Seiya
Seiya opened his eyes to a sort of dim darkness and tried to struggle up to his feet as his memory caught up with him. Something heavy was weighting down his back and his head immediately burned and throbbed almost spinning him back off the edge into unconsciousness, but Seiya was a fighter first and foremost and forced himself to hold onto his senses with an unwavering tenacity even as his body collapsed back down bonelessly to the ground, his cheek pressed once more hard against the matted floor of the Sarengay. The aching throb ebbed but did not leave entirely and the Pegasus Saint was reminded that he should be glad to have woken up at all.
Things had gotten confusing right after he had gotten onto the plane, but the last few moments stood out glaringly in his mind. The engine had been burning out and Shun had been yelling for help on the radio when a rock outcropping had broken into the front part of the plane shattering through the window. He had tried to throw himself in front of Shun—maybe the Andromeda Saint had yelled something at him…his mouth had been moving, but all Seiya could remember clearly was a wide frightened pair of blue eyes before something had hit him… Or maybe he had hit something… And then everything had gone black.
The plane wasn't moving anymore though, so they must have crashed. Then he had made it, but what about Shun? Worry for the other warrior gave Seiya the determination to try and force himself up once again, gritting his teeth against the flaring ache in his head that brought dark spots to dance in front of his already dim vision. Something bit deep into the palm that he lay against the floor but he ignored it and pushed up against the weight on his back. Something shifted above and a steady light streamed in before him illuminating the scene. The pressure on his back had lessoned and he worked the screaming muscles of his legs painfully to climb to his hands and knees. Every movement shot fire through his short form. It felt like he'd just been thrown into a ring with Thor and Aldebaran blind and neither had been very kind.
Pain wasn't about to stop him now though, especially not when he and Shun could still be in danger, and how would Shiryu and Hyoga and Ikki manage without them? One agonizing limb at a time Seiya worked himself out from beneath the blue padded seat under which he had been pinned. The floor under his hands was stained and darkened and his shirt stuck to him in sticky bunches. Crimson was certainly not a good color, but he'd had worse—he must have since he was still conscious and inching his slow way from beneath the rubble.
His last memory was up at the radio with Shun but he wasn't in the cockpit any longer and if his body was any indication, it hadn't been a pleasant journey that ended with him under the uprooted chairs of the cabin. One last bloody hand print brought him free finally of the rows of chairs that had been literally ripped free leaving scratched metal holes gaping and sharp in their wake. The front of the plane had been crushed inward at the last and a jut of rock and butt end of an uprooted tree crammed impossibly around the bent metal of what must have been the cockpit. Two rows of seats remained intact, though those nearest the isle were dented inward and it was halfway on one of these that Seiya's eyes immediately darted to the green and purple that stood out against the blue and red painted scene.
A moment ago he had wondered whether he could even stand, but confronted with Shun's unmoving body sprawled half into the unbroken seat, the Pegasus warrior found his feet beneath him even though his hands held desperately to the very pile which had buried him for support and his head spun dizzily in warning.
"Shun!" the name tore from his lips in fear. The battered warrior half limped, half ran in a flailing gait that brought him to the fallen Andromeda Saint's side before his knees gave out. Kneeling beside his companion, Seiya bent over and half turned lifting the slim figure off of the blue padding and to his lap.
"Shun!" he begged, shaking the figure lightly. "Shun…Shun!" The Andromeda Saint was alive and there didn't seem to be any blood on him, or at least any of his own blood as Seiya's hands had left bright crimson prints against the violet fleece.
"Oh Shun!" Seiya felt tears welling up in his eyes ready to spill.
"Unnn," the other Saint moaned in his arms stirring. Seiya froze perfectly still simply holding his green haired companion. Blue eyes cracked open slowly and a slight smiled touched Shun's lips.
"Seiya," it was no more than a sigh really, but pure relief was etched on his features. "You're alive! When we hit the mountain…" Shun trailed off lifting a pale hand with a delicate wince to lay on Seiya's cheek. His fingers came away red.
"Oh Seiya…" the Andromeda Saint struggled up out of the Pegasus's grasp and onto his own knees facing Seiya with a strange expression, but he was alright and that was what mattered. They were both alright…or at least, they were both alive.
Shun
Shun pulled gingerly at Seiya's dark locks trying to determine how bad the damage inflicted by the crash really was. Gingerly because his right arm hung uselessly at his side and he was not so practiced at first aid with left, but this injury needed to be seen to. It seemed to be bothering the Pegasus Saint and that was evidence enough to the green haired warrior that is wasn't good at all, but with all the blood, even dry, there was no way to tell for sure. In truth he was just glad that Seiya was even breathing—glad enough that when he had woken up in the Pegasus Saint's arms he had only been able to cry for long, long moments that had nothing to do with his own aches and pains.
