"Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute." -Edgar Allen Poe

-

Emmanuel wasn't sure what he was doing. His legs seemed to move on their own without him having to focus on where he was heading. He wasn't lost no, he knew the hospital well enough that he more than likely could maneuver around the place blindfolded and in a wheelchair.

But it didn't make what he was about to do any easier.

The nurse stood in the doorway of Alexander's hospital room after precisely three minutes of walking, carefully watching the rise and fall of the boy’s chest as he tried not to tear up himself. There was almost nothing left for Alex, and he didn't want to be the one to tell him. The boy had already lost his parents and his sister, and Emmanuel had lost her as well. Even if they were cousins, Emmanuel considered them siblings. Even then his heart ached at the condition Alex was in, but he was alive at the least, even though the large bruise on Alex's cheek was turning a harsh purple to match the color of his new cast. He would be sore alright.

He suddenly wished he wasn't still in his scrubs as he sat down beside Alex’s bed, taking the boy's good hand to hold. He needed some comfort with his sister not around to do it anymore. Gently did Emmanuel brush his thumb against the back of Alex’s hand, trying his best not to cry for the third time in the past two days. He couldn't let himself cry again in front of Alex even if his puffy eyes were sure to give him away, but still he waited.

Not even another minute later he saw Alex’s eyes blink open, finally waking up from his two day long sleep. Emmanuel only offered a pained smile, especially as Alex looked around the room quickly, trying to spot his sister before looking back at him.

“Manny?” Alex asked quietly, his voice breaking with each word. Here it came. The one question that would have him breaking down into sobs all over again as he averted his eyes from Alex, letting him ask even if he didn't want to tell him he lost the only person, besides himself, left to care for him.

“Where's Sparrow?”

-

Much to her surprise the storm had let up the next morning. One minute she was convinced she had trapped them both by deciding to wait, and the next there was nothing. Not even a flurry fluttering in the bitter winter wind. Staring out the window, Sparrow had to wonder if they were even still actually on earth and not in some inbetween plane, or maybe Death was continuously pulling the strings to push them along.

She could almost feel him there. His eerie calm enticing her to drift off and take her chances elsewhere. She was almost tempted to call for him, to ask, but she quickly dug her fingertips into her palms to snap herself out of her thoughts. Sparrow had barely glanced down at her hands, little crescents indented in the skin but she couldn't care less. Anything to get her to focus was a blessing on its own.

“We should head out soon,” Sparrow finally said, not bothering to look over at Eric. “Find some road to follow along. Maybe there's some kind of town or city near by, this cabin wouldn't just be in the middle of nowhere.” It could be a few miles off, but if whoever occupied it wanted food or gas or entertainment, there was somewhere nearby to supply it. She refused to believe that they were dumped in the middle of nowhere with nowhere to go. It took a moment longer, but finally she had looked over at Eric after ignoring him for too long.

He had been sitting on the other side of the small cabin, in front of a window and seemingly keeping watch. And when she spoke, he turned to face her, a curious look in his eyes. “I would say let’s get ready, but we don’t really have much to take with us, huh?” He mumbled, standing up nonetheless.

“I would say we should find another jacket. Either for you or for me, but neither of us should go out with bare arms.” That was a sure way to freeze to death more than likely, and they didn't have time for that.

“Well, unless we suddenly stumble into a department store located in the woods, I doubt we’ll be able to find any clothes, much less a warm jacket, any time soon,” Eric said plainly, though it was obvious he did not plan to take the jacket back as he made his way to the door which just irritated Sparrow further.

“Can you at least try to look in the shed out back?” Sparrow finally snapped, crossing her arms over her chest as she spoke. “There's piles of junk in there. I'd rather you try to look, otherwise I'll be hauling your frozen ass back here in twenty minutes.”

