A/N: So, I don't exactly have a set time or day that I'll be posting new chapters, so some days there may be one upload, some days there may be two or three. It depends entirely on my mood. :D Also, note that I will most likely be using all their nicknames most of the time, but I will occasionally put their real name in there, just telling you so you're not all confused or anything. I'm open to any ideas from you guys for what I should do next. Also, I'm new at righting fanfictions, so if you guys could give me any advice, that'd be great. Thank you!

The first thing Maverick felt was cold; freezing, burning, ice-cold snow. Then there was pain, and an overwhelming sense of dread. His eyelids felt heavy, but he opened them. At first, he had no idea how he even survived. But SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape) training that was engraved in his mind kicked in quickly.

He picked up his head a little bit, unbuckling the straps on his oxygen mask, and taking it off. The wind was howling, blowing hard and snowflakes flurried through the air. There was a forest straight ahead. It would be better to hide there than hiding in the open white field.

That's when he heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. It was flying low above the trees and was turning his way. Maverick grunted slightly, trying to stand up. Pain flared through his body, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. Stumbling, Maverick realized that he was still clipped to his parachute and the rucksack connected to it. Unclipping it with numb fingers, Maverick started racing towards the trees while the helicopter turned to face him fully.

Bullets started flying through the air, and he felt one hit his left thigh. He gritted his teeth as more pain flared through his body. Maverick found a large log and vaulted over it. The adrenaline seemed to numb the pain for now. He pushed himself against the log. The helicopter flew to him; Maverick had nowhere to run. Suddenly, the helicopter exploded. Maverick jumped slightly, looking up to the sky.

Rooster's plane had shot down the helicopter and was now flying above him. Unfortunately, SAM missiles locked onto him. Rooster had no more flares. Maverick watched with dread as Rooster's plane was hit, his eyes widening as the plane fell into the tree line.

"Dagger two is hit!" The communicator sounded shocked, he turned to Cyclone. "Dagger two is hit," he repeated. Cyclone looked away.

"Dagger two, come in." Phoenix's voice was heard over the comms. She hadn't seen Rooster leave. She hadn't seen him get shot down by the SAM missile. "Dagger two, do you copy?" She sounded even more worried when she didn't get an answer. Hondo wiped a tear from his face as he witnessed the conversation between the two teammates.

"Dagger two, come in!" Pheonix was pleading now. Hangman was in complete shock. Sure, he and Rooster had their differences and their arguments, but they were still a team, and he cared about him.

Maverick started racing towards the trees. He saw that Rooster was able to eject and parachute, but it wasn't going to be a soft landing. He didn't even know if he was okay after impact. Maverick ignored the throbbing pain in his head, hip and thigh; he had to get to Rooster. He kept running, panting. He finally found Rooster and yelled, "You alright?" while still running.
Rooster looked up. He had a few scratches on his face, and he was slightly paler than usual. He shook his head, shaking. "No," he gasped, "No, I think I broke something."

Maverick ran and knelt beside him. He was angry that Rooster was down here with him, but there were more important things to take care of. "Where?" he asked.

Rooster moved his gloved hand from his arm. It felt swollen to the touch and broken. Maverick groaned in frustration. "Okay, yah, nope. That's broken." He gently took Rooster's arm in his hands and rolled up the sleeve.

Rooster sucked in a breath; his eyes were clenched tightly shut. Already there was bruising and swelling. Maverick ran he hand gently along Rooter's skin. He could feel the bone prodding at the skin. "Stay right here, okay? I'll be back as soon as possible." Maverick stood up with some difficulty, he noticed that he was bleeding a little more heavily. He ignored it for now.

Maverick scanned the ground around them, looking for a stick. How in the entire world can I not find a single stick, in a forest? He wondered. Running back to where he had crashed, Maverick gathered the sticks off the ground, and also grabbed his rucksack. It was starting to get dark out. He knew that enemies would soon be out hunting for them, but he also knew that they needed to stay warm to survive. Finally, he made it back to Rooster, who was shivering in the cold.

"I'm so sorry it took too long." Maverick apologized, quickly kneeling again. "I couldn't find any sticks."

He gently grabbed Rooster's arm, "I'm going to try and set the bone, then stabilize the arm with a stick. It will hurt, okay? Just, try not to yell; I don't want anyone to find us here." He explained. Rooster nodded, a tear falling down his face. "Actually," Maverick pulled off his leather glove, "Put this between your teeth, alright?" Rooster nodded again, and took the glove with his other hand, putting it between his teeth.

"On the count of three." Maverick had gently put his hands where he could feel the bone. He also could feel where the bone was supposed to be. "One…" Rooster took a deep breath. "Two…" It was eerily quiet, except for their labored breaths and the occasional sound of wind in the trees. "Three!" Maverick quickly pushed the bone back into place. Rooster gave out a muffled scream, and fell backwards onto the snow, clutching his arm. "Hey, hey," Maverick was in pain; physically and emotionally. He really didn't want to hurt Rooster. "Shhh, it's okay. I got you."

Maverick quickly went through the contents in his rucksack and found bandages. "It's okay." He repeated, his heart was pounding, Rooster was still whimpering in pain. "I'm so sorry Bradley. I'm so sorry." He mumbled. Maverick grabbed a sturdy stick and arranged it to act like a splint. Then he grabbed the bandages and started wrapping the arm up tightly. Rooster moaned, the tears falling freely, stinging his cheeks. Maverick sighed, "I'm so sorry." He repeated.

Rooster lay there in the snow, gasping for air. It hurt to breath. It stung his lungs, his eyes watered from pain and cold. His head throbbed. But Mav was alive. He was right there. Like he said he would be.

The adrenaline was leaving his body, and Maverick could feel the pain building up. Maverick did a body check. He needed to wrap up his thigh. His hip was probably out of its socket. He would need to fix that too. He probably suffered a mild concussion. Although the good news was that he hadn't suffered any chest injuries. At least, to his knowledge. The worst threat right now was hypothermia and bleeding out.

He decided that hypothermia was more important to focus on right now. He grabbed Rooster's parachute, which had been laying untouched on the ground. It was mostly white and could hide them well in the snow. So, he went about, limbing and gathering fallen logs, creating a small shelter. Maverick picked up Rooster, who was still not moving; he's probably fainted from exhaustion and pain. Using the last light of day, Maverick bandaged himself up, he couldn't get his hip back in its socket; he needed Rooster to help with that. Rooster's breathing was a little off, Maverick was a little concerned, but he couldn't find anything wrong externally. Hopefully it was nothing. The shelter was small and well hidden. The parachute kept the heat in, so at least they had no danger of hypothermia just yet.

Maverick pulled out a walkie-talkie from a rucksack. He had no idea what frequency the carrier was on. He should have paid attention to that meeting, stupid, stupid. Besides, the only thing he got was static. They were blocked by a mountain range. The best plan they had was to head back towards sea, get to higher ground and avoid detection.

The only thing Maverick could do now was wait and pray that they would be found soon. They needed help.