The Snowstorm

Disclaimer:  I do not own either of the Mission: Impossible series or any of the characters therein.  I receive no compensation or any other tangible benefit from this story.  I am just a fan who enjoys taking the team out for an adventure every now and then.  🙂

Summary:  Nicholas and Max get caught in a freak snowstorm.  This story may ultimately become part of a bigger mission story that hasn't been written yet. 

*****

"Well, what do you know?  It's snowing," said Nicholas with a smile, as he walked to the passenger side of the black sedan.

"So it is.". Max paused at the driver's door for a moment, returning his teammate's smile before glancing anxiously at the clouds above them.  "Do you think it's going to get rough?"

Nicholas shrugged as he slid into the seat beside Max.  "I've heard the weather here can be unpredictable.  But so far it's only a few flurries, and the forecast isn't really calling for anything.  We should have plenty of time to get to Jansen's compound and back.  Just be careful."

Max nodded as he put the car in gear and headed south.  The two men made small talk as they traveled toward their destination, approximately fifteen miles away.

About halfway there, the road inclined sharply upward.  Max gripped the wheel a bit tighter.

"We're going up a mountain," he observed anxiously, having been taken by surprise by the unfamiliar terrain.

"And the snow's getting worse," Nicholas said tensely.  The lazy flurries from moments earlier were now falling harder and faster.  The dark-haired agent squinted as he peered out the windshield; visibility was now nearly zero, and the highway had quickly become covered in snow.  "Maybe we should turn around," he suggested.

"There's really no place to turn around," Max answered.  It was true.  The road was narrow and winding, and there were no houses or driveways nearby.  "We just have to take it slow."

Nicholas' lips were drawn into a tight line, and he said nothing more, instead allowing his friend to concentrate on his driving.  Then, without warning, a sudden gust of wind blew from the east.  Before Max could react, the right front wheel hit a large patch of ice and the car slid sharply to the right.

Max felt the wheels drop off the embankment, and instantly realized they were going to crash.  "Hang on!" he screamed, while simultaneously pressing the brake pedal to the floor.

Nicholas reacted with lightning speed, bracing himself as best he could for the impact, as he yelled out his friend's name.  The car rolled to the right and overturned once, twice, until it finally came to rest on its wheels with a thud.

*******

Slowly, Max became aware of a voice calling his name, but at first he couldn't tell from where it was coming.  As the cobwebs gradually cleared, he realized that the voice was Grant's, and it was coming from his jacket pocket.

His brain still felt foggy as he reached into his pocket and took out his communicator.

"Max!  Nicholas!  Can you hear me?" Grant's voice was pleading.

"Grant."

"Max!  Thank God!  What's happened?  We've been calling you guys for twenty minutes!"

It took a moment for Max to process the question.  Gingerly - for his head was throbbing - he surveyed his surroundings.  He was sitting upright in the driver's seat of the team's black sedan, still buckled in, peering out a heavily cracked windshield at nothing but white.

The snow.  They had wrecked the car.

Nicholas!  he remembered, turning his head towards the passenger seat, and immediately regretting how quickly he'd done so as his stomach churned violently and he forcibly swallowed the bile that had risen up in his throat.  He knew that he had a concussion, but he couldn't think about that now.

Nicholas was lying against the passenger door, also still buckled in - thank God for seatbelts!   But he was unconscious and blood was pooled up and congealed on his right temple.  Anxiously, Max reached over to check.  Nicholas was alive, but his skin was cold to the touch.  The passenger side window was broken completely out, and the snow-sleet mixture was still falling heavily right down on top of him.

"Max!  Are you all right?  Answer me, dammit!"

Shit.  He'd forgotten about Grant, though he was still holding his communicator in his left hand.  He pushed the button.

"We crashed," he said simply.  "Hit a patch of ice and slid over the mountain."

"Oh, my God," Grant gasped, gazing up at Jim who was listening intently.  "How bad?"

