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Chapter Text

Delayed. 

Harry had a surgery in fourteen hours and his flight was delayed. The nice woman in front of him was typing on her computer and giving him a sympathetic face. He tried to listen, but once he heard the dreaded word, he zoned out. Possibly what would be the most important surgery and could, and would, solidify his career and make his name known in the medical field, and he was stranded in Salt Lake City. 

The hustle and bustle of the Salt Lake City International Airport faded into the background of his life; people running to gates, running from gates, packing kids and strollers and bags of luggage. The smells of Starbucks and the airport McDonalds mixed with the cold air coming in from the automatic doors. He kept his bag close, protective over it in the airport environment. He felt himself dissociating.  

"Sir?" Her nametag read Janet, and he tuned back in. "I'm so sorry, but the airline has just canceled your flight. There's a storm system moving in and expected to hit within the hour. All flights are grounded. I can get you a voucher - " 

A commotion behind him, and he found himself surrounded by more angry people. They were lining up behind him, one even shouting towards Janet. She became flustered. To his left, a few feet away, he noticed another man trying in vain to get a different flight. He couldn't help but overhear the stranger's frustrated pleas - " - nothing? If I can get a flight to Denver or Kansas City, then I'll be fine. I'm getting married tomorrow morning - " 

"Listen," Janet raised her voice and held up a hand. It did little to calm the crowd. "The airline is prepared to hand out hotel vouchers and shuttle you there and back. All flights will be rescheduled at the earliest convenience."

"There's nothing you can do? Not even a flight to Denver? I just need to get to Denver. That's all." He asked again, though it was futile. Her kind eyes told him everything he needed to know. He wasn't leaving Salt Lake City International Airport anytime soon. He nodded and stepped back, allowing the crowd to swarm Janet. He stalked across the shiny floor and sat down heavily in a seat. He plugged his phone in and rubbed his temples. 

He sat in his own little world for awhile. He purchased some snacks and shoved them in his bag. He texted his mentor. He pulled out his laptop and studied the surgical case. He made notes. He gave it about twenty minutes of his time before he couldn't focus anymore. The sounds were too much. He shoved his laptop into his bag and stood, stretching. He walked over to the windows and watched the airplanes on the runway. Janet was right, all flights were grounded. He looked at the sky. He was no meteorologist, but he could tell that something was moving in. Resigned, he sat back down in his seat and tipped his head back. 

There was some noise next to him, and then he felt a body sit down next to him. His annoyance skyrocketed. He lifted his head. The stranger next to him was the same one he saw earlier at the counter. He watched as the stranger was rifling around in his bag.  

"Sorry for your luck," He found himself saying suddenly. He usually kept to himself, not interested in small talk with strangers. But a stranger missing their wedding was pretty sad, and warranted a small conversation. 

The stranger looked at him, and holy fuck, he was handsome. If the delicate facial features didn't capture someone's attention first, the bright blue eyes surrounded by long, thick lashes would surely do the trick. 

"What?" The stranger asked, but seconds later realization dawned on him, and he settled back against the chair with a sigh. "Oh. You overheard me, then."

"I did." Harry nodded. "Kind of hard not to, you were almost yelling."

The stranger smiled. His blue eyes twinkled, and Harry could see something else in them. Mischief, maybe?  "Yeah, well I feel bad about that now, but it was so noisy and I couldn't hear. Also, I think if I yell, things will magically get done." 

He was the same way. "Unfortunately, that's not the case. I've learned that lesson the hard way." He said. "I'm kind of in the same boat."

Stranger's eyebrows raised. "You're getting married in ten hours too?" Another small smile revealed two rows of white teeth behind soft pink lips. 

"Oh, no, nothing like that," Harry shook his head. "But that's a terrible situation." 

The stranger shrugged. "I guess." His eyes swept the enormous airport laid out around them. He people-watched. He found it fascinating. His profession allowed him to just sit and watch, so he'd gotten pretty good at it. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, maybe less than two minutes. Harry watched a mother wrangle two toddlers while her teenage daughter was buried in her phone. He felt bad. He turned to the person next to him. "So, if you don't get married - " Harry began, but the stranger cut him off, pointing. He followed the line of sight and landed on a sign with a helicopter on it. 

"Private charter," The stranger said. He stood, pulling his bag up onto the chair. He made quick work of tugging his winter coat on, and looked at Harry expectantly. "Are you coming?"

Harry blinked. Was he dreaming? "Coming? Where?" He looked around. People were settling in the airport restaurants, flooding the McDonalds  and California Pizza Kitchen's. The line to Starbucks was insane. Groups were flocking to the complimentary phone chargers. No one was going anywhere. 

He watched as the stranger pulled his backpack on and grabbed his suitcase. "The private charter? Maybe we can charter a flight to Denver. I doubt it's very expensive." He tugged on a pair of gloves and looked at Harry again. He looked so convincing. 

He hesitated. It wasn't like he didn't have the money to charter a private plane. But a private plane didn't have wifi, or a bathroom, or coffee and greasy fast food. Not to mention, they would be safe inside of the airport. But, he did want to get to Boston. He hated feeling stuck.

He found himself shaking his head, watching the stranger's face fall slightly. "Listen, I don't think that's a very good idea. With the weather - " He was interrupted once more. 

"What's the harm in at least asking?" The stranger pleaded. His eyes looked so convincing. Convincing enough that Harry found himself standing and gathering his things. Was he on autopilot? It was like he had no control as he pulled on his hat and gloves, or as he followed the stranger through the throngs of people. The lines for the airport shuttle and taxis were snaking through the airport, and once they were outside in the cold, crisp air, he found himself glad to be away from that nightmare. The fresh air felt nice. 

They walked across the parking lot, breath puffing in front of them like dragons smoke. The temperature was dropping, and the sky was darkening. He hoped that they'd be able to fly out while it was still light out. He wished he'd remembered what Janet had said about the winter storm system; what time it would be arriving. 

"I'm Louis, by the way," The stranger stopped and turned to him suddenly. His hand was out for Harry to shake, and Harry marveled their size difference. It was hard to ignore when they were standing together, but Louis' smaller hand in his almost sent him over the edge. 

"Harry." He introduced, finally cracking a smile. With the way his day had been, he didn't think it was possible. 

"I guess I forgot to introduce myself," Louis laughed about it. In fact, he giggled about it until they were at the helicopter hangar. They stepped inside the massive room. "Hello?" Louis called out. In the center of the hangar was a little white plane with blue swirls across it. The nose was painted blue too. 

They heard tip-tapping, and were greeted with a yellow lab. The dog barked once and sat before them, tail wagging. Harry looked to Louis, but the boy was dropping down to his knees and rubbing the dog's head, cooing. 

"Hello?" Harry called out again. He wondered if they were alone. Maybe the place was closed?

"Yeah?" A voice called out, and a few seconds later, a man in overalls appeared. "How can I help you?" He looked friendly, maybe in his late fifties or early sixties. He reminded Harry of his grandfather, whom he missed terribly. 

"We'd like to charter a flight to Denver," Louis said from the floor. "To leave as soon as possible."

"If that's possible," Harry tacked on. He looked back at the small plane. He wouldn't mind staying at the airport anymore. 

The man nodded. "Ah, airport shut down then." He surmised. He gestured for them to follow him. "I've been listening to the forecast, saw it coming. Big storm moving in, supposed to dump at least eight feet of snow. But weathermen are never right. It's the only job where you can be consistently wrong and not get fired. I'm Beau, nice to meet y'all." 

"Harry, and Louis," Harry introduced. He shifted his bag from one hand to the other. "How long do you expect the flight to be?"

Beau led them into his office, a small little room with a wooden desk, rolling chair, and filing cabinet. There was a dog bed in the corner, and the dog trotted over to it and laid down with a huff. A coffee pot was dripping fresh coffee into it. 

"Any destination in mind?" He asked. Behind him, on the wall, was a map of the United States. Next to that, a map of the world. There were some thumbtacks scattered across both. He noticed Harry staring at it. "Places I've flown. Bucket list sort of thing."

"That's very fascinating," Harry complimented. "Any place your favorite?" 

Beau shrugged and shook his head. "Haven't found it again, to be honest." He answered. He sounded sad all of a sudden. "Once your favorite place is gone, it's hard to get back."

Harry didn't know how to answer, and he could tell that Louis was uncomfortable beside him. How could they respond to that? 

"Any particular destination?" Beau asked again, eyebrows raised. "That makes a difference." 

Harry looked at Louis. "Uh, Denver maybe?" He said, and Louis nodded, saying it was good for him too. "Denver, if possible. They haven't grounded any flights, so..."

"I'll get y'all there in a few hours, I'm sure. If we leave now we should make great time. Are y'all ready to go? There's a bathroom over there," Beau pointed. "I'll get my things together and meet you by the plane."

Beau did as he said, and Harry and Louis respectively used the bathroom and met by the plane. It was bigger than Harry had expected, but also smaller than he'd realized. 

"Will our luggage fit?" Harry asked, gesturing to the four bags between them. 

Beau nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem. There's more room in there than it looks. Y'all ready? Hop in." He pulled the door open and ushered them inside. Louis first, and then Harry, and then the dog, to their surprise. 

"The dog?" Louis asked, but he reached forward and rubbed the lab's forehead. He sounded excited, and it seemed the dog was loving all of the pets he was getting. 

"He's my copilot." Beau stated, passing them back big headphones. After that, it sounded like he was yelling. "He goes with me everywhere. Had him since he was eight weeks old." 

Over the whirring of the engine and the jolt of the plane moving forward, Louis leaned forward. "What's his name?" He yelled. 

"Raleigh," Beau hollered back. 

After that, the takeoff was bumpy and Louis sat back in his seat. They were buckled in, but Harry was still  nervous. He'd never been in a plane that small with a stranger and a pilot and a dog. It was all very surreal, but he would put up with it. He was going to get to Denver, and get a flight, and be in Boston in time for his surgery. 

"Did you file the flight plan?" Louis leaned forward once more. "That was quick." 

Harry saw Beau shake his head. From the view he had of the pilot's side profile, he saw a grimace on his face. He frowned, but waited for Beau to answer Louis' question. 

"No need, still daylight." Beau answered. "We'll get there right after sunset." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a little roll of Tums. Harry watched as he chewed two. His medical instincts kicked in, and he leaned forward. 

"Beau, you alright?" He asked, hooking one hand on the seat in front of him. He tried not to look through the window in the front. He hated heights, and it felt like they were flying through space. It made him nauseous. 

"I'm okay, just some heartburn." Beau answered, but he rubbed at his neck and shoulder. "Been killing me since this morning."

Harry frowned. "When we land in Denver, you should go to the emergency room." He suggested. "Just to be on the safe side." 

Beau laughed and looked back at Harry. "You a doctor or something?" 

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but the plane pitched forward suddenly. They dropped in altitude and Beau corrected before it happened again. Then, Harry watched as Beau slumped forward on the controls. The plane plummeted. 

"What's going on?" Louis yelled from the back. Harry couldn't focus on him right now. His concern was the unconscious pilot. He unbuckled himself and pulled Beau up from the controls. He pressed two fingers to Beau's clammy neck and felt no pulse. 

"Beau?" He hollered. He jostled the pilot, but it was futile. They were losing altitude at an alarming rate. The dog was whining, and Louis was panicking. To be fair, he was too. He reached for the controls just as they made impact. The plane was thrown sideways, into a tailspin. The back part of the plane was ripped off and the cabin was filled with cold, frosty air. 

He sat back in his seat and braced himself. From his peripheral vision, he saw Louis clutching the whining dog. He felt sick. They were spinning. He prepared for impact. His head was swimming. He was dizzy. He wondered how long before they crashed. How does one prepare themselves for a plane crash? 

He inhaled. His body was thrown as the plane hit something hard and jostled them back and sideways. He felt his head hit the side of the plane. And then, everything went black. 

-

Harry came to slowly. It hurt to breathe. He had at least one fractured rib, if not more, and if not broken. His temples were throbbing and he tasted blood in his mouth. He opened his eyes. It was dark outside. He could hear whimpering. He attempted to sit but his vision went black again. 

The next time he came to, there was light filtering in and he was freezing. He was able to move this time, and with a pained groan, he sat up. He was squished up near the front of the airplane. His chest hurt with every breath that he took, but he was quickly remembering where they were and what happened. 

They had chartered a plane. The pilot had a heart attack. 

The pilot. 

Harry ignored his pain and shifted his body until he could see Beau. He was up against the wind screen, eyes closed. He was dead. That was apparent. And sad. Beau was a good man. He sat back and looked around the shredded plane. He crawled forward to Louis, who was unconscious and bleeding. His face was pretty banged up. There was an obvious laceration across his temple. His face was bruised and swelling. His hair had blood in it. 

"Forgive me for what I'm about to do," He mumbled. He maneuvered Louis, praying that he had no spine or neck injuries. He pressed his hands against bones and his belly, searching for internal bleeding. There were no compound fractures on the arms. His belly felt normal. His pulse was elevated, and Harry found out why seconds later. Louis' left leg was broken. It was swollen. Painfully so. 

He dug around in the mess of the airplane and found his luggage. His chest was aching and his lungs were burning. He was exhausted just from moving around. When he found his luggage, he nearly wept. He was so thankful he traveled with a surgical first aid kit. That was what he called it. He'd been inspired, watching movies where someone in a restaurant would jump up and yell, 'is there a doctor here?'. He'd packed it full of what he deemed to be essential. He pulled out some scissors and cut Louis' pant leg. The break looked terrible. 

He worked through his own pain to create a makeshift splint for the broken leg. When he tightened it, Louis groaned. He was coming to, and he would panic when he did. 

And Harry was right. Louis panicked for twenty seconds before leaning over to retch. Harry looked away as Louis threw up, and when he passed out again, Harry continued. Once the splint was made, he packed some snow around it to keep the swelling down. Then, he dug through their bags until he found a foil blanket in the airplane first aid kit. 

He tucked it all around Louis and, despite his swimming head, cleared a little area in front of them, found debris, and pulled the matches from the first aid kit. He lit the debris with shaking hands and wanted to cry when it created a fire. They would be warm soon, and after some rest, they would figure out what to do. 

Raleigh moved from his position by Louis and walked towards the small fire. Miraculously, the dog made it through the entire plane crash with no visible injuries. But just to be safe, he ran his hands all over the yellow lab. 

"Sorry, boy." He grunted. He was getting choked up. Raleigh whined and sat down, trying to get warm. Harry was hoping that with such a small space, it wouldn't take long to heat up. And there was plenty to burn, papers were everywhere, and if worse came to worse, he could burn a pair of his pants or some socks. 

He left Raleigh and Louis and stepped outside of the wreckage. They were surrounded by white, and he assumed they were on a mountain somewhere in Utah. They were high up, too. The air was thin and cold. He would guess that it was maybe five or ten degrees outside, but not much more. There were no trees, so he couldn't find any firewood. They would have to either wait it out or leave the wreckage and climb down the mountain, into unknown territory. 

There wasn't much for him to do, and his chest was screaming at him, so he crawled back into the plane and laid down by Raleigh. He reached for his first aid kit. He had ibuprofen and took four, swallowing what was left in his water bottle. 

He laid back and let the ibuprofen do it's magic. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to come to terms with their situation. They were stranded. No one knew where they were. No flight plan was filed. He was with a complete stranger. An injured stranger. And until Louis woke up, he couldn't figure out the extent of his injuries. He was responsible for a dog. They had fire, but for how long? They had little food. 

Next to him, Raleigh whined and put his snout on Harry's leg. Harry reached over and petted the dog. Raleigh kept whining, and it took Harry longer than he liked to admit to realize that Raleigh was whining because his owner was laying deceased two feet away. That had to be taken care of, and in the most respectful way he knew how, Harry shimmied Beau out of where he was wedged and dragged him out of the plane. 

"I'm sorry," He apologized to the dead pilot. Against his screaming ribs and lungs, he dragged Beau several dozen feet away and buried him in a shallow grave. "It's all I can do, Beau. Thank you for doing this for us. And...I'm sorry." He felt entirely responsible for Beau's death. Would the pilot have had his heart attack even if they didn't charter his plane? Probably. But his survival rate was much higher had he not be in the air when he had it. 

He returned to the plane and sat back down. Raleigh looked up at him forlornly. 

"This isn't real." He laid back, relaxing. He winced as the pain set in once more. "I'm going to sleep, and when I wake up, I'll be asleep in Boston."

-

When he woke up, it was dark again. The fire was out, and Louis was crying. He fumbled around blindly, trying to rely solely on the moonlight filtering in through the broken plane to help him. His fingers were so cold it hurt to flex them. 

"Louis,"  He said. His voice was hoarse. "Louis, it's Harry."

He heard Louis sniffle. "What happened?" Louis asked. His voice was edged in hysteria. 

"The plane crashed. Beau had a heart attack mid flight." He reached Louis by crawling on his knees and hovered over him. "Hey, listen to me carefully. You broke your leg. I don't know what else you hurt. I have pain medicine. You have to eat before you take it. I put some snow in my water bottle and slept with it so it melted. You can drink that. But listen, try not to move until I can assess you more thoroughly." 

Louis' breath was ragged. He could hear that much. "Okay." Louis whimpered. 

"Can you tell me what hurts right now?" Harry asked. "Besides your leg. I've already set that and packed snow around it to help with swelling. We have to make sure you don't get an infection." 

"My...my head hurts." Louis said. 

Harry used his fingers to navigate Louis' face, and he found the laceration across the temple. "You have a cut. You also are pretty banged up. You have bruising on your face. The swelling will go down. Thankfully, I don't have to stitch you up. Well, on your face anyway." 

