Alex gasped at the bitter bite of potion and coughed reflexively, a fine spray of blood and potion mixing in the air. Another sharp shimmer of pain dragged him into consciousness as his body was lifted again, and he bit his lip to stifle another cry.
His chest felt like broken glass, sharp and loose, bones moving under his skin with every breath. "Can't. Breathe."
His chest was full of water. Of blood. Of pumpkin juice or butterbeer or piss, and he didn't are which, if it would go away... He managed another gasping breath, then coughed again.