Written for Gumnut's Fab-Five-Feb prompt challenge for Scott and the prompt 'Wistful Thinking'. Inspired by the 'Third Man Factor' and a comment by Onerey.
Scott's ankle gave out again, only this time his grapple pack was empty and the tumble down the short crevasse couldn't be stopped.
It didn't help that it was quiet here, out of the howling wind and driving snow. The crevasse was as silent as – no, he wasn't going to think that! But even his comms were silent, wiped out by the blizzard above.
At least the hover-sled had fallen with him, its precious cargo forever silent. The rescuee he'd failed to save but would not abandon.
Scott took a moment to get his breath before standing, only to crash down again. His ankle would not support him.
Groaning, Scott shuffled back until he was sitting up against the sheer ice wall. There wasn't anything he could do until the blizzard passed and his brothers could come and find him, so he lent back and closed his eyes.
Time passed.
'You can't stay here, Son.'
The voice seemed to echo around the crevasse and Scott's eyes snapped open. There wasn't anything – anyone – around, and with a heavy sigh he settled down to wait.
'You're not safe, Scotty.'
This time Scott's eyes stayed closed. But a feeling of comfort not unlike the hugs he remembered as a small boy enveloped him. It brought a smile to his face.
'You need to get out where your brothers can find you.'
He knew that was true, and so he listened to the voice.
'Ok, I'm moving.'
With a lot of groaning he go up.
'This way.'
He followed the voice through a hidden opening back into the glacier. It was slow going, and more than once he needed the support of both the walls and the sled to keep him from damaging himself further.
Suddenly they were out. The wind had gone and the snow fell far more gently. Scott blinked in the sudden brightness and looked around. Somehow they were within sight of One. All he needed now was to wait for Two to help his stuck 'bird. He knew it had been only wistful thinking, but that didn't stop him whispering as he trudged those last steps to safety.
'Thanks, Mom.'