Thanks everyone for all your wonderful reviews - and sorry ANON but I am a big Joe fan and there are many Frank stories on this site as well, so I thought I would get back to what I love best and that is Frank as the super big brother!

There are only five chapters left to this story so I will pull back a but on the posting and only post one chapter a day instead of two. Besides the brothers are back together again so I don't need to put up two so you can get your fix of which ever brother is your favorite.

Again thanks for the reviews and I am glad most people seem to be enjoying the story! Love, Phoenix

Cold Spell

Chapter 18

Frank sat in the same spot as he had done the first time he caught a fish. It was a beautiful day – the sun bright in the cloudless sky. Overhead he heard the whistling sound of wings as a flock of tundra swans flew above them.

Somewhere else there was a chattering rodent, and every now and then he even heard the soft plop of a fish breaching further away in the pond.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was always hungry and his body felt weary from lack of substantial food and good sleep, this might have been considered pleasant.

But it wasn't. And he wasn't fishing right now because he wanted relaxation or a change a pace – he was fishing for their survival.

His and Joe's.

Thinking about that, he turned his head to catch a quick glimpse of his brother. It had been a while since Joe had made any comments, witty or sarcastic, and he assumed his brother had fallen asleep.

And he had, using Frank's parka as a pillow, the older boy noticed.

Stifling a small grin as he didn't want his brother to see him, the older teen plucked the small tube of lipstick from his pocket and applied a fresh layer to his lips. He'd never admit it, but it did make his lips feel better.

Now here's a habit I don't want to develop, he chuckled to himself before slipping the tube back into his pants pocket and shaking his head, as he could just imagine the looks on everyone's faces if they could just see him now.

But then he sobered up, if they could just see us now, I don't think they'd care if we were in drag dancing Swan Lake…. They'd just be happy to see us….

Sighing, he turned his attention back to the fishing line and wondered if he'd caught the wrong kind of grasshopper this time, because nothing seemed to be biting….Well, nothing except those vicious little blood suckers that were out in full force now the wind had died down again!

Frank was a bit glad about that, though – not the insects, but about the wind abating – at least it was fairly warm, all things considered, and he didn't mind sitting there in a warm sweater instead of needing his heavy parka!

Thinking of parkas made him frown. That was the one thing Joe hadn't found at the other crash site – his heavier coat. And now with one of his sleeves cut halfway up the arm, it would provide even less protection than before. And that was going to be a real problem if they didn't get rescued soon.

That and his missing mittens. They had no spares and Frank had made Joe stuff a pair of socks in his pocket in case it got colder. They'd do to keep his hands warm, at least.

Thinking about the rescue frustrated him. Frank couldn't figure out why they hadn't been found yet – they'd now spent six nights in this horrid place. They should have been found!

Maybe I messed up the coordinates, the boy thought grimly, thinking of his mayday call. But then he shook his head; he'd been amazingly calm at the time. Not amazingly calm, eerily calm.

He'd told Joe they were going down, and to brace himself; then he'd made the call…

Maybe no one heard the call; he weighed this option for all of two seconds before dismissing it. He'd had verbal confirmation from the tower.

So what if the plane's navigational equipment was off? And if so - why? Frank's detective mind went into suspicion mode but then he chastised himself and muttered, "Give it a rest, Hardy – planes do go down without there being some big conspiracy theory. We were only visiting friends in Greenland, no mystery there…."

He started to think about his father. Joe was so sure that he would find them that Frank didn't even want to think what would happen to that confidence if many more days passed and he didn't.

e wasHe wasn'

The older boy wanted to believe just as strongly, but he couldn't. He knew with each passing day their chances of rescue became slimmer, and he had no idea how long formal searches would continue.

Probably a few weeks, he speculated, but as he looked up into the bright sky, he wondered if they could wait that long.

Every day spent here brought them one more day closer to the winter, and they were in no way prepared for any serious coldness or months of never-ending darkness….

So far he hadn't mentioned it to Joe, but Frank was starting to give some serious thought to them having to find their own way….Leaving the plane and heading south.

Glancing back at his brother, he sighed. He'd prefer to wait until Joe's shoulder was completely recovered, but they might not have that chance. How long could they remain?