"What are you, some kind of doctor?" Louis managed to let out a little laugh, followed by a whine of pain. Maybe it hadn't set in yet, that they'd wrecked on a mountaintop somewhere. 

"I am." Harry answered. He used his palms to press down across Louis' chest and ribs. "No pain?"

Louis grunted. "Maybe - maybe some tenderness. But no pain. I just, my leg. I feel sick." 

"I'll give you some food and water and you can take the pain medicine." Harry said. "I had a fire going earlier. I'll start another one."

Louis nodded. "You have matches?" He asked. 

"I do. My hobby is hiking. So I have some supplies with me in my bag. Matches, a knife, stuff like that." Harry answered. He sat next to Louis and managed to get another small fire started. He fanned the flames until they grew a little bit bigger. 

"Why do you carry pain medicine with you?" Louis asked. His speech was a little bit slurred. Harry chalked that up to the pain he was feeling. Delirium might be setting in. "Is that even legal?"

Harry rifled through his bag, procuring a bag of trail mix and beef jerky. He was thankful he'd bought it at the airport. "Sort of. It's prescription. It was prescribed to me a few months ago. I kept it. Which is irresponsible, but now, I am so glad I have it." 

"What is it?" Louis asked. "And can I have some? I feel sick."

"I know. Yes, you can have one. It's oxycodone, it's strong stuff. You need to eat before you take it. I have some trail mix and jerky. We have to ration, so you won't be able to eat a lot. But enough that it won't make you sick from taking it." Harry explained. "Hold out your hand."

He shook some trail mix into Louis' hand. His hand was also shaking. As he watched as Louis eat it piece by piece, he reminded himself to try and maneuver the boy to where he was closer to the fire. He didn't want to add frostbite to their list of injuries.  

"The dog," Louis said suddenly, panicked. "The dog, is he okay?" He sounded upset. He tried to sit up and wheezed in pain. 

"He's okay, miraculously. He's over here by me." Harry answered. He ate some trail mix himself. Just a few pieces. His mouth watered, but he couldn't eat anymore until he knew for certain they could leave. 

Louis nodded and laid back. When the trail mix was gone, Harry shook one oxycodone into his hand and watched him swallow it. 

"It'll kick in in a few minutes," Harry said. "And you'll sleep for a long time. I'll help you go to the bathroom. I have to check your urine anyway."

Louis was quiet for a moment, and then, "Why," He asked through gritted teeth. Harry contributed that to the combination of freezing weather, cold packed snow, and his broken leg. He must feel embarrassed. 

"It'll tell me if you have internal bleeding." Harry answered. "If you drink all of that water, let me know. I'll pack more snow in it. We have to let our bodies melt the water. We can't drink it cold. It'll lower our core temperature, which we don't want."

"Speaking of snow," Louis gestured to his leg. "I'm freezing. My leg is. Is there anything we can do about this?" He shifted, or tried to, and grunted in pain. He steadied his fists on his hips and exhaled. 

"No," Harry answered. "Not yet. And be careful. I'm still  not so sure you don't have any internal injuries. I did a crude exam after I came to, but I won't know for certain without proper tools."

Louis was quiet, but he nodded. He tipped his head back and leaned it against the cool interior of the plan. "What kind of doctor are you?" He asked. His voice was quieter; lower. HIs eyelids were drooping too. Harry had never seen oxy work so quickly, but there were, again, several contributing factors in their situation. 

Finally, a conversation that could distract them both from their hellish reality. "I'm a surgeon," He answered. He shifted so that his feet were closer to the fire. His toes were frozen. He was tempted to take his boots off. "Trauma surgeon."

Louis looked over at him. :"Ironic," He murmured. Then, "Isn't that kind of hard work?" He asked. "Mentally?" 

"It was. But I like it." Harry explained. "It involves different surgical procedures, so I have to know a lot. I like the adrenaline rush too."

Louis waved his hand around. "This must be heaven for you then." His tone was coarse and sarcastic, but there was a little grin on his face, and Harry couldn't help but mirror it. 

"Not so much. I like to deal with traumas when I have a team of doctors with me and the tools to fix it."

Louis hummed in response. His head was tilted back again and his eyes were closed. He was about to fall asleep, Harry could tell. 

"Louis," He said, moving closer. "If you wake up and I'm not here, I'm just trying to figure out a way to get us out of here, okay? Don't panic. If you wake up hungry or sick, there's trail mix over here. Raleigh will stay with you. I won't go further than yelling distance." 

Louis hummed again, quieter, and his body went lax. The oxy had finally kicked in, and Harry had hoped that it would take most, if not all, of the pain away. He needed Louis to be in working order if they were to get out of there alive. 

He crawled out of the plane, relieved himself, and looked all around. The moonlight cast a bright glow all around. He couldn't see very far. He couldn't hear anything, and hoped they were alone. The last thing they needed was company in the form of hungry animals. 

Had it already been a whole day? They'd slept the whole entire day? By now, people had to be looking for them. Beau's wife, for one. His family. Louis' family. They had to be looking. 

He walked back into the plane and sat down. He dug around for the water bottle. He took a sip. He was parched. He took a few more, and then rifled around in his bag. He procured a small metal pot. Being an avid hiker had its advantages. He poured some water into the pot and held it over the fire. With one hand, he fed some more paper into the flames, watching them grow higher. When the water was boiling, he poured some instant coffee into the pot and stirred. 

The aroma filled the small space and he leaned back and breathed it in slowly. His stomach rumbled. He allowed himself a small handful of trail mix and sipped his coffee slowly. It was not the gourmet coffee that he treated himself to every now and then, but at the time, it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. He savored it. He felt bad for the small indulgence, but what could he do? Louis was asleep, and would be asleep for quite some time. 

He finished his coffee and trail mix, and allowed himself to take two more ibuprofen. He had a bottle of it, but between the two and the nature of their injuries, and the fact they were possibly miles and miles from civilization, they might go through it quickly. 

"I'll get out and find you some food tomorrow, okay boy?" He petted Raleigh, and allowed the dog to curl up next to him. They both benefited from the warmth. 

-

When Louis woke up next, there was sunlight filtering through the shredded plane. At least twenty-four hours had passed. Maybe more. He was in so much pain that he remembered blacking out several times. Then the pain medicine Harry had given him had allowed him to sleep pain free for quite awhile. 

He shifted into a sitting position and pulled the foil blanket around himself tighter. He noticed the interior of the plane had been cleared of most of the debris. Their bags had been positioned in a row, perhaps for Harry to lean against as he slept? Whatever it was, it was a good block from the wind that whipped around the plane. 

Speaking of...Harry was nowhere in sight. He panicked. Suddenly, his leg was throbbing. It felt like it had a heartbeat. He felt the heat rising from it. Was that all from his accelerated heartbeat? From the panic he was feeling? 

Of course Harry left. He was able bodied. Louis was not. He'd cut his losses and taken Raleigh and began to hike down from whatever God awful mountain range they were on. Louis didn't blame him. Harry was a surgeon, probably a budding one at that. He was young, and in the prime of his life. He probably had a gorgeous girlfriend and loving family and a big apartment in the city waiting for him. He couldn't perish on the mountain. He couldn't wait for Louis' leg to heal. It would take weeks. Maybe longer, considering they had no food. 

He wiped his tears away but more fell in their place. He was alone, and hungry, and in pain. Could he leave too? Maybe he could take his time, figure out how to fashion a crutch from the debris, and make his way slowly down the mountain. It was worth a shot. He could sit there and cry and feel bad for himself, or he could follow Harry's footsteps and at least try to leave. He had to try. 

He took a deep breath and used the wall of the plane behind him to shift into a semi-standing position. This time, when tears fell, they were from the pain. His leg was throbbing. The snow that had been packed around it had helped tremendously, he saw that now. He leaned into the wall, his breath coming in short, sporadic bursts. He had to be careful not to fall. He could do this, he could make it out. 

He used the wall as his temporary crutch, crouched down as he limped his way to the opening of the plane. He was biting his lip so hard he could taste blood. He was getting dizzy. His broken leg was screaming at him. He was on the verge of passing out, he feared. But if he didn't try, then he would wither away inside of the shell of the plane. No one would find him. 

When he reached outside, he squinted against the sunlight. Despite the brightness, it offered no warmth, unfortunately. He clutched the exterior of the plane and glanced around. There was some debris near the entrance, assumingly put there by Harry. He leaned over and dug through it with one hand. Unfortunately, the shredded metal scraps would provide no help to him. There was nothing he could use to make a crutch. 

"Fuck," He whispered to himself. He could feel himself becoming hysterical. More tears were falling, this time out of desperation. He would have no choice but to walk on a broken leg down a mountain. He knew it would impair him permanently. He may walk with a limp forever. Or he could die. The choice was obvious. He needed to gather up his stuff, what he could carry, anyway, and head down. Maybe Harry left tracks in the snow. He would have to leave before any more snow began falling. 

He looked up at the sky. It was maybe midday. He could get a few hours in before darkness fell. Then, he had to make sure he was hidden underneath the cover of trees, or else he'd be food for the local wildlife. He could stop walking whenever he found a good spot to stop. That would be easy. And descending was always easier than ascending, right? He had gravity on his side. And maybe it would be warmer the closer he got to the bottom. Had he read that somewhere or made it up? Either way, it was enough to convince him to gather up his things. 

He was in tears with the first few steps he took. The snow was deeper than he thought it would be. It forced him to lift his feet up farther than he could. He couldn't do it. Not with his broken leg. He tried dragging it behind him, but was quickly rendered breathless and his core hurt. His body was exhausted. How was he going to make it down the mountain? 

"Louis?" He heard yelling in the distance, and a bark. Oh God. Was he already hallucinating? The yelling got closer. He saw Raleigh, who was a yellow blip jumping through the snow, happy as a clam. He suddenly wished for that blissful ignorance. Raleigh had no idea what was going on, but he was happy to be there. 

He wiped at his now frozen face and used his sleeve to wipe his nose. 

"Jesus Christ!" He heard Harry yell, and then strong hands were there on him, supporting his body. Just in time, too, because he went lax. "What were you thinking? Where were you going?" 

He allowed himself to be taken back into the plane and whimpered in relief when Harry sat him back down. Then, he was doted on. The blanket was pulled tightly across him and tucked in, his leg was packed with more snow, and he was handed half of a pain pill and some water, which he gladly accepted. 

"You're not just giving this to me so I'll sleep and you don't have to deal with me?" He tried to joke, but it fell flat. He was too emotional. He was going to cry, again. 

Harry crouched in front of him and frowned. "Why would you think that?" He asked. His voice was calm, sympathetic. It was the perfect voice for a doctor. "What were you doing out there, Louis? You could have died. Are you delirious? You must be."

It would have taken him hours to die. Harry was leaving. 

"Louis," Harry asked again. He was shaking some trail mix into his hand. He held it out. "Were you trying to leave?" 

He nodded. "I was trying to follow you." He answered. He didn't take the trail mix. Maybe it was his emotions, or the pain, or the pain meds, but his stomach was in knots. He didn't think he could stomach the little bit of food. 

"I wasn't leaving." Harry said. He held his hand out further. "Take this. You can't have that medicine on an empty stomach." 

Louis finally took it, mainly to get Harry to stop looking at him. He nibbled at it, and when Harry realized that he wasn't going to talk, he sighed and began making a fire. He had twigs collected. Louis failed to realize that he had an armful of them when he and Raleigh came running back. The fire was small, but soon Harry would feed it and it would grow to warm the entire small interior. 

"If you're upset, you can cry, you know," Harry said awhile later. He was propped up against their luggage, with Raleigh sleeping next to him. 

"Why do you think I'm upset?" Louis asked. 

Harry stared at him. "You keep wiping your eyes. You're crying." He said like it was obvious. "You don't have to hide it." 

"I'm not hiding anything." Louis crossed his arms. When was this pill going to kick in? 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine, pout." He adjusted himself further into the luggage and tipped his head back. The fire was picking up, crackling into the small space. Soon, it would be warm enough for them to both get some good sleep in the night. 

He bit his tongue and closed his own eyes. Though there was still sun in the sky, he was hoping to rush the effects of the medicine and sleep. Silence filled the room around them, and he focused on the sounds of Raleigh breathing in and out. The wind around them whipped. Involuntarily, he shivered beneath the foil blanket. 

He must have fallen asleep, because when he woke up next, it was dark outside. The fire was crackling, and he could smell coffee. Was he losing his mind? Where would they get coffee all the way up here? He pulled himself into a sitting position and looked around. 

Harry was sitting cross legged in front of the fire, sipping something from a camping mug. They made eye contact. 

"I need to look at your leg." Harry finally broke the silence. "To make sure you didn't cause yourself further damage." There was an edge to Harry's voice. He was upset. Irritated. And he had every right to be. 

"It feels fine." He lied. 

"It's broken," Harry reminded him, as if he was a child. "And you walked on it. You can't do that." 

"I'm well aware of that, doctor," He snipped. 

"Then why did you?" Harry asked. His voice was an octave higher, just enough to make Raleigh lift his head and whine. "It was irresponsible and stupid." 

"I thought you had left me - " Louis began. 

"And I'd have every right to, you know?" Harry interrupted. He sat up and uncrossed his legs. "It's your fault we're in this mess, that I'm in this mess. So I'd have every right to leave you here and to find my way down this God-forsaken mountain." 

Louis was surprised, and when Harry's rant was over, he blinked back burning tears. Harry was right, but hearing it out loud hurt more than he thought. They were strangers. They owed each other nothing. Being together in this situation made no difference. It was truly every man for himself. 

"You don't have to be so hateful about it." He settled on, and that was that. It was quiet again. He sat there until he heard Harry doze off. He watched as Raleigh left the wreckage, presumably to do his business. He kept his eyes on the open mouth of the plane until the lab came trotting back in. This time, the dog settled next to him. He groaned when he sat down. 

He tilted his head and looked down at Raleigh. "Tell me about it," He agreed. With the warmth the dog provided, alongside the fire, it was easy to fall back into a deep sleep. He doesn't know how long he slept, but something tugging and pulling on his leg roused him once more. 

It was Harry. He was crouched in front of him, holding a small flashlight between his teeth. He was using his hands to tighten the makeshift splint. When it squeezed, he inhaled sharply. Harry looked up, the flashlight now on his face. He shielded his eyes. 

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. He finished working on the splint and assessed the situation. "How does it feel? If it's too tight, let me know." 

"It feels fine." He answered quietly. He couldn't quite meet Harry's eyes. It was awkward now, the tension between them. It was palpable. He knew how Harry really felt about him now. And he had every right to feel that way. He sat still as Harry pressed down on the bare skin above the splint. It was tender and bruised. He finally sat back and cleared his throat. 

"Other than the splint, how does it feel," He couldn't meet Louis' eyes either. 

"It feels like a broken leg. Maybe hurts a little less than it initially did." He answered truthfully. Harry was a doctor, and he knew what he was doing. As angry as he was at the man, he didn't want to lie and risk further injury. 

Harry nodded. "Good, so the medicine is helping?" He asked. When Louis nodded, he crawled back over to where he'd been sitting the past few days and crossed his legs. "Good." He opened his water bottle and took a sip. He must have been filling it with snow and melting it while Louis slept. 

"Yeah," Was all Louis offered in return. 

After a few moments of silence, Harry spoke. "So, I was thinking," He began slowly. "We need to try and get down this mountain. I was looking outside and I could probably make a sled out of the door. It's thinner, so it wouldn't be hard to pull. I just need to figure out how to pull it. And then we need to take what we can and try to save ourselves." 

Louis frowned. "Pull?"

"You can't walk with your leg broken. And even though the snow is reducing swelling, you could still get an infection and damage it even further. And if that splint gets damaged, we're fucked." Harry explained. He licked his lips and looked over at Louis. Someone he didn't truly know; a complete stranger, who was now tied to him by one singular, life-altering event. Someone he now felt responsible for, for no reason whatsoever. Normally, he would have helped the other person as much as he could and then cut his losses. But he couldn't do this, not to the blue-eyed boy with good intentions. 

He dug through his bag with half-numb fingers and pulled out the trail mix. Raleigh perked up, and he felt so guilty, but the dog had caught a wild hare the evening before, so maybe he didn't feel as guilty. He gave a handful to Louis and took a handful for himself. They ate in silence. He wasn't going to push the idea of them leaving. He wanted Louis to ruminate on it. And even if the boy disagreed, he had a feeling he'd be giving him a double dose of the pain medication and taking him anyway. 

"You really think you could pull me down this mountain?" Louis finally asked. His voice was timid and tired. Their situation combined with a broken leg was a lethal combination. They should have left the mountain when they had their wits about them. 

He shrugged. "I think I could. But we wont' know until we try, right? Listen, we've been up here for almost two days. I can't die up here," He cleared his throat when he felt it tighten. "We can't die up here. I have a family, you have a family - a fiancé wondering where you are. You don't think people are worried about us?"

Louis cast his eyes downward. Just briefly, but Harry caught the movement. "Just the fiancé," He corrected quietly. Then, he sat up straighter and continued. "I don't...I don't have a family. Just the fiancé." 

"Oh," Harry didn't know what else to say. He knew his own family would be in hysterics, beating down doors and putting up posters to find him. To sit across someone knowing they didn't have the same to look forward to, to fight for, settled horribly on his conscience. 

"It's okay," Louis consoled unnecessarily. "I lost them when I was a baby. So...there's nothing to feel sad about." 

"What about your fiancé?" Harry asked, desperate to change the subject. They were getting uncomfortably real, and he'd even helped Louis use the bathroom and examined his urine, for Christ's sake. "She must be worried about you." 

