Scott shook his head in disbelief. "You have really warped priorities, you know that?" he bit out. He tightened his grip on his brother and started trying to inch himself backwards. He could feel John trying to squirm himself upwards. "Stop moving," he said curtly.
"I'm trying to help," John said. He sounded short of breath.
"You're making it hard to hold onto you."
They both lay still for moment, breathing hard.
"I'm getting sort of dizzy," Scott said.
"Yeah," John said.
Scott closed his eyes and opened them again. No difference. Tendrils of panic began to push at his mind. Being stuck down here for hours. Slowly suffocating. He couldn't let himself think like this.
"You know what's weird?" John said. "This is basically the complete opposite of outer space, but it's actually pretty similar. Complete and total darkness. No oxygen."
"John…"
"No stars, though. But I am seeing all these cool patterns. Like the patterns behind your eyelids, except my eyes are open. Not that it makes a difference."
"Shhh…" Scott said. John was quiet for a moment.
"How long do you think it would take for Dad to notice that we haven't come back?"
"You mean to start worrying? I don't know. Not until dinnertime, probably." Scott said. Hours. The rest of the day.
"I think you should go and get Dad," John said.
"I'm not leaving you down here by yourself," Scott said. He hear John let out his breath in exasperation.
"It's either me down here with the chance of us getting rescued or both of us down here with no chance," John said. "I vote for the first one."
"Can you hold on that long?" Scott asked.
"Sure," John said, but there was the briefest of hesitations. Scott shook his head.
"No way. I'm not leaving you to die down here."
John snorted. "Don't be so dramatic. I'm not going to die."
"You can't hold on for an hour or more," Scott told him.
"What is it with you?" John exploded. "Just because you can't do something doesn't mean nobody else can do it! If I have to hold on for five hours, I'll hold on! And if you think I can't, then why didn't you do the smart thing and go get some help instead of coming down here thinking you're Superman or something?"
"Well excuse me for trying to save your stupid life!"
"Who's saved?" John retorted. "If you hadn't…Scott!"
Scott could feel him lurch downward. One shoulder slipped out of his grasp and he lunged his arm forward and grabbed a handful of John's hair. John stopped sliding and Scott tightened the grip on his shoulder. He could feel John trembling.
"Okay," John whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Shh." Scott said. "I got you."
Tears were beginning to form at the corners of John's eyes. He felt like his hair was being pulled out by the roots, but he was more worried about the fact that he was more over the bend of the pipe than on it. He scrabbled his feet frantically on the pipe until he found the tiniest bit of purchase. He began to try to push himself up, squeezing the air out of his lungs as he did so. "Pull," he gritted out to Scott, who began pulling as hard as he dared.
It was excruciating going. John felt like he was moving a millimeter at a time, and it wasn't getting any easier to breathe. His scalp was on fire. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear some echoes coming from above, indistinct and muddy.
"What's that?"
"Virgil," Scott said. He sounded very far away.
He was going to have to apologize to Virgil, John though dimly. Or at least tell him that he had been right. He'll like that.
Suddenly, heard strange sound, a bit like ice cracking, and his foot seemed to sink into the pipe. He had a foothold. He put all of his weight on it and heaved himself upward, only then thinking that he probably should have tested it first, but then he was lying half on top of his brother, one knee on the floor of the tunnel.
"Ow!" Scott's face smacked into the floor of the pipe. He heard a crack somewhere inside his head. He couldn't breathe. He could feel various organs being squashed as his brother scrambled incautiously over his back. He raised his head and touched his face. His head was spinning and his fingertips were wet.
"Virgil, hold tight!" he could hear John calling, and the sounds of him moving away. Well, hang on a second, he thought to himself confusedly. I'm still here. His mouth tasted metallic and gritty. He'd just rest a minute.