Frostbitten
Author: emocezi
Title: Frostbitten
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 988
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: So, it's currently -30 outside without windchill. That's in Canadian temperatures. In American temp, it's -22. Also, I felt like picking on Clay. :D
Pooch had to sit out in whatever vehicle he was using as the get away car for hours, unable to run the engine for fear someone would hear him and come to investigate.
Cougar had to lay out for hours in the elements, mostly observing and occasionally lining up a shot.
Jensen had a habit of forgetting things like eating and putting on an extra sweater when he was decoding information and breaking into secure areas online.
So out of the trio of men most likely to end up with frostbite, it was a surprise when Clay came stumbling into the safehouse. Skin ice cold to the touch, lips tinged blue. He'd stopped shivering half an hour ago, and even to his cold-muddled brain, he knew that was a bad thing.
They were in Northern Canada, during the cold snap that came each January and left the trees covered in hoar frost. Snow crunched loudly underfoot and everything outside was silent, just waiting for the weather to break. The temperatures measured -22 in Fahrenheit, the windchill factoring in to dip the already frigid temperatures down to a blistering -39 degrees.
Clay had been outside for thirty minutes, and in that time he'd managed to lose his hat, his scarf, and the zipper on his jacket. Which was why he was now standing in the tiny living room, staring blankly at nothing while Jensen and Pooch slowly pulled off his jacket and pushed him onto the faded, sagging couch.
“Do we have any spare blankets?” Pooch asked softly and Jensen looked over to where Cougar had wrapped himself in a sleeping bag and was guarding it jealously while cleaning his gun.
“Body heat works better.” Jensen said, getting to work taking off Clay's boots. He new from his own experiences that warming Clay up was going to be one of the most painfilled experiences of the Colonel's life. “A blanket traps the heat from your body and reflects it back. If you have no heat, the reflecting process doesn't work and you stay cold.”
“Dibs out being the body.” Pooch muttered and Jensen rolled his eyes, pulling off one of Clay's boots and then the other.
“Fine. Start boiling water. And go find Roque. Cougs, get over here, and bring your sleeping bag with you.” Jensen snapped, pulling off Clay's other boot and waving his hand in front of Clay's face. The Colonel's reactions weren't as fast as he would have liked, but his entire body was in the process of slowly shutting down.
XxX XxX
The last thing Clay remembered was tossing his gloves to the ground in an effort for better dexterity with his pistol. He must've come back to the house on auto-pilot, because the next thing he knew he was shivering violently, trapped in a three way hug with Roque behind him, Jensen in front of him, and Cougar practically sitting on his lap. They were all shirtless and wrapped in a sleeping bag that smelled like the gun oil Cougar favorited.
Everything hurt, and he barely managed to bite back a whimper. He'd heard people talk about recovering from frostbite, had seen Jensen with his feet in a bathtub, hunched over on himself and nearly biting through a towel to keep from screaming.
He'd assumed it would feel like his skin was on fire. Something manageable, like a bad sunburn. But this, this felt more like his entire body was being held in a vice that kept tightening. His muscles kept cramping up and his shivering felt more like a full body seizure.
“Wh-what the he-hell?” Clay managed, clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. Jensen rolled his eyes.
“You had the bright idea to wander around out there with your jacket open and no hat. You were hypothermic when you got into the house Clay.” Roque snapped and Clay felt his 2ic tighten his hold, pulling Clay's back firmly against his broad, muscular chest.
“Get off of m-me. I'm fine.”
“You're as weak as an hour old giraffe.” Jensen announced. “Did you know that giraffes, and most animals on the African plains can stand, walk and even run at seven hours old? That's fucking amazing when you think about it. A human baby at seven hours old can barely suckle on it's own. And these crazy little animal babies are running around. I mean, it's more of a survival instinct then anything, because there's shit out there that will try to eat babies while they're being expelled from the mothers birth canal. It's pretty gross to watch. But I guess that's the circle of life. I should watch The Lion King when I get back ho-”
“Shut up Jensen.” Roque growled
“Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities Roque.” Jensen sneered. “I didn't realize the miracle of life grossed you out so much. Though, when you think about something the size of a baby being pushed out of-” Cougar took that moment to preserve everyone's sanity and leaned over to cover Jensen's mouth with his own. Clay went very still and Roque made a little gagging noise.
“What? You think I didn't see you crawling into his bedroll last Tuesday?” Cougar asked, raising an eyebrow at Roque who sputtered. Clay started blushing, a good sign in Jensen's books as it meant his blood was warm enough to rise to the surface of his skin.
“Well, you seem like your feeling better now. I have to go check my computer. Bye.” Jensen abandoned ship, dragging Cougar with him and leaving Clay alone with Roque.
“Next time you're that close to death you'd better be gutshot.” Roque muttered and shifted his grip into something that resembled a hug. Clay huffed out a sigh, still shivering and miserable enough to not even consider moving right now. “I mean it Clay.”