Max unbuckled his seatbelt and took a moment to test all of his extremities to make sure they were functional.  "Bruised up, but everything seems to work okay." He winced as a sharp pain shot through his forehead.  "Head hurts."

"Concussion, probably.  Don't go to sleep," Grant warned.  "How's Nicholas?"

Max cast a worried gaze at his teammate.  "Still alive," he said, his voice low.  "That's all I know, right now.". Max sighed heavily.  "Any chance of getting us out of here?"

"Not for a while, I'm afraid," Grant said ruefully.  "That storm came up out of nowhere, and it's still coming down.  Everything's at a standstill right now.  The roads are impassible."

"Great," groaned Max.

"Just stay inside the car and try to stay warm," Grant cautioned.

Max reached over and tried turning the key in the ignition.  Nothing happened.

"Yeah, good luck with that," he told Grant.  "Car's dead, and the right side window broke out in the crash."

Grant and Jim exchanged another nervous glance, both of them worried that Max and Nicholas would freeze to death before they were able to be rescued.

Just then Max heard a faint moan, and Nicholas began to stir slightly.

"Guys, Nicholas is waking up."

"Take care of him," urged Grant.  "I'll check in with you every ten minutes, okay?"

"Right." Then Max broke off the communication and turned his attention to his injured friend.

As the dark-haired agent's eyes fluttered slowly, Max started to lay a hand on Nicholas' cheek, then thought better of it; Nicholas' skin was so cold already, and Max's ungloved hand wasn't much warmer.  Instead, he gripped Nicholas' shoulder gently.

"Hey, buddy," he said softly.

Nicholas' brown eyes met his, and Max' stomach lurched.  There was little sign of the vibrance that normally shone back at him.  "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"What...happened?" Nicholas asked through chattering teeth, his words slurred and difficult to understand.

"We crashed the car in the snow," Max responded. 

Nicholas closed his eyes again without answering Max's question, prompting the blond to shake his shoulder firmly.

"Stay with me, pal," he ordered, his concern mounting as he recognized the onset of hypothermia.  The dark eyes opened back and settled on Max, and the hint of recognition in them caused his partner to smile slightly.  "That's it," he encouraged.  "Does anything hurt?"

"I don't....know," Nicholas answered haltingly.  "It's all.... numb."

Max tilted his head.  "That open window isn't helping," he muttered.  "I've got to get you away from it.".

He reached down into the seat near his buddy's left hip, fumbled for the seat belt buckle, and snapped it loose, his painfully cold fingers causing some difficulty.  "There we go," he smiled, silently giving thanks that the car had a bench seat.

Max reached around behind him to pop open the driver's door.  He was mindful of Grant's warning to stay inside the car, and he knew that opening the door would let out even more valuable heat.  But Max had a plan.

"Come on, Nicholas," he cajoled.  "Scoot this way."

Max couldn't tell if Nicholas was trying to help him, but if he had been he wasn't able to do so.  Sighing heavily, Max stuck one arm behind his friend's back and wrapped it around his shoulders; the other arm under his knees.  Painstakingly, he slid Nicholas over into the driver's seat as he backed out the other side, then made sure his friend's body was clear and slowly closed the left side door again.

Max whipped his knife out of his jeans pocket, opened the left rear door, climbed in, and quickly closed it behind him.  Giving thanks once again that the car had cloth seats, Max hastily cut through the seams where the cloth was stitched together until he ripped off two large pieces of material.  His frostbitten fingers were red and tingled painfully as he worked, but he knew he could not stop. 

Just as he cut through the last seam  and freed the second piece of cloth, he heard a familiar voice.

"Max, do you read me?"

Max fished for his communicator.

"We're here, Jim."

"How's it going?" Jim's voice was tense.

