*Wyl*

Time lost all meaning in the gray gloom of the warehouse. The cold was inseparable from every part of Wyl's body, no matter how much he heated the metal behind them with the torch. The heat bestowed by the flame soon turned dull, and was gone too quickly. Wyl trembled constantly, uncontrollably, as he fitted the last fuel cell to the torch. He sprayed the flame onto the groaning metal, burned by it as much as he was the insidious cold. The extremes were too much. The torch stuttered to a halt after a minute, and Wyl sank down to the floor in exhaustion, crawling back to Taylor.

The big man's breath appeared as shallow, icy clouds, and his lips were blue. Wyl had already given him his shirt, and if he took his pants off he'd get frostbitten fast. Bending over, he wrapped his aching frame around Taylor's head and chest, trying to impart what little warmth was left to him into his friend.

This was my fault. What would it have cost me? Just a few minutes on my knees and whatever's left of my pride. I should have done it. I should have. T wouldn't be dying. Hell, I wouldn't be dying. I could see Robbie again... An unexpected rush of pleasure accompanied the memory of Robbie, and Wyl felt warm for a brief moment.

The faint warmth afforded by the heated metal was fading faster now, plunging them back to unremitting cold. With a final little burst of energy, Wyl reached for the flashlight and turned it on. Without a signal no one would be able to find them. He would have laughed if he'd been able. Wyl Leyton, eternal optimist.

It was so, so cold...

Skin slowly crystallized to ice, and living membranes frosted over with death. Blood congealed in hardening veins. The laboring heart pumped, pumped, pumped wearily until at last the chill reached it as well, and with a final convulsive heave, it stopped. Lungs no longer blew air into the chill. For a moment, everything was perfect numbness.

Boots on the floor. Faint reverberations of thudding feet, drawing closer. Filmy eyes seeing something move in their final moments, cottony ears hearing the noise of another person. Movement. Then a blow. Another. Again. Hard, to the chest. Pain. Then lips, blessedly warm and familiar, resting on his own, breathing life into him. Wyl's straining heart lumbered back to life, and he sucked air in with a wheezing gasp.

Strong arms carried him out of the cold, into a room that was bright, and felt so warm it almost hurt. Then they left him, and Wyl would have cried out if he'd been able to. He strained to make his ears work to hear what was happening around him.

"There's blood, but it isn't his." Leesie's voice, frantic. "It must be Taylor's. She shot him, that bitch shot my husband—"

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"Let Robbie bring him out," said another female voice, deeper, soothing and calm.

"Are you sure she won't get free?"

"She's out cold, Marshal Paulsen. I'll restrain her when I get my hands on Robbie's cuffs, I used mine on that guy."

"Mike's her tool. I should have reported it earlier...Taylor!" The sound of rapid footsteps. "Is he alive? Is he breathing?"

"Barely, but yes." It was Robbie's voice, and Wyl's heart beat faster. "We need to get them both to the regen tank, where is it?"

"Bring them this way."

Wyl fought to open his eyes. His whole body was aching now, especially his hands and his chest. The pain was an afterthought. He had to make sure this was real. The platform he had been placed on rumbled to life and they began to move. They were headed to the infirmary. He'd never been there before.

Time passed, endless until he felt Robbie's hands on him again. He was lifted into his arms, held tightly for a long moment, and then placed down onto a soft, squishy surface. Liquid covered most of his body, relieving pain and energizing him. After a few minutes, he found he could open his eyes.

The first thing he saw was brightness, too much so, and he squinted against it. The next thing he saw was Robbie's face, leaning over him and blocking out some of the light. "Hey, baby." Robbie smiled faintly. "How do you feel?"

"Better now," Wyl whispered hoarsely. "What happened?"

"Your heart stopped. I got to you just in time." Robbie stroked Wyl's hair with one hand.

"What about T?"

"He's going to be fine. We stabilized him first. He's sleeping now, and his wife is with him."

"Good. I was worried."

"You think you were worried?" Robbie arched an eyebrow. "Marshal Paulsen was going nuts trying to figure out how to help you two. She sent us a message, but it took a while to arrive. In the meantime, there was nothing she could do. She has no combat mods and Danica has obviously been modified. She was shooting everything that moved."

What the hell? "What happened?"

"With Danica? It seems she stockpiled weapons all over the place, coded to work only at her touch. She's paranoid and delusional. She had calmed down enough to have a mechanic work on getting through the door when we arrived. Jane shot her."

"Who's Jane?"

"My second-in-command." Robbie kissed the back of one of Wyl's hands. "It was a mercy blast, so it only knocked her out. She took out our friend Mr. Ebner as well while I got the mechanic to finish on the door. I went in and I saw the light. I found you, and..." he shrugged. "Here we are now."

"What happens next?" It was a struggle to talk, but Wyl had to know.

"Next?" Robbie smiled briefly. "Another team is on its way from the station. They'll get things under control down here. You and the Paulsens are coming back up with Jane and me. You need some more medical attention. Danica and Mr. Ebner are coming as well, under lock and key, so they can answer some questions about their conduct and business practices once they're awake." His voice lowered slightly. "I'm bringing you home with me, and I'm going to make sure you never leave this time."

Wyl managed a smile. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby." Robbie leaned down and kissed him. His lips dimmed all of the pain and trauma of the last several hours out of Wyl's mind and body, leaving comfort behind. Robbie finally drew back, and Wyl sighed as they separated.

"I'm taking leave when we get back," Robbie murmured, his eyes staring into Wyl's possessively, "and once you're well, we'll do nothing but eat, sleep, and make love for days one end. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like a good beginning."