Chapter 10

AN: I bet you thought I'd take another few years to update, huh? Well, no, I'm updating now. And I will probably update again before next week. I actually have this fic roughly finished—and by roughly, I mean, I need to do some SERIOUS revising and editing. It looks like there will be two more chapters, and then I'm going to write an epilogue. Sound good?

Jamie's POV

It was determined that they would start a search party for Nudge at dawn the next day. The blizzard didn't seem to be stopping any time soon, and they needed to rest before performing a full-scale search party.

To me, this sounded like a heaping pile of BS.

"She could be dying as we speak!" I cried. "I don't care if it's the worst blizzard Antarctica has ever seen, we need to go find her!"

Max, who had regained her composure almost immediately, eyed me levelly. "Nudge might not be talkative anymore, but she's still smart. She has a great deal of common sense. She knows what to do when caught in a blizzard. To be completely honest, I wouldn't be surprised if she was back before the morning, anyway. She's probably just making a point."

"I'm not going to gamble her life on maybes and probablies," I snapped. "You said it yourself that it's not safe out there, and then you said she'd be fine. Either it's so safe that we should be able to go find her right now without a problem, or it's so unsafe that she's in serious danger."

"Nudge is smart," Max repeated. She held up a hand when I tried to protest. "She wouldn't leave during a blizzard, despite her emotions. It was probably clear when she left, meaning she would have time to find a place to hunker down and wait out the blizzard. If we went looking for her now, in the middle of it, we could all get hurt."

I stared at her steadily, but I knew I would not win the argument. It didn't even matter what we were arguing about. If I were trying to convince her that my first name was Jamie, I would lose. She had a certain authority and tenacity that nobody could win against.

"Fine," I muttered. "We better leave first thing in the morning, though."

"We will."

I nodded. Dinnertime came and I ate my food without tasting it. All I could think was, this is my fault. If I hadn't figured her out, she would still be sulking up in her room right now, not sulking somewhere in the frozen tundra of Antarctica.

People began dropping like flies after dinner time, hurrying away to their rooms to get a good night's rest—rest that would probably never come to most of them.

I stayed sitting in the living room. Melanie and Wanda both came to say good night, and that they knew we'd find Nudge without a problem, before they went to bed. Soon, it was only me in the living room—oh, and Juan, who sat by the fireplace reading.

It was obvious that I wasn't going to wait until the morning. I wouldn't be able to sleep, anyway.

First things first, I needed crutches, even if I had to make them myself. I figured I'd ask Juan if they had any lying around before I went ripping up dining chairs.

"Um…Juan?" I whispered. He glanced up and smiled a little. "I was wondering if you guys had any—"

"No hablo ingles bien," He said sadly. I grimaced and wracked my brain, trying to remember what Spanish I knew. Sharon had taught me the basics a while ago.

"Ah…me duele mi pie," I said slowly. It meant, 'I hurt my foot.' I wasn't sure how to say ankle. Or crutches. "No puedo caminar," I continued. 'I can't walk.' "Tienes…una cosa…para ayudar?" 'Do you have a thing to help?'

I hoped he would get the gist.

"Muletas?" He wondered. I nodded absently, hoping we were on the same page. "Si, tenemos muletas en el armario." He pointed to a coat-closet on the other side of the room. I hopped over to it and opened the door. After moving some things around, I found two metal crutches leaning against the back wall.

Convenient.

"Gracias!" I said to Juan as I used the crutches to hop up the stairs. Once I got to the room I was staying in, I grabbed my backpack and began stuffing it with what I thought I would need for my escapade. Blankets, sweatshirts, scarves, anything that would fit. Then I put on almost every other article of clothing I owned. I left my coat, deciding in the moment to steal somebody else's since mine was ripped.

I waited until I heard Juan shuffle up to his room before I hobbled out of my room. It was extremely hard to walk, bound tightly with my countless layers, and on crutches nonetheless. I didn't care, though. If I could find Nudge, it would be worth it.

The lights were all off downstairs, but it was still light out. It was summer here in Antarctica; it was always light.

Light does not mean sunny, though. The sky outside was overcast, and though the storm had gotten a little better, it was still extremely windy. I put on Doc's jacket—Ian's and Jared's would be too big even with my layers—and carefully pulled the door open.

I shut it softly behind me, and I was outside.

I was grateful for the ski-goggles I had thought to put on, because if I didn't have every part of my body covered, I was sure I would not get three steps—or hops, rather—out the door. Tiny flecks of snow whipped through the wind and bombarded my face. I was comfortable for the moment, though, having every inch of my skin covered by at least two layers.

I stood right outside the door for a few moments, wondering what I would do if I was Nudge. I remembered the way she had flown with the birds in the morning—was it just this morning?—and started off in that direction.

It was an agonizingly slow progression. I would plant my crutches carefully, and then rock my body forward hard enough to beat the wind. I toppled over a few times, feeling like Ralphie from the Christmas Story, but eventually found the right pace for me and began moving steadily.

I kept my head down when I moved forward, but constantly stopped to look around.

I had been at it for about twenty minutes when I caught a glimpse of a dark form through all the white. I squinted and rubbed some water off my goggles.

The wind had momentarily died down, and I could see her moving. There was a rocky face of a cliff, covered mostly in white snow, with a few gray specs. At the top was Nudge, crawling into a cave-type area.

Of course she had to be at the top of cliff.

I set the crutches on the ground and took a deep breath. The raw air scraped at my throat, so I closed my mouth and gulped. I was going to climb.