Finally he just held his hands up in surrender, for once not having anything sarcastic to snap back even if he still muttered something under his breath while making his way to the door. Finally he reached the door, stepping outside without much evident hesitation, and not a word spoken from her as she watched him leave. Sparrow knew, she knew she was being harsh to him, but they had no time to lose. Every moment lost was another moment she wouldn't be spending with Alex. She merely sat on the dusty old bed once more, watching the flames as she waited for him to find his way back, hopefully with a jacket. She wouldn't admit it, but she didn't like the idea of him freezing to death, but there was nothing else to do but wait.

-

By the time he reached the shed, Eric was trembling already, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Even if he wasn’t sure what he’d find in there, he was happy to stumble into the shed and close the biting cold out from behind the door. For a moment, while he let his eyes adjust to the dark room, he wondered why there was a shed there to even begin with. There had to be some sort of explanation as to why Death allowed for it to be there.

It was when he started to recognize some of the junk that he got his answer.

First thing he stumbled into was a box filled with all of Jaime’s old science projects back when he was a young, happy nerd. All of the failed editions of his miniature volcanos, one of which, Eric remembered with a small smile, actually burned his brother’s eyebrows off in the middle of their fifth grade science fair. Emily had to spend three hours with him in the bathroom with their mom’s bag of makeup to hopefully draw some new ones on before he could show his face again, Eric had been tasked with keeping watch outside, of course.

Hidden behind all of the old dusty science projects were a bunch of Eric’s old sketchbooks, most of which made him cringe when flipping through because of how horribly disproportionate the layout of the design was. And yet, he was still amused when seeing how he’s always had an affinity for one day actually creating these crazy but beautiful building designs, though the actual drawings changed over time from shaky crayon to precise pencil lines.

After putting all of the notebooks back where he found them, Eric then spotted his first bicycle, the once flaming red paint was now chipping away into flakes and the chain had become rusted. He remembered having to teach himself how to ride the bike, with and without the training wheels, since his father was too busy and Eric wanted to be able to teach both Jaime and Emily. It involved a lot of crashing into neighbors’ trash bins and into a bunch of bushes, though he definitely wore those cuts and bruises likes badges of honor.

Finally, which was a great relief to him, he found a jacket waiting for him, being draped on top of an open box filled with old photos. For a moment, Eric ignored the jacket to go through the contents of the box, curious because his parents never thought to take pictures of the three of them when they were all younger. 'It’s waste of film,' his mother always berated whenever Jaime tried to ask why they never took pictures as a family. And yet there they were, a whole collection of him and his siblings through the years. He genuinely smiled while thumbing through them all, for a moment forgetting the chill that just seemed to be getting worse every moment that his arms remained bare. Why couldn’t have he just died in a sweater? That would have made things a lot easier.

Reluctantly, he began to put all of the photos away except for one that was at the very bottom of the pile. It was him, Jaime, and Emily all standing proud and smiling like there was no tomorrow in their army distributed t-shirts and dark camouflage pants, they had just started their tour and they were still hopeful that all would be well. Eric didn’t know why he liked that photo in particular, maybe since it was the least creepiest since he remembered that one being taken of him, but he folded it up and tucked it into his pocket anyways. Then, he finally turned to the jacket that was draped over the box, a black parka that looked a bit worse for wear but cozy nonetheless. As eager as he was to pull it on and embrace in the protection it had against the bitter winter wind, he noticed a small piece of paper peeking out from one of its pockets, which he reluctantly plucked out.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds before he recognized the careful handwriting that his sister has--had--worked to perfect growing up, and of course it was in blue ink, she refused to ever write in anything that wasn’t blue. Just seeing her handwriting again was enough to make his breath hitch, him lightly running his thumb over the ink and pretending he could imagine her writing that note to him and maybe the sound of her voice as she mumbled what she wrote back to herself.

‘Stay warm, little brother.’

It took some time before Eric was willing to stuff the piece of paper into his pants pocket, for safekeeping of course even if he was still in slight denial that his sister, the one who beat him by 7 minutes in being born and always declared herself to be older than him, actually wrote that note. Of course he was skeptical of Death, not entirely sure that his intentions were just to help him and Sparrow out, there had to be something else if he was messing with Eric with something as serious and meaningful as his sister.

