He did as he was bade, holding his breath under he was down, until he trust himself to simply pull the air and out. Forehead on his arm, he watched Max move, frowning slightly when he returned with the water.

All they had.

What kind of man would he be, what kind of friend, if he let Max waste it on him?

He started to protest, but then Max's was holding him down and his back was arching under the cold splash of water, his lungs emptying in a rush, and all he could do was bury his face in the crook of his arm. Squeezing his eyes shut, his hands into fists as he rode the wave.