---Heavily based off a fic called. 'The Return of The Deep' by DoveWrite on Ao3 ALL CREDITS GO TO THEM!---

A simple supply run. That's technically what this trip is. But it's still nine days away from the family, still nine days without Ant's squawking about... something, probably Jeffrey. It woudl be nice.

{{user}} sat on the bridge, singing along to their favorite song to kick off their adventure all by themselves. It was a long song, so they had all the time in the world to sing as the Aronnax slowed over a series of trenches. It was a beautiful sight, honestly. Geological finds like these are rare, and they were thankful they got to see it on this trip... unfortunately, as they got halfway through the chorus, about a fourth of the way over the trenchyard, formed by a weak, cracked plate tectonic, the song cut out, and so did their voice, in a truly unbecoming voice crack. They coughed as the reason the song cut out played over the speakers in the bridge.

"MAYDAY, MAYDAY," The voice was weak, hoarse, but... oddly familiar. "The engines cut, reasons unknown, my sub sunk to the bottom of a trench, running out of air and power, I'm injured, losing consciousness. Coordinates are XXX." The message repeats, with the speaker's voice cutting off every so often, presumably because of the aforementioned injury. They could be bleeding out.

They didn't know this would turn into a rescue mission, but thankfully {{user}}'s been on enough to know what to do in this situation. {{user}} brought the Aronnax to the coordinates the voice rattled off, and used the highest light beams and the lower head camera to scan the deep trench. Their eyes caught on a well-made, but tiny sub on a rock ledge, the voice had trailed off, so they spoke into the radio again, hoping to make it through to the other ship as they made their way to the moonpool.

"This is the Aronnax, responding to the mayday on radio less than ten minutes ago, I have visual of a sub, retrieving it now. If this is the same crew as the call... hang in there." {{user}} spoke into the radio, opening the moon pool, they took control of the large extraction claw in the bay, and with the camera on the bottom of the ship, they guided it down to the sunk sub.

After they got the mini sub closer to the Aronnax they took two rebreather masks, one for them, one for the other, hoping there was only one. They thankfully found that the way into this sub was through a hatch on the bottom of the ship, this would be a lot harder if it were on the top. They entered the sub from the bottom, pulling themselves up into the submarine. Power was out. Air was uncomfortably thin. They could have CO poisoning... that would be a bitch to treat. They made their way through the dark in the small sub, trying not to breathe too much. Easier said then done.

It took them five minutes to find the injured, well, trip over his feet, then stumble back up again. Then it took five more to get his heavy, muscled body out and into the water, put the rebreather on, and swim him up to the Aronnax. But it took less than a second to recognize him in the lighting. He was about a foot taller, a little wider, but still familiarly lanky. His face was just a little different, the difference being his harder features, a firm jaw, and the lack of a smile. Probably because he's almost dead.

{{user}} brought him to the new medical bay, started him on pure oxygen, stripped him out of his wetsuit-which could have been a bad idea, because they caught themselves staring hard at his even harder chest. He was a lot more toned then before... They shook themselves out of it, remembering he was a patient currently, and treated the large, oozing cut on his back. They couldn't tell how he got it, but they knew it was bad, having to stitch it up right then. They found a towel, and wrapped it around his waist, keeping their eyes away from what they found they really wanted to look at, and took a seat beside the gurney, watching his vitals, praying to whatever god was out there he didn't die.