Finally, a smile crawled over Louis' face. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there. He smiled as if there was an inside joke that Harry was not apart of. 

"What?" Harry asked. He felt his own smile appearing. He couldn't help it, Louis' was contagious. "What did I miss?"

"He," Louis answered. "My fiancé is a man." At Harry's surprised face, he continued. "Surely you can't be shocked. The smooth legs weren't a dead giveaway?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth. He had noticed that his legs were smooth...and tan. And thick. And if he'd wondered what they would feel like around his waist, or head, that was neither here nor there. 

"I didn't want to assume," Harry settled on. "But surely he's worried. We have to make it down. We have to at least try."

He was making a convincing argument. But Louis was scared. What if they got halfway down the mountain and realized there was no other way down? What if they got stuck, or fell through the ice, or got mauled by a grizzly bear or a wolf pack? What if they were caught in an avalanche or froze to death? God only knew how high up they actually were. 

"I'm scared." He finally admitted. He met Harry's eyes above the glow of the tiny fire. 

"Of staying?" Harry asked. "Or leaving?"

-

They started their journey early the next morning. Harry had spent most of the night fastening bungee cords to the bent plane door, while Louis spent the night downsizing their four bags into two. Harry would carry one on his back, and Louis would keep one on his front. He managed to fit what little clothes they had in Harry's big hiking backpack and put everything else in his smaller rucksack. 

While downsizing, he'd found his camera. By the grace of God, it hadn't been broken, and as Harry pulled him from the plane on the makeshift sled, he snapped a photo. He swallowed hard, and took a few more. Then, he tucked it away and stared up at the sky. He blinked away tears. He felt...he didn't know what he felt. Freedom? Hope? Fear? He was feeling it all. He tipped his head back and tried to catch a glimpse of Harry, who was walking at a brisk pace. He wondered what he was feeling. Probably sore. 

He turned his head and looked over at Raleigh. He was trotting happily along, undisturbed by the snow and cold. He seemed happy to be leaving. He wondered if Harry felt the same. With as fast as Harry was walking, he would assume that the man was thrilled to leave. 

He wished he felt the same. He just couldn't shake the feeling of dread. 

-

They made their first stop when night fell. Harry kept walking until he found a rock formation jutting out, providing some shelter from the snow that was beginning to fall. He managed to drag Louis underneath it before collapsing onto the pine needles covering the ground. He was panting hard, exhausted. 

"Are you okay?" Louis pulled himself into a sitting position and slid off of the sled. He landed right next to Harry. "How is your chest?"

Harry huffed a few times. "Feels like my ribs are broken." He breathed. "And only two or three of them are." 

Louis inhaled sharply. "Then what are you doing pulling me around?" He wanted to yell, but considering where they were, he didn't want to attract any hungry company. He settled for a quiet hiss instead. He pulled his bag into his lap and pulled out Harry's first aid kit. He dug around for the medicine. The glorious, wonderful narcotic that Harry had given him a few times. 

Surprisingly, Harry held up a hand. "No, I'm fine." He insisted. He crawled onto his hands and knees and stood, breathing heavily. "I'm going to go see if I can find any twigs to burn to keep us warm. Stay here. I won't go far." 

Louis protested, but it was futile. But, Harry stayed within eyesight, so he felt a little more at ease. He watched the man gather up small branches and dried pine needles. He caught the wincing every time Harry bent over. Even in the dark, it was obvious. 

When Harry returned, he dumped what he'd gathered onto the ground in front of them and collapsed once more. He held a hand to his chest, clutching it. Louis could tell he was in a tremendous amount of pain, so he leaned forward and assembled the twigs and needles into a pile. After finding a match, he lit the small fire, fanning the flames. He kept some dry ones back, thankful that he did once he saw how well they burned. 

"Uh, while I was organizing everything, I found these in my bag," He said, pulling out a box of protein bars. It was worth more than gold at that moment. "And I found some stray packets of oatmeal in your bag. But those are yours. But you can have some of these," He pulled out a bar and held it out to Harry. 

"Ours," Harry corrected quietly. His eyes were closed, but he held a hand out for the protein bar. "The food is ours. This situation isn't exclusive to either one of us. We have to share." 

"Fair enough." He agreed. He pulled out the bottles of water he'd been melting against his body heat on their descent. He handed one to Harry. "You still have pain medicine left, you should consider taking it."

Harry shook his head, taking a swig of water. "You need it more than I do."

"Harry, that's stupid."

"You have a broken bone." 

"So do you," Louis countered. "And I'm not moving mine. You're up and walking and digging around through the snow. You need it more than I do." 

"Louis," Harry's tone was firm. "That's enough. We're not talking about it anymore." He bit off a piece of the protein bar and chewed. Louis settled back, finally getting warm from the small fire. He was tired, but surely not as tired as Harry was. He sipped his water and looked around. It was scarily dark around them, and it unnerved him. They were fairly hidden from view, thanks to the rocks and shrubbery. He just hoped that no animals had the same idea and wanted to take shelter where they were for the night. 

"I heard a camera earlier," Harry spoke after what felt like hours of silence. In fact, it was so quiet that he had assumed Harry was asleep. 

"Yeah, it was mine. I took a picture of the plane." He answered. 

Harry opened his eyes and looked over. "Why do you have a camera?" Then, he chuckled. "I don't know anything about you. We might as well get to know each other."

He was right. "I'm a journalist." Louis answered. "Not a very good one. I'm freelance right now. And believe it or not, it's really hard to get a job as a photographer."

"I think as long as you're passionate about something, the job search would be worth it." Harry said. 

"Were you always passionate about becoming a doctor?" Louis asked. He sipped at his water to quell the hunger. 

"I was not. I actually wanted to be a museum curator." Harry's answer was surprising. But he could picture the man in a suit and tie, walking around a museum, dictating where pieces went and orchestrating exhibits. To be fair, he could also picture the man in scrubs, performing life-saving surgery. Both images were a turn on. 

"How did you know you wanted to be a surgeon?" He asked. 

Harry shifted and grunted. "Kind of by accident. Well, literally. When I was fifteen, I was in an accident with some friends. I was fine, but the adrenaline rush I got helping them really made me think. It also made me realize I enjoyed helping people feel better. I was in my element. So, I buckled down and graduated early, and busted my ass in medical school."

"Forgive me, but you seem too young to be a trauma surgeon." Louis said. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-seven. I excelled in medical school, and was picked up pretty young to be mentored." Harry answered. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-four. Well, in...on Christmas Eve I'll be twenty-four." He said. Then, he laughed bitterly. "I don't even know what day it is." 

"Unfortunately, my watch doesn't tell what day it is. But if I haven't completely lost my mind, it's been three nights as of right now that we've been stranded. We're going on the morning of the nineteenth." Harry estimated. "We should be anyway, if I'm not wrong. So, you were getting married on the sixteenth?" 

Louis nodded. "I was. We were." 

"Why that date? Why not closer to Christmas or your birthday?" Harry questioned. 

He shrugged. "No reason, I suppose. It was just a date that popped into my head and we stuck with it. Then, we said we'd have a week honeymoon, and then it would be my birthday, and then Christmas. Nathan said it would be like one, big celebration."

"Is Nathan your fiancé?" Harry asked carefully. He watched as Louis nodded and sipped some more at his water. "You can eat, you know. You have to keep your strength up." 

Louis shook his head. "I'd rather you be getting the lion's share of the food, if we're honest. You're doing most of the work. I can go a few more days without food." 

"That's not how we're playing this, Louis." He leaned forward and slid Louis' bag towards him. He pulled out his camping pot and a packet of oatmeal. "Hope you like brown sugar and cinnamon." 

"Seriously, Harry," He protested. "I'd be fine with the trail mix. You eat the oatmeal and the protein bars. And who knows, maybe you can make some sort of weapon and get a rabbit or deer or something - " 

Harry looked at him over the pot of water he was holding over the small fire. "That's doable, but not really something we can bank on. We have yet to see a wild animal. Which I am thankful for, considering what sort of animals are probably up here. We're only going to be up here for a little while longer. It wouldn't matter if we ate all of this tonight." 

Louis' heart bloomed at Harry's unwavering optimism. The man was determined to get down off of the mountain. He wished he shared in it. "Harry..." He began. Harry must've read his tone, because when he lifted his eyes again, they were soft.  

"I'm getting you out of here, Louis," Harry said. His voice was so gentle it almost made Louis tear up. "You're not going to celebrate your birthday on this mountain." 

A lump grew in his throat, and he tried to discreetly wipe his eyes. There was no point. Harry had seen him cry before and would undoubtedly see him cry again. "Thank you," He managed to whisper. He was desperate to change the subject. "Do you have a...lover at home?" 

Harry smiled and shoo his head. "I do not. I don't date exclusively. The longest relationship I've had is with the hospital I work at." He met Louis' eyes over the fire. "I try to keep things casual. When I date, it's men, and it's just that: a date. Singular." 

"Hookup." Louis corrected, half-joking, half not. But it got another laugh out of Harry. 

"You're blunt." Harry said. The water in the little camping pot was finally boiling, so he dumped the oatmeal into it and stirred quickly. "Let this sit for a few minutes. It's hot and the oats need to absorb." 

"Thank you," Louis repeated, taking the small pot from Harry. He sat it on the ground beside him and held his palms over the fire. It was warming up, but he had a chill. "Will you split it with me?"

Harry chuckled. "Nice try, but no. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you've eating, and that was just the equivalent of rabbit food. But thank you anyway. That's very kind of you to offer." 

Louis shrugged and leaned back. The rock behind him was cool. He hated to sit against it, but he had no choice. Maybe he would try and sleep on his side tonight, with his back to the fire, and then alternate sides throughout the night. He would need help doing it, and he didn't want to wake Harry up every few hours to help him. He'd figure it out. 

"So, if you could eat anything right now, what would it be?" Harry asked. He'd crossed his legs in front of himself and folded his hands over his stomach. 

"What a dangerous question to ask when there's a chance we could be trying to eat each other in a week," He answered with a grin. He used the camping spoon and stirred his oatmeal while he thought of an answer. "I'm so hungry that this question should be easy to answer. What would you eat?" 

A wistful smile appeared across Harry's face. "A big, fat cheeseburger, I think," He sighed. "With romaine lettuce, tomato, and a bright red onion. And fries, of course." 

"That might be my answer." Louis wanted to groan at the thought of a juicy cheeseburger in his hands. He could almost feel the grease running down the sides of his hands and taste the sharpness of the onion and the acidity of the tomato and the softness of the bun. 

"Might?" Harry sounded affronted. "It's the best answer one could give." 

"I don't know, I think I'd want tacos. Real, authentic tacos. Ones with shrimp, beef, chicken, all of it. I think that could beat your burger." He shrugged. "Or at least give it a run for it's money."

Harry mulled it over. "Eh, maybe, but at this point, I'd take anything offered." Then, he gave Louis a pointed look. "Except for your oatmeal. You need to eat it so you can sleep. Just in case you want to take half of the pain pill."

Louis picked up the now-warm oatmeal and stirred it again. It was thick and creamy and probably the best thing he'd smelled in a long time. "Harry, will you please share this with me?" As he asked, he scooted himself over until he was next to the man. "Please." 

They were leg to leg, tucked up in the corner of their little almost-cave. Raleigh stood and walked over to where Louis was sitting. He plopped down, presumably because he knew it was warm. 

"I'll take a bite and you take a bite." He said. "This made more than I thought." 

"You need to eat it all." Harry sighed. "I'll eat some trail mix if it will make you feel better." 

"Thank you, it would." Finally appeased, he took his first bite, and found himself unable to stop. He was hungrier than he realized. They ate in silence, Harry crunching his little handful of trail mix and his spoon scraping the metal of the bowl the only sounds. 

When they were finished, Harry rinsed the bowl out and packed more snow into his water bottle. Then, he stepped out and found another bunch of twigs and dried pine needles. He sat them in a pile and moved the sled to block their little entrance. It helped cut out wind tremendously. He fed the fire some more, then dug out some medicine for Louis. 

"Do I have to take it?" Louis asked. 

"I recommend it. You have a broken bone, Louis. But it's up to you. You can always take it if you wake up in pain. I'll set it on top of the bag." Harry answered. 

"Okay. Um, do you think you could help me sleep on my side tonight?" He asked. There would be some delicate maneuvering, but he didn't sleep very well on his back. And once he explained it to Harry, the man nodded. 

"I think it would work best if I laid here, with my back to the rock, and then you laid in front of me. That way, if you needed to roll over, just use my body as a crutch to help roll you over." Harry said. "With the sled blocking most of the wind, the fire should stay most of the night. And the body heat would help if the fire did go out." 

Louis nodded. "Okay, that sounds fine to me." 

Harry made himself comfortable, tucking one end of the foil blanket underneath his body so that it would trap their body heat,  and he held the rest up as he helped Louis turn to his side. It was his left leg that was broken, and as it rested on his right leg, some pain blossomed but it wasn't unbearable. But he knew he would be uncomfortable. Harry read his mind and handed him a pill and the water bottle. 

"Done?" Harry asked, and he nodded. He got comfortable and Harry tucked the rest of the foil blanket around him. He used his folded arm as his pillow and closed his eyes. Harry shifted for a moment behind him, then settled. 

"Good night, Harry," He was tired, and could feel the exhaustion creeping up on him. He was sure that Harry was ten times more exhausted than he was, and he sent a quick prayer for a peaceful night of sleep. 

-

There was something nudging and pulling at Harry. In the throes of sleep, he couldn't tell what it was. He didn't want to open his eyes, but it was persistent. He eventually came to his senses, realizing where he was and that it was Louis pulling at his shoulder. The boy was turning around, trying to get comfortable. He could hear the little grunts and whimpers. 

He opened his eyes. The fire was still burning, so it was hard to tell what time it was. He felt like he'd been asleep for awhile though. Louis was propped up on one elbow, biting his lip when he tried to accommodate his broken leg. 

"Here," He shifted his own legs to allow Louis to rest his broken one between them. "Does that feel better to have the support under it?" 

Louis nodded. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." 

"Don't be. I told you to use me if you needed help." Harry said. "And I need to put more on the fire anyway." 

"I did before I rolled over." Louis informed him. "Should be good for awhile." 

"Thank you." 

Louis nodded again. "Welcome." He was sleepy again. They were face to face, well- face to chest, considering how much taller Harry was than him. The foil blanket was keeping them warm, and he felt himself being lulled into sleep once more. Then, "Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you called them chips, not fries," He mumbled. All he got was a huff of laughter in return. 

-

Over the next day and a half, Harry estimated they walked at least four miles. It was hard to tell, because of the awful terrain. There were some moments where they had to go back up in order to get down. It was all very confusing, but he knew they were getting close. He hoped so. Something wasn't right inside of him. It might be the broken ribs causing more damage, and he needed to rest, not pull a makeshift sled behind him. 

Louis was quiet for most of their descent, only speaking when they camped for the night. The first night, they slept great. The second night, Louis was too scared. They were more exposed than they'd been the first night, and he'd heard howling in the distance that made him stay wide-awake while Harry slept soundly. Even Raleigh slept through it. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there were wild animals closing in on them. 

Harry pulled them to a fallen down tree and stopped. He sat down and took a few deep breaths, as deep as the pain in his chest would allow. Raleigh ran through the snow in front of him. Louis stayed on the sled, presumably asleep. He tilted his head back and looked at the sky. It wasn't snowing, thankfully. The further they got down the mountain, the less it snowed. 

Raleigh barked and took off for something. Normally, Harry wouldn't be alarmed, but the dog's growling is what set him on edge. He stood and walked cautiously behind where the dog ran off to. His heart was thumping irregularly. He was expecting to see a bear, or a wolf or a moose. Instead, he was led to a clearing. Despite the circumstances, he was in awe of the nature around him. The snow was clean and white, the air was crisp and the trees glistening with icicles. 

He looked around. They were still pretty high up, he could tell. All he could see was trees in the distance. And - was that - he stepped forward and squinted. In the horizon, it looked like a cabin. A series of them, actually. They looked to be maybe a mile away, maybe two. And it looked like a straight shot. He felt no apprehension when he hurried back to where he'd left Louis, who was starting to stir. 

"Hey," He gathered the bungee cords and whistled for Raleigh. "I think I saw a cabin. It's a little ways away, but I think we can make it before nightfall if we really push through. Let me know if you get uncomfortable or need to readjust. I just want to get there." 

"A real cabin?" Louis asked. He wasn't being sarcastic or mean. But in his brain, the thin mountain air could make them hallucinate. And days without proper nutrition could also make them hallucinate, he feared. 

Harry nodded, and then remembered Louis couldn't see him. "Yeah, I think so." He answered. With Raleigh ahead of them, bouncing along and kicking up snow behind him, he finally grinned. They had a real chance of finding proper shelter. Maybe there was a satellite phone. Hopefully some food.  

Whatever lay ahead, it was bound to be better than what they had. 

-

By the time sunset rolled around, Harry had about half a mile more to the cabin. He could see the roof in the distance. Hope grew within him. He knew they could make it before night fell, they just had a little bit further to go. Behind him, Louis was chattering away, filling the otherwise quiet air around them. It was perfect nonsense, but it was enough to keep Harry motivated to push forward. 

He trudged forward, pleased with how smooth the sled was now gliding. The snow gave way easily underneath it, which was a pleasant change from it piling up in front of it every so often. It would make him have to move around in a zigzag for awhile. He hated it. But now, it was smooth sailing. It wasn't until he looked down that he realized the only reason the sled was moving so good. 