That's why he hadn't opened the salmon yet, or the chocolates….If they did decide to walk out, they'd need those food stores even more then. Curiously enough, Joe never asked him about that….

A small tug on the line interrupted his thoughts, and Frank spent the next few minutes carefully playing the fish before it plopped down on the ground. He smiled and was very proud of himself.

The trout wasn't the largest, but it would give the brothers some desperately needed sustenance without drawing on their few reserves.

He started to call out to the younger boy, but stopped and decided to let him sleep. Instead, he turned his attention back to the pond – maybe they could have two trout for supper!

Joe awoke with a start and looked around, taking a few moments to reorient.

He'd been having the weirdest dream…and then he sighed. It wasn't a dream.

"Frank?" he called out to his brother who was sitting with his back to him, still fishing, "Any luck?"

The older boy turned around and grinned when he heard his brother's voice. "Got one!"

"No kidding!" Joe said, excitement in his voice as he struggled to sit up, hissing sharply when he jarred his arm. Darn it, he thought, when's it going to stop hurting so much!

"You okay?" Frank was still looking at him and hadn't missed the pained grimace.

"Just peachy," Joe muttered, and then teased when he saw the fish on the ground, "Is that it?"

"What do you mean is 'that it'?" Frank demanded.

"Well I just mean…" Joe gave him a grin, "What are you planning on eating?"

"Hey, you should be asking yourself that question! I caught it. The only thing you caught was a nap!" the older teen retorted, and was rewarded with a piece of moss being pulled up and tossed at him.

"Stop throwing food!" he chastised, and then stood up to stretch his cramped muscles. He'd been sitting in the same position for a long time. Joe also rose, pretty much in the same situation: stiff.

"Why don't we switch for a while?" the younger boy suggested. "I wouldn't mind trying my good hand at fishing and you can get some z's."

Frank started to protest, but then saw the sense of it. He wouldn't mind an hour or so of sleep, and it wasn't exactly strenuous work. Joe could do it one-handed, well, unless he caught something….

"Okay, but if you get something, wake me up and I'll help you land it."

"Sure," Joe agreed, immediately seeing the sensibleness of his brother's suggestion.

Within moments, Frank was lying down on Joe's coat with his own as a pillow, while the blond boy was perched on the edge of the pond playing the line in the water.

"Fishing is hard," Joe grumbled to himself, half an hour later. Fidgety under the best conditions, he found it very difficult to just crouch there and give little tugs on the line. Glancing over his shoulder at his sleeping brother, Joe shook his head and wondered how Frank could do it. He'd sat here for over two hours doing just this!

Patience of Job, he decided as he stood up and stretched, pulling the line out of the water as he did so. He looked around and sighed. Tundra as far as the eye could see.

Where are you, Dad? he wondered as he gazed across the horizon, half expecting to see a rescue plane any moment. I just want to go home.

Frank hadn't said anything to him yet, but Joe suspected he was weighing the option of them trying to walk out, and the younger boy wasn't sure what he thought about that . It hadn't escaped his notice when Frank put some of the salvaged food to the side instead of using it up first, before resorting to ketchup chasers and mustard water!

However, he trusted his brother implicitly, and decided to wait until Frank brought it up to give it much serious thought. Besides, he was sure their father would find them before then.

"We can dine like kings on salmon and chocolate on the return fli—"

Joe's voice broke off. Uh oh…he hadn't thought about that.

Their rescue would come by air.

Swallowing nervously, Joe sat back down on the edge of the pond, but didn't put the fishing line back in. He just stared at its crystal depths and tried not to think about it. But it was hard to do.

As much as he wanted to be rescued, he did not want to ever get back in a plane again!

He suddenly was overcome with a very strong desire to get back to the burrow.

"Frank?"

"hmmm."

"Frank!"

"Huh? W-what's wrong?"

"Can we go back now?"

A pause. A yawn.

"What time is it?"

"Don't know."

"What's wrong?"

"I just want to go back."

"Joe, are you okay?"

A longer pause.

"No."

Without saying anything else, Frank stood up, grabbed his parka and Joe's coat, the fish and nodded, "Okay little brother, let's go back."

Side by side the two brothers picked their way back across the barrens…while high overhead the unblinking eye watched their progress in silence.