Shun

Food, Shun and Seiya found, was the real problem. With the snow deep and plentiful water was always at hand; with Seiya's ridiculous packing, though the cold was bitter and terrible, they would persevere; but in this barren wilderness there was simply no food to be had, and Shun and Seiya quickly discovered that they were not the only ones in the forest starving this winter.

Shun's arm still throbbed, but the sweet pink armored Saint barely noticed the pain any longer from beyond the constricted knot of his stomach that seemed must be wrapped completely around his backbone by now. It had been days and days since they had eaten anything—Shun couldn't even remember how many. That was bad wasn't it? Or maybe it didn't matter and this whole grueling march was just some sort of terrible dream and he could wake up and kiss Hyoga and then yell at his boyfriend for letting him sleep too long! The Cygnus Saint was always indulging him when he shouldn't have been, but some part of Shun's mind knew that those thoughts were the dream and the constant ache in his middle the reality.

Where did Seiya find the energy? The Pegasus Saint's injuries were clearly no more healed than Shun's own, and Seiya had had not a bite more to eat, but somehow the other Saint managed to start them off every morning with a smile and say 'we'll make it.' Not that either of them had the energy for much more talk than that, but somehow it was clear in the very set of Seiya's shoulders, even when he stumbled, or shivered, or fell, that he really was completely sure that they would make it. Seiya had hope and it gave Shun heart. Seiya could make impossible things happen, the Andromeda Saint had seen it, so perhaps even if it was hard to trust in himself or some distant dream he could keep his hope safe with Seiya.

The Pegasus Saint led them ever on breaking trail through the snow covered forest, avoiding what obstacles he could and crossing carefully those he could not, and it was at one such crossing of a deeply snow packed valley where the white drifts came all the way to the Pegasus's waist that the two Bronze Saints were forced to meet their next challenge. The Servin Mountains were inhospitable in the best of times, but this winter was not the best of times and with food scarce, starvation drove the wolves of the barren forest to seek food even where they would never have dared before.

The only advantage that the two Bronze Saints had as the pack came growling and howling into the clearing was that the creatures were as awkward in the deep snow drifts as the humans—but that was barely worth counting, for haggard as the pair was from the ordeal of the last days the wolves were much, much faster. Shun was screaming and scrabbling about his person for something—anything!—with which to protect himself, but there simply wasn't anything to be had. The Andromeda didn't even have both arms…and they would reach him first.

If fate saw fit to bring him through this in one piece he would never refuse a hand to hand combat lesson from his brother ever again! A quick glance showed Seiya fighting to come back to him from where the Pegasus had gotten ahead breaking trail, throwing his short form against the towering drifts in desperate determination, but he couldn't count on Seiya for a rescue—the other man had no more a weapon than the Andromeda and only slightly more of a chance… Still, the green haired Saint found himself unable to stop from crying out in fear as the shaggy brown and gray bodies loped closer and closer against the white background of the deserted expanse they had fallen into.

Pink tongues lolled and saliva dripped from stained and chipped fangs with starving expectation fierce in the dark, dark eyes. Shun screamed and tried to move backward as the snow that slowed him trapped his form and kept him rooted to the spot.

"Shun! Don't be afraid! Don't be afraid! Scream at them! Shun!...I'm coming!" But Seiya was still somewhere behind him and the wolves were now right in front. He tried to scream at them like the Pegasus Saint said—to make them think that he wasn't afraid, but in the end he just screamed. His one free arm scrabbled desperately at his person for something he could use even as wet tears had gathered in absolute terror at the corners of his eyes. Seiya wasn't going to make it, but it wouldn't matter because against a whole pack of wolves trapped as they were, neither of them would make it.

The closest of the wolves was gathering into a crouch to spring, others coming up to the Andromeda's right and left and Shun's terrified shouts ended as the green haired Saint huddled back against the snow in complete silence closing his eyes and resigning himself while at the same time preparing for the pain that would come and swearing that he would make Ikki proud in his last battle no matter what he had.

Slim pale fingers closed around something in the huge pocket of the pants even as the Andromeda Saint sent a prayer and his ever lasting love to Hyoga, and waited for whatever might come.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells! Jingle all the Way!

Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh! HEY!