Seiya's injury during the crash was the most frightening thing Shun had ever seen in his life. He'd truly thought his companion was…
But Seiya wasn't dead and that was what mattered. Even if the image of that rock outcropping coming through the window would never leave. Then the memory of Seiya throwing himself in front of Shun directly in its path as the very metal of the plane crushed inward on them, and then Seiya had been hit—literally ripped away from the Andromeda Saint and thrown backwards. Shun's fingers moved smoothing the black locks in an almost desperate manner. It wasn't good, but the Pegasus Saint was alive. That was why he'd knelt there just crying and holding onto Seiya—because he was alive when Shun had been so sure. There was nothing to be done for either of their injuries though.
Shun sat back and felt his fellow Saint relax from where he had endured the Andromeda Saint's ministrations dutifully on the dead log. Seiya was not in the best of ways and simply the fact that despite an end to Shun's examination he remained silently seated was a dead give away to any who knew the lively man. There was nothing else to be done because the First Aide materials had been in the cockpit along with the radio and anything else they might have used. The only thing that had managed to survive the crash besides the two Saints themselves was Seiya's suitcase. Amidst an entire cabin full of crushed metal and uprooted chairs the fat green bag had somehow come out without even a scratch. Its contents had been a welcome surprise.
The little silver plane had crunched against a rock outcropping before taking a nose dive through a stand of pine trees and coming to stop finally in a snow bank, though neither of them had been conscious by that point. Shun had only a vague idea of even the direction they had come from. They had no means of communication—the sweet green haired Saint had thought them saved for one elated moment upon discovering his cell phone lying unbroken in the snow. He had almost laughed and called out to Seiya but then he had picked it up. No service, it read like some sort of terrible cosmic joke. No service—no use—no help! The elation had turned to ash in his mouth and he had almost thrown the thing off into the snow covered bank in sheer frustration, but common sense held his hand and forced him to carefully hit the little black button that would cut off that torturous message and conserve what batteries were left. It made a fat bulge in his pocket, but he couldn't bear to tell Seiya—he didn't want to spread false hope.
The one godsend had been that at least they wouldn't freeze immediately. Seiya had clearly taken whoever had told him about the forecasted cold at Saori-san's company straight to heart and his suitcase had been filled with coats and sweater and pants and boots and not a single one of them actually Seiya's which Shiryu had been sure to pack and bring himself on the earlier plane. Thinking of the number of Gold Saints that would simply have to shiver or break down and buy more clothes if it got cold had almost brought a smile to his face—almost but the cold wind biting through his ripped purple fleece was enough to remind him that they would need every single one of those pilfered pieces just to survive.
Slowly, slowly, the Andromeda Saint realized, he was accustoming himself to the thought that they were going to have to make it out here. No one had ever picked up the mayday and the men that had hijacked the plane had taken them in a different direction and deep into the mountains. Hyoga and Ikki and Shiryu…they would search and search desperately, but they wouldn't even know where to begin. Shun and Seiya were on their own.
Seiya stood finally looking steadier than he had since Shun had wakened to his frightened eyes bending over him and his expression had regained some of the old flame. No matter what Seiya's actions though, Shun would remember that the Pegasus Saint had saved him at his own expense—fat chance of forgetting when there wasn't even water to wash the blood properly from the other man's face. He would take care of Seiya, Shun promised himself silently, but it was at him that the Pegasus was looking and with an almost sympathetic expression at that! Seiya's personality simply belied the other's protective impulse.
"We can't stay here Shun," Seiya's voice sounded almost apologetic. "Cause they might know where we crashed…" There was no need to specify who they were. Davenport had never been on the Sarengay. Seiya was still thinking like a warrior, but he was right and unfortunately whoever it was that wanted him and Seiya would know roughly where the plane had gone down. Shun was already nodding as he struggled up form the dead log, but that apologizing look had still not left the short Pegasus Saint's face. He looked Shun straight in the eyes too, the way he was always in the habit of doing before he said something frank. Guile was not even in Seiya's vocabulary and tact wasn't far behind.
"It's better if you just set it sooner." Seiya was the very image of concern. "Your arm I mean, Shun. I can do it," the black haired Pegasus continued on earnestly, "Shion taught me a long time ago because he thought I'd probably need to be able to set my own something someday…" He trailed off looking at Shun was a completely open expression that begged the other Saint to allow him to help.
Good start I've got taking care of Seiya, Shun thought bitterly. The pain shooting up his arm seemed to deepen at the very suggestion.
"I know I'm not a doctor…" Seiya was babbling on, "But really I…"
"It's okay," Shun cut in and this time he didn't even have to force the gentle smile—or at least not much. "I trust you Seiya."
It was quite an ordeal getting the Andromeda Saint out of the huge thick coat he had forced himself into while the shock of the crash had still dulled all of his sensations and despite the biting chill of the approaching evening he began to wish he had never seen the huge gray covering that brought tears to his eyes from the aching fire that buzzed and burned up the length of his arm with every button that Seiya carefully unsnapped. Slipping it off of the appendage finally almost made Shun faint—avoided only because how would he take care of Seiya if he passed out? No matter if tears streamed now or the Saint whimpered and moaned in a way ever he could only describe as piteous. Seiya didn't say anything though, for which Shun was grateful; only continued on as gently as possible.
