14 December 1893 — St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies & Injuries
Rémy Toulouse

The beast was after her again. Irene could feel her heart pounding in her chest as her feet hit the pavement, carrying her over cobblestones and loose dirt. She already knew how this would end: she would be chased into an alleyway, cornered like a trapped mouse, her hands gripping the bricks of the building behind her as if her life depended on it. Then the dragon would come sauntering around the corner, taking his time because it was the fear in the air that he fed on and he could smell it positively simmering across Irene’s skin. And then she would plunge into the cold river water that made her sick to her stomach.

She saw the glowing eyes and felt the air vibrate as it inhaled. The ember of heat grew in its chest, and as its jaws opened she could see flames licking at the razor sharp teeth. She knew once the dragon locked eyes with her, it would be over. Pressing her lips together, Irene closed her eyes and leaned backwards…and fell.

She kept falling, for the wall behind her that had been digging into her back had disappeared. She felt the heat rush over her, but this time instead of a blistering pain, it felt….quite lovely. Warm and inviting.

And then she hit the water.

It wasn’t stagnant and metallic and putrid like it usually was. This time it was salty, fresh and warm. She had, by some miracle, held her breath this time. Her legs kicked as if by memory as she rose to the surface and broke through. Instead of the roaring flames of a dragon, she was met with roaring laughter from a familiar figure ahead of her. It was the middle of summer and she was next to a dock that stretched into the sea. Throwing her arms up, Irene caught the metal of the dock’s ladder. Words tumbled out before she could process what just happened, because the dragon had not only disappeared from in front of her, it had disappeared from her memory.

There was only Remy in front of her now, head thrown back with laughter as the sun’s rays hit his bronzed skin. The rest of their friends would be meeting them soon, but before that happened, she had to learn how to swim.

“Rémy, you said you wouldn’t push me in!”

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   Rosalie Hunniford

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It had barely taken Remy a day or so to find Irene Crawley. In a hospital of all places, in a coma. Still, it had been a rather lucky find that had been aided by one of his drawings of her. One of the hospital staff had recognized her and directed him here.

He had been sitting with her, holding her hand. He eventually fell asleep like that, his hand still in hers. At first, things were hazy and then he was somewhere that felt, smelled and looked like a memory. The ocean scent and laughter on his own lips. He remembered doing this - no, he was currently doing this? Either way, Irene was now a soaked, indignant dryad.

"Life and the art of swimming can only be experienced by just jumping on in," he teased.

  

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She was laughing freely as she scrambled up the ladder. “I didn’t jump!” She protested, shaking the dark mane piled on top of her head to spray water droplets everywhere. Flicking her fingers at him, she narrowed her eyes. “Just wait until Matthias gets here, I’m going to make him push you in and then we’ll see how you like it!”

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"All right, it was an assisted jump," Remy said without a shred of remorse. The idea of Matthias showing up made butterflies flutter throughout his stomach but he swallowed the feeling down. "I would happen to love it, ma chérie," Remy said cheekily before diving in himself.

  

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Just for his cheek she should shove him in. But Remy only gave her an impish smile before jumping, breaking through the surface of the water effortlessly; as if he expected it to part for him and it could only oblige. Irene almost stamped her foot in frustration. She could swim decently; at first she had ended up flailing dementedly in the water like a baby duckling. Years of observing and retracing and copying had served her well in this instance, making sure she was a quick study and could dart through the water seamlessly. But diving?

She was back being a demented baby duck.

“Teach me to do that!” She demanded, pointing at the water as he resurfaced.

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"You have to take in a big breath of air before hitting the water," he said. "Make sure to close your eyes as well." He dove under the surface and swam a ways before resurfacing. There was a surreal feeling that hit him though he didn't know why. He tried shaking the feeling off.

  

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A big breath of air. And closing her eyes? Sighing, she stepped forward, trying to copy his exact motions. Once she hit the water though, gasping at the wrong point, in the blink of an eye she was back on the platform, soaking wet. She blinked, looking down at Remy. “Did you do that?”

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"Come on, jump in," Remy said, as if Irene had both not dove in at all or even asked him anything. "Or does someone need to push you?" His eyes twinkled in mischief as he floated in the water.

  

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He hadn’t. It was as if she hadn’t jumped in. What in Merlin’s name was happening? Words from someone echoed in her mind. You’re dreaming! You must wake up! They came out of no where. But nothing else seemed to be out of order, so she shook herself. Responded to Rémy instead. “No don’t you dare!” She pushed the echoes out of her mind before backing up to take a running jump.

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Remy swam out of the way as he mentally estimated where Irene might land. He was hit with that feeling again, that surreal feeling like none of this was real. Had he been in the water for too long?

  

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A run. Then a jump. And — Irene let out a delighted scream as she dove into the water. Again. But this time when she landed, it felt like a whirlpool had started to form. The top of the water seemed at least ten feet away. Why did she feel like this was all a dream again? “Remy?!” She shouted.

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Remy did not know what was going on. Suddenly he was within a whirlpool but it felt like... it was not touching him at all. This was all very strange. He looked at Irene. "Don't you think you have been asleep for too long?" He found himself asking which made no sense to him. They were awake, weren't they?

  

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Asleep? “For too long…?” Irene watched from the water, mouth agape as the distance to the dock seemed to stretch before her, doubling in size. “Remy!” She shouted again, kicking her legs and swimming towards him. “I’m not asleep, I’m awake.” She murmured to herself. It seemed an effortless task wherein no water seemed to have gotten into her mouth, despite the fact that she was very much submerged as she struggled to close the distance between her and her friend. “Remy! Remy, help! Wake me up!”

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Remy honestly had no idea what was going on now. Irene seemed so very far away. She was drowning and he couldn't save her because he was so far away. "Irene! Irene, wake up!" He yelled before finding himself waking up with a jolt. He felt disoriented as he realized he was in Irenes hospital room with a still-comatose Irene. "Irene?" He called to her, just in case, as he took his friends had in his own.

  

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