The bright crack of branches splintering beneath their combined weight is their only warning as the web's fiber's strain to contain them, plasticity stretching to its absolute limit before it splits unevenly across its own seam and falls away, limp, and they streak downwards in unison. He can feel Jay's hands grasping at him, those too-thin, sticklike fingers fisted into the material of his shirt with the desperate grip of the dying. Tim hangs doggedly onto him, even as the clinging tendrils snap away and the pair of them hit fluid below.

Tim's eyes shut against the wet slap of their bodies breaking water and they plunge beneath its roiling surface. Jay is torn from him, plummeting downwards even as his hands claw upwards in fervent search for Tim's. He squints through the turbid water, following the trail of silvery bubbles, until he glimpses the squirming shape lunge upward.

He snatches forward blindly, and catches Jay's wrist.

He pulls.

There's nothing to brace his feet against, and he plunges under.

No. No, he doesn't.

His free hand cleaves frantically through water, driving him upward, yanking fiercely at Jay's wrist.

Nope, he rails at the water, at whatever thing is holding Jay underneath, you're letting him go. You're letting him go now.