"Nicholas is hypothermic," Max answered in the same tone.  "He's barely responding to me.  I'm doing all I can to keep him warm but we're losing time."  Max's breathing was heavy.  "We weren't prepared for this," he chided, to no one in particular.  "No blankets, no warm drinks.  Not even gloves."

"Well, the snow is slacking up some," Jim said hopefully.  "Before long, they'll be out scraping the roads.  Any chance you could flag someone down?"

Max shook his head, though Jim could not see him.  "We're at least fifty feet over the side of the mountain," he gasped.  "I'd never make it back up to the highway."

"Don't worry, Max," Jim said, trying to be reassuring but failing somewhat.  "We'll find you."

"I guess the mission's blown now, Jim," Max apologized.

"It doesn't matter, Max," Jim said emphatically.  "Just take care of yourself, and Nicholas.  We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Right," Max acknowledged.  Then he broke off communication with his team leader and folded his long legs into the front passenger seat where Nicholas had been moments earlier.  He cast a wary glance at his companion, who was unconscious again.

Hopefully before it's too late, he added to himself.

Max took the smaller piece of fabric and draped it over the gaping hole where the passenger side window had once been, catching it in the door to anchor it at the top, and using his blade to tuck it in as best he could at the bottom.  At least it would keep off the wind and the fine sleet that was still falling, he thought.

Then he gripped the larger piece of fabric and turned his attention to his teammate.

Nicholas' skin had paled further.  His breathing was slow and shallow, and his pulse was weak.  Max knew they were quickly running out of time.

"Nicholas."

At first, Max didn't receive a response, nor did he really expect one.  He unzipped Nicholas' black jacket enough to stick his hand inside.  As he suspected, the moisture from the falling sleet had soaked through both the dark-haired man's jacket and dress shirt.  The clothing was cold and stiff, almost frozen, as was Nicholas' right shoulder underneath it.

Max sighed heavily as he finished unzipping the jacket and unbuttoning the shirt.  Then, as gently as he could, Max started to remove Nicholas' shoulder from the sleeves.  The movement roused his teammate slightly, and he opened his eyes gingerly.

"Hey, partner," Max smiled, though worry was evident on his face.  "I'm getting these wet clothes off you.  Wanna help me out?"

Nicholas weakly returned Max's smile, and Max helped him lean forward slightly while he finished the task.  But Max didn't want to remove the frigid clothing completely; it was still capable of providing warmth in the dry places.  Instead, he wrapped Nicholas' much-colder right side with the large piece of fabric from the cloth seat.  Then he pulled the colder clothing back into place, as snugly as he could without an arm in the sleeve.

Max's own jacket was cold and wet on the outside from his exposure to the weather.  He left it on but unzipped it, then he wrapped his arms around Nicholas and drew him close, sharing the warmth of his body with his friend.

Nicholas tilted his head upward, his brown eyes heavy as they gazed at his blond companion.

"You're...shivering."

Max nodded, grimly aware that the hypothermia was beginning to take hold of him, too.  Grimly aware that the concussion and the fact that he'd been in and out of the car would likely speed the process along.

"We're going to...die here...aren't we?"

It was the longest sentence Nicholas had been able to string together since the accident, and the sadness and resignation in his voice hit Max in the pit of his stomach.

"Not if I can help it, partner," Max vowed bravely, though his voice trembled as he spoke.

Nicholas smiled weakly.  "Thank you...for trying.". Then his voice trailed off, and his body, no longer trembling, grew heavy in Max's arms.

Fear gripped Max's heart.  Quickly he checked for signs of life.  Nicholas was barely breathing now, and his pulse nearly imperceptible.  Max knew he was moments from death.

Suddenly, an urgent voice came across his communicator.  "Max, if you can hear me, help is on its way," barked Grant.  "Just hang on."

Max knew he needed to stay awake.  For his team.  His partner.  Himself.  But damn it!  He was so sleepy.  Desperately, he tried, but eventually the fogginess in his brain became too much to overcome.