Shun's eyes sprang back wide open in surprise falling first to the wolves who had mercifully stopped to the source of the blaring techno music which was the cell phone he clutched desperately in his hand. Without even realizing it he had squeezed the buttons and turned on the Christmas ring medley that he had set up to make Hyoga choose from…

Deck the halls with boughs of holly!

Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!

Tis the Season to be jolly!

Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!

The strange all too familiar and human sound had made the wolves pause and fall back, circling carefully. They were unsure.

We wish you a merry Christmas! We wish you a merry Christmas!

We wish you a merry Chirstmas! And a Happy New Year!

"That's the way Shun!" Seiya's energetic voice beat up as the other warrior struggled to his side finally giving Shun the courage to straighten as the shorter Saint glared and swung his arms wildly at the shaggy wolves.

"Brandish the phone at them Shun!" he encouraged, half shouting and still waving his arms wildly.

I saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas day in the morn!

Shun brandished the phone at the wolves spinning up the volume as high as it would go and sending a quiet thanks to whatever force that he preferred lively music. The wolves were falling back now, confronted by something they had learned to fear: humans. Seiya was half laughing, half shouting now and struggling forward to chase the creatures further back and Shun was almost surprised to find himself right at the Pegasus Saint's side still pointing and swinging wildly with his phone and then, finally, the Little Drummer Boy came across on his playlist—with the drum beats loud and sharp and human in the deathly still quiet of the wilderness, and the wolves turned and fled.

Well the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful!

And as long as that fire does glow…

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

Shun sank against Seiya reaching out to hold onto the other Saint even as he found the Pegasus doing the same. They were alive. Shun was laughing and crying and his playlist had gone full circle to Jingle Bells again, but it didn't matter. He and Seiya were alive—alive!—and they would make it.

Ikki

This time he couldn't have the wrong person, Ikki was sure, because this time the name and address came straight from the mouth of one of the Steel saints themselves, though not the young fox that ran the control room. Slow steady steps took him down the warmly lit hallway of the large ugly grey apartment building where he would find Gerald Freshkin: moderately successful pilot of the private jet, Conaway, whose flight path would have made it the closest craft to the Sarengay's crash and also most likely, the origin of the original strange relay.

403, 404, 405, Ikki counted the doors carefully to 407. Gerald Freshkin really ought to be the man that Ikki was looking for but he also wouldn't be the first or even the second pilot the jaded Saint had hunted down today—but to be fair, the others had only been on suspicion whereas this time his information was supposedly sound. Ikki lifted a hand to knock loudly on the properly marked door ready to start another pointless interrogation when the elevator dinged loudly from a few doors down distracting the Phoenix Saint and making him glance over in annoyance at the intrusion upon his thoughts.

The doors closed behind a tallish looking man with a pair of grocery bags in either hand—unremarkable except for the fact that he took one look at the Phoenix Saint and his poised hand at the door marked 407 and dropped the bags taking off at a run. Gerald Freshkin did not want to be found for some reason and Ikki would stake his life and armor that is was just the reason that he did want to find the man. Without ever laying a hand against the wood of 407, Ikki launched himself off after the retreating figure, crushing groceries heedlessly beneath the thick heels of his heavy black boots.

Gerald Freshkin was a pilot and a skinny one that wore glasses at that, and Ikki had grown up on Death Queen Island. The man never even had a chance. Even with the head start he had garnered dropping the grocery bags the man barely made it into the stairwell before he found himself pinned roughly against the wall of the landing without ever having made a single one of the steps. The door swung shut loudly behind the Phoenix and his captive resounding with the odd acoustics of the chilly unused back stairs. Gerald Freshkin was a terrified man.

"I didn't think it would make a difference!" he started protesting and babbling, though Ikki had no idea what the man was talking about. "Probably nobody picked it up anyways!" The writhing figure was half shouting, half pleading now and the Phoenix couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"But I couldn't just leave them—I just set the signal on relay and I'll never talk! So please don't kill me, please!" The man was growing hysterical so Ikki shook the figure hard. It had the desired effect silencing and quieting the form he still held pinned to the wall but no longer with the same vicious force. It seemed he had managed to find another victim on the trail back to their culprit, but maybe this time they had slipped up and left a lead for him to follow. Maybe.