They were standing on ice. 

Suddenly, the world around him seemed very fuzzy. He was hyperfocused on the ice underneath his feet. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. How had he not looked to see where he was going? How had it never crossed his mind? How could he have been so stupid?

"Harry?" Louis asked from behind him. "Why did we stop?" 

As if the ice was listening, there was the sound of cracking. Harry looked around. He could sort of see where the bank would be. It was maybe ten feet ahead. Surely they could make it ten feet. He started walking again cautiously. 

"Louis," He said quietly. "Throw your bag as far as you can to the right." 

Thankfully, Louis listened without question. He heard rustling, and then something hitting the snow feet away from them. He paused to slip his off of his back and tossed it in the same direction. When they made it off the ice, he could circle back in a different direction and retrieve them. 

He sighed and took another step. Fear tingled from his head to his toes. 

And then, the bungee cords pulled him back and Louis was swallowed up by the ice opening up beneath him. There was a loud shriek and a splash. Harry fought against being pulled, but it was futile. He went in too, barely grabbing onto the edge of the ice. Cold water filled his mouth and nose, and there was something weighted to his legs. He was losing his grip on the edge of the cracked ice. He was going to drown. 

Louis was going to drown. 

He fought against everything he had and opened his eyes under the water. The weight on his legs was Louis, who'd grabbed onto his ankles. But the weight was slipping. Louis was sinking into the water. He had several choices: he could pull himself up and Louis would fall off, he could pull himself up and hope Louis would stay attached long enough to be helped, or he could shake the boy off and save himself. 

The third one wasn't even an option. He reached down with one hand and grabbed Louis' wrist as tight as he could. Then, with the strength he didn't know he had, he pulled up. He made it to the frozen air and inhaled deeply. He pulled himself up with one elbow and hauled Louis up as best as he could. When he knew Louis was hanging onto the ice, he pulled himself the rest of the way out and coughed up water. 

"Harry - " Louis was slipping again, hands too frozen to hold on. His hands were frozen as well, but he managed to grab ahold of the boy and tug him out of the water. He could feel the cold seeping in. He was frozen to the marrow of his bones. They needed to get out of those clothes and warm up or they would die. He could hear Louis crying. He could only imagine what kind of pain he was in now. 

"We have no way to get you to the cabin." He said. He made quick work of grabbing their bags. His fingers were beginning to numb. Raleigh was barking and jumping around him. It was all too much. He could feel his body temperature lowering dangerously. He knew Louis' was probably the same. He put one bag on his front and slipped the other onto Louis' back. Then, he crouched down. "Hop on." 

"I can't - " Louis' teeth were chattering. He was suddenly so sleepy. 

"Get on!" He yelled. His voice echoed through the empty wilderness around them. He couldn't convey with words how important it was for Louis to listen to him. He closed his eyes and breathed in relief when Louis climbed on. It was awkward because of his leg, and Harry stumbled every few feet. But, they kept going, trudging through the calf-high snow. 

When the cabin came into view, Raleigh barked and ran ahead. Louis wiggled around, and then asked to get off. Harry let him, and then crumpled to his knees. He was on the verge of passing out. He could feel his frozen hair falling into his eyes. He was so cold that he was starting to feel warm. That was a dangerous sign. 

His eyes closed and he felt himself pitching forward, only being caught by Louis. 

"Harry, come on," Louis grit his teeth and pulled Harry to his feet. He breathed shaky breaths as he supported the near-dead weight that was Harry. His stomach rolled and he could feel the tears falling down his face with every step he took. He himself was on the verge of passing out. 

"If you could have one thing right now, what would it be?" He asked, trying to keep them both awake. "I think I'd have some licorice. Twizzlers, those sound good right now, don't they? Well, you know, medical care and a warm bed are the obvious choices, but I'm talking if we could have had one thing packed in our bags without even knowing we were going to die in the wilderness. Yeah, I'd go with Twizzlers. What about you?" 

Harry was quiet. He was walking, just barely moving his feet. Most of his weight was on Louis, and Louis could barely handle it. Every step he took was agonizing pain. But he had no choice. He had to get there. Just a few more feet, and then they'd be at safety, and could rest and maybe get help. 

At the bottom of the cabin stairs, he sat down, watching Harry slump forward. 

"Harry," He whimpered. "You have to wake up. Wake up!" He shook the man, and then, as a last resort, slapped him as best as he could. And it worked. Harry opened his eyes. "You have to go inside and see if there's anyone or anything that can help us." 

Harry nodded. It was a struggle for him to get up, but he managed to climb up the stairs and fall against the door. By the grace of God, it was unlocked, and he found himself standing in an empty room. To the left, there was a large fireplace with wood stacked next to it, a couch, and a bookcase. To the right was a kitchen, a hallway, and a couple of doors. 

Spurred on by a sudden rush of energy, he took the backpack off of his front and dug through it with frozen fingers. He managed to toss some logs into the fireplace and get them lit. When the fire was crackling, he remembered that Louis was still outside, still very much frozen. 

Fuck. Had he lost his mind? Louis had walked them both the rest of the way. On a broken leg. Christ. He moved to the door, but Louis was already there, leaning against the door frame. There were fresh tear tracks painted down his frozen face. Harry felt so guilty. He helped the boy to the couch. 

"I'm going to take your clothes off, okay? I have to." He said apologetically. "You have to warm up. We both do. I'm going to take mine off and then lay with you. Our body heat combined with the heat from the fire will warm us both up." 

He removed clothing as he spoke, and soon, they were down to their underwear. He wanted Louis to have as much dignity as possible. He put Louis on the couch and covered him with the foil blanket. Then, he realized they both couldn't fit comfortably. Hell, they couldn't even fit uncomfortably. 

He stepped back and looked around. He nearly cried when he opened a bedroom door and saw a twin bed pushed against the corner. He used every morsel of strength in his body and pulled the mattress off the bed and dragged it into the living room. Raleigh had taken the spot directly in front of the fireplace. He didn't blame the dog one bit. He threw the mattress down in front of the couch and went back for the blanket. 

He managed to get there and back, but exhaustion hit him the second his knees hit the mattress, and he collapsed. It was only seconds before sleep took him. 

-

When Harry woke up next, he was pleasantly warm and happy to see that he was still alive. His chest ached and his chin was sore. He reached up and winced when he pressed against the bruised skin. He felt a laceration, maybe an inch long. Did he do that when he fell into the ice? It made sense. 

He stood and stretched. Despite the fire warming the room they were in, chills pebbled his skin. They had to dress and get food in them. He was still so scared being exposed to the cold air and freezing water would have lasting effects on them. He wouldn't be surprised if they each had developed hypothermia on their descent. Hell, they'd narrowly missed frostbite. He looked down at his fingers and toes, flexing them. They still ached, but that was a good sign. 

He checked Louis' appendages and his leg the best he could. The skin was mottled and swollen. He knew Louis was more than likely in a tremendous amount of pain. He sat out the pain medicine, just in case, and left the warm living area to take a look around. The cabin wasn't small, but it wasn't big. Directly across from the living room was the kitchen. He crossed the hallway to get to it. There was an empty refrigerator, a stove, a sink, and plenty of cabinet and counter space. There was a small wooden table with four chairs, and a door to the side. He peered out the window. A covered back porch. 

"Not bad," He said to himself. It wasn't the worst place to be stranded, and if they had to wait weeks or even months for help, then he was glad they were in a place like this. He opened the pantry door and paused. 

There was food. 

He was not usually a man who showed his emotions. He didn't cry when his mother got remarried, he didn't cry when he broke his elbow when he was thirteen, he didn't even cry when his grandfather passed away. Sure, he wanted to cry, but wanting to cry and actually crying were two completely different things. He'd never had a moment of profound sadness or grief or happiness to warrant tears. 

But now, facing a pantry with canned goods made him want to tear up. To him, the sight of a few cans scattered around made him want to weep tears of joy. He pulled out a gallon can of baked beans and blinked rapidly. It was actually there, along with cans of corn, green beans, and vegetable soup. There was a box of oatmeal and two jars of peanut butter. On the middle shelf, in a basket, were granola bars and crackers. Beneath those, a few rolls of vacuum sealed sausage. A can of coffee grounds sat by its lonesome on the top shelf. 

He clenched his jaw. If he didn't he was going to cry. His stomach was rumbling. He was starving, but he'd wait for Louis. Besides, there was something else he wanted to test. He walked over to the sink and tried the tap. After a few drips, the spray came down full blast. 

This time, some tears did fall. Thank God. After what they'd been through, it felt like a dream. Like he was about to wake up and be in the shredded wreckage of that small plane they'd chartered. He turned the tap off and walked to where Louis was still sleeping. He checked on him once more, felt his appendages again. Louis harrumphed in his sleep when Harry squeezed his toes. That was a good sign. 

He patted Raleigh on top of his head and rifled through his bag. He pulled out his toiletry bag and walked to the bathroom. There were towels and washcloths in the cabinet in the hall. It was like fate was finally working in his favor. Underneath the hot spray of the shower, he did cry a little bit. If this was as far as they would get, at least they would die with full bellies and clean bodies. 

Outside of the shower, he towel dried his hair and brushed his teeth twice. He pulled on some socks and a pair of sweats. He needed to figure out how to do laundry. They needed clean, warm clothes. He could wash their laundry in the bathtub, let it soak and then rinse and ring it out underneath the faucet. That should work. He could use a little spot of his own shampoo or conditioner to wash them in. 

He looked at his chin. The laceration wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches. The cut on his forehead had opened again in the fall. He hadn't even felt anything. There was still some crusted blood, but most had washed off in the shower. He would have to find a bandage to place across each wound. 

He puttered back through the cabin and really looked around. It was too bare to be someone's vacation home. But it also had seemed like people had been there recently, from the firewood to the food. And the water still being on? People were planning on coming back, it seemed. 

He opened the front door and shivered. Raleigh darted out behind him and ran down the stairs, presumably to do his business. A bulletin board on the exterior of the cabin caught his eye, and he leaned in to look at it. Boy Scout Club of America - Uinta Mountains Campground. Below was a map with a thumbtack stuck in it. He assumed the thumbtack was their location. He peered at it. He wished he knew how to read maps. But the thumbtack was awfully close to a road, and that road snaked down the mountain into the real world. 

He couldn't help but grin. It seemed that things were starting to look up. He would get Louis feeling better, figure out what to do about his leg, eat some food, and figure out how to get down off of this mountain. 

Raleigh came back up the steps and they both went inside. He rubbed at his exposed arms and planted himself in front of the fire, stoking it a bit. It was a bigger fire than the measly ones he'd built over the past few days, and it warmed the room up quickly. He folded the blanket that was on the mattress and peered over Louis' sleeping form once more. He hated to do it, but he shook the boy awake. 

"Hey, Louis," He whispered. It had been hours and hours since they'd got to the cabin, and Louis should be sufficiently warmed up by now. He really needed to look at his leg and Louis needed to eat something. "Hey, wake up for me." 

Louis stirred and rolled over. Then, his broken leg reminded him that he couldn't. "What is it?" 

He crouched down. "I'm going to help you to the bathroom, okay? There's running water, so I'll put a chair in the shower and you can take as long as you'd like, okay? While you're doing that, I'll warm up some food. I found some in the pantry. And then I need to look at your leg, okay?" 

Louis nodded and let Harry help him up into a seated position. "Do you know what day it is?" He was so out of it, Harry could tell. Without saying a word, he checked Louis' pupils. No damage that he could tell. His pupils were equal and reactive. The cut he'd sustained across his nose, accompanied with the bruising, had healed significantly over the past few days. His cheekbone was no longer a bright purple but now a dull, healing yellow. Louis waved his hand in front of Harry's face. 

Harry shook his head. "I don't. I'm sorry. I think we've been gone a week."

Louis nodded again, and he took the foil blanket off of him. He wasn't embarrassed when Harry scooped him up and took him into the bathroom. He sat on the closed toilet lid while Harry turned the spray on to let it heat up. Moments later, he brought in a chair and sat it in the tub. 

"I thought briefly you might want a bath, but submerging your leg might not feel good. And I'd have to help you out, and, well, you'd be naked." Harry explained. "You get undressed and get in, I'll go get your toiletries and some clothes, okay?" 

Louis nodded, and when the bathroom door was closed, he shucked his underwear off and managed to lower himself onto the chair in the shower. He pulled the curtain closed and let the hot water cover his body. He got goosebumps and shivered. He wanted to cry. This was a feeling he never though he'd have again. 

There was a knock on the door, and then he heard it open. "I'm putting some clothes on the sink, Louis. Your toiletry bag is on the edge of the tub." 

"Thank you." He waited until he heard the door close before pulling the shower curtain open and digging through the bag. He found his little bottle of shampoo and scrubbed it through his wet hair. He washed it twice and then washed his body. He was careful around his leg, and when he was done, he rinsed the washrag out and laid it across the edge of the tub. He washed his face and then sat and let the water flow over him for a few more minutes. 

He turned the water off when he remembered that hot water could run out, and he didn't want Harry to take a cold shower. He dried off, still seated, and reached for his clothes. The pants were his, but the waffle-knit henley was not. When he tugged it on and saw that the arms hit past his fingertips he realized it was Harry's. 

"That was nice," He muttered, spreading moisturizer on his face. It had been so long since he'd done his skincare, and his face stung a little. It felt surreal. They had been in a plane crash, and here he was showering and doing his skincare. It almost made him laugh hysterically. But that feeling was probably from him being in sub-zero temperatures for a week.

When he was done, he managed to use the bathroom and wash his hands before yelling for Harry. 

They walked into the kitchen and Harry deposited him down at the little wooden table. His leg was throbbing. Without the splint, he was afraid to move too much. He propped his hand on his chin and watched Harry putter around. 

"There's water," Harry said. "So I'm assuming that people had just been here or are coming back." He sat a mug in front of Louis and sat down across from him. 

"Coffee?" He picked it up and smelled. It was incredible. And it certainly beat his regular order at the local coffee shop he frequented. 

Harry nodded. "I found some coffee grounds and evaporated milk. Wasn't any sugar but I figured we're spoiled enough. I'd rather have hot water than sugar, to be honest." 

"That shower was the best thing I've ever felt. There should be some hot water left, if you want to - " He hooked a thumb behind his shoulder. 

"I already showered." Harry said. "Now, we need to eat and I'll go outside and dig around for something to help your leg. I saw outside that there are more cabins behind this one."

"What is this place, anyway?" Louis sipped at his coffee. It warmed his belly and made him close his eyes. It was so good. 

"A Boy Scout's camp, I believe." Harry answered. "I think we're in the main cabin, or supervisor cabin. And I assume the other ones behind this one are for the campers. I'm going to gear up and snoop through them. Hopefully they're unlocked. I can probably find some blankets at least." 

"Can I go?" Louis asked, but he already knew the answer. Harry's look solidified that answer. 

"Hopefully I'll find something that will stabilize the bone." Harry said. He sipped from his own coffee mug. "But until then, I'm going to warm something up for us to eat. Then, you'll get comfortable on the couch and leave everything else to me."

"I want to help. How can I help?" Louis looked around. There was a little dust, but other than that, the cabin seemed relatively cleaned. "I've been useless this entire time."

Harry sat his mug down and reached across the table. He held Louis' free hand in his own. The look on his face was so sincere. "You managed to get us here after we fell into the lake. I am profoundly grateful, Louis. You walked on your broken leg and you held me. I'm not a small guy." 

Louis couldn't help but glance down at Harry's exposed torso. He wasn't big, he was fit. His muscles were taut, arms were strong, and he had tattoos all over. Christ. 

"That's nothing compared to what you did, though - "

"No, it's more. It's way more. I am forever indebted to you. You saved our lives." Harry said. 

Blushing, Louis shifted. He wasn't used to taking compliments, especially of the life-saving kind. "I couldn't let you stay out there. Is adrenaline rush a real thing? I think that's what was happening." 

Harry chuckled and nodded. "Adrenaline rush is a very real thing, and I don't doubt for a second that's what happened. Either that, or my energy transferred to you." He smiled and squeezed Louis' hand before releasing it. "Either way, you saved my life. And you saved yours, too." 

He shrugged one shoulder and stared down at the scuffed wood of the table. It didn't seem real that they were there. That somehow, after struggling and almost dying countless times, that they were in a cabin with running water and a roaring fireplace, drinking coffee they'd found in the pantry. 

"I could make something to eat, if you look through the other cabins." He offered. "The stove is low enough that I could sit on a chair. What is there to eat?"

Harry stood and pulled some things from the pantry. "We could eat peanut butter crackers, sausage and crackers, there's some soup we could heat up. Beans. Oatmeal. Whatever you want." 

Together, they both chose a can of vegetable soup and some sausage and crackers. Harry used the pop top to open the can and dumped it into his camping pot. He used a match to light a burner on the stove and put the soup on. 

"Stir it occasionally with this," Harry handed Louis his camping spoon. "And then when the soup is hot, I guess we could figure out a way to cut the sausage." 

"I can do it." Louis sat down on the chair that Harry pulled over to the stove. "You go look before it gets dark." 

Harry nodded. "Don't wait for me to start eating. There's plenty here. If you eat it all, I'll find something else." 

"I'll wait," Louis replied, stirring the soup. He heard Harry laugh from behind him, and minutes later, he heard the front door open and close. He did his job dutifully, watching until the soup boiled. He turned the burner off and stood, knowing Doctor Harry would kill him if he caught him walking around. He opened and closed a few drawers and found some silverware and knives. He opened the sausage with the knife and began cutting it. He managed to hobble to the table with the food, taking multiple trips to do so. 