*******

His first sensation was of lying on his back, and something heavy and warm was draped across his entire body.  It felt so good.

He hadn't yet opened his eyes, so he wasn't sure where he was; all he knew was that he was not in that cold car anymore.  Was this a hospital?  Was it heaven?  Right now, it didn't really matter.

He blinked once, twice, and the jumbled sound of voices reached his ears.  He felt a warm hand come to rest lightly on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Max."

He recognized the voice as Grant's, but was initially reluctant to open his eyes - afraid this was a dream, and if he woke up he'd be back on that mountain.  But finally, curiosity got the better of him.

He opened his eyes, then closed them again as the brightness attacked them.  Someone had the compassion to click off an overhead light, and the next time he opened them he saw Grant's soft brown ones gazing back at him.

"Hey, partner," he said softly.

Yes, this was definitely a hospital.  Max could smell the stench of antiseptic, feel the vague sensation of something taped to his arm and lying across his face just above his upper lip.  So he'd survived, then, somehow. 

But what about....

"Nicholas?" he cried out, as he sat bolt upright in bed and looked toward his right.  The sight of the empty bed beside him frightened him, and combined with the sudden movement it caused all color to drain from Max's face.

"Take it easy, Max." For the first time, the blond became aware of Jim's calming presence sitting at his left.  Jim laid a hand on his teammate's shoulder and eased him back down onto the bed.  "Nicholas is in ICU, but his condition is stable.  Shannon's with him."

"So he's alive?"

"Thanks to you," Grant smiled fondly.  Then his smile faded slightly.  "How are you feeling?"

After a moment, Max's heartbeat settled and his color returned.  "Not bad," he answered honestly.  "My head's still a little fuzzy."  He winked at Grant.  "Nothing new, huh?" he quipped, relaxing slightly at the knowledge that his friend had also survived their ordeal.

"You have a mild concussion, and you were both unconscious and hypothermic when you were found," offered Jim, "though you not as severely as Nicholas."

"How did you find us?" Max asked curiously.

"I made some adjustments to one of our gadgets," Grant replied, "and I was able to pinpoint your location based on the frequency of your communicator."

"We knew that emergency vehicles were all they were letting through," Jim continued.  "So we called fire and rescue and let them know where to find you.  You were so far down the mountain that the fire crew actually had to rappel down to get to you."  Jim cast an appreciative glance at Grant.  "They told us that without Grant's exact coordinates, they'd have never found you two."

Max extended his right hand towards Grant, grasping it in a warm shake.    "Thanks, man," he smiled.

Grant returned his smile.  "Your hands finally warmed up," he advised Max.  "You'll be out of here in no time."

Suddenly, Max's expression sobered.  "I want to see Nicholas."

"Not just yet, Max," Jim soothed, once again laying a gently restraining hand on the blond's shoulder.  "He's still sedated, and they're still working with him."

"They're having to do some additional procedures to keep him stabilized," Grant added gravely.  "The doctors said it could be a few days before he's able to communicate with us."

"But they think he'll pull through?" Max asked fearfully.

"He has a fighting chance," Jim answered guardedly, "and you to thank for it."

*******

A half hour later, visiting hours in the ICU ended, and Shannon returned to Max's room.  She was overjoyed to see that he was awake and doing well.  She also had good news to report about Nicholas; they were still doing procedures, but the slow process of raising his body temperature was going well.  In a couple of days, she said, the doctors should be able to start removing the sedative.

After staying for observation overnight and encountering no complications, Max was given a clean bill of health the next morning and released from the hospital to join his teammates.  For the first two days, he worked with Grant and Jim to finish the mission that he had started with Nicholas, while Shannon kept vigil at their ailing friend's bedside.  By the time the task was complete, Nicholas' doctors had pronounced him stable enough to be moved out into a private room to continue his recovery.

It was early the next afternoon when the four friends were startled by a sudden loud cry.