"I'm not going to kill you…Gerald Freshkin I assume." The man nodded timidly and Ikki loosened his grip even further not letting go just yet but no longer threatening or so he hoped. Whatever his intention the poor lanky pilot seemed no less terrified than before.

"I can only guess why you're afraid for your life," Ikki told the shaking figure, "But I can send you to some people that will protect you—if you tell me exactly what happened right now, but you lie to me just once and not only do you loose the offer but I ask the rest of my questions the hard way." The extra force he added to his grip on the man at the last could hardly have made his words any clearer, but it was unnecessary as Mr. Freshkin seemed eager to do anything he could to keep his skin in one piece.

Gerald Freshkin, it turned out, was actually a bit of a daredevil of sorts and took mostly dangerous jobs, so when he had received a request to make a pick up rendezvous in the Servin Mountains—a no fly zone—he had made sure that the pay was sufficient and then accepted. He made sure to stress to the Phoenix Saint though, that the contract said only that he was to meet with another plane at a landing and exchange passengers.

So, he had gone out and met with two men that seemed just a pair of thrill seekers and they had all set off for the Servin Mountains and that was when things had started to get too hot for the thrill seeking citizen owner of the Conaway. One of the two men—neither had given a name, but the pay had been sufficient that Freshkin hadn't pressed—but in any case, one of them had carried a private radio which, not too far from the rendezvous point and time, had suddenly started picking up signals. The two men had gotten extremely agitated.

The transmission only lasted a few moments and Gerald hadn't really been able to hear much, but he had caught the words "resistance" and "hostage" and that was when he had started to get nervous. Thrill seeker he might be, but Freshkin was for the most part a law abiding citizen and wanted nothing to do with "hostages" or "resistance." He had never had the time to work up the courage to voice his concerns though, because the private radio had cut off following which his two passengers had both pulled out guns. The pilot seemed almost as affronted as angered and terrified as he relayed this point of the story.

He had been forced to risk all of their lives and his sweet Conaway—it was clear from his tone which would have been the greater loss—and change the course he had so carefully mapped to take them into the Servin's in order to pick up two more men that had apparently been forced to parachute from another vessel, but it had been shortly after with four guns trained on him instead of two and back in the familiar blue territory of the skies that Conaway and its pilot had picked up the mayday that came from Sarengay on its way down.

"I wanted to respond!" Gerald seemed desperate to make Ikki believe, or perhaps the poor law abiding Mr. Freshkin was simply distressed by the thought that he had not been able to do anything. "But they had guns pointed at me! They told me that f I responded they would kill me—I couldn't just leave the other plane and its passengers though…so I did what I could. I put the message on silent relay in hopes that another craft would pick it up and be able to help…" He trailed off finally, looking right at Ikki with no fear for the first time, but instead an almost hopeful expression. "If you're here than the message…"

The Phoenix Saint who had remained silent the entire time simply fixed the man with hard eyes dropped his hands finally and stepped a pace back, shaking his head. Ikki couldn't relieve the man's conscience, but he couldn't really fault Freshkin either. The man's account confirmed everything Ikki had theorized and suspected, and almost guaranteed that abduction had been the primary if not only purpose in taking the Sarengay.

"We got the relay, but the plane and passengers are still…missing." But it had been what…six days now? Six? Hope was slowing dying in the Phoenix Saint, but where hope had failed before he had been able to count on Seiya. Seiya would bring his brother out of this alive and in the meantime Ikki would see the responsible party trussed, tied, and hung out as a welcome home sign for the pair, because that was all he could do. Everybody did what they could.

"I can probably give you the relative location that the…the crash happened," Gerald offered, shifting nervously and pulling off his thick lenses to wipe at them with the hem of his shirt. "It was about…"

"Save it!" Ikki cut him off so sharply that the lanky figure actually jumped, but if Freshkin told him the location now, Ikki knew he would never be able to stop himself from hopping right back on the secondary plane he had procured and going straight to the spot.

"Save it," he continued on again in a more normal tone. Daichi would be able to give the location to the two fools who needed to find Seiya and Shun the most and Ikki had his own task to be about.

"What I want to know," he told the wide eyed pilot, "Is where you dropped off the four men with the guns."