"A rabbit!" I squeal happily as I kneel to retrieve it from the trap. 

Jackson and I spent the morning fishing the pond together. After that I headed back first to check the traps while he gutted the fish near the pond. We didn't catch much, but enough for a small fish stew, and now, with the bunny, we'll be able to have lunch and dinner today.

"You get something, Sam?" Jackson comes by as I finish taking the catch off the wire.

"Dinner!" I declare cheerfully as I pop back up fast.

Too fast...

Little black dots fill my vision, and just as I'm about to fall, Jax lunges for me.

"Sam!"

"I'm okay," I say as I fall into his arms. Shit, that was close. I think I almost passed out for real this time!

"What do you mean this time?" Jax asks sharply—did I say that last part out loud?

"I didn't mean to..." I trail off. Didn't mean to what? Almost pass out or accidentally tell him it wasn't the first time. Either scenario he won't like, so instead, I say softly, "Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," he mutters, sounding pretty mad. He hoists me up so I'm curled against his chest, and I bring my arms around his neck to hold myself in place.

"I can walk," I say needlessly, knowing he isn't letting go, and he doesn't until we approach the clearing to the cabin. He then carefully sets me down, watching to make sure I am okay before he turns to open the big door. I follow him inside, and he takes my arm, leading me to the table.

"Sit."

"I'm okay, Jax. It was just a head rush," I assure him.

"It wasn't just a head rush! You were about to faint."

I turn and see him opening the cabinet and pulling things down.

"What are you doing? Why are you taking cans of soup out?"

"Because you're going to eat one." He looks at the back of a can of chicken noodles. "This isn't enough calories." He sets it down and picks up another. "This one is better."

"We have fish and a rabbit," I protest.

"And I'm going to make what's going to be a really weird stew with both of them, but you're not waiting that long to eat something."

"I can't! We have to save the soups," I argue. "It's not even quite December yet."

"You are starving, literally. You can't wait for us to get lucky out here, Sam." His tone has finally softened some, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

"I'm okay."

"Baby, no, you're not," he says, and before I can argue, he opens the can and sets it in our fire.  He chose split pea and ham, and it smells incredible, my mouth waters instantly. "I've been seeing how thin you're getting... been worried about it for a while."

"You're thin too. We're hungry. It's-"

"Don't say normal. Nothing about this is normal." He sets the open can in front of me. "Eat."

"I'm not eating this whole can by myself, Jax."

"I'll be fine with some stew when it's ready. I'm not the one who is almost passing out. What happens if I'm not standing right there next time? You could  fall and hit your head or something."

"I won't," I say, to which he casts me a doubtful look. "Okay, I can't promise I won't—but..."

"Please eat the soup, Sam," he begs.

I grab the spoon and take a bite; it's good, so good I could pick this thing up and drink it all down, but eating it while he isn't doesn't feel right.

"Can't you just have a few bites too?"

"I'll have plenty of stew."

"Jax—"

"I'm not starving. I'm hungry as fuck, but I'm not getting head rushes, and my stomach isn't all caved in like yours. This is serious, and I've been — " He closes his eyes, pinches up his nose in a pained expression, and then lets out a breath as he opens them again. "I didn't want you mad at me, so I have been coming home when I should've been staying out there. It was a dumb ass choice because getting us meat should be my only priority right now."

"But I'm so happy you're coming home earlier."

"And I want you happy!" He leans closer, his smoky eyes pleading with me to understand. "I don't want you mad at me or worried about me, but damn it, sweet Sam, I love you. I have to make sure you're okay."

"I love you too, so I don't want you out so late," I push and know it's as useless as telling him I could walk earlier. I see how set his mind is, but I have to try. "Jax. Please, we'll be fine."

"Just eat," he says gruffly, breaking eye contact as he stands up. He grabs the rabbit and starts cleaning it, his back to me, and his body tense.

I pick up the can and drink it down. The warm, thick soup instantly warms my belly; it doesn't fill it, but I can feel the nourishment in my body immediately.

Jax, meanwhile, is working fast and muttering under his breath about how he knew better.

"Stop blaming yourself for not getting us big game, it is not all on you," I tell him for the hundredth time, but he ignores me as he tosses the meat into the pot.

"We are going to be okay. The traps will start working better," I continue on as he brings the pot to the stove. "...and we can eat syrup for calories, remember? We still have a bunch of sap I can cook into water and sugar."

"Syrup, yes..." He turns and finally looks at me again. "Make it tonight... after you eat the stew. Until then, you need to rest. Okay? Promise you will?"

"I promise I'll take it easy today."

