"John!" Frantic, Virgil yells from the bank top, eyes darting across the surface of the river. He's looking for a flash of colour from John's hair, his clothing: anything that would stand out from the swirl of foam. It doesn't look like there are any rocks immediately below them, but there are enough scattered elsewhere to churn the water fiercely, obscuring the riverbed.
There! Something that isn't a log surfaces and waves a gloved hand.
Virgil scutters along the bank taking his eyes off the water only in fits and starts as needed to prevent falling on his face in the undergrowth, desperate not to lose sight of his brother. He kicks up rocks and branches in his haste, barely catching himself from tripping and sending clumps of earth tumbling into the water.
How fast is the river flowing? Faster than a man can run? John would know, or would be able to work it out. Virgil's trying to remember the course of the river and praying that there are no waterfalls in the area. He can't recall, damnit, but doesn't let uncertainty slow him.
Virgil's heart leaps into his throat when he sees the bundle of clothing that is John catch onto a branch protruding from land to water. He picks up the pace, pushing through bushes and pulling on tree trunks for every bit of speed he can muster.
Chest heaving from the sprint Virgil skids to a spot above where John is hanging on, clutching tight to the half-fallen pine tree that is his salvation. Unfortunately, at that point the bank was almost six feet high; the crumbling dirt deeply undercut by years of flood water. If Virgil were to try and climb down he would have no way back up, if he didn't bring half the bank with him. Virgil watches with a lump in his throat as the rushing water pressing against his brother, ducking his head and pushing him down for a few frightful seconds before he's able to surfaces.
"Hold on!" Virgil shouts, flinging himself to the ground, head and shoulders hanging out above the river, cold spray just reaching to dampen his hair. Reaching down as far as he can he sees how awkwardly John has caught one arm around the tree branch, so it rests in the crook of his elbow.
"Grab on."
John meets Virgil's eyes, and then glances at his outstretched hand, still some distance away. A surge of water rocks the branch and ducks John's head again. John comes up gasping but the tree droops ominously, it's muddy anchor into the earth becoming more precarious, lowering him even further into the water.
John brings his free hand to his mouth, using his teeth to pull off his woollen glove finger by finger. Gecko gloves these were not and the sodden wool will offer no grip at all. John lets it drift away in the current, having already lost his hat and thrusts his bare hand up. Their fingertips just miss each other.
Virgil shuffles forward a little more, stretching further. Their fingertips brush and a clod of dislodged earth barely misses hitting John in the face.
John meets his eyes again, and Virgil recognises the distinctive brand of Tracy determination that won't ever let them stop trying. With a supreme effort John surges upwards out of the water, just a couple of inches, but it's enough for their hands to meet and grasp firmly.
That's the easy part. Now all Virgil's got to do is lift his brother up. It's a vertical lift, with no leverage, with no equipment. John doesn't look it but he's heavy, all toned muscle from his carefully calorie controlled space diet, and weighed down with sodden clothing. There is no amount of practice – in the gym or on the training course, that could have prepared Virgil for this moment, but he's not going to let his brother down. He digs his toes into the rocky ground, flings his other arm out as a counter leaver and pulls, raising John up out of the water.
"Climb." He gets out through gritted teeth, feeling John grab onto a handful of jacket sleeve, then onto his shoulder and along his back. With a final heave and a fist tight around John's waistband, Virgil pulls John fully back from the edge and rolls away himself.
It takes a few moments, massaging feeling back into his arm before Virgil can sit up. John is curled on his side, trembling so much he's almost blurred, coughing so hard he's almost retching.
"You hurt? John? You hurt? Hit your head?" Virgil crawls close, running practiced hands over John's body, searching for broken bones, head wounds or bleeding. If he's got no more than bruises it will be some sort of miracle but Virgil can't find anything that needs immediate treatment. "I think you're alright. I can hardly believe it, but I think you're alright."
John still hasn't said anything, but obviously not by choice if the heavy shivers and chattering teeth are anything to go by. The river is not just spring fed; there will be a good amount of snow melt in there at this time of year and the water temperature surely well below freezing. Virgil strips off John's other glove, and manhandles him out upright and out of his woollen sweater. John is trying to help, but his movements are jerky and uncoordinated, almost elbowing Virgil in the face trying to remove his arms from sleeves. The clothing is dripping freezing water as Virgil pulls it off, dropping it carelessly to the ground. He takes off his own outer layer, forcing John's arms in to the coat. It's not ideal, but it's the best he can do right now.
The sun is almost set, the light leaking into dusk and the temperature dropping even further. Clouds of mist rise in front of their faces with each breath. Virgil used to love days like this, when they would pretend to be fierce dragons or brave knights. Today it just means that he has to get John to warmth, and quickly. They had started about a mile from the cabin, but are now at least half a mile further away.
"Can you walk?" Gets a shaky nod, though John is pale, almost gray, jaw clenched tight against the cold. Virgil staggers slightly as he gets to his feet, pulling John up with him. He makes sure one of John's arms is over his shoulder for support. Balancing his unsteady brother, and cursing leaving his comms behind Virgil starts them on the long walk to the cabin.