AS THEY REACHED THE BOTTOM OF THE SLOPE, Finn, Helena, and Sawyer were waiting. Their faces were a canvas of concern, the lines of worry etched deeply on their features, each one a silent testament to the fear tightening within them.

Sawyer, though not the eldest, had long taken on the role of protector, the mothering presence of their group. Her usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be found; instead, her hands were clenched, her breath shallow. Her heart raced as she prepared herself for the worst, her mind already running through every possible scenario as she watched them approach from below the hill.

The sight of Ruka in Joshua's arms, pale and clearly in pain, was enough to send a cold spike through Sawyer's chest. Her thoughts, usually quick and methodical, scrambled now, filled with visions of fractures and sprains, of worse things that might have happened in the harsh cold of the mountain.

But the moment they drew closer, the tightness in her chest only deepened as she saw the uncertainty in Joshua's eyes. He set Ruka down with care, the protective force he usually carried for others now evident in the way he moved—always so careful, so deliberate.

"What happened?" Finn's voice broke through the silence, tinged with a sharp edge of alarm.

"She fell. Hard," Joshua answered, his tone even but his gaze still lingering on Ruka, protective and watchful as he gently set her down.

Zion's instinct kicked in immediately. "Do we take off the boot? What if it's a break?"

"Don't touch the boot!" Finn's voice cracked, more urgently now. His eyes scanned her injury, his medical training taking over.

"Easy," Joshua murmured, the calm in his voice anchoring the moment. Gently, he lowered Ruka onto a nearby bench, the cool air biting at her exposed skin as she sat there, trying to push the pain away. Zion had already flagged down a ski medic, who approached with measured steps, his expression one of quiet authority.

"Let me take a look," the medic said, kneeling beside Ruka with careful hands. After a few moments of gentle examination, the medic nodded in relief. "It's just a sprain, thankfully. Ice it, keep it elevated, and stay off it for a few days. Here's some ice for the road."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the group, the tension in the air dissipating. The fear of something worse had been replaced with the sweet weight of relief.

Finn and Joshua helped Ruka toward Finn's car, their movements steady and reassuring, though the weight of the cold air around them seemed to press in harder with each passing moment. The snow had begun to fall in heavier flakes, swirling in the gusts of wind that howled through the trees like a warning. The world was turning to white and gray, the sky fading into an eerie dusk as they carefully eased Ruka into the warmth of the car. Her ankle throbbed in the quiet, but she managed a small nod of thanks before Finn slammed the door shut.

With Ruka safe, Finn and Joshua turned back, walking to their respective cars with purposeful steps, the sound of their boots crunching in the growing snowstorm the only noise in the otherwise still, frozen air. They worked quickly, stowing away their equipment and preparing for the drive back to the lodge, but even with their haste, the feeling of urgency never quite left them.

The wind had picked up now, slicing through the air with biting intensity. The once-clear roads were now beginning to blur, the layer of fresh snow thickening quickly, and the threat of icy roads loomed heavy in the air. The evening sky, once a soft twilight blue, had deepened into a harsh indigo, the snowflakes now a relentless barrage against the windshield. Finn glanced at Joshua, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he wiped away the frost forming on the edges of the window.

"Think we'll make it before it gets worse?" Joshua's voice was low, the question almost rhetorical, as they both understood how quickly conditions could change in the mountains.

Finn didn't respond immediately, instead casting one last glance at the storm raging outside before starting the engine. The car sputtered to life, its headlights slicing through the growing haze of snow. The roads, slick and treacherous, demanded their full attention now.

"We have to," Finn muttered, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. "It's gonna get worse before it gets better."

The world outside the car seemed to vanish into a blur of swirling white, the trees mere shadows against the fierce wind, and the road ahead barely visible beneath a blanket of snow. The headlights of their cars cut through the storm like frail beacons, offering no more than a fleeting glimpse of the path ahead. The mountain roads, once so familiar, now held an air of danger, the icy grip of the cold pressing down on them with every passing mile. The only sound in the car, aside from the hum of the engine, was the occasional crackling of the radio, a reminder of the isolation they now found themselves in.

As the distance between them and the ski resort widened, the storm seemed to rise in tandem, the road ahead slipping further into obscurity, forcing them to rely on their instincts and the narrow beam of their headlights. The trek back to the lodge was no longer just about getting home—it was about getting through the storm, one snow-covered mile at a time.

Back at the lodge, the room was thick with the clamor of concern. Finn, ever the watchful soul, moved around Ruka with quiet care, icing her swollen ankle and offering anything he thought she might need—food, blankets, whatever comfort could be found in the chaos.

"I can't believe this happened on the first night," Josephine murmured, her voice a mix of amusement and disbelief as she leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

"Be kind," Callie said, her voice a quiet reprimand, laced with something softer underneath.

Ruka, her patience thinning like paper on the edge of a flame, met Josephine's eyes with a sharpness that could cut glass. "Why don't you fuck off?"