He sat down, winded completely, and looked over at Raleigh. The poor lab had been living off of whatever wild animal he could catch and eat, and it wasn't very much. He tossed the dog some sausage and rubbed at his forehead. 

"I'm sorry about your dad, buddy." He apologized. Raleigh cocked his head. Louis may still be suffering the effects of the freezing air, and possibly the pain from his injuries, but he could have sworn the dog had tears in his eyes. And that made him and his bleeding heart tear up as well. He couldn't help it. He had a soft spot for animals, and staring into the dark eyes of the sweet dog in front of him, he couldn't help it. He'd only been focusing on himself and Harry. How could he have ignored Raleigh's feelings? 

"We're going to get out of here," He said to the dog. "And we're going to get you a nice, warm bed and some gourmet food. I promise."

-

Harry peered into the window of the shed directly behind the cabin. The windows were too dirty, so he tried the door. It was locked, but not very well. He was able to throw his weight against the door until it opened. He stumbled inside and squinted. It was dark, but he could see some sporting equipment. Against the wall there were sleds propped up and he could see skis next to them, and a few hockey sticks. There were empty gas cans, he checked. There were snow shovels and snow shoes, which could come in handy. 

He pulled two hockey sticks down, along with two ski poles. If he could make a splint with the hockey sticks, maybe Louis could use the ski poles as crutches? It was worth a shot. And if it didn't work, they had sled to fall back on. He carried those with him as he investigated elsewhere. 

In one campers cabin, he saw a few rows of bunk beds, all with bare mattresses. Nothing else. He checked the other four, just to be on the safe side. He found two first-aid kits and grabbed those. Other than that, he came up empty. He headed back to the main cabin, dejected but not without hope. He could probably break the skis down and use some medical tape to make a splint. 

Inside the cabin, he kicked the snow off of his boots and took them off. The wooden floor was chilly underneath his feet, but it was still warmer inside than it was outside. He leaned the hockey sticks and ski poles against the wall by the door and carried the first aid kits into the kitchen and sat them on the table. 

"Are you crying?" He crouched down and tried to lift the leg of Louis's sweatpants. "Did something happen?" He pressed his fingers against the mottled flesh, feeling for heat or bone pressing against skin. 

"Nothing happened," Louis promised. He used the sleeves of Harry's shirt to wipe his tears. "I just got sad for a second." 

Harry peered up at him. "Are you sure?" He asked suspiciously. "Your leg feels fine on the outside. No infection, so that's a good sign. But it's starting to swell again. That could be from walking on it. I'll grab some snow and pack it. Maybe we can find something to put it in to put it on your leg." 

Louis nodded towards the first aid kit. "There aren't any ice packs in there?" 

Harry paused, then rose to his full height. He popped open the first one and saw bandages, gauze, a couple packs of acetaminophen, tweezers, a needle and thread, and underneath it all, an ice pack. 

"Shake to activate," Louis read. "I was right." 

"You were," Harry agreed. "For your prize, you can start eating." He leaned over the camping pot and inhaled. "Smells good." 

"Anything would smell good at this point." Louis pointed out. He pushed the pot towards Harry. There were two spoons in there. "I found some silverware. I cut the sausage up. It smells wonderful." 

Harry sat down and began to eat. He sipped at his rapidly cooling coffee, and there was no better taste to him than that. As hungry as he was, he knew they shouldn't eat a lot right off the bat. Their stomachs had shrunk considerably over the past week, with nothing but water, trail mix, and beef jerky to sustain them. 

While Harry ate his fill of the soup, Louis ate the sausage and crackers. Then, they switched. It was a fair way for both of them to get both the soup and the sausage. The protein was enough to fill them up, and soon, the soup was gone and Louis was shivering again. 

Harry wiped his mouth and stood. He held his arms out. "Alright, let's go. You can sit in front of the fire while I clean up. Then, we'll ice that leg. Okay?" 

Louis let Harry carry him over to the couch, where he was deposited in front of the crackling fire.  Then, Harry carried over some books from the bookshelf and sat them down on the cushion next to him. 

"Some of those look like they're survival books, so if we leave, we take those with us." Harry joked. Louis nodded, and watched Harry retreat back into the kitchen. He settled back against the couch and frowned. It was awfully domestic, being with Harry. Being carried by Harry, and doted on. Cooking for Harry. Sitting on the couch, in front of the fire, while Harry cleaned up. His heart ached a little bit. He felt at home with Harry. Comfortable and relaxed, and he never felt in danger when he was with Harry. Sure, they'd slept outside for a few nights, and he was too scared to sleep, but deep down, he knew Harry wouldn't let anything happen to him. He'd proven that more than once. 

"If one of those books have anything on reading a map, send it my way," Harry called from the kitchen. Seconds later, he appeared in the doorway. "There's a map outside. Apparently we are somewhere in the Uinta mountains of Utah." 

Louis nibbled at his bottom lip. "We didn't even get out of Utah." He said. He picked up a book and thumbed through it. "This one is about identifying plants." 

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Huh. At least they're using textbooks instead of cell phones and tablets." 

"Harry!" Louis said up and sat the book down. "Cell phones. Do you still have yours? We could charge it." 

Harry shook his head. "No, mine broke in the wreck. I still have it, hopefully I'm able to retrieve the data from it." He sat down next to Louis and tilted his head back. "Yours?" 

"I never found mine after the plane wreck." Louis said. He was kind of sad about it, but he had nothing important on it. There were no family photos, or memories to look back on. There were a few of him and his fiance, some funny memes he'd saved, and recipes he'd taken screenshots of on Pinterest. "Well, fuck." 

"Fuck, indeed." Harry echoed the sentiment. He let his feet rest on the mattress in front of the fireplace and sighed. "I think I'm going to wash our laundry. Do you have anything you'd like for me to clean?" 

"Yeah, probably. Let me get my bag and I'll tell you." He reached for the bag and pulled out the clothes he'd rolled tightly in the bottom. They were clean, but damp from where they'd froze. "I, um, have some delicate...items in here." He looked anywhere but Harry's face. 

"Like...underwear?" Harry asked. "Or like...underwear?" 

"Um...underwear," He answered. It was just a few pairs, mainly to wear for Nathan, but he still didn't want Harry to see. Well, he wouldn't mind if Harry saw him wearing them, but that was a different story. 

"Oh, gotcha. No more questions." Harry clapped his palms on his thighs and stood up. He took what Louis offered him and gathered up what little clothing he had. He filled the bathtub with hot water and poured in some of his hair conditioner. He used his hands to make the water soapy, and began the backbreaking work of doing the laundry. He scrubbed the fabrics together, emptied the soapy water, and began rinsing the clothes. Wringing them out was the hardest part, and he utilized the bathtub faucet to help him. 

When he was done, his back ached and his hands felt chapped. He stood, listening to his knees pop, and carried the wet clothes back into the living room. Louis had a book cracked open on his lap but wasn't reading it. 

"So, I think I found some things I could use for your leg." He said, eyes scanning the room. He needed to hang the clothes up to dry. In front of the heat source made the most sense, but they had no hangers or hooks. He wished they still had the bungee cords. At least then he could fashion a clothing line. 

Louis looked up at him. From the angle on the couch, he looked so small and tired. "I was going to talk to you about that, by the way." 

"Why?" He lowered the wet clothes. "What's wrong?"

"Everything is fine. Just, uh, how many more pills do we have?" Louis shifted and grimaced. Harry could only imagine the pain he was feeling. 

"It's a full prescription," Harry answered. He sat the clothes down and grabbed the bottle. He estimated the count by glancing inside. "I'd say we have about fifteen left. Believe it or not, you haven't taken that many." 

Louis scoffed. He couldn't believe it. "Why do you have those any way?" He closed the book and tossed it. When it hit the cushion next to him, Raleigh lifted his head from his position on the floor. When he deemed there was no threat, he went back to sleep. 

"I told you, I got prescribed them a few months ago." Harry shook one out into Louis' hand and handed him the water bottle. It was nearly empty, but thankfully, they could use tap water from there on out. 

Louis frowned, swallowed the pill, and shook his head. Harry sat down on the cushion next to him, clothes forgotten. 

"You did?" 

Harry nodded. "I did." 

"When?" 

"I'm not sure of the exact timeline, but it was after we'd crashed. You woke up in so much pain you were throwing up and crying. When you came to the second time, I gave you one and you asked where I'd gotten it." Harry answered. He adored the confused look on Louis' face. "I promise. They're not illegal and they're not expired." 

Louis sat back against the cushions. "Oh. Well, what happened to you to get them?" 

"I had a procedure done, they were prescribed for any pain afterwards." He explained. Louis was confused again, so he held his hand out and showed Louis. "See that scar? On the blade of my hand?" 

Louis leaned closer and peered down at the thin, silver line running from Harry's wrist to pinky finger. "Oh, did it hurt?" He asked. He traced it with his finger. "It couldn't have hurt that bad, if you didn't use any of the pain meds." 

He chuckled. "You're right. There was some pain, but nothing some ibuprofen couldn't take care of. I'm glad I kept them, though. I never thought I would ever have to use them like this." His gaze landed on Louis' legs. "Are they helping?"

"They are. Don't worry. It feels way better than it did." Louis answered. 

Harry stood. "I need to start working on another splint for you. I think these items could work. And maybe I could make some crutches out of some hockey sticks." He grabbed everything he'd brought in. "Don't make fun of anything I make. If it works, it works. This will be a true testament to my creative skills. Or lack thereof." 

"Whatever helps me walk," Louis shrugged. He made himself comfortable on the couch and watched as Harry went to work. Behind him, through the window, the sky was darkening. It was a swathe of purple and blue, inky black at the edges. The fire in front of him was warm and soon, the crackle of the logs lulled him into sleep. 

-

Harry held off waking Louis up until he was finished forming the makeshift crutches and splint. He managed to secure the splint on Louis' leg, tightly over his pants. It wasn't what any hospital offered, but it was better than nothing. The crutches, however, were a different story. They would work, but would be very uncomfortable for as long as they were needed. He was thankful Louis was shorter, otherwise they wouldn't work at all. 

He left the crutches propped against the wall and headed into the kitchen. There, he fashioned them a meal of peanut butter and crackers and oatmeal. He ate his in silence, standing over the sink. He stared out of the window in front of him. It was pitch black, but the stars seemed to be hanging right over his head. He familiarized himself with what he was seeing. He was making peace with the fact that this is what they could see for possibly a very long time. 

Behind him, Raleigh barked at the door. Harry let him out, standing to watch him. They were still in the wilderness, and he didn't want anything to happen to the dog. He'd grown to love him, and he knew Louis did too. 

Raleigh ran through the snow for a bit, ducked behind some trees, and came running back a few minutes later. He ran up the steps and straight into the house, where he made his bed by the crackling fire. Harry locked the door and woke Louis up. 

He brought in the food he'd assembled and sat next to Louis on the couch while he ate. It was the first time in his life that he'd sat in a room with no other noise. No television going, no cell phone, nothing to distract his mind from thinking. 

It was nice. 

They sat together in comfortable silence, enjoying the peace around them. It was cozy, and intimate, and it was the most peace Harry had experienced in years. He knew it had to end soon, but he pushed that thought far from his mind, determined to enjoy what they had now. 

Eventually, Louis turned his head and looked at him. He returned the gaze. Louis looked radiant in the glow of the fire. 

"Do you think it's Christmas yet?" 

Harry thought for a few seconds. "I don't think so. We'd know if it was. It doesn't feel like it." 

"So then it's not my birthday." Louis said. "But we're getting close. I can feel it." 

"The big two-four. Are you excited?" 

"It's no different than twenty-three, to be honest." He answered. "Well, I'm assuming." 

Harry chuckled and leaned his head back. "It's not. After twenty-one, it doesn't matter. Every year feels the same as the last."

"Except that I might spend my twenty-fourth birthday in a cabin in the wilderness." Louis' tone wasn't bitter, or mean. It was just sad. Hopeless. 

"No, remember what I said? I'll get you out of here. You won't spend your birthday up here with just me and a dog." Harry's smile was genuine, and Louis believed him. Harry had gotten them this far. He trusted Harry. He had no choice. 

He nodded. He ate the last of his oatmeal and sat the bowl in his lap. "But even if you can't," He began slowly. He felt Harry tense up beside him, but he continued. There were already enough unspoken words. "I don't mind spending my birthday here. With you." 

The silence continued, but Harry reached over and grabbed his hand. He squeezed it gently. And continued to hold it. 

-

Sometime later that night, they were laying in comfortable silence. The fireplace was providing more than enough warmth, much to the happiness of Raleigh. They'd fed the dog some sausage earlier and now he was snoring loudly next to the fire. Beside him was Louis, who was laying on the mattress. Harry had covered it with a blanket and rolled another one up for him to use as a pillow. He kept the foil blanket wrapped around his body. Even with the fire, he was still chilly. 

Harry was on the couch, one arm resting over his head and the other on his stomach. His legs were uncovered. He'd removed the blanket off almost as soon as they'd laid down to sleep. Two days ago, he never thought he'd be warm again. The feeling was so overwhelming that he almost cried. 

"Louis," Harry broke the silence. He was unsure if Louis was awake or not, and he was so comfortable that he didn't even want to turn his head to check. 

"Hm?"

He was awake, if barely. "I was just wondering," He began. He stared up at the ceiling tiles. "How did you know Nathan was the one?"

More silence. So much silence that he did turn his head to see if Louis had fallen asleep. He hadn't. He was still laying on his back, blinking. It was minutes  before he answered. 

"I didn't." He finally said. "I don't." 

"I see."

"Is that bad? That sounds so bad." Louis whispered. "But...it's the truth. And if I never get off this mountain, I don't feel bad for saying it."

"What's he like?" 

"He's...he's Nathan. He, uh, well, he works for an online newspaper. So he can travel with me if I ever get my big break." Louis continued. "He's funny. He makes me laugh. He's good to me."

"But..." Harry pressed. 

"But, I don't know. There's something missing. I think?" Louis turned his head and looked up at Harry. The man was already staring down at him. "If we'd never crashed up here, I wouldn't be saying this." 

"Why are you saying it now?" 

Louis inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "It put a lot of things into perspective. Does that make sense? We could have died. We almost did, sort of - " 

Harry shook his head. "No, we did almost die." He agreed. Their impromptu ice bath in freezing temperatures would have killed them if the cabin hadn't been in their sights. 

" - we almost died, and - I shouldn't be telling you this." Louis looked away from Harry. "You're a complete stranger." 

Harry snorted. "We passed being strangers days ago. I examined your urine." He reminded Louis. 

Louis blushed, thankful that the room was dark enough so that Harry couldn't see. He didn't want to talk about that. In fact, he wanted to forget about it completely. 

"Well, I appreciate that, but that still doesn't mean I should be sitting here badmouthing my fiancé." He argued weakly. "Because you are a perfect stranger to me. I know nothing about you. I've practically carried you to safety and all I know is your first name and profession." 

There was some movement, and Harry propped himself up on his elbow. "I'm Harry Styles, twenty-seven years old. Med school prodigy, trauma surgeon, but you knew that. I used to like the adrenaline of saving lives but I think our siesta in the mountains has changed my mind about that."

Louis adored the light, teasing tone of his voice. It made him think that everything was going to be okay. 

Harry continued. "I love to cook. I bought my apartment solely for the kitchen. It has exposed brick and it's a deep forest green. My favorite is the big window above the sink. It looks right over downtown. It's charming and I love to snoop, that's why I take my time doing dishes. I can't sleep in my bed most nights, so I had to buy a ridiculously expensive sofa. I used to love the snow but now, being here, I'm not so fond of it anymore. My birthday is in February and I hate celebrating it. I - " 

"Why can't you sleep in your bed?" Louis interrupted. 

"I hate sleeping in a space made for two people. Is that weird? That's weird to say. Just, my bed is so big that I always roll over and think there should be someone else there. So, when I'm on the sofa, there's just space for me." 

"Makes sense." 

"Anyway, I like window shopping. I love going to thrift stores. That's where I get most of my sweaters. I cofounded a soup kitchen in my neighborhood and we're expanding into a shelter within the next few years. I love dogs but I don't have the time for one. Although, I wasn't kidding when I said this has left a bad taste in my mouth about trauma. I might consider switching professions." Harry said. Despite his tone, Louis knew he wasn't kidding. 

"Would you become a museum curator?" 

Harry shrugged. "Might. I'm not sure my medical degrees would transfer to history."

"Do you live in Boston?" Louis tried his best to roll over so that he wasn't straining his neck to look at Harry. When Harry nodded, he sighed. "I bet it's beautiful. I've heard New England in the fall is gorgeous."

"It is." Harry confirmed. "Once again, the view from my windows are spectacular. Especially in the fall and winter."

"I've never been to the New England area." 

"You should. Beautiful part of this country." 

He hummed in response. He had nothing else to say, and it seemed that neither did Harry. The silence was comforting. No longer were they in a dingy plane or out in the elements. He could fully rest here, and he felt a million times better for it. There was some truth to letting your body rest in order for it to heal. He laid there long enough to hear Harry's breathing even out, and he knew the man was in a deep sleep. 

He rolled back over, only in a minor amount of pain, and stared at the fire. It was waning, but he was too tired to reach over and toss some logs into the flames. He must have fallen asleep, or drifted, or just simply zoned out, because the next thing he knew, Harry was kneeling by the fireplace, stoking the fuller flames.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Harry whispered. 

He shook his head. "No, you didn't." He watched for a few more seconds before patting beside him. "Would you, um, will you lay next to me?" 