He looks relieved, but I'm not when I see him stepping into his boots.

"Where are you going? It'll be dark in a few hours!"

"Then I better hurry and get out there," he says as he grabs his rifle from the wall. 

"It's getting really cold and will get worse when the sun goes down," I protest. 

"I'll bundle up and bring one of your flashlights. I'll take some matches and kindling, too, just in case, but I'm going, Sam."

"Jackson, please, don't go," I beg.

"I have to."

"I'm fine! We have food for today and tonight. You can go tomorrow!"

"I love you too much to watch you starve, baby," he kneels in front of me. "That's not a fucking option— I won't lose you. I can't. Promise me you'll eat as much of that stew as possible until you're stuffed, and then you'll make some syrup, please?"

"I don't want you out there at night," I whisper as my eyes well up with tears.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going anyway. Please promise me you will stay here and eat," he lowers his voice, as his eyes become as teary as mine,

"I promise," I sniffle out the words. Every nerve in my body seems like it's on alert, and an anxious feeling settles in my gut. I hate this, but he's going to go no matter what I say.

"Eat as soon as it's ready. I'll be back when I can." He presses his lips to my forehead leaving a lingering kiss, I close my eyes and savor it.

Then, all too soon, he's gone, and the tears slip down my cheeks as the door shuts behind him.

***

Time seems to go by in slow motion as the day slowly runs into night. My eyes keep finding the door, the closed door. I need Jax to walk through it.

I did as he asked and ate two full bowls of stew and then made a good-sized batch of syrup, and had a little of that as well. I have not had a single head rush since earlier, and I feel much better after eating so much, less dizzy and weak. I know one day isn't the fix-all, but it's something anyway. 

Jax didn't even have lunch today. He's got to be so hungry and freezing, too. I slipped out to use the bathroom a little while ago, and it's definitely nearing zero. The outhouse door was frozen shut, and I had to wrench it to open.

Damn it! This is why I didn't tell him about the head rushes. It's growing darker... how far is he going to push this?

I know I promised him I'd stay but—

What if something happened? What if he fell and is hurt somewhere?

The wolves ...

"Don't think that!" I scream the words as if that'll turn my paranoid thoughts off.

It doesn't. They only grow worse and scarier the longer he's gone. All my pacing has probably burned off all the extra calories I ate today.

"That's it. I'm going after him," I say to the empty cabin.

I hurriedly slip on my boots and thick coat, making sure to bundle up well. I grab my gun and the first aid kit, just in case. My heartbeat accelerates as my worries increase, but it's making my body feel warm, which should help.

I hustle outside and am greeted by an arctic chill. I wrap a teeshirt over my face and shove my hat on, leaving no skin exposed. Frostbite can happen fast when it's this cold.

Jax has been out here for hours...

I don't waste time. I secure the door shut and hurry off to the trail. I have my gun ready, but as nervous as I am about the wolves, I'm more worried about Jax.

I can easily find his path as I get to the trail's end. When he takes the sled, it leaves a print in the snow that I can use as a path for myself. One good thing about all this snow is the moonlight reflects off it, making it seem lighter outside. I don't even need the flashlight yet, but keep it in my pocket.

I finally reach a spot where the sled sits empty. He must leave it here and find a tree or something to sit in. Footsteps are going in different directions from the sled into the deeper woods, so he may have tried a few spots tonight, which won't make this easy. Is he within hearing distance? 

"Jax!" I call out loudly. "Where are you?"

Nothing.

"Jax!" I yell again as I follow a set of steps to a tree and look up, but I don't see him.

I take my flashlight out and start shining it around as I continue to yell his name. My fear is rising to a fever pitch right now. I want to scream and cry and fall to my knees, begging him to come to me. But I can't panic, I have to find him.

"Jackson, please call back!" I scream as loud as possible, and I'm sure my voice will hurt tomorrow. Finally, I hear a faint "Sam?" from somewhere behind me.

I whirl around in a hurry, and then see him hunched down by a large rock. I run to him, falling in front of him when I reach him.

He's slumped over, his face looking ghastly pale, and his lips are blue! His eyes are barely even open, and look hazy as they meet mine.

"Am I dreaming about you again, you baby?"

Did he fall asleep out here? How did that happen? Why would he sit in the snow? His hat and sweater, which he wears as a scarf, sit next to him. Why would he take them off? I shove the hat on and hand him the sweater. 

"Tie this around your face," he doesn't seem to understand, so I do it for him. 

Shit, shit, shit, I am almost certain he has Hypothermia. I don't know much about it, but I know it can make you disoriented and mess with your decision-making. I've got to get him moving now. I need to get him out of the cold as fast as possible.

