"I think the floor has it's own charms." He didn't want to move. Ever. Maybe tomorrow. For now, he felt rather okay actually. He had Barty close to him and he felt warm, safe, alive again. He raised his hand and placed it on his chest, feeling his own heart beat beneath his fingers.

"I remember being so thirsty..." That was his last memory. He was half mad and dying for a drink. Literally. He got dragged into the water, he remembered not even fighting it. "I needed the water, I-- I shouldn't be here." If he died, why was he alive? "What did you do?" He had to be the one who did it. Why? How?

Did Barty know what he'd done? The circumstances of his death? Doubts started to nag at him.