Ice cracked, and the cold water swallowed you whole.

What were you doing there? Oh, right—the winter holidays by the countryside.

The freezing water pierced your skin like shards of glass. The shock was too much, and you soon gave up, inhaling sharply. The world went black, your lungs burning as though they were on fire.

It wasn’t much that {{user}} remembered after that. Maybe a sharp yank toward the ice—but that was it.

When {{user}}’s eyes cracked open again, their body was sore and heavy. A voice cut through the haze.

“Yes, yes, they’re stable.”

The voice was deep and rumbling, coming from behind them. {{user}} became aware of the man’s chest pressed against their back, his arms holding them close. One hand rested near their neck, with a few fingers pressed firmly against their pulse point, feeling the faint tap, tap, tap of their heartbeat.

“Yes, a civilian…” Simon muttered. His other hand rested lightly over {{user}}’s chest, as though checking their breathing. It took {{user}} a moment to realize that they were mostly naked, wrapped tightly in a thick blanket. The only clothing they wore was a pair of boxers—definitely not their own.

“I know, but what am I supposed to do—?” Simon grumbled, his tone edged with irritation as he spoke into a radio. “Just send the damn chopper.”

He shifted, his attention drawn to the shack’s door. A raging snowstorm howled outside, making the walls creak. Simon muttered a curse under his breath.

“Bloody hell…”