"Jax, come on, come with me." I tug at his arm, but he doesn't budge. 

I grab both his arms, getting a firm and tight grip on them.

"I'm going to pull you up, okay? I need you to try and stand up," I beg him, my voice becoming high-pitched as the panic sets in. "Please stand up for me."

"Not... few more minutes, I got to — food for you."

"The only thing I need right now is you. Please, Jackson." I tug as hard as I can, and finally, he stands up. He's wobbly and falls into me, nearly knocking us both over.

"We have to get home," I tell him as I steady him. 

"Sam- What's happening?"

"You fell asleep. We have to go, okay? Can you walk with me?" His eyes are starting to glaze over again.

"Stay with me, come on," I give both his cheeks a quick tap, not enough to hurt him but enough to get his attention. It works, as his eyes open and become more alert again. I take his arm and put it over my shoulder. He slumps into me, and I slip an arm around his back, holding him close as we stumble along.

"I'm tired."

"We just have to make it to the sled, and then you can lie down," I tell him.

When we reach the sled, he looks at it like he's never seen it, shaking his head slowly. 

"Jackson, lie down in the sled for me, okay?" I move some of the tools aside so there's room for him.

"In here?"

"Yes, just lie down, and I'll get us home."

"Have you seen my Mom?"

Oh no, his confusion is getting worse... I blink back tears. I need to keep him calm, so I go with it.

"We're going to go find her. Can you get in the sled first?"

"Mkay." He falls into the sled, his feet hanging off the side, which will make dragging it even more difficult.

I wish I'd brought blankets I could wrap him up in. I consider taking off my jacket so he has a second layer on, but I can't risk getting hypothermia as well. I just need to move and fast. I brace myself for his weight, grab the rope, and pull. It's not as heavy as I thought it would be, not much worse than when I had the deer in it.

This means he's lost too much weight, too; I frown at that. For all his bravado, he's likely just as bad off as I am. I continue tugging hard at the sled. It moves through the snow reasonably easily, which helps.

I'm scared as hell that a wolf will suddenly appear, and I have my gun locked and ready as I continue to drag Jax with all my might.

When I see the smoke from our chimney, it gives me a new wind, and I pull even harder, breathing heavily as I drag us into our clearing.

"Thank god! Jax, we're home."

He's passed out, and I have to tap his cheeks again to wake him up. He's mumbling and more disoriented than ever as I help him inside.

The warm air from the cabin immediately surrounds us, and I close the door quickly.

Jax stumbles over to the bed and then falls on it. I need to get him warm fast.

I start by removing his wet and cold winter gear. His clothes underneath are dry I'm hoping, that kept him in a milder state of this. His lips are still blueish, and his face is incredibly pale, except for his nose, which is really red. I hope he doesn't end up with frostbite, too.

I  recall that body-to-body heat is one of the best ways to warm someone up fast. Without wasting time, I strip all my clothes off except my panties.

I then work on undressing him, which isn't easy because he doesn't want to move, but eventually, I get him down to his boxers. I crawl into bed with him and then cover his body with my own by draping it over his. He feels so cold and stiff. You'd think he'd be shivering, and he's not.  I press the pad of my finger on the side of his neck until I find his pulse. It seems a little slower than it should be, but I can't be sure. His breaths seem normal, though.

Get him warm, I tell myself, that's all that matters right now.

I pull the blanket tightly around us, securing us inside it, and also start to run my hands and legs up and down the sides of his body, trying to create as much friction as I can.

Slowly but surely, his body warms and I am so relieved when his lips are no longer blue and the color starts to return to his face. I lean down and press a soft kiss on them.

I am so glad I went after him despite my promise. I can't help but think about what could've happened if I hadn't or if I had hesitated any longer. What if a wolf found him like that? Or what if he froze to death out there? 

He was close to exactly that, the thought of that will haunt me forever. 

When he wakes up, he'll be confused and probably upset with me for going after him, but that's too bad. This is exactly what I was worried about. If he weren't in the state he's in right now, I'd be angry, but as it is, I'm too relieved he's okay to be anything but grateful.

"You had me really scared, Smokey," I whisper.

"Sam," he mumbles in his sleep.

"I'm right here, just rest," I say soothingly as I run a hand through his damp hair. He lets out a tiny snore and then falls back to sleep. My cheeks are wet, and I realize I've been crying. I'm not even sure when I started.

"You can't do that to me ever again, you hear me?" I whisper to his sleeping form. "I can't lose you any more than you can lose me."