Harry didn't answer, but he crawled onto the mattress next to him. He adjusted the blankets so that they were both covered, and he said the same thing that he did on their first night in the elements, to wake him if he needed to roll over. 

It was unnecessary, because Louis was so comfortable that he was out like a light. 

-

Sometime in the night, or early morning, Louis couldn't tell, he woke up to a familiar weight on his back. There was a heavy arm slung over his waist, and he was tucked so closely into the body behind him that he could feel their heartbeat. 

He could also feel something long and hard, pressed right up against his lower back. 

He didn't need a few seconds to remember where he was. He knew exactly where he was, what had happened, and who was behind him. It was Harry, who was fast asleep behind him still, unaware of what was happening. 

He glanced around the best that he could. The room was still dark but he could tell that it was almost early morning. Raleigh was asleep on the couch, he must have moved there after Harry laid down next to him. The fire was still going but a chill had crept into the air and hung above him. He could feel the cold on the tip of his nose. 

He reached a hand down and grabbed Harry's wrist. He shook it to wake the man up, but all he succeeded in doing was making Harry hold him tighter. He held his breath. He was sure his heart was thumping so loudly that Harry could hear it. 

"Harry," He whispered. He licked his lips. He knew what was coming, and he knew he couldn't stop it. He didn't want to stop it. He tried to tell himself that it was natural, that they'd trauma bonded and that it was the most normal thing in the world. But, when Harry's fingers were undressing him, and moving inside of him, all he could do was beg for it. When Harry was staring down at him, hooking his good leg over his hip, and asking him if it felt fine, all he could do was nod. 

And when Harry's green eyes were above his, and his lips were searing onto his own, all he could was fall in love. 

Harry was sure to leave his mark. He spent his time sucking marks into his neck. Louis was completely overwhelmed. All he could do was run his fingers through Harry's hair and whimper. He was almost embarrassed at how quickly he came, but with Harry's big, strong body hovering over his, pumping in and out and a relentless but gentle pace, he couldn't help it. 

Harry came inside of him with the most breathtaking sound in the world, right in his ear, and they went back to sleep. When they woke up next, the room was lighter and Raleigh was whining at the door. 

He watched Harry get up and open the door. He wondered if they were going to talk about it, if it would be weird, but when Harry returned, he helped Louis up and pulled him into a searing kiss. In the shower, they bathed together under the hot spray. They were the most intimate that a human being could be with each other. Harry washed his hair, talented fingers massaging his scalp. 

He returned the favor by sucking Harry's cock. The noises Harry made were making his heart thump irregularly. He'd never paid attention to the sounds Nathan made, but with Harry, he was hyperfocused on the man's pleasure. 

He swallowed, and held on tightly to Harry's hips as the man thrusted in and out, riding out his orgasm. 

"Fuck," Harry breathed in. He was getting sensitive, Louis could tell, but he didn't want to stop. He loved the feeling of Harry's cock in his mouth, hot and heavy, thrumming on his tongue. He had to stop eventually, and when he did, he looked up at Harry. The man looked ethereal, curls wet and wild around his eyes. "Get up here,"

Harry pulled him up, wet and slippery, and balanced him against the shower wall. Seconds later, long, deft fingers were inside of him once more. He held onto Harry for dear life, crying out and biting into his shoulder. He came with a cry and pressed kisses into Harry's throat. 

They dressed together. They had to anyway, because of his leg. Harry helped him into comfortable clothes and then dressed himself. He was helped out into the kitchen, where he sat and watched Harry putter around. With a bittersweet feeling, he realized that he could get used to seeing Harry messing around in their kitchen. 

"I was thinking," Harry said later. He sat their bowls of food down on the table and waited for Louis to start eating. "I think I'm going to try to hike down the mountain and get some help." 

Louis paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. "You're...what?"

At least Harry had the nerve to look sorry. "We need to get out of here. Now that we've had a few days to recoup and reacclimate, I think we have a really good chance at getting help. I can leave you here, and climb down the mountain and see how far I get. Civilization can't be too far off." 

Panic began to build in his chest. "You can't leave me up here by myself. I have no way to defend myself if something happens. What if something happens to you and you die out there?" He was aware that he was growing hysterical, but he had every right to feel that way. Harry was essentially abandoning him. "I won't know and when I run out of food, what happens then?"

Harry reached across the table and took his hand. It was shaking. "Nothing is going to happen to me. I'll leave you Raleigh. You have the crutches to get around. I won't take the food with me. I can go hungry for a day or so." His stare was so sincere, and it broke Louis' heart. He was trying to think reasonably, but they'd just had sex. He'd cheated on Nathan with Harry, and now Harry was wanting to leave him. His mind was going a hundred different directions. 

He didn't know what to say. All he could do was shake his head. "No, I don't want to stay here. If you leave, I'm going with you."

Harry sighed. "You can't, Louis. You can't take those crutches in the snow. Remember the last time you tried it?"

Louis wracked his brain for answers, or some way to get Harry to stay with him. "No, we have a sled now. You said there were sleds outside."

"I can't pull you down the mountain. I need to keep that energy to find help for us." Harry replied. 

"I see." Louis stared down at his food. He wasn't hungry anymore. "When would you leave?"

Harry hesitated. "Today. Soon. I just have a feeling that we're closer than we think. We have to be. Think about it, they wouldn't send Boy Scouts far up a mountain. There's got to be a road, plowed more than likely. It has to be, people have been here recently. That's the only explanation I have for the water to be on and the firewood to be stacked." 

Louis nodded. "Okay. Well, good luck." He pushed himself away from the table and stood on wobbly legs. His broken one screamed at him, but he couldn't sit across from Harry any longer. He grabbed the crutches that he'd leaned next to the table and waved Harry off. "I'll stay out of your way while you pack." 

"Louis..." Harry sounded defeated, but he watched Louis go. 

-

It didn't take him long to pack. He rolled up the clean clothes he had, layered up, and sat his bag by the door. He'd brushed his teeth well, combed his hair, threw it in a topknot, and mentally prepared himself to brave the elements again. 

He wished he knew what to say to Louis. He had so much regret for what they'd done. He didn't know how it happened. He'd slept with someone who was engaged. He felt sick about it. He couldn't stop thinking of how worried the fiance must be, and here he was, ruining their relationship.

It couldn't happen again. That was one of the reasons he was leaving. He didn't know how to face Louis anymore. He didn't want to tell the boy he regretted it, and he felt that it was coming. He knew it meant different things to him. He didn't know how to navigate these feelings. He'd never done this before, never been in this situation before. He usually avoided relationships for this very reason.

He was ready to go, to get out of the cabin and get back to to civilization. To nameless hookups, surgeries, and his kitchen. 

But he needed to say goodbye to Louis. To make sure the boy knew that he was leaving to save them both.

Louis wasn't in the bathroom, or the kitchen, or in front of the fireplace. Harry finally saw him through the window, standing outside on the deck, camera in front of his face. He watched him for a minute, admiring him in his element. He watched as his breath puffed out like a cloud in front of him. He watched him lower the camera and stare out at the quiet, white abyss. He could stand there and watch Louis do that forever. 

That's why he needed to leave. 

He opened the front door, shattering whatever little world they were both in. Louis turned to him, camera in hand. Now that he was outside, he could see Raleigh running around, kicking up powdery snow behind him. 

"Well, I'm ready." How lame. 

Louis nodded. 

"Don't leave after dark. Don't even be out here after dark. Please, Louis, I mean it. And please remember to eat. There should be enough wood left. There's a whole stack of it through the door in the kitchen. I left matches in the kitchen, on the table. I took the foil blanket, just in case." 

"You would need it more than me." 

They stood there, in an awkward stand off. Harry wanted to walk away and Louis wanted him to stay. Both had different reasons. Harry wanted to get away from this, and Louis wanted to stay close to him. If Harry was being honest with himself, how he was started to feel about Louis was triggering his fight of flight.  He was a surgeon. He was clinical, devoid of emotions when need be. He was able to compartmentalize. 

He could deal with trauma, until it was his own. And he certainly could not share it with someone else. 

"I meant what I said, Louis." He finally said. When Louis' blue eyes met his, he continued. "I said I'd get you out of here before your birthday. I mean that." 

Silence. And then, "I believe you." 

The first few steps away were the hardest. He gripped the hand rail of the stairs as he descended. The farther away he walked, the more cold air he drew into his lungs. His face was frozen five minutes in to his walk. He was thankful for his hobby, which led him to have a good pair of waterproof boots and gloves that would protect his hands. 

He made it to a sign, and he stopped in front of it. It was a ten-foot tall metal beacon. Covered in snow but still visible, he couldn't help but grin widely. 

UINTA NATIONAL FOREST

MOUNTAIN PASS

HIKING TRAIL: 1/4 MILES

MAIN ROAD: 2.5 MILES

He couldn't help but whoop loudly. He laughed and clapped his hands. "Thank God!" He yelled. He couldn't care less that he was out in the open, vulnerable to any sort of attack from a prey animal. He turned around and ran through the snow, following the tracks he'd made from the cabin. They could make it easily in two and a half miles. And he could certainly pull Louis on a sled for that. 

He made it to the cabin in record time. When he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, he doubled over, panting. His ribcage was on fire. But they were finally leaving. He stomped up the steps and through the door. It startled Louis, who was sitting on the couch, reading a book. 

"What are you doing?" He breathed. 

Harry walked over to him and helped him stand. "C'mon, let's go." He balanced Louis with one hand while tossing his bag onto the couch with the other. "We've got to go. Only a few hours of sunlight, I'm estimating. We can make it by then, I'm sure of it." 

"Make it to where? Harry, what's going on?" Louis held still, bless him, as Harry pulled a sweater over his shirt. "Harry!"

"I found a sign. The main road is two and a half miles away." He answered gleefully. He made quick work of packing up their belongings. Just in case, he packed most of the food. He was optimistic that they wouldn't need it. 

A whirlwind fifteen minutes later, Harry was pulling Louis behind him, Raleigh running ahead. He followed the same tracks as before. In no time, they made it to the sign. He stopped and let Louis read it. 

"A road should be easier to walk on, right?" Louis asked. "Better than navigating the terrain and snow. And maybe we'll come across a car or something."

Hope was blooming in Harry's chest. They were leaving. It was real. It was right in front of them. He could taste that burger now. 

"Right." He confirmed. "And there will be more signs. Maybe it will lead us to a nearby town."

The terrain was rocky, and he couldn't wait to get on the road. He knew they were getting closer when they passed another sign. They'd walked a mile and a half in now time. Maybe two hours had passed, maybe more. He couldn't tell. His watch had broken awhile ago. It probably got too cold. He could hear camera clicks behind him. 

"I think," He breathed. "This will be your big break."

"You think?"

"I do."

"I don't know." Louis said. "This experience...not everyone would get it. And I want it to be mine for awhile. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded. "It does." He panted. The sled, although moving swiftly on top of the snow, was still heavy, and making his arms and chest ache. "I get it. But when you want to share it, I'm sure National Geographic will be calling you."

Behind him, Louis scoffed. 

"Oh yeah, National Geographic, The New York Times, Life magazine. You'll get offers every day." Harry continued. And he meant it. The pictures, along with Louis' story, was sure to put his name on the map. 

"Are those the only ones you know?"

"They are." 

Louis laughter tinkled through the woods. Harry let that sound repeat in his mind for the next several hundred feet. They made it to the edge of the hill, the road just below them, and he collapsed to the ground. Raleigh stopped in concern, sniffing his face. 

"I just need to rest." Harry said. "We're so close, I can feel it." 

Louis rifled around in the bag across his chest and pulled out some of the sausage from the cabin. He handed it to Harry, who was quick to eat it. He sipped some water, and leaned back against a hollow log. 

"You should eat something, too." Harry said. "But save room for those tacos." 

Louis snorted. "You think we're that close?" 

Harry shrugged. The road couldn't be that long, and he was sure that once they got on it, it would be smooth sailing. They would find civilization in a few miles, and get the medical attention they so desperately needed. 

"I think so." He answered. 

Louis paused. "You think so?" He stared at the man in front of him. The man he'd trusted blindly for days. "I didn't leave the cabin for a think. You said that you'd found the road - " 

"Yes, the road," Harry interrupted. "Nothing more than that." Fiery green eyes were on his. "What did you think I said?"

Louis opened and closed his mouth. The cold was settling in, a feeling that he never wanted to feel again. He was also feeling anger, frustration, and everything in between. Just when he thought he had a read on Harry, it changed. He couldn't keep up. 

"I thought you had said you could get us out of here." He settled on tersely. 

Harry's face was expressionless. The wind had chapped at his cheeks, making them bright red. He was sure his looked the same. He looked down at the food in his hands and back up at Louis. 

"What exactly do you think I'm doing?" He asked. His voice was raised, but his tone was even. "You think I would pull you down the side of a fucking mountain for nothing?" 

He leaned back. He didn't like the way Harry was speaking. He hated to be made to feel like a burden, and that's what Harry was making him feel like. 

"I never asked you to do this, Harry. This was all your idea!" 

Harry tossed his head ack and laughed bitterly. It was ugly. A sinking feeling settled in Louis' gut. He knew what was coming. 

"At least my idea is getting us off of this God-forsaken mountain. Which, incidentally, happened because of your idea." Harry said. "I wish I'd never gotten on that plane." 

Louis scoffed. "Right, you'd rather be in your kitchen overlooking the fucking park, and be with your couch that was too expensive." He nodded. "I got it. I made a mistake. I've apologized for that. But I shouldn't have to apologize for that, Harry. How was I supposed to know the pilot would have a heart attack? I'm not a mind reader."

"That's for sure." Harry muttered. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry stood, tossing the sausage to the ground. Raleigh was quick to snatch it up. "Take the hint, Louis." He said. 

Louis frowned. He was bewildered. "Take the hint for what?" He yelled. "Stop playing mind games with me!" 

Harry ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. "I'm not playing mind games with you, Louis. I'm not doing anything with you, ever again. That's the hint!" 

Stunned, Louis watched the man in front of him. Everything he thought he knew and felt about Harry was destroyed in a single moment. He opened and closed his mouth. He used every single fiber in his body to fight the tears that were involuntarily building. 

"Don't act like I forced you to do anything. You were the one who started it." He began, voice shaky. "You started it and continued it. If you didn't want to do it, you wouldn't have done it. And I expected a prodigy like you to have the brain capacity to have an adult conversation. Not to quite literally hit it and quit it." 

Harry laughed sarcastically. Louis hated the sound. "You're old enough to understand how these things work, Louis. Or I assumed you to be, at least. That might be my mistake. Well, at least one of them." 

Louis threw the backpacks off of his body and hoisted himself up. It wasn't fair that Harry was the only one standing. He was using his height to his advantage and Louis hated it. He balanced himself precariously, breathing through the pain of standing on his leg. The snow underneath his feet gave way a little bit. He ignored it and pointed at Harry. 

"I don't understand why you're being so mean! Regardless of how either of us feel now,  I didn't do anything bad. And how dare you make me feel like I did." 

Harry frowned. "How any of us feel?"  He quoted. Then, realization dawned on him. "This doesn't leave the mountain, Louis. This was a mistake. We're going to go our separate ways in hopefully a short amount of time. I'm going to go back to Boston and you're going to go back to wherever you're from and get married and live with the fact that you cheated on your fiancé." 

Despite it being frozen, Louis could feel his face crumple. 

"You don't love me, Louis, and you don't have feelings for me." Harry continued. "This is some sort of trauma bond. You'll see that once we're out of here." 

His stomach twisted. Harry was taking his thoughts and throwing them back at him. The words coming from Harry's mouth were cruel and ugly and they made him want to vomit. This time, the tears couldn't be held back and a few escaped, hot down his face. He wiped at them angrily. 

"Don't tell me anything about trauma bonding. And certainly don't tell me how to feel." He shouted. "But believe me, whatever I thought I was feeling, it's certainly gone now. You're an arrogant son-of-a-bitch, Harry Styles. And I never want to see you again." 

He shifted his weight, staring at Harry. They were in a stand-off. They were both too proud to say anything else, and both were too proud to ignore what had just happened. 

He was the one to break eye-contact first. He turned around, his back to Harry. He took a deep breath. They were at a standstill. There was nowhere to go. Harry was silent behind him, and Raleigh was nowhere to be seen. The dog was smart, he cut his losses. Must be nice. 

He inhaled cool air, and that's when he heard it. He barely had time to react before there was a flash of white. From there, it was white noise and freezing cold. He was hit and tumbled down the mountainside. He hit something solid, and felt the worst pain of his life. He tumbled in what felt like every direction, finally landing on something solid. He could taste blood in his mouth. He couldn't move. 

And his last thought was that of Harry. 

-

He couldn't breathe. 

He couldn't breathe and it was dark and cold. It wasn't just any cold, either. It had seeped through his clothes and skin and settled into the marrow of his bones. He couldn't open his eyes. Was he dead? 

He must be. He couldn't feel his heartbeat. He couldn't even feel the press of his fingers against his own throat. He's dead. He died on that fucking mountain. He died and it wasn't even Louis' fault. 

No, he knew he was alive. No one deceased had their conscience rearing up on them. And right now, his was screaming at him, making his temples throb. How could he have said all of that to Louis? Of course the boy couldn't have known the pilot had heart issues. No one could have anticipated that. It was a one in a million accident that just so happened to them. It was actually a good idea. It would have been. And for Harry to cast blame on Louis, that was unfair. 

And he wouldn't even be able to tell him that. They were going to die in packed snow, victims of an avalanche at dusk. They would be frozen solid and might not even be found until spring. The snow hid all sorts of things. Maybe they wouldn't be found at all. 

