I am back lovelies! Let me know what you think! Thank you all so much for your continued support. I sort of lost connection with this story, and it's back now, much to your benefit!

As always, read and review!


Man down, Dean!" Marco called for the sheriff, his voice desperate, and he knelt quickly beside his fallen co-worker. "Roy? Roy, come on now, answer me okay?"

The paramedic lay quiet, not moving in the still-falling snow. His breathing was erratic, and his slack face was pale. Marco shook his head in disbelief and ripped off his ski coat to cover the paramedic's still form. Sheriff Dean Mitchell came running to fall to his knees beside the concerned fireman.

"Get your coat on man, this isn't the Amazon!" Dean spoke harshly to Marco in his haste. He just couldn't believe it. The LA men around him were just dropping like proverbial flies. Dean reached for the fallen paramedic's jugular and paused, his head tilted to one side, feeling for a pulse. None - no, not quite - yes! It was faint, but it was there.

"Get me an ambulance to the rescue location, stat. Man down." Dean spoke quickly into his shoulder radio and turned his upper body to face Marco. The Mexican fireman's normally tanned face was ruddy from the cold, and stiffly lined with the tension that he felt falling upon his own shoulders. His captain was lost somewhere in the valley below, his younger paramedic pal was on his way to the ER and his strong senior paramedic had just completely collapsed. Somewhere in a little hotel back down in Aspen sat two amazing women and two beautiful children waiting for their husbands and father to come back to their waiting arms. Marco didn't want to come home without them. He just couldn't. In the haze of the moment, the rest of the team managed to get Roy packed into the rescue squad without Marco's help. Somehow, he found his coat hanging over his own shoulders and a foam cup of hot coffee clutched tightly in his frozen hands. The sharp pain of the losses he had endured were numbed to an ache and he slumped forward tiredly and gulped the steaming liquid, not even feeling the burning as it slid down his throat.

"You coming with us, buddy?"

Marco raised his head to find Dean Mitchell standing before him, shouldering a backpack of supplies and another backpack at the ready, sitting by his feet.

"Got to go get them." The brave smile the young sheriff gave him lifted Marco's spirits for a fraction of a second. Then he crushed the now empty coffee cup and shouldered the backpack. Here went nothing. He followed the Sheriff to the staging area, where the recovery would be planned in detail. If only the snow would stop.


Captain Stanley stirred the small fire, the stinging of the thawing skin in his hands helping him maintain a grasp of reality. He was trying to keep a calm and level head, and rationalize the best way out of their situation. Keeping his mind busy, he had wrapped his sprained wrist and was preparing to wrap his sprained ankle when a slight noise behind him caught his attention, and he half turned to see Ashley stirring in her sleep on the couch. She had fallen asleep after her fear-driven outburst earlier and he had taken that time to finish preparing a meager dinner from the canned food he had found before tending his injuries.

He moved quickly to her side.

"Ash?"

Ashley slowly opened her eyes, and moved a hand to rub her face. Hank grabbed the pale fingers in his own, eyeing the head injury that Johnny had tended, noting it was still angry looking, and wishing that Johnny or Roy was here to check it out.

"Don't touch that, Ash. You have quite the knock on your head there."

Ash glanced in his direction, her features relaxing when she finally came into focus and nodded once, and tried to sit up. He helped her, eyes glued to her face, watching for some definite sign that she truly recognized him. She looked around for a moment in confusion. "Why aren't Johnny and Roy here?" For a brief second, Hank realized she was back again. But he also knew he would have to explain the tough reason her friends had not accompanied them to the cabin. She had not been in any condition to notice, and he honestly wasn't in any condition to explain it, but he tried. "Well, there was an avalanche, Peanut. You and I got carried down here into the valley like a couple of paper airplanes. I haven't seen the boys since. That escaped convict showed up and helped us get here, somehow. You were pretty out of it. I was for a bit too, woke up in here. Hey, at least we aren't frozen." He almost said "Like the boys may be," but those bitter words he could not speak and he let his voice trail off and he glanced away.

"You look pretty rough." Ashley spoke quietly, reaching up a small hand to tough his wind-chapped cheekbone. He winced at the warm touch, and took her hand in his again.

"So do you, for the record. I have some hot water boiling. Let me wash off that head wound okay?"

Ashley nodded mutely, studying his bandaged wrist and ankle. "Do they hurt much?"

Hank had moved to the stove and half-turned when she spoke to see what she was talking about. "Do they- what, my sprains?" He chuckled. "Naw, not half as bad as they will hurt tomorrow."

Ashley smiled a little, and walked over to the hearth on shaky feet, sitting down with the fire at her back. "What is the big plan then, o fire chief brother of mine?"

Hank glanced at her, realizing for a moment that was almost her old self. Before he left her and broke her heart. A pain went through his chest for a moment and faded.

