One step. Two step. Three steps in a meter, and only a thousand meters in a kilometer. Not far at all. "You're doing fine."
Ban wasn't sure if Ginji were listening to that mantra; he wasn't even sure if he were still saying it aloud. The bitter wind had stolen his voice...steps ago. A lot of steps. They were walking--if you could call it that, by this point--in the curving path of the snowmobile's tracks; he was just lucid enough to be able to follow that trail. Eventually it would reach the lodge. They would. Another step. Another.
With the wind dying down again, there was absolutely nothing to hear out here at all. He would have thought they would make more noise, walking through the snow. --Or would be, if they were walking, but somehow he was sitting, cross-legged, couldn't even feel his twisted ankle. Ice was good for pulled muscles, and the snow was as soft as it looked, molded to his bottom like a fine leather couch. Ginji was lying down, legs bent under him and head against Ban's chest.
"Ginji." He wasn't moving, impossible to tell if his chest were still rising and falling under the parka. "Ginji!" Ban could hardly recognize that rasp as his own voice. "Dammit, Ginji, come on, shit, Ginji, please don't do this..."
Ginji groaned, piercing in the stillness, turned his face into Ban's parka, crabby as if he were being woken up too early in the morning. Ban might have laughed. "You gotta get off me, you idiot," he told his partner, "we gotta get up..." It was too damn comfortable just to sit here. With his arms around Ginji he could feel him breathe, the shallowest of rhythms.
His gaze drifted across the landscape, the snowy peaks oddly remote, as if they were in a gallery looking at a painting of a mountainside. Silvery light washed down from the charcoal sky, spattered with dancing specks--it had started snowing, he realized. The first flakes had already collected on them, a dusting over their dark coats. Unaccountably irritated, he brushed that smattering off Ginji.
It would cover the snowmobile's trail, soon enough. Ban traced those faint lines with his eyes, his vision wavering, or else it was the moonlight, scattered by the thick clouds. Winding up the mountainside, to the dark block of the lodge, sharp white light porch light undercut by the golden squares of the windows...
He blinked. Blinked again, but it remained, a solid mirage, nestled in the snowy slope amid the tall shadows of trees. Not even a kilometer away. Maybe not even half that. "Ginji!"
Shaking him got not even a groan this time. When Ban tried to push his partner off his legs, he sank into the snow as if into a featherbed. "Let's go, Ginji..." The snow was falling harder now. Not loud like rain; silent as the grave and as damningly peaceful.
So the rustle was only as loud as the proverbial dropped pin, but just as audible. He twisted around, saw white against white, movement contrary to the snowflakes' flight, and the glitter of round dark eyes. A snow rabbit, peering at them curiously from a safe distance.
A snow rabbit was an animal, he realized, with a burst of insight that didn't feel anywhere near as obvious as he knew it ought to. There were few things he could think of that were more embarrassing than being rescued by the damn monkey trainer. But freezing to death in sight of shelter happened to be one of them. "Get him, dammit!" he railed at the creature, his attempted shout hoarse as a whisper. "Go get him--tell that bastard Beastmaster his emperor's freezing here!"
One of the rabbit's long ears twitched.
Ban groped in the snow, closed his numb fingers around a clump and chucked it in the animal's direction. "Get him now!"
The rabbit hopped back, twitched its other ear. For a moment it only continued to watch him; then, as he fumbled for another snowball, it turned tail and bounded up the slope, leaving them to the silence.
He was fairly certain he made several attempts to stand after that, progressively less successful, and was considering crawling when a loud noise rang out over the slope. Didn't quite recognize it, and yet it sounded oddly familiar. Then something rubbed against his face, ticklish as the ruff of his parka, accompanied by snuffling, and another echoing retort.
This time it was matched by a shout. "Mozart!"
He opened his eyes as the dog barked again, before bounding over him to nuzzle Ginji. Then his line of sight was interrupted by a silhouette, bulky in a thick coat. "Midou?"
Two silhouettes, and he thought he was seeing double again, but one was considerably shorter than the other. "Ban-san?"
"'bout time you got here," he muttered, but he had no heat left even for the usual irritation, and the last of his strength drained away with relief as he watched Shido crouch to pick up Ginji, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack.
"Ban-san," Madoka was saying, distant for all her urgency. "Can you walk? Please, get up..."
She sounded an awful lot like Ginji, that same worry, piercing enough to shatter crystal. He tried to oblige her but his legs disagreed. Then a strong hand closed around his glove and ungently hauled him up, and Madoka slipped under his arm, a crutch of reeds, bending under his weight, but not breaking. On his other side, Shido said, "Hold onto my shoulder, Midou."
"Dammit..." But he did.
"Madoka, you have him?"
"Yes, Shido-san," and then they were hobbling through the snow, rather faster than they had been. He tried to remember to move his legs but it was difficult to keep up with them. He was vaguely impressed by Madoka's speed over snow she couldn't even see, especially since he suspected she was carrying more of his mass than his own legs were. When he looked he could see Mozart pacing close to her other side, ears lowered against the cold, barking occasional encouragement.
The light outside the lodge was blinding, and he lost track of things in the confusion of the light and the noise--someone asking questions--their client, maybe, yeah, we have it, but he couldn't think of how to say that. There seemed to be a lot of questions floating in the air, like the snow, which wasn't falling in here. Seeing as they were inside. Made sense. When he tipped back his head he could see the rough wood rafters shielding them. After the dead gray quiet of the mountainside this was too loud, too bright, the browns and golds and reds and greens blurring into a riotous swirl that made his head pound worse than ever.