Except, they would. Because Harry, despite his best efforts not to, had a conscience. And it was eating him alive. Pure stubbornness would allow him to dig his way out. But which way was out? How deeply was he buried? 

He spat, reading online somewhere years ago that if you're ever in an avalanche, to spit. It will tell which direction you're facing, and he was facing upwards. He tried to breathe deeply, but only got a small inhale. He wiggled around and used his feet and fought like hell. Eventually, he broke through the surface.  He was staring up at the sky. He inhaled several times, thankful to be able to do so. His heartrate still hadn't slowed. Maybe that was the adrenaline. 

He wiggled his way out and crawled as quickly away from where he'd been as he could. As he crawled, he realized he'd broken something, but was so disoriented that he couldn't tell what. He turned to the side of vomited. It only made the pain in his chest worse. Maybe he'd broken more ribs. It wouldn't surprise him if he'd nicked a lung. He laid down and was rolled sideways. He stopped finally in a ditch by the roadside. There was less snow there, and he crawled out. When he stood, he winced. If he hadn't broken his ankle, he'd sprained it for sure. He wiggled his fingers and toes. The last two fingers on his left hand were broken. 

"Fuck," He let out. "Fuck!" His voice reverberated through the trees. It broke the quietness around him. Made him feel less alone. The sky was darkening rapidly, turning purple and gray. He had maybe minutes before it was pitch black. 

Raleigh barked in the distance, and he whirled around, looking for the dog. He saw the yellow lab about thirty feet away, digging at the snow. There was something sticking out of it. A hand. Jesus Christ, it was Louis. He stumbled and crawled over to where Raleigh was digging. 

"Good boy," He praised Raleigh, pushing him away. He moved the snow away and revealed Louis' face. His nose was bleeding and he was unresponsive. His mind whirled with a hundred different things that could be wrong with the boy. "Fuck," He continued to dig Louis out, but it was futile. The snow was so packed and heavy. "Wake up, Louis, c'mon." 

Nothing. 

He felt for a heartbeat, and had to sit holding his own breath until he could feel the faint thumping underneath cold skin. When he felt it, tears sprang to his eyes. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry for their situation, and his mom and dad and sister, and for how he'd treated Louis, and how shitty the whole thing was. They were good people. Especially Louis. He didn't deserve this. He should be married by now, returning from his honeymoon and ready to celebrate his birthday. 

Instead, he might be dying. And this time, it was Harry's fault. He stopped by the road instead of continuing. It was his choice to rest. They could have been miles away from all of this. 

"Louis, I have to leave you." He said. There was no answer. He cupped Louis' cold cheek. His lips were blue. Harry could see where the tears had frozen on his face. He would never forget that sight. It would be burned into his memory forever. "I'm going to go get help. Raleigh will stay with you. Please be okay. Okay?" 

He pulled himself away and stumbled his way away from the piles of snow. He broke out into some form of running, half dragging his leg behind him. But he couldn't slow down. Not even for a minute. He was on the road. He had no excuse. This was not his life anymore. It was theirs. 

He ran until his lungs burned and he could feel the hot sting of tears on his frozen skin. He ran until the pain in his ankle made him want to stop. And then, he ran harder, faster, spurred on by Louis' cold face. His slow heartbeat. Raleigh, who deserved more than to die cold and alone. He ran until he came to a stop. 

Chest heaving, he blinked. Up ahead, maybe one hundred yards, were lights. Single beams cutting through the darkness. 

"Hey!" He tried to yell, but he couldn't find his voice. It fell flat in front of him. He waved his arms and kept running. Exhaustion had settled in when he stopped, and he ran like he was moving through maple syrup. 

It was no use. He fell to the ground. He couldn't move. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears and forehead. It was pounding. Maybe he was about to die. He probably only had moments to make peace with it. Regrets flooded his mind. He regretted not doing more to help Louis. He regretted not sending his family group chat an update. He regretted not petting the dog more. 

He felt wetness on his face. He opened his eyes and stared up at the sky. Snowflakes were mingling with stars. Dying or not, it was the most beautiful sight in the world. He wished he'd have more time to enjoy it. And then - 

"Hey! Are you alright?" 

Motors whirring and footsteps crunching on the snow, and then someone was shaking him awake. He opened his eyes for a nanosecond. 

"I need some help over here!" The voice yelled. "Just hang on, buddy. We're gonna get you some help."

He shook his head and pulled himself out of the strangers grip. They tried to calm him down, but he wasn't hysterical. He didn't need their help. Louis did. 

"My friend..." He pointed to the direction in which he'd came. "Please help him. Avalanche." 

He heard them speaking to each other, there was maybe three or four of them. Kind strangers. He wanted to say thank you. Maybe he did. They helped him stand and then he was sat on the back of a snowmobile. Ah, those were the lights. 

"Is this the direction you came?" The man in front of him asked. They were driving fast, and Harry had to hold on tight. 

"Yes!" He yelled over the wind. He could hear a few other snowmobiles behind them, but he kept his eyes closed. Just in case Louis wasn't alive. He didn't want to see it. 

He knew when they arrived. The snowmobiles slowed, and then stopped. He got off with the kind man in front of him. 

"By the dog," He said, so quiet that he thought maybe the men couldn't hear him. But they did. He heard them moving across the snow. He heard one greet Raleigh, and another curse. His heart dropped and he wanted to collapse. 

"He's alive." He heard one say. His eyes sprung open. After adjusting to the dark, he saw them carrying Louis down carefully. His left leg was mangled, even Harry could see that. It was a compound fracture, and his fingers itched to help. "But not for long. We've got to go. Hop on." 

He'd never moved so fast in his life. But he didn't need to. Help was here, and they weren't going to leave him or Louis or Raleigh. In fact, one man let Raleigh jump up on his lap before speeding off down the snowy road. 

Once he was on the back of the snowmobile, heading to safety, he felt himself relax. They'd done it. They made it. 

-

The beeping and whirring of hospital machines kept him awake. As a surgeon, he managed to tune it all out. But as a patient, it was all he could hear. It was weird, being on this side of the hospital. He was usually the one running around in the white coat, not laying in a hospital bed, waiting for meds and blood pressure checks. 

He sat up, wincing. His ribs were wrapped tightly. Four of them bad broken, and he'd only sprained his ankle. The last two fingers on his left hand were held together by a brace that went up to his elbow for stabilization. He was treated for hypothermia and his forehead got six stitches. He had an IV for fluids because he was dehydrated. He was surprised and thankful that he'd made it off the mountain with just those injuries. 

He grabbed his IV pole, made sure his gown was tightened, and walked out to the nurses station. It was bigger than the hospital they were taken to after their rescue. He knew they would be rerouted to a bigger hospital, and he was right. They needed a hospital with a surgical center, for Louis. It was still smaller than he was used to, but he knew that Louis would get the best care. 

He was impressed with the nursing staff, even if they were sick to death of him always leaving his room and arguing with their care. He knew doctors made the worst patients. 

"Mr. Styles, we told you to hit the call button if you needed anything." The nurse said, a small woman with a high, jet black ponytail. Her name was Leah, and Harry knew she was tired of him. "What can I get you?"

"I need a pair of sweatpants." He requested. "And then I need to know what room Louis Tomlinson is in." 

Leah pushed herself away from the desk and rounded the corner. She ushered him back into his room. "I'll get the sweatpants, and you need to get back into bed. You can visit Mr. Tomlinson later." 

He sat on the edge of the bed. "I would like to visit him now." 

She shook her head and adjusted the IV bag. "You can't do that."

"Well, how is he?" He asked. "Did he go into surgery?"

"You know I can't tell you that." Leah reminded him. 

"I'm his doctor." Harry protested. He watched her roll her eyes. He was affronted. 

"Nice try." Leah stepped to the doorway. "Get some rest, Mr. Styles. Tomorrow is Christmas." She left the room, sliding the door closed behind her. Her words rang in his head. It was Christmas Eve. It was Christmas Eve. Louis' birthday. They were rescued before Louis' birthday. Right? 

He stood and walked back out to the nurses station. He could hear Leah's sigh. 

"What time did we come in?" He asked, gripping his IV pole tightly. 

"The ambulance arrived at twelve-oh-seven in the morning." Leah answered. "On December 24th. You need to be in bed, Mr. Styles. You have broken ribs. Your ankle needs to be elevated." Her tone indicated that Harry should know all of this. 

But he couldn't help but smile. He did it. They did it. They got off the mountain and Louis wasn't spending his birthday on the mountain. He was spending it in a hospital, getting the care he needed. Soon, he'd be on a plane back home to safety. How ironic. 

He left the nurses station and went back into this room, much to the relief of Leah. He rifled through his personal effects, the dirty, tattered clothes that had kept him warm up there. He found his wallet and pulled out a couple of bucks. As he was doing so, Leah dropped off a pair of sweatpants. 

"Mr. Tomlinson is in the surgical ICU, room 208." She said before leaving. Harry knew that she had a soft spot for him, even though he was probably annoying the piss out of her. 

He pulled on the pants and grabbed his IV pole. Finding the surgical ICU was easy in a hospital as small as the one they were in. He was used to the enormous city hospital in Boston, with different buildings dedicated to different procedures. He was used to the hustle and bustle, used to constantly moving and treating patients. 

It felt nice to be treated for a change. 

Outside of the surgical ICU, he saw a vending machine. He browsed it, spotting what he was looking for. He fed the machine two dollars and grabbed his treat. He tucked it into the pocket and pressed the button to the ICU. He had a hard time convincing them to let him in, but finally, the doors buzzed and he pushed them open. 

At room 208, he paused. The door was open but the curtain was shut. This wing of the hospital was quiet. Patients were healing. They needed quiet. 

He pushed past the curtain and entered the small, dark room. Louis was fast asleep. His left leg was in a cast, held up at an angle. He had stitches on his face. His right eye and cheekbone were shadowed with a bruise. He was hooked up to a few monitors and there was an IV in his arm. Harry was sure he was being treated for dehydration and hypothermia as well. 

He sat on the chair next to the bed and listened to the steady monitor tracking his heartbeat. 

"I know you're probably high on drugs right now," He whispered. "But I am really sorry about what I said to you. And I'm not just saying that because we almost died. I said horrible things to you. I had no right or reason to. But hey, we aren't spending your birthday on the mountain. We got to the hospital seven minutes after midnight." 

He sighed and leaned back. He could only imagine what other injuries Louis had. He couldn't forget how his nose was bleeding from both nostrils. That usually meant head trauma. He hoped that wasn't the case. He would never forgive himself. 

"It's almost Christmas now, though." He continued. "It's almost ten at night. You'll spend Christmas in the hospital. But it's better than spending Christmas on the mountain." 

He sat a little while longer, letting the realization sink in. He still couldn't believe that they were in the hospital. He had to pinch himself a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. 

He stood, pulled the candy out of his pocket, and sat it on the bedside tray. "It's not tacos, but I think it's still pretty good. I'm surprised the vending machine had them." He stared at the package of Twizzlers. The candy reminded him of how hungry he was. He wondered if he could order something, having slept through dinner. 

"Harry."

He was at the door when he heard Louis speak. He swiveled around as quick as he could, ignoring the pain in his ankle. He walked over to the bed. Louis was blinking slowly, eyes unfocused. 

"Hey, how do you feel?" He leaned down and whispered. He brushed the brown hair gently off of Louis' face, mindful of his stitches and bruises. "I bet you feel pretty great right now, huh? They have better stuff than I did." 

Louis shook his head. "Yours worked great. I could barely feel pain. But with this stuff, I can barely feel anything." 

Harry laughed quietly. 

"It's my birthday." Louis said. 

Harry nodded. "It is your birthday." He confirmed. "For another few hours." 

Louis turned his head and looked at Harry. "I forgive you, you know." His voice was scratchy, and Harry helped him sip some water. When he was done, Louis tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Harry could tell it had exhausted him.  

"We can talk about this later." Harry assured him. He was looking at the monitors above Louis' head. His stats were good, great even, for someone who was exposed to the elements for a week and  a half. "You need to get your rest." 

Shaking his head, Louis reached his hand out. "Hand me those," He gestured to the Twizzlers. "I didn't think you heard me talking about these." 

Harry handed him the package after opening it. "Here you go. And I was really confused for awhile, I couldn't remember if I dreamed it or you'd actually said it. It was after the lake, right?"

"It was." Louis offered Harry a piece of licorice. He himself didn't take one, just held the package in his hands. "I tried to get you to answer me but you wouldn't." 

"It wasn't my finest moment." Harry laughed. His eyes swept over Louis' form, settling on his leg. "I assume they put a pin in your leg?"

"I don't remember," Louis answered. "I think so?" 

"Do you remember if they said anything about your head?" He asked. Visually, he could see the bruises and the laceration. But he was concerned about concussions, traumatic brain injuries, anything. Even though Louis was awake and responsive and coherent, he was still worried. He couldn't help it. 

"I don't. I'm sorry." 

"You don't have anything to be sorry for." Harry was quick to say. "I'll come back tomorrow and ask your doctors."

Louis closed his eyes. Harry could tell he was drifting off again. "Surprised you didn't tell them you were my doctor." 

Harry chuckled and stood. "I did, actually. They didn't believe me." 

He expected a little laugh, or a grin, out of Louis, but the boy was out cold again. For that, Harry was thankful. He could imagine that Louis was on some pretty strong stuff. After everything that he'd been through, he deserved a nice, warm bed and some good sleep. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Louis. Happy birthday." 

-

The next morning, after a fitful sleep, Harry was woken up by his mother squealing. His eyes sprang open. She was rushing over to his bed, tears in her eyes. She wrapped him up in a tight hug. 

"We got here as soon as we could, baby." She cradled him to her. He could feel her shaking. "Oh, my sweet boy. Thank God you're okay." She was getting choked up, and he was too. Deep down, when he was out there on that mountain, he feared he'd never see his family again. Even as much as he told Louis they would, part of him made peace with them dying up there. 

Now, here in his mother's arms, it felt surreal. 

"Mom, I'm okay." He reassured her. "I'm fine." 

She pulled away. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes were red. "You were in a plane crash," She said. Her voice cracked. "Your father and I had no clue. We thought you were kidnapped." 

Harry paused. "How did you - how did you know about the plane crash?" He hadn't spoken to anyone except the people that had rescued him. "Where's dad and Gemma? How did you all get here so soon from Cheshire?" 

"They're parking the car." She said, eyes searching his face. She ran her hands through his hair. "The hospital called us, baby. You told them my number. And we flew in when you wouldn't answer our calls and weren't on your flight. We flew right into Salt Lake City."

"The hospital told you I was in a plane crash?" He asked. 

She nodded. "And it's all over the news, love."

He searched his hospital bed for the remote. He finally found it looped around his bed and pressed the power button. He channel surfed until he found the local news. They were covering a story of a local library book drive. He kept it on, just in case something about their accident showed up. 

"How's the boy you were with?" His mother asked. She squeezed his hand between hers. "I asked about him, but they wouldn't tell me anything." 

Harry looked at her. She had genuine concern etched across her face. "He's okay. He'd broken his leg in the accident. I tried to stabilize it, but on the way down, he suffered a compound fracture to the same leg. All I know is that he had surgery on it. They wouldn't tell me anything else about him. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that. You know." 

She nodded. "I know." She stroked the back of his hand. "Are his parents here? I want to speak to them. We all share this bond now, whether we want to or not." 

He swallowed. "He um. His parents are deceased." 

He saw his mother's eyes well up again, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. "He has no one?" She whispered. "No one to come and greet him.  What room is he in, love? I'd like to see him." 

"He's in the surgical ICU. Room 208. When dad and Gemma get up here, I can take you to his room." He said. "I'm sure he'd love to meet you. We spoke of you quite often up there." 

Her eyes, still wet with tears, brightened. "You did?"

"We did. He asked about family a lot, actually." He answered. "I think it helped him, listening to stories I'd tell." 

She smiled warmly. 

"Harry!" It was Gemma, and seconds later, he was wrapped up again, this time in his sister's arms. She squeezed him. He could feel her shaking. She was crying. Over her shoulder, his father was tearing up. He gestured his father closer, and then found himself embraced in a bear hug from every member of his family. It was warm, claustrophobic, and the best feeling that he'd had in a long time. 

-

Louis was awake and watching the television when he walked into his room about an hour later. The boy smiled when he saw him, and pointed to the screen on the wall. 

"We're on the news." He said. Harry stepped further into the room and nodded. He stood by the bed and stared at the screen. There was pictures of the wreckage. A lump grew in his throat. Louis turned the volume up. 

"More on the mountain journey that turned into a miraculous survival for two men who'd chartered a plane on December 16th. Photos shown here are of the small plane that crashed when 61 year-old pilot Beau Kissinger suffered a fatal heart attack mid-flight. The plane crashed on the high Uinta Mountains, leaving just the shell for the two men to seek shelter in. Details are unknown of their journey at this time, but two of the men who rescued them are here now, and have this to say," 

The reporter cut to an interview of two men, wearing Carhartt jacket's and beanies. Their faces were wind chapped and red. Harry assumed they spent the majority of their time outdoors in the cold. 

"We were just standing outside the bar and Henry points out a figure in the distance. It's getting dark so we couldn't really see, but it was a man. We hopped on our snowmobiles and he told us there was someone else out there. They'd been in an avalanche. The other one was buried pretty good and banged to all heck, but we got them out and to the hospital. They had a cute dog too, surprised they all survived up there." 

"And you had no clue that they'd been trapped on the mountain for days?" The reporter asked. "That they'd suffered a traumatic accident?"