"Well, Peanut, the rescue team will probably begin a - body - recovery - mission as soon as it is stable enough. They won't find us in here right now, obviously. The blowing snow won't help, because it will cover all tracks. On the bright side, once the weather clears, if they are still in the area, they will hopefully see the smoke in the fireplace and - best case scenario - they will come this far up the valley and find us. Problem is storms up here can last for days." His voice trailed off again, and he turned and busied himself with the hot water, placing a reddened finger in the water, and realizing that he really couldn't tell how hot it was because of the numbness of the skin. He poured some more snow into it and nodded in satisfaction when the steam lessened.

He moved back to where Ashley sat and reached up to dab the wound on his sister's head with the water. She winced and moved a hand to stop him, whimpering his name, but he took it firmly in his other hand and continued the treatment. "Try to stay still, Peanut. You are gonna have quite the bruise in the morning."

"What about Roy- and Johnny?" She asked quietly, gritting her teeth against the stinging over her eye.

Hank Stanley did not have the answer to that question. He shook his head, and with that single motion, he was neither confirming nor denying that his boys would ever be found.

"So there is a chance that none of us will make it out?" She asked, eyes dark with worry. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze locked on hers. Should he be honest? In that moment, flashbacks of the two of them playing together appeared in the backdrop of his mind, scenes of when her father was drunk and angry, Hank sneaking her out of the house for a few hours, and scenes of him leaving for college, effectively leaving her with no one to confide in. He had to be honest. If he didn't, he would never forgive himself. He shook his head. "There is that chance, Peanut."

Her gaze left his, and she gazed down at her hands.

"I should have been nicer to them." She spoke quietly, a small sniff alerting him to her deteriorating emotions. Hank glanced concernedly at her, wondering if this was the moment of truth he had waited for. But she was silent while he wrapped the makeshift bandages around her head, and when he finished, she began to pace the floor. He knew from experience, that she only did that when wrangling with decisions. He sat back on his heels and waited. In time, he knew that she would come to him. He had to believe that.

She moved to sit next to him as he was dishing out the meager dinner, and laid a hand on his arm. He laid down the spoon and half turned to face her. He was startled to see the tears silently dripping down her face, and he moved to pull her close. She held up a hand to stop him, and spoke quietly. "Hank, we -I - need to talk."


Roy awoke to sounds of nurses running to and fro, intercoms buzzing annoyingly in the back of his brain, and the steady beeping of a heart monitor close to his bed. His head throbbed and it's pounding seemed to match the pace of the orderlies pushing machines outside of his room. Why did it all seem so familiar? He listened carefully for a familiar voice, but nothing was registering in his mind, and he realized with a sudden pang of fear that he didn't know what had happened or why he was apparently in an ICU room.

He slowly opened his eyes to find the room he lay in was a small curtained, dimly lit partition, and Joanne sat at his side, her hand in his, head resting on the cool sheet that covered him. He moved his hand to lay it on her head, and she immediately awoke, bleary red-rimmed eyes focusing on him, disbelief written on her face. Then a tight smile found its way to her pale lips and she took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "Roy, you are awake!"

He sighed, a weary sensation creeping into his bones. "What happened, Jo?"

She looked down at the sheet, and swallowed, and that brought Roy to a level of high alert. "Jo?" He shook her hand free of his and tilted her chin up to face him. "Jo, why am I here?"

"Roy, do you remember the avalanche?" She asked gently, eyebrows knit in concern.

Roy's hand fell limply to the bed and he looked up at the ceiling tiles.

Cap. Ashley. The avalanche. The trees ripping from their bases, the shouting, the blinding snow, the roar, hanging onto the rope - hanging onto - Johnny.

"Johnny."

Jo realized Roy was gazing harshly into her eyes, intense urgency in his face. "Johnny." His hand found and tightened around hers, almost painfully and she winced. He immediately let go, apologetically rubbing the thin fingers. But his eyes were burning with fear and she could not hold his gaze.

"He is okay. Some minor sprains and scrapes injuries from the car going over the hill. They were worried about a neck injury, but it appears that nothing was broken. The effects aggravated - his - concussion - however." She hesitated.

"And?" Roy pushed her to continue, his eyes still glued to Joann's face.

"He is unconscious, Roy. They don't know when he will wake up." She spoke very quietly, gently taking his hand in hers and hugging it to her chest, her chin resting on the closed fist.

Roy looked away again and closed his eyes. Johnny was seriously hurt. His captain and his captain's sister were gone. There was no way they could have survived the avalanche. his whole world was crumbling. Stupid vacation.

A sudden thought jolted him back to reality.

"Susan?" Roy was gazing intently at Joann again.

Joanne's lower lip trembled, and she silently laid her head down next to him. Roy squeezed his eyes shut and laid his hand on the back of Joanne's neck to comfort her, even though his fingers shook with emotion. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, Jo."

