As the screen went black, Eli backed away from the desk and tried to swallow the heartbeat still pounding in his throat. “So what’s next?”

Banneker was already replacing the blank monitors with his normal security feeds of the cabin. But his hands still shook, and he looked nearly as tense as Sherry did.

“If they’re not being chased, Grim will find a place to stop just outside the city,” he said, his voice uneven. “They’ll transfer the icefall to a case and give Ames the neutralizer.”

“The first dose of it, at least,” Sherry cut in, flipping back and forth between two pages in her notebook. “He’ll need…” She took a steadying breath and rubbed her forehead. “He’ll need at least three more, and Grim only has two in the car. I’ll have to…”

She swept out of the room before she could finish her thought, and Eli found himself untethered once more. He was facing six hours of—of what? Uncertainty, helplessness, wandering around the cabin until he lost his mind?

He flexed his fingers and fell back on his usual strategy- recount where his team was. Ambrose and Grim were in the car, Sherry was downstairs, and Banneker was right next to him.

He turned back to Banneker, who was fidgeting with the cord of his headset.

“Hey.” He placed a hand on his shoulder. “You did good.”

“I couldn’t get the doors open,” Banneker said quietly, not meeting his gaze. “I didn’t know about Pearce. I didn’t pack the drone—“

“You did as much as you possibly could, and that’s all they can ask for,” Eli said firmly. “I’m going to check on Sherry. You’ll tell us when Grim calls in?”

Banneker nodded and resumed typing, leaving Eli to find Sherry in the basement. He paused halfway down the stairs to watch her move about the lab, muttering to herself, sorting out vials, checking her notebook.

“Can I help?” he called. She didn’t look up from her work.

“Stupid blue-haired man, thinks he’s so damn smart…” she muttered. “I’ll need to store the icefall right when he needs another dose…”

Eli approached the lab. “Is there a way I can help with either of those?”

Sherry finally stopped puttering, and tapped her fingers on the metal table in front of her. “He was insistent that you—“

“Not help, I know.” Eli reached for the goggles and gloves by the door. “But stupid blue man isn’t here to argue about it, is he?”

Sherry sighed and pushed several vials his way as he stepped into the lab. “He’ll kill me if I make you handle the icefall by yourself, so I’ll teach you how to administer the neutralizer. If you’ll take those vials there…”

#

Thirty minutes swept by quickly in the lab. Eli was helping Sherry organize her equipment—though helping was a generous word, for he was a slow, clumsy substitute for her usual science partner—and was busy stacking empty cases when Banneker came thundering down the steps.

“They’re alright!” he breathed, panting at the base of the steps. “Grim called, they’re okay.”

Sherry snapped off her gloves, rushed out of the lab, and reached for the phone in Banneker’s hand.

“How is he?” she demanded. Her deep, relieved exhale told Eli what he needed to know, despite Grim’s voice being too muffled against her ear. “And the icefall’s out of the vest?”

Eli removed his own gloves and followed Sherry to the stairs in time to hear a snippet of Grim’s response.

“…lucky the shots didn’t get him. Giving him a second dose in three hours.”

“Can you put him on the phone?”

“Asleep,” they grunted. “Barely got the last of the icefall off him before he went down.”

Sherry began to pace with the phone, leading the conversation away from the others in the room. After a few more questions, she nodded and gave another sigh. “Alright. Drive safe.” She handed the phone back to Banneker, who tore back up the stairs with it, then looked at Eli. “You should get some sleep. They’ll be at least another five hours.”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to sleep while they’re driving back?”

They both stared at each other for a moment, until Sherry pursed her lips and turned towards the stairs. “Coffee it is, then.”

#

Despite the pot of coffee and the anxiety gnawing at his mind, Eli fell asleep on the couch as they waited for the sound of crunching gravel on the driveway. He woke to Sherry shaking his shoulder, wearing a jacket over her flannel to ward against the nighttime chill in the living room.

“They’re almost here,” she murmured, then retreated back to the foyer. As Eli rubbed his eyes and followed her, he caught a glimpse of what must be a normal post-mission routine. Sherry standing stiffly at the front door, her hand hovering near the five locks. Banneker impatiently rolling his chair up and down the hallway upstairs, his own form of pacing. Eli could almost feel where Grim would be if they weren’t driving the car- standing next to Sherry, arms folded, gaze locked on the window.

Somehow, it didn’t feel right taking Grim’s spot, so he found a place of his own to haunt, sitting at the base of the steps and fiddling with one of his earrings. In the absence of his agency badge, the simple black stud was all he had to fidget with as his ears strained for the sound of a car engine.

“Here!” Banneker suddenly called from upstairs. Ten seconds later, headlights flashed across the window.

“Neutralizer’s in his room, on the nightstand,” Sherry said quickly, turning the locks as she spoke. “I’ll confirm he’s stable, then help Grim with the icefall. You’ll need to administer the dose in the next fifteen minutes.”