He took the time walking from the shed to the cabin to elaborate on these thoughts, the sound of snow crunching beneath his shoes was dull to his ears and the forest around him blurring into the background. Could his sister be alive; had she been given the same chance as he and Sparrow had and succeeded? Or was Death using her as a pawn to mess with him? That would have been quite a low blow if that was the case and Eric, for a moment, wasn’t really sure if playing right into Death’s game was such a good idea.

That thought caused him to stop all together in his journey back to the cabin, his shaky breath visibly billowing out in front of him and the cabin itself clear in sight, where he knew Sparrow was waiting for him reluctantly. What choice did he have? Give up and drag Sparrow down with him yet again? Give up and leave Jaime to fend for himself out in the living world? No, he had to keep going even if all his instincts were screaming at him that it was all a giant trap. And yet, he had no choice.

-

Sparrow had become impatient. It was a flaw of hers, patience wasn't ever something that came easily. Sure, she tried, but that didn't work. By the time she searched the entire cabin again for anything useful, she had peeked out the window only to see Eric barely heading into the shed. Admittedly she counted, had braided and unbraided her hair, and even searched once more for anything she could have missed. For any more notes or anything of the sort. The moment she gave up she matched straight towards the door, ready to move on despite the creaking of the floor seemingly protesting her going any further.

She paused, her fingers inches from the doorknob as dread filled her stomach. When they left, they had a better chance of dying out there. Death could do whatever he wanted. They were at his mercy.

A chill ran through the cabin, putting out the small fire they had and leaving Sparrow in the dark. She froze, she couldn't move, not as the chill made an unpleasant shudder rack down her spine. Not as she heard it, a whisper at her ear with a calming voice she knew, the cold air caressing her skin.

“Go.”

And it was gone. She knew it had been Death pushing her along, she recognized the heavy voice. The anger that she felt than was more than enough for her to nearly throw open the door and step out into the bitter cold. Cursing under her breath she nearly plowed straight into Eric, who she then blinked up at in surprise.

“It seems you found a jacket,” Sparrow remarked, raising an eyebrow at the cozy coat.

“You were right, I shouldn’t have questioned you when you told me to go to the shed,” Eric mumbled quietly, just pulling the coat closer around himself. Eric admitting she was right was the last thing she expected him to say. Sparrow looked away then, hoping he wouldn't see the inkling of a smile on her lips when she turned.

“Let's go then. We'll just have to pray that this doesn't end up like To Build a Fire,” Sparrow said then, immediately starting a brisk enough walk across the blindingly white snow. She hated second day snow. The second day was when it all turned to ice and it was impossible to try not to slip.

“End up like what?” He asked as he started to follow beside her, doing his best to keep up despite constantly slipping on the second day snow.

“To Build a Fire,” Sparrow started before realizing he hadn't read the story at all. It wasn't surprising to say the least. “The short story by Jack London. The man in the story believes he can survive in the Alaskan wilderness by himself. In being stubborn, he freezes to death after suffering for sixteen pages only to be extremely close to shelter and food had he followed the trail.” She couldn't even remember where she had read it first. She only remembered how angry she was by the time she reached the end.

Eric nodded slowly as she recapped the whole story, though it was obvious he really wasn’t following along. “So we need to not freeze to death?” He asked then, as if that wasn’t the objective they were both already working to overcome.

“Obviously,” Sparrow deadpanned with a roll of her eyes. She knew, she knew she was being way too harsh on him but what else did he expect? To hold hands and sing? She didn't even want to be within ten feet of him.

“You know what?” Eric asked suddenly. He was no longer walking beside her, instead staying where he was in the snow and wrapping the jacket tighter around him. “I get why you don’t like me, I do. But what I can’t seem to wrap my head around is why you treat me like I’m an idiot, like I’m the piece of gum you found on the bottom of your shoe and you’re now inconvenienced by me.

