Greatwater Lake phone ringing, never outgoing

It takes him a moment to register the other's words as his coughing dies down, replaced by ragged, gasping breaths; when he does, though, it hits him immediately that he'll have to do this himself as he'd intended. The realization sends a rush of adrenaline through him, though he feels nothing more than panicked and weary as he pulls himself to his feet. Logic had died in the icy waters, and to his shock-numbed mind the danger is minimal. Or at least, the cost is one he can swallow; his life has never meant very much to him, even at his best.
None of this crosses his mind as he turns wordlessly toward the dying stranger, struggling to stifle his coughs as he moves on slightly unsteady paws. He might imagine later that heroism drove him, that perhaps he isn't quite the piece of shit coward he's always proven himself; in this moment, though, he knows the raw truth of it. Fear drives him, as it always has — fear of the weight of this stranger's death sitting heavy between his shoulder blades, perched with every other demon he's collected. He would rather suffer the frigid waters again — he would rather die —
And he probably will lol.