She yanked open the door and rushed to the car as it came to a halt. Between her and Grim’s hurried back and forth, Eli barely got a glimpse of Ambrose until they had half-dragged him into the foyer, pale and limp.

“Didn’t have to use the defib,” Grim was muttering. “I’ll get him upstairs—“

“I’ve got him.” Eli swung over to Ambrose’s side and looped his arm over his shoulders, letting Sherry duck away. “You rest, I’ll take him up.”

To his surprise, Grim didn’t fight him on it. They let Eli take on Ambrose’s full weight, then stepped back and passed a hand over their face. Eli quickly lifted Ambrose and carried him up the steps, leaving Grim to a small, well-deserved moment of peace in the foyer.

“How you feeling, Ames?” Eli asked, trying to assess Ambrose’s state as he staggered onto the second floor. Sweat matted down the front of his hair, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

“You were…” he mumbled through ghost-white lips. “Why are you…”

“What, you thought you were going to hide all your missions from me?” Eli managed half a grin. “I thought you were a clever man, Ambrose.”

Ambrose didn’t smile back. With great effort, he reached up and tugged on Eli’s sleeve.

“Was going to tell you about…about Pearce after.”

Eli pushed the bedroom door open with his shoulder. “Take a couple steps away from death’s door and then we can talk about Pearce, yeah?”

Ambrose’s room hardly looked different from his. Another quilted bed, simple dresser, narrow space. Narrower than Eli’s, in fact—perhaps the smallest room in the cabin.

He carefully laid Ambrose down on the bed, sat next to him, and grabbed the vial from the nightstand. The liquid was far thicker than what Eli had seen him drink before, indicative of a much stronger dose. “Okay, Sherry says you’ll have to drink this in one go, and make sure to sit up for a few minutes after you take it.”

“No.” Ambrose put all his energy into rolling away from Eli. He didn’t make it far. “No, please…”

“What, you want the icefall to re-surge and stop your heart?”

Ambrose fell still. “No.”

Eli felt a pang as he pulled on Ambrose’s shoulder to roll him back over. “I get it. She told me it would hurt.”

Ambrose’s breath hitched as he looked at the vial. Eli swallowed, recalling what he had once said about learning to block the pain out. “But I’ll be right here, okay? You can hold my hand, if you want. Or punch me in the face, if that helps. I owe you that, anyway.”

Ambrose gave a choked laugh, even as his eyes shone. Eli held out the vial. “I know you can take it.”

Ambrose nodded, took the vial with a shaky hand, and drank it in one gulp. He immediately gave an involuntary shudder and pitched to the side, doubled over with his arms clutched around his ribs.

“No, no, you gotta sit up. Here.” Before Eli thought about what he was doing, he took the bottle from Ambrose’s grip, dragged his body towards him, and set him up to lean against his chest. “You can do this, just keep breathing.”

His own words vibrated a little as Ambrose began to shiver violently against him.

“It’s so—so cold…”

Just what Sherry had described to him in the lab. Like shards of ice freezing in his veins. Eli dragged over the quilt and wrapped it around Ambrose, knowing it would do nothing and hoping he was wrong.

“You keep breathing, and I’ll make you ten hot cocoas after this.” He tightened his grip around Ambrose’s shoulders. “Sorry, Sherry said no coffee.”

Another hiccup of a laugh, this one muffled into Eli’s flannel.

Ambrose kept shivering for what felt like an hour, though the clock on the nightstand claimed only a few minutes had passed. Once that had subsided, Ambrose’s full weight settled into Eli’s chest as he went limp, his head leaning on his shoulder. He was so close that Eli could feel his faint heartbeat through his shirt.

“You still with me?” Eli mumbled. Despite the fact that he was sweating under the heavy quilt, he didn’t want to leave him just yet. “How’s the pain?”

“Passed,” Ambrose whispered. Though all the energy seemed to have drained out of his body, a bit of color had returned to his cheeks. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to stay for that.”

The idea of letting Ambrose lie there alone after taking the vial made Eli’s heart crack.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He peeled off the quilt and helped Ambrose settle back onto the pillow. “I’ll get you some water, then you should sleep.”

As he made to stand, Ambrose again tugged at his sleeve with a half-hearted grasp. “I should explain about Pearce—“

“Ames, you should rest first.”

“Won’t be able to.”

Eli reluctantly sat back down on the edge of the bed. Ambrose’s hand fell onto the sheet next to him, and he took a few deep breaths before starting.

“Pearce joined an oversight board as we were starting trials,” he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Helped declare icefall illegal, then stole half my team for his own work.”

Bile rose in Eli’s stomach. “He didn’t steal you?”

“No. Was too…uncooperative, in his words.” Ambrose let his head sink into the pillow. “I then proceeded to be uncooperative for the next seven years.”

Eli suppressed a shiver as he recalled Pearce’s hard stare at the security camera. “So him trying to capture you…will he force you to join his team?”

Ambrose shook his head. “It’s shoot on sight, I’m afraid.”

Eli paused. “For him or for you?”

A twisted, humorless smile lifted the corner of Ambrose’s mouth. “Both.”