The purple fleece of his last layer had already been ripped at the seam along the shoulder and the Pegasus was strong enough to tear the last hanging bit under his arm without jostling him too much. The purple material slipped easily from the slim pale arm to pile on the stark white snow. Shun couldn't bring himself to look away form the violet spread because he knew what was coming next. The Andromeda Saint bit his lip hard eyes burning as Seiya carefully fingered his slim arm lifting it carefully and studying the break for what seemed like a painful eternity—or at least Shun assumed that was what the short black haired Saint was doing…he couldn't bring himself to look.
"On three Shun." The hands took a screamingly firm grip one above his elbow and the other at his wrist. The Andromeda turned his head away squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn't even bring himself to nod, but Seiya seemed to understand.
"One…" The green haired Saint's breath grew ragged between his lips and his heartbeat quickened in helpless anticipation. "Two…"
Snap! The hands around his arm jerked suddenly once sending him spiraling dizzily for a moment and tearing a scream from his throat. Shun held onto consciousness through sheer desperation and when his eyes cleared Seiya was helping him back down to a seat on the log. His arm still throbbed but it was better somehow—not quite so jarring. But Still!
"What happened to three?" the sweet green haired Saint gasped, regaining his breath.
"Shion taught me that too," was the reply.
If Seiya had been smiling Shun would have slapped him injuries or not, but as it was, the Pegasus Saint simply regarded him with the same completely open and trying expression he had been wearing when they started and it would certainly be up to Seiya to carry anything they could bring for a long while. The Andromeda Saint couldn't even manage to put on his own coats at the moment and the day was long from over if they were going to start away from the crash.
I'll find a way to take care of him, Shun promised bitterly as Seiya stumbled toward him holding out the coat they had so laboriously rid him of before. Somehow, I'll keep him safe.
Hyoga
"Are you sure you won't come with us?" Hyoga asked Ikki once again, though the ice-eyed Saint already knew the answer before the older man had even begun shaking his head.
"Three people wandering out in the wilderness won't have any better hope than two, you fools, and I've got some chance to help if I figure out what happened…and who's responsible." The deadly tone the other had adopted at the last made it more than clear what fate awaited the soul on whom guilt eventually came to rest. The Phoenix Saint was first in that line, but Hyoga too wanted his chance to take retribution upon those at fault…he just had to find Shun first.
The Cygnus Saint had stood their frozen in front of that message board at the control panel while his precious love's voice screamed and cried in terror and there hadn't been anything that he could do. Even as Shun's brother had begun taking action and grilling the little Steel Saint whatever-his-name-was, Hyoga had not been able to bring himself to think of anything else because it all boiled down to on thing. Shun had needed him and he hadn't been there.
Oh, Hyoga knew he was far from the perfect boyfriend—Shun made sure he knew—but when it had really mattered he had always been there before, and it had mattered so many times. Standing there and listening to that plea for help Hyoga himself had been helpless and unable to do anything, but he could do something now. Even without an exact pinpoint, Daichi had been able to track the relay backward to a general area, and at first things hadn't looked better.
The area that came up was in the high Servin Mountains resting right on the border—a veritable wasteland with few roads and none of them opened past the first snow which had coated the ground months ago in the high country. It was also a no-fly zone. The deep passes blacked radio signals, confused sensors, and had even been known to kill equipment. There would be no chance of sending out search craft in the air, or even taking their own plane past the banks of the first peaks. Hyoga hadn't been able to do anything standing there in the control room, but he would walk from wherever Saori-san's plane left them. He would walk a thousand miles if that was what it took and he would not quit until Shun was back safely in his arms.
It had been Shiryu who had finally broken through the mess that the message had left in the control room and woken Hyoga from his own helplessness. The Dragon Saint had just stared for a long, long time and then turned around slowly, walked to his room, and began packing. Saori had refused to give them a plane until morning and the Dragon Saint had almost had to be restrained to keep from just setting out on foot into the dark, but logic had prevailed in the other man's mind and Athena had her way.
And now… Hyoga and Shiryu were each loaded up with backpacking gear and everything they would need to survive alone in the Servins—everything that Shun and Seiya did not have—as well as an open frequency radio to keep a sign out for transmissions from the Serengay or the foundation. Shiryu had arranged it all in a calm deadly silence that had everyone on edge, and even now the long black haired Saint was no more than a statue in the seat behind Hyoga's.
The Cygnus Saint didn't know how the other man managed. He had started yelling—first at Daichi, a hoarse demanding that finally chased the tears from his eyes. He had yelled at the Steel Saint, and Ikki, and even Athena until he didn't even know what he was yelling anymore. Shiryu might seem unaffected to someone who didn't know him well, but Hyoga was not someone who didn't know him well, and though it was true that the Dragon Saint was always quiet and calm, there was a certain rigidness to his shoulders—a certain set to the grim line of his mouth and an overall feeling that left no doubt in the Cygnus Saint's mind that Shiryu was anything but calm.
But if Hyoga had panicked, it seemed that the Dragon Saint had been spurred to a sort of grim determination that left room for nothing else in the other's mind. Shiryu would find Seiya, he would find Shun, and Ikki would find whoever had done this and Make. Them. Pay.