"Max!"

Shannon reached his bedside first.  "Shhhh, take it easy, Nicholas," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "You're safe now.  Everything's okay."

Nicholas' eyes were wide with fear.  "We crashed...."

"I know.  But you're in a hospital," she soothed, maintaining her grip on his hand while reaching up to stroke his hair with the other.  "You're going to be just fine."

She watched him relax, just slightly, as the others drew closer.  "Where's Max?"

"Right here, buddy," the blond answered, as he approached Nicholas' other side and laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

Nicholas turned his head slightly to gaze at his friend, then his features relaxed into a pleasant smile.  "Thank goodness you're okay."

"Yeah," Grant chuckled, as he thumped Max's back affectionately, "which is more than I can say for the Lexus.  Bet you'll think twice before getting in a car with this guy again, eh, pal?"

Jim and Shannon chuckled along with their colleague.  Max's grin faltered somewhat before he finally joined in. Nicholas only smiled slightly, but no one seemed to notice.

"So, I know the car crashed," he mused, "but I don't feel like anything's broken.  So what am I doing here?"

His four friends grew serious again.  "You really don't remember?" Shannon asked.

Nicholas shook his head.  "Last thing I remember is going over the side of a mountain," he recalled.  "Then I woke up here."

Max pulled up a stool, and everyone listened intently as he told them what had happened in the car while he and Nicholas waited to be rescued.  Once he had explained all he could remember, Grant took up the story.  When he was finished, Nicholas took a moment to let things sink in before he finally spoke.

"I owe you guys my life," he said quietly.  "How can I ever thank you?"

"Your being here is all the thanks we need," smiled Jim, who'd been relatively quiet all afternoon.

The team made small talk into the evening, just enjoying each other's company.  As night began to fall, Nicholas tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.  Jim noticed it, and stood up.

"I guess we'd better go," he advised.  "Visiting hours will be over soon."

"You don't have to leave," said Nicholas in protest.

Jim patted his shoulder fondly.  "You need to rest," he ordered gently.  "We can talk tomorrow."

Nicholas nodded reluctantly, as one by one his four companions bid him goodbye and started out, with Max lagging behind.

Suddenly, impulsively, Nicholas called out to him.

"Max."

All four team members turned around at the sound of Nicholas' voice, mild concern on each of their faces.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Max paused briefly, then nodded.  "I'll be down in a little bit," he reassured the others.  And with that, they took their leave, and Max walked back to his friend's bedside, the same concern still evident in his eyes.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," Nicholas countered, in the same tone.

"I'm fine, Nicholas.  Why?"

"What Grant said earlier, about me not riding with you anymore..."

"I knew he was joking," Max said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I saw your face, Max," Nicholas said softly.

Well, your perceptiveness is still intact, Max thought to himself, but said nothing, as Nicholas continued to speak.

"Look, what happened to us was an accident, pure and simple.  There's no way you could have prevented it.  All you could have done is exactly what you did."   Nicholas' soft brown eyes met Max's blue ones, and his voice was earnest.  "You took care of me when I needed you most."

Max shrugged.  "I couldn't do much."

"You saved my life, Max," Nicholas reminded him.  "What you did for me may not have seemed like much, but I know that if you hadn't, I wouldn't still be here.  I'll never forget that."

Nicholas reached out and laid a hand - which to Max's pleasant surprise had regained its warmth - on the blond's forearm. 

"I could never blame you for what happened, Max," he assured his friend.  "I trust you completely.  And regardless of whether we're on a mission or not, there's still no one I'd rather ride shotgun with."

"Thanks, partner," Max smiled, laying his hand on top of his friend's and giving it a squeeze.  "And you're welcome. ". He stood up.  "Now, get some rest, all right?  We'll be back in the morning."

Nicholas sighed heavily, his heart deeply content, and was asleep almost before Max closed the door behind him.

The End.

(c) 2018