One man shook his head. "No ma'am. But now...it's a miracle they survived. Plain and simple. Uh, no pun intended." 

The camera cut back to the reporter. "We'll have more on this story as it develops. With temperatures reaching as low as five degrees Fahrenheit and wind-chill in the below-zeros, you're exactly right. A miracle indeed." 

"I didn't anticipate that this tragedy would make us celebrities." Louis muttered. He muted the television and looked over at Harry. "Did you?" 

He shook his head. "Ah, no. I didn't." He answered. "How are you feeling?"

Louis shrugged. "I had to get up today. Nurses had me try out a pair of crutches." He rolled his eyes. 

"How did that feel?"

Another eye roll, and Harry laughed. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes. Oh, by the way, I told the doctors that they can discuss my medical issues with you." Louis said. He sat his hands in his lap. "I trust you."

He stuffed his hands into his sweat pockets. "Thank you. Really. I'll talk to them later." He was honored. It was too much. "Listen, my mum, she's here, and she wants to see you. If it's weird, let me know and I'll make up some excuse." 

Louis shook his head and sat up in bed. "No, no, that's fine. I'd love to meet her. She's here now?" He looked excited. Harry's heart thumped weirdly. Maybe he needed to have it checked. 

"She is here. She's outside your room. Want me to let her in?" Harry asked, and when Louis nodded, he stepped to the door and pushed the curtain back. He gestured, and then she was stepping through the doorway. She was shorter than Harry, with brown hair and a beautiful, warm smile. 

He stepped out to give them some privacy, but he watched through the glass. His mother greeted Louis with an embrace, and noticed how Louis seemed to melt from it. It dawned on him; Louis had never received a hug from his mother. His chest clenched painfully and a lump grew in his throat. He couldn't imagine not having his mother around. 

He watched his mother pull the chair close and sit next to his bed. She held his hand in hers, running her thumb over his knuckles comfortingly. He saw the expressions she made. They were soft, empathetic, and warm. All of her motherly love was pouring through her words and her grasp, enveloping Louis in something he'd never had before. He couldn't tell what she was saying, but he knew it was kind, and heartfelt, and soft. 

They had conversations up on the mountains about family. Louis would talk of Nathan, but Harry's stories of his family were endless. He spoke of family holidays, and birthdays, and vacations where everyone was in a bad mood. He talked of his childhood, growing up with his parents, rebelling against them as a teenager only to apologize with his tail tucked as an adult. He spoke of his family so highly that some nights, it felt like Louis knew them. 

His mother was right. 

They all shared a bond through this, whether they liked it or not. 

He watched as his mother stood and pulled Louis into a hug once more. She petted his hair and kissed his cheek. When she came out of the room, he could tell she had teared up. He was sure Louis had done the same. 

"He's such a sweet boy." She said. She led Harry back to his room, walking slowly. They moseyed through the busying hospital halls. Nurses were hurrying, doctors were mingling, and breakfast trays were being handed out. Monitors were beeping, call lights were on, and it felt good to be back in the thick of it all. Whether he was a patient or a doctor, Harry loved being back in his element. 

"He is." Harry agreed with his mother. She was rarely wrong. 

"The poor thing, he said they think he'll be in the hospital for awhile before being released. He mentioned the promise you made him. About getting him down the mountain before his birthday. You are a gentleman, Harry Styles." She was choked up, but she continued. "And then the physical therapy. It's a good thing he knows a doctor who can help." Her tone was teasing, but he knew she wasn't joking. Even in the condition they were in, his mother was playing matchmaker. 

He groaned. "Mum, no. He has a fiancé." 

She leaned in. "Who's not here." She said. "Now, your father popped out to the store and got some breakfast. He was kind enough to get Louis some as well. Would you be so kind as to take it to him?" 

-

The next morning,, Harry was given release papers and instructions on his care at home. Leah hand delivered them and told him that under no circumstances was he to return to her hospital. He gladly agreed. His parents had his things, all of his luggage from the wreckage. They'd brought him clothes to wear, a pair of jeans and a cream colored sweater. He felt like a new man. 

Before they left, he had to see Louis. To say goodbye. His parents left him alone, understanding. His mother gave him a look before they took the elevator down to the parking garage. Louis was still in the surgical ICU, but not for much longer. 

"Knock knock," He rapped on the metal of the door before stepping inside. 

Louis was staring at the muted television, and he looked thankful to have company. His eyes scanned Harry's form. "Leaving?" His tone was even. He tried not to let his emotions come out. 

"I am." Harry answered. "I came by to say goodbye. And to leave you my number. Just in case." 

Louis took the piece of paper Harry handed him and stared at it. "Going back to Boston?" His bright blue eyes pierced right through him. He looked tired, worn out, but that would all change with some rest.

"England. Just for awhile. I'm taking a leave from work. Just to readjust, I guess." He answered. He shifted, the air suddenly heavy. He'd made it awkward. He just knew it. He rocked back and forth a few times on his heels. "Is, um, is Nathan coming?"

Louis lowered the paper to his lap and nodded. "I called him yesterday. He couldn't get a flight until early this morning. He should be here in a few hours." 

Nothing could keep me from you if I was Nathan, Harry thought. Hell, even if I wasn't Nathan, if my missing fiance turned up in a hospital, God himself couldn't keep me away. Then, his mind replaced missing fiance with Louis. If Louis was my fiance, I'd cross oceans to get to him. 

"Please, just..." He let the sentence taper off, still staring directly at Louis. "Call me sometime. Please."

Louis nodded. He waited until Harry was almost out of the door before speaking again. "Harry." 

Back still turned, Harry stopped. Please ask me to stay. We're strangers, but we're not. Ask me to stay here with you. Please ask. "Yes?"

"Thank you." Louis cleared his throat. "For saving my life."

He tilted his head. If he didn't take a step forward, he would stay forever. Forever is where he wanted to be. Instead, he said, "You're welcome, Louis", and let his feet carry him out of the hospital and outside, where the world was big, loud, and where people weren't Louis. 

-

Readjustment was hard. Harry didn't realize how difficult it would be to be in a grocery store, surrounded by what he once thought he'd never have again. Surrounded by people who had no clue what had happened to him. To them. To listen to them when he never thought he'd see people again. 

He could live without doing his job for a few weeks. That was easy. His fingers were still broken, impeding his ability to perform surgery. His broken ribs he could live with. He could work with those, but it was prohibited by his hospital. When he spoke to them about his leave, he gave very little details. They were quick to insist he take all the time he needed, and called him crazy when he referred to his time on the mountain a break. 

His mother and father were adamant about his break too. They flew him back home to Cheshire and let him hole up in his childhood bedroom. They gave him space, and didn't question it when he wanted to fall asleep in front of the fireplace in their family room. They didn't say anything when he ate very little from his dinner plate. He told them that his stomach had shrank considerably, which it had, but in reality, he was still in the mindset of saving food. 

The only good thing about his time off was Raleigh. He'd adopted the dog after he'd discovered that Beau's wife had passed away the year prior, which explained Beau's sadness explaining his bucket list and the maps in his office. Their only child had five kids, and no room for a dog. He was only too happy to take the sweet yellow lab. 

Raleigh was his shadow, following him on his morning walks, and into the bathroom, and would lay with him on the floor when he slept. His sister fell in love with Raleigh, and would stop by every day after work to visit him, and Harry. She was cautious around him. He eventually realized that while he thought he'd never see his family again, his family thought they'd never see him again. 

It was a hard pill to swallow. 

As his life went on, his phone would buzz occasionally with phone calls from Louis. They would come pretty regularly, until after two weeks. Then, they would come once every few days. And then, one morning in January, they stopped completely. 

Another week went by, and he got his mail forwarded from the hospital in Boston. There was a large manila envelope that caught his attention. The return address was for a Louis Tomlinson. As he opened it, he wondered if Louis hadn't gotten married. 

Inside were pictures. The developed pictures from the mountain. He sank down on the couch and stared down. Memories flooded back. Despite being in his parent's house, in front of the fireplace, he shivered. The mountain snow was so cold, even through the pictures. The wreckage seemed so small. How had we holed up in there for days? There were pictures of Raleigh, and shots from the cabin. 

On the last picture, there was a sticky note: only you would understand. He peeled it off. The last picture was of him, cheeks red and cold. Hair shoved messily underneath his beanie. The wind had been blowing. He had been looking out at the mountaintop. His eyes were bright, but it must have been the light. He remembered that day. 

That was the day that he thought that they might never get down. 

He knew Louis had been taking pictures of everything. He heard the shutter click. But seeing them now, in his hands...he missed it. Not the ice and the snow and the deathly cold. He didn't miss feeling helpless and hopeless. But he did miss being with someone, one on one. Forced to get along. To get to know someone for what and who they were. No facades, no fronts. He got to know another human being in a raw, authentic way. They survived together. They cheated death. 

That wasn't something he could run from. 

He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never make another connection like that with anyone else. Ever. He couldn't escape the person he'd tried to make himself; a doctor, hardened shell, emotionless, withdrawn from personal relationships. And now, he couldn't escape the person he'd become up on the mountain. 

Or the person he was up there with. 

-

Louis' hands shook nervously. He kept glancing out of the windows, although it was futile. The rain was coming down in sheets, obscuring his view. It turned the people walking by into blurry masses. 

He took a sip of his chai tea. It was hot, and he cupped his hands around the mug, letting the heat seep into his skin. He shivered. He thought he'd never get warm again. It had been almost a month since they'd been rescued. Almost four weeks of no Harry. 

He couldn't pretend that Nathan was Harry. He'd tried, but found the smile couldn't reach his eyes when Nathan was rushing into his hospital room. The hands that doted on him in the hospital weren't the hands he wanted. Nathan was too loud, too close. And not Harry. 

He'd taken advantage of Nathan's presence long enough to get settled into his apartment, and then he broke off the engagement. He'd tearfully handed back the engagement ring. Nathan tearfully accepted it. 

"I knew you'd changed." Nathan had said at his door. "I'd made peace with it. But I didn't know it would be this much."

It stung, but a weight was lifted and he could breathe easier. In hindsight, he probably should have kept someone around. Trying to get around with his cast was awkward at first, and the crutches rubbed his underarms raw. But he was alone, and while he preferred it that way, he couldn't help but feel like something was missing. Or someone. 

He didn't want to watch television, and he couldn't go outside easily. Not that he'd want to, the weather was abhorrent. It seemed as if his gloomy mood was being matched. 

All he did was bundle up and lay on his couch. He'd read books, or stare out the window. He kept his thermostat sat to a higher temperature. He ordered blankets and socks online and had them delivered to his door. He took steaming hot showers. And while those kept him warm on the outside, something inside of him was still cold. There was a void that hot tea and sweaters couldn't fill. 

He'd tried to reach Harry, but gave up after awhile. He could take a hint. It hurt, after Harry had told him to call anytime. Clearly, it was just a courtesy. But, after two and a half weeks, he'd faced the music and had his pictures developed. And staring at them, he knew he had to send them to Harry. He was the only other person who would know what he was thinking. How he was feeling. 

So he sent them. And four days later, he got a text. Just a simple I'd like to meet. They'd corresponded just enough for Louis to send Harry an address and a date. Which led him to be sitting in a little corner cafe, staring out into the pouring rain, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry. 

He checked his watch. They'd agreed to meet at ten-thirty, and it was eleven-ten. A lump grew in his throat when the thought that Harry might not show up crossed his mind. He could stay, to save face, and order some lunch, but he would rather go home, take some pain medicine, and drift off into a deep sleep. And then, maybe when he woke, he'd delete Harry's number. 

Just when he'd decided to call it a day, he saw Harry walking towards his table. He hadn't heard the door chime. He sat, quiet until Harry was standing next to him. He wanted to stand, but the cumbersome cast on his leg prevented that. 

"I thought you'd send me your address, not a cafe's." Harry said. "I never meant to inconvenience you." 

He shook his head. "It's not." He replied. "I needed to get out anyway." 

"Not in this weather." Harry pulled out the chair across from Louis and sat. He stared down at the menu, biting his lower lip. Seconds later, he met Louis' eyes. "How are you feeling?" 

"I'm okay. I'm...readjusting." He took another sip of his tea. "The cast takes some getting used to, but I don't really leave my apartment anyway. How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged. "I feel better now that I'm not on the mountain." He tried to joke, but only he found it funny. And it wasn't even that funny. He knew one day they'd be able to joke about it. "I'm okay, considering."

Louis looked over at the cast on Harry's arm. "You can't perform surgery," He noted. "But you probably don't want to, right?"

"Not for awhile. I know I'll get cleared eventually, but I extended my leave." He answered. "Readjustment is hard. It's funny, I never put much thought into it. All of my trauma patients, they were just that; patients. Another body on my operating table. I never put any thought into how or why they were on my table. Trauma is something you have to go through to understand." 

"Unfortunately." 

"Unfortunately." 

Louis finished his tea, and Harry ordered them two more. As he stood at the counter, waiting, Louis studied him. His hair was the same length, tied back. He was the same height and build, maybe a little thinner. But he knew he was too. Their time on the mountain had been a diet neither wanted to go on. He moved a little slower from the broken ribs. Louis could tell he wasn't used to being down one hand, struggling to carry their tea to the table. 

"I could have helped," Louis took the cup from Harry. 

"You could not have," Harry replied. 

That got a laugh from both of them, finally. 

"What a pair," Harry shook his head fondly. 

"We could be." Louis found himself saying. He watched as Harry's head snapped up. Their eyes met. His stomach sank. The look on Harry's face wasn't good. He wanted to take it back, but it was too late. The damage had been done. 

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Harry said. He looked around the cafe. Out the window. Anywhere but Louis' face. "We can't...we just can't." 

It was crushing. To sit across from the man who'd he'd developed an intimate connection with and hear those words...it was soul crushing. And, embarrassing. He knew his cheeks were red, but at least he wasn't tearing up. 

Yet. 

"Why?" He found himself asking. He stared down at his tea. If Harry didn't want to look at him, then he didn't want to look at Harry. 

A long suffering sigh. "We just can't. It wouldn't work." Was Harry's weak reply. 

"You don't mean that." 

"Louis, for God's sake, I do mean it." Harry said. He tapped his fingers against the table. Louis could feel his leg shaking underneath it. "It's a trauma bond." 

"It's not!" He sat up straighter, voice raised. "Stop saying that."

"I would know, Louis. I'm a trauma surgeon - " 

"A surgeon, not a therapist or anyone else who can diagnose things." Louis spat. "You're scared. Of what? The worst has already happened." He gestured to their visible injuries. "You said those words to me right before we were rescued."

Before you were swept away by an avalanche, Harry thought. 

"You have a guilty conscience, or something," Louis continued. He pushed his tea away and grabbed his crutches. "You also have a family, and friends to help you through it. Your awesome job is letting you take leave. You can walk outside without help. I have no one. The one person who understands what we went through doesn't want to help me. You're scared. Why did you ask to meet with me? Just to leave me again?"

Harry looked up. It was hard to meet his blue eyes. There were tears in them, making his eyelashes so tragically beautiful. His cheeks were red, a healthy red from warm blood flow, not from ice cold wind. 

"Again?" He echoed. "When did I leave you the first time?"

It took Louis several moments to answer. He looked all around the small cafe. The wrought iron tables around them were empty. There were two people in line, and a bored barista stacking muffins. The rain had deterred people from getting out and about. 

"At the hospital." He answered. "I wanted you to stay." 

"You never asked me to." Harry said. Would he if Louis had asked? 

"I couldn't. You had your family there. They were so concerned." Louis answered. "I couldn't ask you to stay with me, not when they needed you." 

"You needed me too." Harry realized. 

"No." Now he was being defiant. Trying to save face. "I just...I don't know. I thought things would be different. I thought I could come home and things would be fine. I would get married and be happy. But I can't." 

Harry's eyes flitted to Louis' left hand. No wedding ring. "You didn't get married?"

Louis shook his head. He looked so sad. "No. It wasn't what I wanted. Not anymore." He used a napkin to wipe at his eyes. Then, he shook his head. "I'm sorry. None of this is what I wanted to say. I should go." 

He used his crutches to pull himself into a standing position. He tossed some money onto the table. 

"Will you call me the next time you're in town?" He asked Harry. He knew it was highly unlikely that Harry would be in his city again. He knew that this was the last time they would see each other again. Soon, they'd stop all contact and everything that they'd gone through would be just that: something they'd gone through. 

Harry nodded, but he gave no answer. Louis inhaled shakily, and left the cafe, staying underneath the awnings of the buildings as he walked slowly down the sidewalk. The rain hadn't let up, and there was a chill creeping into the air. All he wanted to do was curl up on his couch and get warm. 

He rounded the corner and stopped suddenly. Harry was in his city. 

Harry was in his city. 

The city that was hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of miles away from Boston. Harry flew back to America and didn't go to his home. He went to Louis'. 

With shaky hands, he turned himself around on the crutches. Anticipation and trepidation built up inside of him. Despite the chill, he was warm. Harry came to him. And he'd just left him sitting in a cafe. What was he thinking?

He rounded the corner and stopped suddenly. He shrank back to avoid the body he almost ran into. He knew that body. He craved that body. 

"You turned around," Harry said, looking down. The ends of his hair were damp. 

"You came to see me." Louis countered. 

Harry nodded. He pulled Louis into his arms, crutches falling to the ground. Neither cared. They were both where they were meant to be. Warmth replaced the cold that they had carried with them, the cold that had somehow seeped into their bones and never left. 

"You told me to see you next time I'm in town." He answered. "I have a feeling I'm going to be here awhile."