A/N: In the words of Darkseid, "Let the universe tremble in fear, for I have returned!" Yes, not even the combination of a heavy workload and a persistent computer virus could keep me down.

Disclaimer: As ever, don't own.

As she had once done, when she was a little child, with clouds, so now in the snow and ice Jade tried to identify imaginary shapes: cars and trucks, animals, people. It was silly, she knew, but in this horribly, monotonously white landscape it was the only way she could think of to keep from going mad.

Trusting in their now sabotage-free GPS locator, they were making their way east to a Japanese polar exploration station a hundred and fifty miles away, the nearest human settlement their map had to offer. So far as they knew, the part of the continent where they had been shipwrecked had never felt the tread of a human being before. They had seen only a few signs of life so far in their trek – the occasional gull overhead; sleek seals at play in the watery cracks in the ice; and, most ominously, a white wolf. It had followed them for several hundred yards, at a distance, keeping perfectly even with their pace; and all the time it observed them with placid, thoughtful eyes, as if weighing dispassionately their strengths and weaknesses as prey. At last, presumably having decided that they were too formidable to take on, it snuffed amiably, hot steam swirling around its nostrils, and trotted off; but Jade could not shake the feeling that it would return, when they were exhausted or injured, and treat itself to a hearty meal.

Over them precipices of ice loomed, like fingers ready to drag them down into the earth and freeze them as fully as the sinners in Dante's innermost Hell. It was warming slightly, but even this conspired to punish them, for it turned the oddly comforting silent snowfall into wind-whipped pellets of hail that stung their exposed faces.

The hail swiftly thickened. André shouted something over his shoulder to Jade, but the words were swept away by a gust of wind. "What?" she cried back.

"I said, we gotta make camp. There's no hope of gettin' anywhere – not for the next few hours, anyway."

Jade hated to admit it – every moment in camp would be precious time lost – but he was right. She gave a reluctant nod, and motioned to the leeward side of a great snowdrift.

Even without interference from the wind, pitching the tent was a challenge. Their fingers, so unused to the cold, were almost wholly numb, and hail continued to fall on their backs as they bent over to drive in the stakes. When they were inside and Jade could at last pull out her tiny battery-powered heater, she thought she had never known such bliss.

"You should get some sleep," said André. "I'll keep watch."

"Not a lot of wildlife around to watch out for."

"No argument there, but I didn't like the way that wolf was eyein' us. Best not to take chances – ngggh…" As he attempted to remove his outermost jacket, a wave of pain contorted his face.

"Looks like I did a lousy job on your shoulder." Jade silently cursed herself as she helped him.

"You did fine, Jade. And anyway, beatin' yourself up ain't gonna help us much."

"Yeah, but the least I can do is take the first watch while you rest."

He was about to protest again, but pain persuaded him otherwise. "…All right." He pressed the flare gun, salvaged from the ship and now their only weapon, into her hands. "We've only got one shot, so if you have to fire, make damn sure that it counts. Wake me up in four hours and I'll take second shift."

Curling up in a thermal blanket, he lay on his left side and waited for the aching to ebb. At last it sank to a bearable level, and an unrestful sleep came upon him.

Jade sat cross-legged with the flare gun ready to hand, staring at the tent flap. For a moment she closed her eyes and tried to immerse herself in a vision of California – palm trees, sandy beaches, and heat, blessed heat. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that the trapped-in-an-RV incident would be a pleasant memory, but hell, what she wouldn't give right now to be sweating in a bikini, with a shirtless Beck beside her…

Beck. Did he have any idea where she was? Did he care? Surely there was still some affection in him, as there was in her. But even so, would he come charging to the rescue? And if he did, would he have any luck, or simply die alone on the ice? She shuddered at the image that entered her mind, of a corpse slowly buried by layer after layer of snow, while terns circled overhead like vultures…

No. No more morbidity. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand, tedious though it was. After all, nothing and no one's going to show up…

The tent wall began to shake, accompanied by muffled sounds from outside.

When Jade was six, her mother, in one of her last attempts to "bond" with her daughter before she threw in the towel and walked out on her family, had taken her to see The Blair Witch Project. Why exactly Letitia Cowley-West thought that a horror film was suitable fare for a six-year-old was only one of many unsolved mysteries that surrounded her. Jade remembered the film all too vividly, especially the claustrophobic scenes as the three protagonists crouched in terror in their tent while unseen entities beat on it and laughed. Oh, God. I'm living a nightmare.

"Go away!" she cried at the unknown intruder. "Just go away! Go away, or I'll kill you!" Her screaming awoke André, who propped himself up groggily, then started up in alarm as he realized what was happening, ignoring the pain that rose afresh in his shoulder.

The wind died down, making the confused noises intelligible – a human voice: "Help me, please…"

Jade and André exchanged stunned looks.

"Help me…so cold…please, let me in…" The voice was weak, half-strangled.

"What do you wanna do?" asked André.

"It might be some kind of trick…but if it isn't, we can't leave a man out there to die," Jade replied.

He chuckled softly. "You got more of a soft touch than people think, y'know?"

"Maybe so," she said with a tiny smile as she unzipped the tent. Immediately, a tall, gangly figure, wearing only a thin windbreaker, collapsed on her. She struggled under the weight, but at last managed to roll him off of her.

"Thank…thank you…God bless you…" he whispered.

"Who are you? How did you get out here?"

"P-Patrick…food…please…"

She eased a piece of beef jerky into his mouth, helping him to chew so that he wouldn't choke. André rolled up one of his jackets as an impromptu pillow and propped up his head.

"Tastes…so good…"

"Want another piece?"

But he had fainted dead away.