“It isn’t as if I maliciously chose to crash into you, as I wanted to drag both you and I down and leave people back at home waiting for us. I have someone who needs me, who’s probably alone right now because he’s too stubborn to ask anyone for help even if he’s sick. That’s the only reason I am here right now and I would have appreciated some sort of common decency and yet I haven’t gotten any! So good luck, I’m finding my own way back to Jaime,” Eric said, his voice just becoming more and more unsteady as he went along until he finally turned on his heel and stormed off. Sparrow merely watched, her gaze on his hands that were clenching and unclenching at his sides as he walked through the snow, the loud crunch of it beneath his shoes the only sound audible for a few moments. Sparrow only watched, not speaking for a moment before slowly she bent down and shoveled the freezing snow into her hand.

She didn't hesitate. Not for a moment as she threw the snowball at the back of his head, watching him turn around in surprise. She didn't hesitate to make another, holding it in her hands even as the bitter cold ice started to burn in her hands. The moment she had his attention again she wanted nothing more than to hit him again, but she didn't.

“You don't get the right to walk off,” Sparrow shouted angrily then, practically trembling as she spoke. “You don't get the right! You're the genius who picked up your phone! You're the reason we're both here in the first place!

“Alex hasn't talked to me in a year. The moment our parents was gone so was he. I lost my brother, and just when I was getting him back you happened! He's lost so much already, and now he's orphaned thanks to you. He'll be lucky if my cousin can even take him in. You don't love anyone enough if you thought it was okay, for even a second to pick up that phone. You-” Sparrow chucked the second snowball at him, “You didn't think for even a second about yourself or anyone else, and I hope you're proud. Because whoever this Jaime is, isn't going to forgive how he lost you if you were all he had left.” She knew Alex would never forgive her for breaking her promise to him. It was the bittersweet truth, and if she had to live with it then so did he. Sparrow might have been a dwarf compared to Eric, but she stood tall. She stood her ground, and it was all she could do.

Eric went silent, and even as the snow slowly slid off of his face and clothes, it was obvious how he was holding himself back. A few heartbeats later he bent down and scooped up a fair amount of snow, shaping it into a ball, and launched it right back at her, aiming for her legs rather than her face, and Sparrow had nearly fallen trying to dodge it, feeling her cheeks burn with heated anger as she herself hurriedly shoveled up another snowball, throwing it right at his chest and watching as it exploded on contact.

She didn’t even see Eric hesitate to scoop up more snow, his hands bright red and shaking by then as he molded it, and then once more threw it right at her legs, his breathing coming out harsh and ragged. She could see it in the puffs of white smoke disappearing into the air as it left his lips. Sparrow barely had time to step out of the way of that way, feeling it whizz by so fast she could barely see it.

Sweet Jesus. If that hit her in the face she would have been down for the count for the rest of her non-living life.

Her own hands had gone numb as she picked up more snow, once more aiming it towards his chest, but everything seemed to move slowly then as she watched Eric dodge the snowball for the first time. She blinked, just once, and he had fallen on his ass doing so.

She blinked again, unable to help the laugh that finally bubbled out of her lips as she bent over, freezing yet laughing. The sound itself echoed in her ears. Her first real laugh in years. She couldn't breathe, and tried to compose herself once more only for her vision to become blurry with tears. She was crying, crying from laughter. Of all the things. It took her a minute to even be able to really see Eric again, and to have him not be a blurry blob. He was looking up by then, having not moved from where he was on the ground, and very slowly a smile started to tug at his lips while Sparrow laughed. It took him a moment but then he was once more climbing onto his feet and picking up some snow to throw but it wasn't thrown as hard and not directly aimed. She noticed the shift the moment it hit her knee, it didn't make her fall, but stumble back in an attempt to regain her footing.

Her laughter died with the sound of cracking beneath her feet.

She froze, too scared to look down and see where she was standing but she knew. She knew exactly what she stood on. She looked down where the snow had melted away at her feet, and where she was standing on thin ice.

She barely had time to scream as she was submerged in the icy depths below her, screaming as icy water filled her lungs, as her vision became hues of blues and purples as she fought to swim. She couldn't find where she came from, couldn't do anything as the blues and purples went dark, and the world went silent around her.

-

A|N couldn't have done it without you RxseSxciety :)