Make the most out of no time

The dirt in his sides had turned into a marbled sort of confection, maroon mud in the moonlight. While it partially stopped the bleeding, Remi could feel the small granuals of sediment like broken glass, and for a long and agonizing moment, the alchemist just wanted to cry, and curl into a ball, and quit. But then he heard Sam's voice again, Sam who needed him, Sam who had saved him, and the selfishness he had wanted to give into only a moment ago now repulsed him so entirely that his eyes shot open as he clambered back to life. "Sss—" It was all he could make himself say before a muffled mixture of blood and dirt choked from his lips. Trying to roll to the side so as not to choke entirely, Remi moaned a high-pitched sort of whine into the ground as he tried desperately to breathe through the pain that threatened to bury him. Making a fist as his cheek hit the earth, panting and clenching his jaw, his other hand snaked blindly across the earth, colliding with Sam's body to give whatever part of the man it was—his leg, probably—a reassuring squeeze. "S..mmm.." He tried again, trying to press himself up from the ground but finding it utterly impossible. remi Too long till I drown in your hands