AN: So I wrote this when I was Zeta binging, and... I like it, despite myself. I gave up on it a few months back because I couldn't figure out who I wanted the villain to be. If you have any ideas, feel free to include them in the review.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing. But I do love Zeta, and would set him free if I did own it.
It's cold. So very cold.
I don't know where I am, or what time it is. I think it's late, but I can't be sure. All around is white, endless swirling white, and it blots out the color of the sky. I don't know where I am, or if I'm going in circles, or if I'm wandering towards shelter or away from it.
All I know is that I'm cold. And I'm alone.
The cold is making it difficult to function. It is sapping my power supplies and leaving my circuits sluggish, but I don't dare stop. Ro's out there. Somewhere. And I cannot find her.
I can't see properly—the snowflakes keep melting and freezing again on my ocular sensors, blurring my vision. Every few moments I have to adjust the contrast to compensate for the blinding brightness of the snow. All I can hear is the howling of wind, the cracking of ice on my joints, the crunch of my feet crushing snow beneath me.
Ro is nowhere to be found.
I keep moving. I know that's supposed to be a bad idea and all—let them find you, and all that—but I'm cold, and I can't feel my fingers or my toes, and I'm scared that if I stop I'll freeze to death. Digging my way through the snow is enough of a workout to make me sweat, and that's all I've got right now. I remember the stories I used to hear at the girl's home—that if you fall asleep, you'll never wake up.
The thought terrifies me into moving faster. I've almost died before—tons of times. Even more after I met Zee. But dying here, alone in this white nothingness—that scares me more than anything else. I can't stop. I won't.
I raise the volume on my voice and continue shouting for her. The area is mountainous, but the conditions are not adequate for an avalanche. That, at least, will not be a danger for her. It is a shallow comfort.
I try to calculate the variables—the temperature, the moisture in the air, the speed of the wind, the rate of snowfall—but I still cannot determine how much time I have left to find her before—
That is not true. I cannot make myself run the calculations. I enter the variables, but I do not let myself interpret them. Because if time runs out—if I am wrong—if I give up and she is still alive—
I do not feel pain, but it hurts to think of it. I continue calling out to her, but the wind whips the sounds away and scatters among the snowflakes. Useless.
I attempt a thermal scan, but all I see is cold.
My teeth hurt. It's from sucking in the cold air, I think, but really I have no idea. I just know they hurt. I'm tired—so tired—but I can't stop yet. If I stop I'll die, I keep telling myself. If I stop I'll die.
I turn back, just for a moment, just to make sure I'm still going the right way (how would I know?). My footprints are already gone, erased by the blizzard. Like I was never here. Like I never existed.
The thought makes me laugh, which makes my teeth hurt more and my throat seize up and I end up in a coughing fit. I must be going crazy. Do people go crazy right before they die? Probably helps them cope.
I look down again, and the ground is closer than it used to be. I've fallen down.
Funny, I should have felt that. But my legs are numb from wading through the slush, and I couldn't tell you if I still have any of my toes, let alone feet. No idea.
I try to pull myself up, but the snow buries my hands, stabs at my palms, makes my fingers disappear entirely into oblivion.
I can't get up.
It takes everything in my power not to start crying—the idea of dying with frozen tears stuck to my face makes me feel sick. Instead I take in a gulp of frigid air and scream:
"ZEEEEEEEE!"
I hear something, just barely audible beyond the roar of the storm. A voice. Her voice.
I take off running toward the source of the sound, desperate to find her. Praying it's not too late.
I'm so scared.
Nothing but white. I keep shouting, as loud as my power stores will let me, listening all the while for her voice. The rate of snowfall is growing less intense, and I can begin to see the outline of the terrain.
I keep yelling until my throat is raw and I cough up blood. I'm dizzy. I don't remember what I was screaming for. Nothing makes sense anymore, and I'm confused and so tired.
I need to sleep. I know I shouldn't, but I don't remember why. Besides, a little nap couldn't hurt.
Finally I see something—an anomaly in the landscape, a lump where there should be flatness, a miniscule splash of color hiding in the whiteness.
It's Ro. She's silent, still, almost entirely buried by snow. Her face is too pale, her lips are blue, and she is limp in my arms as I lift her up.
She is dying.
I open my chest cavity, exposing my internal heating element. A few snowflakes melt from her face, but she doesn't stir. I move as quickly and carefully as I can, looking for something to use as shelter. Something to block the wind and cold.
I spot a stony outcropping and nestle Ro into a corner, out of reach of the biting wind. I regret that I have no real clothes to offer—I have nothing to protect her from the snow, nothing to cover her. I crouch over her and shield her as best I can. The wind is nipping at my circuits, but I do not care: color is returning to her cheeks, and she is starting to shiver.
But there is a new problem.
I am quickly losing power. The majority of my energy is being diverted to keeping her warm; the heat is dissipating quickly and must be replaced faster than I can restore it. I am not sure how long I can keep this up. Night is falling, and an even deeper cold is settling around us.
I have an idea. I do not like it. But it is her only chance.
For the first time I deeply regret not having a cellular phone. Instead I decide on a rather crude signal. I close my chest just for a moment and unleash a splendor of light.
Ro cringes, still unconscious, as the night erupts into day. And in the distance, I can see the faint green tint of Bennett's van.
