[centre][color=seagreen][b][h1]Theodore[/h1][/b]
[img]http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/34200000/TEEN-WOLF-SEASON-3-tyler-posey-34243750-500-281.gif[/img]
[b]Location:[/b]Flight BAW229; Los Angeles to London.[/color][/centre]

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As the explosion continued to rocket the plane, Theodore kept his grip on Emily, unwilling to let her be ripped away from him as well, his gaze on the spot where Isaura had been, only to be torn away. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and he tore his eyes away, looking to Emily, knowing she was terrified, and unable to do anything about it. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tightly, looking to give her any comfort he could, as they plummeted towards the ocean. 

Some part of Theodore that wasn’t filled with fear, with heartbreak, remained calm. He had heard stories of people surviving plane crashes by staying in their seats, but the looming ocean rising up to greet them told him there would be no surviving if they were buckled in. They’d drown, and the last thing he’d see was Emily gasping for air. He twisted, releasing his death grip on Emily, to reach down, and pull at her seat belt, gripping the clasp tightly, he watched the water continue to grow, the length of the ocean widening, becoming more vast, and closer as they drew nearer and nearer. 

[color=seagreen]”Make your way to the top, Emily”[/color] He said in her ear, his voice rough, [color=seagreen]”And I’ll come find you”[/color] As they met the water, Theodore pressed on Emily’s clasp, releasing her, and shoving her out the seat, towards the ocean, [color=seagreen]”Get clear, Emily! Get clear!”[/color] He cried, fumbling with his own seatbelt, he didn’t see where she went under, and he closed his eyes, hoping he hadn’t just killed his sister. The tears he hadn’t let fall in front of his sister unable to be denied any longer, and when he opened his eyes again, it made it nearly impossible to see. 

As the plane hit the water, the cabin- or what was left of it- began to fill with the biting cold, his fingers, sore from his earlier attempts to try and tear his own seatbelt off, fumbled with the buckle once more. He tried not to panic, tried to keep his breathing even, so as not to make his situation worse, but he couldn’t hold it at bay. What if… What if Isaura was dead? Who would look after Emily? How was she going to survive in this terrifyingly cold ocean? Once, twice, he gripped the clasp weakly, trying to free himself as the water continued to rise. He tried not to focus on other passengers as they struggled to free themselves as well, tried not to focus on how cold, how rapidly numb he was becoming as the water rose, seeking to cover him completely. His fingers struggled even more with the clasp as the water made everything harder. 

His last breath was more a gasp, as the water rose above his head. As the cold sapped his energy, the last dregs of warmth leaving his body, Theodore knew that he would die in that seat. He just… He had to believe that both Emily and Isaura were alive… He had to die thinking that. His fingers grasped the clasp once more, his body striving to expel the air in his lungs, and bring in a fresh replacement, he finally freed himself. His body rose out his seat, and he had to turn away from others, still trapped, knowing that he was leaving them to doom, to death by drowning. 

His lungs burning, growing ever painful with each passing second, Theodore kicked, trying to go for a powerful push that would take him out the plane. The cold sunk into his bones, to the point where he thought he might never get warm again. Was that how death felt like, the sapping of every last ounce of warmth, the furious need to breath, but being unable to? The pain of being torn apart from the only people you loved in this world? His eyes stung, but he refused to close them. 

He kicked again, clearing the wreckage. His lungs were furiously demanding oxygen, and he knew that if he opened his mouth, that would be the end. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake, he needed to reach the surface, before his body overruled him, and sought the much needed air it was telling him he needed. He couldn’t swim down… 

But he couldn’t tell which way was up. 

Panic filling his brain even more- if that was even possible- Theodore kicked again, before he stopped moving. Some instinctual part of him told him, reminded him, that humans floated. For one horrible moment, he thought he had got that wrong, remembered wrong, or maybe his instincts were just rebelling as his body grew more and more angry at him. And then he slowly rose, and he kicked upwards. The last little bit of air he had in his lungs expelling, to blow a small trail of bubbles into the water, swallowed up by the bubbles his movements created. His lungs furiously demanded that he breath, and he fought that instinct, that natural mechanism. 

Just a little bit longer, he told himself, a little bit longer, and then he could breath all he liked. A little bit longer, and he could find Isaura and Emily. Please… don’t let him have killed his little sister… 

When his head broke the surface, he almost didn’t believe it, his lung sucking in the blessed, sweet air in several gasping gulps, before he expelled it in one long shout, [color=seagreen]”ISAURA, EMILY!”[/color] It wasn’t as strong as he would have liked, his abused throat, the shout drawing out into a near whisper, his tears stinging, and he furiously reached up to wipe his eyes, as he desperately looked about, for any sort of familiar silhouette. 

[color=seagreen]”Please… be okay… “[/color]