And it hurts me to think that you might never know

I stood stock still for a second, fearing what that single white glove implied. Why was the hand protruding from a snowdrift, and yet not moving?

Then my brain started to work again, and I moved as quickly as I could up the slope (which admittedly, wasn't very fast with my frozen fingers and toes) toward that small white glove. My hands scrabbled for hold, practically tearing chunks of rock loose from the mountainside in my frantic haste to reach it.

How long had it been since the mecha exploded? I was nearly freezing out in the storm, and if Jun were buried in the snow… was she even conscious?

It seemed like I was fighting my way through molasses as I climbed, my movements excruciatingly slow, while my panicked brain attempted to grasp exactly how long Jun could have lain there, under that deceptively beautiful blanket of white.

I got closer, fighting every inch of the way as my knee screamed in protest. But the screaming in my soul drowned out the physical pain I was experiencing. The howling of the wind receded in my mind, the bitter cold of the snow faded from my consciousness, as I became entirely focused on reaching the Swan.

After a long time… too long a time… I was finally able to grasp the hand. There was no doubt that it was Jun's glove. I knew her Birdstyle as well as I knew my own; better, in fact, because I stared at her a lot more than I stared at myself in a mirror. I pulled, attempting to free her from the snow, but she didn't budge.

I wasn't certain whether she had been frozen into the snow bank, or whether my strength was just so diminished that I was unable to use sufficient force to get her out. I moved closer; bracing myself and taking a deep breath before attempting again.

She moved. A sense of relief washed over me, fueling my second wind. I dug down into the snow with my gloved hands, then pulled again, holding onto her upper arm. Jun's body moved a little more, but I had to repeat the process again and again, digging and pulling, digging and pulling… over and over until finally I had her entire upper body free. Her eyes were closed, and her face was an ashen color.

With nervous trepidation, I felt for a pulse at the base of her throat.

There was nothing there.

I choked, not willing to believe what I was seeing. I yanked off my glove, feeling again.

Something was there. It was very faint, enough so that I hadn't felt it through my stiff, soaked glove, but it was definitely a pulse.

I smiled in desperate relief.

"I'm here, Jun." I said, pulling her body toward mine. "You're safe, now."

Snow was packed underneath her visor and against the upper part of her face. Gently I scraped it out, as I watched the nearly imperceptible rising and falling of her chest.

She was alive… but for how long?

I continued working to remove her legs from the snow bank, digging around her, speaking to the Swan the entire time. I knew that she couldn't hear me, but the constant chatter made me feel better, and took my mind off of the terrible reality of the situation.

"Everything is going to be just fine, Jun. You'll see. Any moment now I'll be able to contact Ryu, and we'll be picked up by the God Phoenix. Tonight you'll be back at the Snack, and I'll bring you some hot chocolate. I know how you love hot chocolate. Let Jinpei take care of you for a change. Joe and Ryu and I will help. It's going to be just fine…"

My voice trailed off as I finally broke Jun free from the crust of ice that had formed around her legs. My fingers were numb, particularly on my gloveless hand, but somehow I managed to clumsily drag her body against mine, wrapping my wings around her so that they encompassed us both.

As cold as I was, Jun felt even colder. Her skin was like ice against my bare hand. Part of me had always appreciated the teasing glimpses of bare skin that Jun showed underneath her Birdstyle, but now I was cursing the ISO uniform designers who had left her body needlessly exposed to the elements.

There was no response from Jun. Not a sigh, not a groan, not a flutter of her eyelids. It was almost as if… But I couldn't let myself think that way. Jun was going to recover. She had to.

Because if she didn't recover, I would never have a chance to tell her certain things. Things I had put off, always assuming that there would be another time to say them… a better time.

But… what if there were no more times… no more opportunities to tell Jun these important things? Things she needed to know.

Things I needed her to know.

Jun couldn't be dead. I wouldn't let her be dead. If I had any power at all, as the mighty Gatchaman, I could prevent it…

In the back of my mind, I knew that these thoughts weren't entirely rational, and I recognized that I was already grieving for my teammate, while simultaneously attempting to save her.