I placed each of my hands on the cliff's side, and found a foothold for my good foot. Slowly, I began to make my way up, using all of the upper-body strength I could muster. I remembered telling Nudge that I'd gotten strong, working in the caves, and I hadn't been lying. It was a great test of my strength, pulling my body—clad in all its layers, and with a backpack full of stuff—up the cliff.

My arms trembled, and if it weren't so cold I was sure I would be sweating. I'd just about had it when I suddenly found myself on the top of the cliff.

Nudge didn't even notice me.

The rocks and ice had ended up creating an indent, a small cave, if you will. Nudge was sitting in it with her hands wrapped tightly around her knees and her head buried in her arms. She was shaking softly.

I crept closer, dragging myself through the snow with my Jell-o-like arms.

"Nudge?" I uttered when I was close enough. She froze, and slowly lifted her head.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded in a thick voice. Her face was wet with tears, and her eyes were bloodshot. My heart gave a little tug.

"I'm apologizing," I murmured, pulling my scarf away from my mouth so that I could talk, and pushing the goggles on top of my head. "I'm sorry for bothering you, for invading your privacy and everything. If you come back, I'll leave you alone."

She stared at me for a few moments, as if she didn't quite understand what I was saying. I knew she hadn't expected it.

"Um, apology accepted," she muttered. "Now, can you leave me alone like you said you would?"

"Not until you come back."

She cocked her head to the side. "Where are the others?" she wondered, ignoring what I'd said. I could tell by the way that she was shivering gently that she was cold and uncomfortable, but I also knew that if I came any closer she might just run past me and take off.

"They were going to come looking for you in the morning."

"Why are you here now? Who'd you come with?"

"Nobody. I'm alone. I'm here now because I couldn't wait until morning," I explained, not meeting her gaze.

"Why?" She asked incredulously. "That's so stupid. You're an idiot. You have a sprained ankle, and even if you didn't, nobody in their right mind would go off alone."

"Maybe I'm not in my right mind," I said calmly.

"I'll say," she scoffed.

"So, are you going to come back now?"

She narrowed her eyes, an expression I'd seen too many times on her. "No, I'm not going to come back. I don't know why you decided to come looking for me on your own. That was the stupidest thing you've done yet. But it's not my problem. I'm not leaving."

"Why?" I demanded.

"Because I like being alone," she said in a voice colder than the air.

"Well I'm not leaving until you do," I said indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You'll be here a while."

"I don't care."

"Look at you. You're tired. You can't stay awake forever, and the moment you fall asleep I could take off. Then you'd be stuck here alone."

"It would suck if you took off," I agreed. "And I'm not going to try to stay awake forever. Giving up and being beaten are two totally different things, though. And anyway, you've got to sleep too."

"You're stupid," she said for the hundredth time. "You're going to be the death of yourself."

"I hope not."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from me. Her shivering seemed more violent now that I got a chance to study her. Pulling the backpack off of my back, I began digging through it in search of a blanket. When I found it, I threw it at her. She sat up, looking a little surprised, and then glanced back at me. I half expected her to say that she didn't need my help and throw it back, but she didn't.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Something was changing, and I could feel it.

"You're welcome."

She laid down, unbuttoning her hood and using it as a pillow, pulling the blanket over her. I knew she was tired.

I yanked another blanket out of my bag and laid down. My hood didn't come off, so I rested my head on the half-empty backpack. I tried to stay awake, but sleep consumed me almost instantly.

Nudge's POV

I fell asleep easily, despite the cold. Jamie's soft, even breathing had somehow lulled me to sleep.

I still couldn't believe he had hiked here all by himself. It was dangerous even for me to be off on my own, and I was a mutant. When I saw him, I was sure he was going to bug me more and ask me to spill my feelings, but nothing was as surprising to me as when he opened his mouth and said he was sorry. I felt a little guilty about being to mean to him.

I woke up after a dreamless sleep, and something was off. I didn't feel the same as when I fell asleep, and it took me a few minutes before I realized it was because Jamie had his arms locked around me. He was snoring gently into the back of my head; I could feel his warm breath on my neck.

Every cell in me screamed to pull away, to push him off of me, run to the edge of the cliff and fly off. But when I lifted my head, craned it around and peaked at his face, I knew I couldn't.

With his eyes shut and his mouth slightly ajar, all his muscles relaxed, he looked so peaceful. He looked like a little, innocent child. The small amount of guilt I'd felt earlier escalated with a vengeance, and my stomach felt weird.

Damn hormones.

"Nudge," he murmured. It took me a second to realize that he was still asleep. My eyes widened; he was dreaming about me. "Nudge, be…happy."

My breathing sped up. The guilt had now turned into full-on self hatred. He wasn't bugging me just for the sake of bugging me. He sincerely wanted me to be happy.

I wanted to hit something, to scream, to open my wings and fly away from any sort of drama, but it was simply impossible. As much as I wanted Jamie to be a total dick, he was a good kid. He really was, deep down, and I couldn't tell how I felt about that.

I knew there was a lot of guilt there for being mean, but then there was anger for feeling guilty. I thought it was sort of sweet, in a psychotic kind of way, for him to come looking for me, yet I hated him for it. I liked that he gave me a blanket, but I disliked that it meant I was accepting help. It was a confusing time, as you can imagine.

I scooted away from him a little and turned so that I was facing him, but his arm was still draped around my torso. I didn't move it. For some completely unfathomable reason, some reason I could not explain even to myself…I liked it there.

A warm tear slid down my cheek before I could blink it back.