Hands tugged at his parka, the zipper whispering as it was yanked down, and he swatted them back, only to have them immediately resume their efforts, with more force, along with a low growl, "Dammit, snake bastard, this isn't a fight." The parka was pulled off, and then a heavy blanket was draped over his shoulders and bundled around him as if he were a fragile vase being wrapped for shipping. Impossible to push it aside; he could barely move his arms at all, enveloped as they were within it.
A figure loomed over him, backlit by dancing orange hellfire and obscure. Ban coiled back, bracing himself to lunge, knock him down and fight his way free, but a hard grip on his shoulder through the blanket pressed him into the cushions of the chair. "Midou, calm down. It's just me."
"M-monkey t-trainer?" His teeth were chattering so hard he could hardly speak, made him sound like a two year old cowering from monsters under the covers.
"Drink this." A cup was brought toward his mouth, faint wisps of steam rising from the golden liquid. He shook his head, twisted back.
"Midou," the Beastmaster sighed, "it's just herbal tea. You're hypothermic, you need heat and you need fluids. It's safe, see?" He took a sip himself.
Ban shook his head again. "W-wha--" He tried to surge up, but Shido's hand on his shoulder prevented him. "G-ginji--where's--" Didn't make sense, that Shido would be helping him, not when Ginji needed it--didn't he know Ginji had been out there, too? "Ginji, he--"
"Madoka and Yokomori are seeing to him--look, see? Right there."
He could see the two of them, only just out of reach, but all there seemed to be of his partner was a shock of yellow hair, the spikes drooping like they were soaked, under a pile of blankets on a cot pulled close to the fireplace. "Ginji?" he called, but there was no response, and he wasn't sure if his shaking voice even carried that far.
"He'll be all right, okay, Midou? Worry about yourself now."
But the monkey trainer didn't sound entirely convinced himself. "Why-why're you--Ginji needs--"
"I trust Madoka's care," Shido said, quiet but certain. Then added, exasperatedly, "And Ginji isn't likely to try to attack the guy trying to help him. Will you drink the damn tea, Midou?"
This time when the cup was put to his lips he opened them, sipped the hot tea, sweet with honey and ginger. His teeth clattered against the ceramic rim, but after swallowing all of it he was able to get the shivers somewhat under control, when he concentrated. His head was still pounding, but some of the haze had cleared, enough that when Shido asked, "What the hell happened to you anyway?" he snapped back an appropriate insult. Then answered more seriously, "Avalanche, right after we--shit!"
He struggled to sit up, the blanket trapping him still. "The damn recorder--it's..." He stopped before he gave it away, eyed his rival retriever.
"Deal with that later," Shido told him. "Your way got blocked? Or you were in this avalanche?"
"Buried." His shudder wasn't entirely from the cold, but hopefully the Beastmaster wouldn't notice. "Lost the snowmobiles, too. I was under it, Ginji got us out. I should be worse off, but he...that idiot, he used his electricity. Instant space heater--drained his batteries dry. So damn stupid--if he'd just gone himself he'd've been back here hours ago. Wasn't even ten kilometers."
"Midou," Shido said, slowly, "if Ginji had left you..."
"I told him to," Ban growled. "Goddamn idiot..." He craned his neck to peer over Shido's shoulder. "Is he--he awake yet?" He still couldn't see anything but the top of Ginji's head, and then Madoka knelt by the cot and cut off his view.
"You still cold?" Shido asked, instead of answering.
Ban huddled a little deeper into the blankets, stilled his clacking jaw. "What do you think, monkey trainer?"
"If you were up for it, walking around would help warm you up, but all things considered you should just rest."
Truth be told that was exactly what his body was telling him, but having the Beastmaster say it made it less appealing. "And let you find the thing, hand it over to Yokomori yourself?"
"Snake bastard, you..." Shido began to snarl, then glanced back at Madoka and just shook his head. "I'll get you more tea, then."
No sooner was Shido gone than Madoka had taken his place by his chair. "You're feeling better, Ban-san?"
He nodded, met her sightless gaze and said aloud, "Yeah," without even stuttering over it. Small miracles. "How's Ginji?"
Madoka inclined her head, smooth brow furrowing slightly. "He...Ginji-san will be okay, Ban-san."
"Of course he will." Ban wasn't sure who he really was answering. "He's--he's strong. Just plug him into this place's generator..."
"Would that really work, Ban-san?"
"Actually it might." Shido was back, another mug in hand. "Here. Can you manage it yourself?"
"Madoka-chan could help me," Ban suggested, essaying a smirk at the Beastmaster.
"I could," Madoka agreed brightly.
"Or I could empty it over your sea urchin head," Shido replied.
"Fine, fine, give it over, monkey trainer." Just holding the mug in his hands was a delicious treat, the warmth leeching through to melt the ice in his marrow of his bones. He quaffed the tea in a couple long swallows, closed his eyes to enjoy the heat sliding down his throat. When he was done he pried up his lids, but the gleam of the lamp over the fireplace hurt his throbbing skull and he shut them again, leaned back in the chair.
Shido and Madoka had rejoined Yokomori by Ginji's cot. Only just out of arms' reach, but their low voices were only an indistinguishable murmur. He tried to listen to what they were saying, but didn't catch more than his partner's name. But Ginji was going to be all right. He would know otherwise.
Ban didn't feel the mug slip from his fingers, drifting as he was in a soft, comfortable place where it was, finally, warm.
to be concluded
Glad everyone's enjoying it - I like making my fellow fangirls happy ^_^ And Mari, re: the physics of Ginji - I don't mind the advice, hard science is not my thang. I wasn't sure if microwaves would do the trick, especially since they only penetrate a few centimeters; I didn't think infrared sounded quite right, but wasn't sure what would be best. Maybe it wasn't microwaves or infrared, but Ginji didn't know the name for what he did do, so just guessed on the words... ^^;;;