Title: Frostbitten
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 988
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: So, it's currently -30 outside without windchill. That's in Canadian temperatures. In American temp, it's -22. Also, I felt like picking on Clay. :D
Pooch had to sit out in whatever vehicle he was using as the get away car for hours, unable to run the engine for fear someone would hear him and come to investigate.
Cougar had to lay out for hours in the elements, mostly observing and occasionally lining up a shot.
Jensen had a habit of forgetting things like eating and putting on an extra sweater when he was decoding information and breaking into secure areas online.
So out of the trio of men most likely to end up with frostbite, it was a surprise when Clay came stumbling into the safehouse. Skin ice cold to the touch, lips tinged blue. He'd stopped shivering half an hour ago, and even to his cold-muddled brain, he knew that was a bad thing.
They were in Northern Canada, during the cold snap that came each January and left the trees covered in hoar frost. Snow crunched loudly underfoot and everything outside was silent, just waiting for the weather to break. The temperatures measured -22 in Fahrenheit, the windchill factoring in to dip the already frigid temperatures down to a blistering -39 degrees.
Clay had been outside for thirty minutes, and in that time he'd managed to lose his hat, his scarf, and the zipper on his jacket. Which was why he was now standing in the tiny living room, staring blankly at nothing while Jensen and Pooch slowly pulled off his jacket and pushed him onto the faded, sagging couch.
“Do we have any spare blankets?” Pooch asked softly and Jensen looked over to where Cougar had wrapped himself in a sleeping bag and was guarding it jealously while cleaning his gun.
“Body heat works better.” Jensen said, getting to work taking off Clay's boots. He new from his own experiences that warming Clay up was going to be one of the most painfilled experiences of the Colonel's life. “A blanket traps the heat from your body and reflects it back. If you have no heat, the reflecting process doesn't work and you stay cold.”
“Dibs out being the body.” Pooch muttered and Jensen rolled his eyes, pulling off one of Clay's boots and then the other.
“Fine. Start boiling water. And go find Roque. Cougs, get over here, and bring your sleeping bag with you.” Jensen snapped, pulling off Clay's other boot and waving his hand in front of Clay's face. The Colonel's reactions weren't as fast as he would have liked, but his entire body was in the process of slowly shutting down.
XxX XxX
The last thing Clay remembered was tossing his gloves to the ground in an effort for better dexterity with his pistol. He must've come back to the house on auto-pilot, because the next thing he knew he was shivering violently, trapped in a three way hug with Roque behind him, Jensen in front of him, and Cougar practically sitting on his lap. They were all shirtless and wrapped in a sleeping bag that smelled like the gun oil Cougar favorited.
Everything hurt, and he barely managed to bite back a whimper. He'd heard people talk about recovering from frostbite, had seen Jensen with his feet in a bathtub, hunched over on himself and nearly biting through a towel to keep from screaming.
He'd assumed it would feel like his skin was on fire. Something manageable, like a bad sunburn. But this, this felt more like his entire body was being held in a vice that kept tightening. His muscles kept cramping up and his shivering felt more like a full body seizure.
“Wh-what the he-hell?” Clay managed, clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. Jensen rolled his eyes.
“You had the bright idea to wander around out there with your jacket open and no hat. You were hypothermic when you got into the house Clay.” Roque snapped and Clay felt his 2ic tighten his hold, pulling Clay's back firmly against his broad, muscular chest.
“Get off of m-me. I'm fine.”
“You're as weak as an hour old giraffe.” Jensen announced. “Did you know that giraffes, and most animals on the African plains can stand, walk and even run at seven hours old? That's fucking amazing when you think about it. A human baby at seven hours old can barely suckle on it's own. And these crazy little animal babies are running around. I mean, it's more of a survival instinct then anything, because there's shit out there that will try to eat babies while they're being expelled from the mothers birth canal. It's pretty gross to watch. But I guess that's the circle of life. I should watch The Lion King when I get back ho-”
“Shut up Jensen.” Roque growled
“Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities Roque.” Jensen sneered. “I didn't realize the miracle of life grossed you out so much. Though, when you think about something the size of a baby being pushed out of-” Cougar took that moment to preserve everyone's sanity and leaned over to cover Jensen's mouth with his own. Clay went very still and Roque made a little gagging noise.
“What? You think I didn't see you crawling into his bedroll last Tuesday?” Cougar asked, raising an eyebrow at Roque who sputtered. Clay started blushing, a good sign in Jensen's books as it meant his blood was warm enough to rise to the surface of his skin.
“Well, you seem like your feeling better now. I have to go check my computer. Bye.” Jensen abandoned ship, dragging Cougar with him and leaving Clay alone with Roque.
“Next time you're that close to death you'd better be gutshot.” Roque muttered and shifted his grip into something that resembled a hug. Clay huffed out a sigh, still shivering and miserable enough to not even consider moving right now. “I mean it Clay.”