard something. Something fell into the lake."

  Knife squints his eyes. He draws a sharp breath. "Not something," panic sets in his voice, "someone!"

  Suitcase sees it immediately. Bubbles, right on the lake's surface. Oh god.

  "Wh- We have to save them!" Suitcase rushes into the lake and flinches at the sting of cold water, tingling at her legs. She shivers, forcing herself to wade deeper. Water laps at her bare leather. "C-Come on!"

  Knife sprints and dives into the water. Suitcase gulps in air, and dives down after him. A firm hand– Knife– grabs her handle and drags her along with him. Suitcase kicks her legs, trying her hardest not to be a burden. Water streams past, and she hardly knows what's around her.

  Why is someone in the lake? What happened? And– last time she was in this lake, she...

  Water stops rushing past and Suitcase, to the best of her ability, opens her eyes. It stings, but she's able to see a blurry version of Knife, trying to drag...

  Nickel!

  Suitcase gasps– and regrets it instantly. She hurries to the surface, the moonlight from above casting heavenly rays into the lake. Suitcase swims toward the light, the surface waves getting so close...

  She breaks the surface and heaves, and chokes and spits out the water she swallowed. What's Nickel, of all objects, doing in the middle of the lake!? How did he get there?

  And his face...his face didn't look like it belonged to him. He was panicked. Scared. He was thrashing about in slow motion. Suitcase didn't think he was even capable of showing those emotions. Which is a rude thing on her part, but given–

  No! What is she doing? Knife needs her down there! And Nickel...

  Maybe Nickel needs her too.

  Suitcase breathes in and dives, her movements sharp as scissors. Again, the water is a painful sting in her eyes, and her legs are starting to ache, but she can't just give up. The thought is etched into her mind, the mantra burned into her brain.

  For once in her life, Nickel actually needs her.

  And the things he did were unforgivable. Suitcase could never be able to put into words just how much he hurt her. He never trusted her, never worked with her– he never did anything a friend was supposed to do. It was never personal.

  But Suitcase wouldn't stand idly by to let him die. She's not that kind of person. Maybe it was just never meant to work out. They're polar opposites.

  Suitcase swims down to the bottom, and pushes Nickel along the sandy floor with all her might. Knife leaves to get air– she left him alone here for far too long.

  Nickel isn't supposed to be this heavy. Is he?

  The maze challenge. Nickel stood on her to get to Microphone's eye level, and while he was extra weight on her head, he wasn't what Suitcase would call heavy. He isn't waterlogged, either. Metal doesn't get waterlogged. But she swears she can see a coating of sorts, thick around his edges.

  Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. Suitcase is set on saving Nickel from a watery grave. Sand drifts by her face. It feels like forever, and Suitcase spares a glance at the shore.

  So close. They're so close.

  She's hurting. Her muscles cry out with every movement, every step she takes brings her burning pain and aches. Every part of her is heavy with water; water that's seeped through the slightest of cracks and filled the empty space inside her. Her head pounds, and the world flashes around her. It's an all around headache, with the pressure building up and closing in on her. It's painful. It's nauseating. She's lightheaded and floating away with no anchor to hold her to the world. She's the trash in the trash compactor and expanding with the universe simultaneously. And she's floating away, higher and higher.

  And Balloon... he's calling her name...

  Suitcase coughs and hacks. The forest fire in her throat flames out of her mouth, and she vomits up water, crying and wheezing. She squeaks like a puppy in pain, and her wheezing turns into weak coughing and ragged breathing. Her head is spinning– and her mind returns just enough to register the throbbing, hammering pain in her head.

  Doubling over, Suitcase shatters under the pain shooting through her body. Her breath hitches and she shivers, legs trembling and lips quivering. But her breath is getting a bit steadier, and her mind slows down. The world is coming back into focus; the wet grass, the cool night air...what happened to her? Why is she here?

  "You okay?" someone speaks up from beside her. She struggles to place the voice, and draws a blank. She turns to see Knife, who looks at her like she almost died.

  That's exactly what happened. She almost drowned, and Knife pulled her out. 

  "I think so...thank you...for saving me." Every mouth movement feels foreign. Her tongue is numb; she could accidentally bite it at any moment. Suitcase glances back at her almost-grave. The lake...

  The lake...

  Nickel.

  "Nickel!" she cries out, "is he still down there!? We–" Suitcase dashes to the edge, the water nipping at her feet. "We have to–! Nickel! Knife, we–"

  "Suitcase." He says it like a warning. Knife gets up and walks to her side, regret trying to take a bite out of his heart. "You do realize, right? No normal object can hold their breath for that long."

  Suitcase remains quiet. She just stares out, letting the shock run its course. 

  Nickel's dead. Just like Balloon. Just like all the other victims. All of them...just gone, for an indefinite amount of time. But the shock won't let her cry. She stands there, almost forgetting physical sensation, and then a biting wind slaps at her cold spots. The night is silent.

  "Do you think he killed himself?"

  The words just spill out. She almost wants to take them back, but she knows there's no point in that.

  And if he did...could it be her fault?

  "I don't think so."

  "So...the one behind the Hotel OJ murders?"

  Knife nods. A moving figure in the distance catches his attention. Microphone is walking along the lakeside. "I'm going to ask Mic if she knows anything."

  He walks off before Suitcase can even suggest going with him. She closes her mouth and she glances at the lake again.

  She should get Nickel's body. It's the least she can do for him.