John tinkered for maybe half an hour. Virgil kept quiet for as long as possible to let him concentrate. Virgil could strip, clean and rebuild an engine quicker than any of the others, but micro circuits were not usually his thing. He could do it if he had to, but this was really John's element and he thrived on code and capacitors.

The silence ate at Virgil though, as much as the cold did and he felt the need to talk as a distraction. He was shivering constantly now, icy tendrils wrapped around his limbs and creeping in to his veins. He could see it was having a similar affect on John in the way his fingers fumbled in their delicate work and the way he was having to be careful that this moisture from his breath didn't mist onto the intricate circuits.

Virgil broke the silence.

"What were we meant … to see at this fancy observatory that we couldn't … see at home, anyway?" Speech halting as he shivered.

"More."

"More?"

"Yes. The unique combination of geology means a lot less electrical interference, so the images from the deep space telescopes are 0.7% clearer."

"Wow. 0.7% eh?"

"I know, amazing right?" John either ignored or didn't notice Virgil's sarcasm. More likely he was ignoring it. One of the little known traits of people from large families was being able to ignore a jibe from an annoying sibling.

"I'm done" John said at last "We'll have maybe a twenty second flare."

"That's…. not very ….. long."

The other sighed. "I know, but it's the best I can do. It's not exactly like I have a lot of resources." He rubbed his eyes, strained from the intense work in difficult conditions. "How are you doing?"

"Peachy." Virgil was clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.

"Here, sit up a bit." John helped Virgil lift his shoulders, trying to keep his lower body still. It took a bit of shuffling and a few painful grunts from the both but when they were finished Virgil was resting against John instead of the hard packed floor. John had the dubious honour of leaning against the one wooden wall that would be only marginally less cold than the others.

"Any better?"

Virgil knew that John was objectively speaking not very warm, but subjectively it was like leaning against a furnace.

"Much. Thank you. I'm not ... hurting your ribs am I?" Virgil twisted to try and look at his brother, but could really only see an ear.

"Not if you. Sit. Still." John replied through gritted teeth, his ear clearly expressing both pain and exasperation.

Virgil sat back, reluctantly but gratefully leaning into John's wiry frame to share what little warmth theu had, tucking John's coat tightly around them both.

"How long until we were…. due to be ...picked up?"

"Maybe another four hours. Obviously less if they get reports from the observatory about the avalanche. How's the pain?"

"Can you do anything about it?"

"No."

"Then let's not discuss it." Virgil had a headache pounding behind his eyes. He had been unconscious for a little while so that was probably the source. Various bumps and bruises promised to restrict his movement in about twenty four hours, but fortunately he thought he had only one brake. Unfortunately his femur had moved enough to pierce the skin before John had carefully moved it back into it's rightful position. They had done what they could with the contents of their pockets but there was nothing to negate the sharp stab of torn muscle or the deep ache of a broken bone. The rudimentary setting had caused Virgil to shout and swear and sweat and he wasn't going to put himself through that again.

"Shit it's cold. I wish I was in my uniform." John spoke softly, trembling at his back, perhaps hoping Virgil couldn't hear. But he could hear everything. This space was only slightly longer than they were tall, and not high enough to stand. There was no hiding here.

This hadn't been International Rescue business so they had come in their civvies. That meant that John's thin yet strong and perhaps more importantly heavily insulated space suit was hanging up in his wardrobe at home.

"If we're wishing for... things I could do with a heater."

Now that John was behind him Virgil couldn't see his expression, but guessed it held some level of amusement as he said "I think I'm going to need bigger pockets for all the things... I have suddenly decided are essential."

"Like what?"

"A snow shovel. Rope. An inflatable tent. A shot of morphine. Spare processors. An actual flare gun. A thermal blanket. No, two thermal blankets." John listed.

"Do you …. want your jacket back?"

"No, you keep it." It went unsaid that Virgil was in more danger right now: he was the only one who had lost blood and that could be the difference between life and death. John did snake his arms around though, so they were crossed over Virgil's chest, hand under the jacket that was the only insulation they both had.