She shook her head and he gritted his teeth. Who was he kidding? It was never going to be okay again. A thought swept through his mind and for a moment, he felt selfish. He was so grateful he still had his wife and kids. Poor Susan would never have the opportunity again.


She moved to sit next to him as he was dishing out the meager dinner, and laid a hand on his arm. He laid down the spoon and half turned to face her. He was startled to see the tears silently dripping down her face, and he moved to pull her close. She held up a hand to stop him, and spoke quietly. "Hank, we -I - need to talk."

"Yes, Peanut?"
She frowned, and she wrung her hands together, a habit she always did when thinking hard. Hank reached out and laid a hand on hers.

"Peanut?"

She began to speak, and it was all he could do not to break down himself.


Johnny's words. "My job kind of does the same thing. It drives you. You go into each rescue determined to beat pain and death. It's a war. And you are sure not gonna give in without a fight."

Her response. "What do you do when you feel yourself losing that battle?"

And Johnny's response. "Ah, well, you have to determine what made you fight in the first place."

"I want to fight, Johnny." She said softly. "I can't stand that disappointment in Hank's eyes. He has fought so hard for me. Sometimes I forget - he isn't - like - them." Her eyes became serious and dark again. "There are just times I feel - "

"Trapped?" Johnny asked quietly. "Like nothing you ever say or do will change the rotten failure of a human being that you have been told you will always be by them?"

"Hank never said that!"

"No, maybe Hank didn't. But someone did. And you believed them."

"Another story for another time, fireman."

END OF FLASHBACK

"Hank, I don't know what to say. I have been a jerk these past few years. You left because you had too. I know that, I really do. There is a rational side of me that understands. But that insecure part of me inside doesn't comprehend. I needed someone to lean on, and that was you. I wasn't ready to be strong. I couldn't. All my life my Dad abused me and my mom, and the things he said and did made me feel worthless. You came along, and you- you believed in me. I didn't know you from Adam, but you stepped in and you were the knight in shining armor that I needed. If you hadn't," She paused and shook her head. "I would not be here today. I can promise you that. I wasn't strong enough to keep going."

Hank brushed a rough hand across his own eyes, ignoring the salty tears that stung his chapped hand. He knew one day she was going to talk to him, and he knew there was a lot of pain and hurt bottled up. But hearing it didn't feel good, and even though her fears were irrational, it didn't make them any less real to her.

"I was angry." She continued quietly. "I was angry and I had to take that anger out on someone."

"And you chose yourself?" Hank said in an even lower tone.

She nodded quietly, subconsciously rubbing the scarred wrists. Hank reached out and grasped them, turning the pale skin so he could see. He said nothing, but held her hands tightly in his.

"I tried, Hank. I really did. I started work at the nursing home, in an attempt to try to make others feel better, and hoping it would help me. And it did. For a while."

She paused again, and he waited. Not pushing, not prying. Just patiently letting her work through it.

The dam finally broke, and her words came tumbling out. "One of the workers there was watching me a lot. I was working really hard, and he had been there longer, and I was trying to not cause problems. Well, he kept showing up when I was working with a patient, and I was getting really uncomfortable." She glanced up at Hank's face, wincing at the harsh expression that was plastered on his face. She could tell he was angry, but not at whom. She determined that he was mad at her, and dropped her gaze. He recognized this, and reached over to lift her chin.

"Not mad at you, Peanut. Go on." His tone was flat with barely contained emotions.

She nodded, her voice shaking as she continued. "Once day, he made advances on me when I was in a shower room with a patient. He just showed up, and I was scared cause I couldn't run and leave the patient alone. I was so scared, all I wanted was for you to walk in and run him off. I kept hoping you would. He had me pinned against the wall and -" she shuddered. "Then he got a page and it startled him. He - slapped me and said I was his and would never be worth anything and to keep an eye out for him because one day he would have me and I was so scared and I just wanted to die, and I was humiliated, and I felt like -garbage, and I just wanted to die!" She was now sobbing in earnest and Hank got down in the floor next to her, mumbling gentle words to calm her.

"Hey, it's okay. Come here, Hank's got you. It's over now, it's all over." He pulled her close, resting his chin on her head.

"I'm sorry, Hank." She whispered into his neck.

"No, Peanut. I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything! And now we are gonna die!"

Hank shook his head. "No we aren't, Peanut. I promise you we are not."

He would get them out safe if it was the very last thing he did. Even if he had to walk all the way back up the mountain. He had a score to settle with a certain man.


Ohhhhhh Captain Stanley is mad! Everyone look out! Dun dun duuuuuunn!

I had a similar experience to Ashley's, and while mine was not as intense as hers, only a stalker, it can definitely change your trust in people and make you feel vulnerable. Now that we have finally moved past Ashley's pain, we can get to a rescue...eventually...haha