Title: Burning Bright

Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos.

A/N: A pointless ficlet. Beta'ed by sockie1000. Someday soon I'll post something longer :)

Summary: It's Siberia. And we've been stranded with hope of rescue still hours - maybe days - away.

-o-

The sky is dark, thick with clouds, squelching any possible moonlight. Michael shifts, huddling down closer to the ground and drawing his arms tighter around his chest while he lets the heat of the flame warm his face.

"This isn't so bad," Billy says, bundled up beside him. He sniffs loudly, shivering minutely even as the flames flicker higher. "Really, it's rather scenic."

"It's Siberia," Michael replies candidly. "And we've been stranded with hope of rescue still hours - maybe days - away."

"But we have a lovely fire," Billy points out, nodding toward the flames. "And I know Casey and Rick; they'll move heaven and earth to get here faster."

Michael doesn't reply right away. It's not his job to play the pessimist; normally, he lets the rest of his team do the bickering so he can come in later with his master plan.

The problem is, of course, that Michael doesn't have a master plan. The mission went sideways and now he and Billy are stranded in Siberia with nothing but the coats on their backs and a fire. They each carry a lighter, and Billy's may be a distress beacon but Michael's is real enough. He's no boy scout, but he still believes in being prepared.

This far out, however, there's not much to burn. The barren winter landscape is devoid of usable vegetation and it took nearly fifteen minutes to get their kindling to light at all. If they hiked a bit, they might have some more luck but the snow is wet and fresh and the ground is frozen, so Michael knows they're out of options.

When the fire dies, it's gone.

That's all there is.

He rubs his hands together absently, blowing in them before holding them up to the precious heat. "Yeah," he agrees finally, feeling sort of lame.

"Besides," Billy says, nudging him slightly. "We've still got each other. That's not so bad now, is it?"

Michael chuckles. "Sentimentality won't save us, Collins."

"No," Billy says. "But it will make the time pass more pleasantly."

To that, Michael has no argument. He's out of plans; he's out of moves. All that's left is Billy, the fire, and a lingering bit of undying hope amongst the growing desperation.

Sighing, he reaches back and pulls another chunk of their scant woodpile and throws it on the flame. It catches and sizzles, sending small embers fluttering into the heavy snow.

Billy lifts his eyebrows.

Michael shrugs. "Might as well be comfortable while we can," he says.

Because he could time it out, he could strategize the elements, but this time, it's not going to make a difference. If Casey and Rick get there tomorrow, he and Billy will survive this. They might lose a toe or two, but they'd be okay. If their teammates don't show up...

Well, a few extra hours of warmth won't make up for that.

A smile spreads across Billy's face. "Aye," he says, and settles back. "Might as well."

Michael sits back as well, pressing slightly against his teammate to feel his body heat and share his warmth and his hope in equal turns. Together, they sit and watch the flame, burning bright through the night with the promise of rescue in the morning.

If that isn't what's coming, this time, Michael doesn't need to know.