Josephine merely rolled her eyes, a lazy smirk playing on her lips as she pushed herself off the counter. "Fine. Whatever," she said with a flick of her hand, turning toward the door. "Don't get all dramatic about it." With that, she left, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she disappeared from the room.

Callie knelt beside her, her tone softening as if she could sense the walls Ruka was trying to keep up. "I get it. This sucks. But don't let this make you think you don't belong here."

For a moment, Ruka's defenses trembled, cracked by the sincerity in Callie's voice. "I was being reckless. Pushing myself too far. If that's why you don't ski anymore, don't let it stop you. It's not worth it."

Callie's expression shifted, a subtle vulnerability flickering through her usual armor. "Thanks," she said quietly, her voice a soft, almost imperceptible breath of recognition.

Helena, her voice steady from across the room, added, "It happens to everyone, Callie. Whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'm here."

Callie nodded, her face unreadable, but something deep in her eyes softened, touched by the unspoken bond.

As the evening fell into a quieter rhythm, Ruka found herself sitting with Sawyer in a distant corner, away from the chaos. The silence between them was comfortable, the kind that spoke volumes without words. "I don't think I'll be staying, honestly," Ruka murmured, her voice low, as though speaking the truth would make it real. "You all have this connection, this history, and I... I'm just a shadow passing through."

Sawyer's gaze softened, a warmth in her eyes that seemed to reach past Ruka's walls. "You don't have to decide tonight," she said gently, her voice carrying the weight of something unspoken. "But if you need to leave, we'll help you. And if you want to stay, you're welcome here. Whatever you need."

Ruka shook her head, her fingers brushing the edge of her ankle as she looked down. "I'll take the bus back," she said, the words feeling heavier than they should. "But thank you. For... everything."

Finn had been lost in the quiet hum of the cabin, stirring coffee absentmindedly, trying to shake the exhaustion from his bones. The house, once filled with the lively chatter and energy of his friends, now stood still—eerily so. No loud voices, no distracting banter, no chaotic energy to fill the space. It was as if the world had shifted in an instant. He glanced at his phone and saw missed calls from Maisie and Elara, his stomach dropping like a stone. The realization hit him hard. "Oh crap, we forgot them at the rink!"

Frustration surged within him, and he smacked his head against the nearest wall. His own careless oversight had left them stranded out there, in the midst of an unforgiving storm.

Joshua, who had walked in just in time to hear Finn's exasperated groan, gave a soft chuckle. "Classic. Don't worry, Ryker and I will go get them."

Ryker, already pulling his jacket on with purpose, nodded grimly. "Come on, let's go."

Outside, the world had already turned to winter's fierce grasp. The snow was falling heavily now, thick and heavy, as the night closed in around them like a blanket. The headlights of their car carved through the storm, but beyond the reach of the beams, the world was shrouded in darkness. The road twisted and climbed, the path leading them higher into the mountains, past towering pine trees weighed down with snow, their limbs heavy under the weight of the storm. The air was icy, biting at their faces as they sped through the desolate landscape. The mountains, usually standing tall in the distance, now seemed like mere silhouettes, barely visible against the blanket of snow and the night sky.

Ryker's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles white as the car strained to push through the snow-covered roads. The radio crackled with static, unable to cut through the storm. Silence hung thick in the car, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the car as it pushed against the weight of the snow.

Joshua leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on the dark road ahead, his mind sharp but his thoughts drifting. "This is a nightmare," he muttered, though the words were laced with a kind of dry amusement.

Ryker snorted, not bothering to glance at him. "Yeah, well, at least we're not stUCK." He exhaled heavily, the exhaustion in his voice masked by the edge of determination. Without another word, he pressed harder on the pedal, the tires crunching over the deepening snow beneath them.

The quiet of the night was overwhelming, as if the storm itself had swallowed the world whole. The only sounds were the soft growl of their engine and the occasional groan of the tires against the snow. The road, winding and narrow, seemed to stretch endlessly into the white abyss, where nothing was real but the pull of the car, the weight of the storm, and the journey ahead.

Eventually, they neared the outskirts of the town, and the glow from the Apres Ski club's lights pierced through the blizzard, offering a brief respite from the endless white. The noise of the place spilled out into the cold night air as Ryker maneuvered the car into the parking lot, the warmth inside the club a sharp contrast to the biting cold they had just driven through.

Inside the club, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the stillness of the night outside. The thrum of Avicii's "Levels" pulsed through the speakers, saturating the air with an infectious rhythm that gripped everyone in its wake. The lights flickered in time with the beat, casting the dancers in an ethereal glow as they moved in sync with the music. Maisie, ever the social butterfly, was in her element, effortlessly slipping through the crowd with her radiant smile, enchanting every guy she passed. Her laughter rang out like a song, carefree and wild, lost in the frenzy of the night.

She found herself drawn to the stage, where a crowd of about thirty people had gathered beneath the DJ booth. There, next to the pole, she began to dance, her movements fluid and captivating. A few guys caught her eye, offering to buy her drinks, and with a mischievous smile, Maisie joined them, weaving her way through the crowd with the grace of someone who had always known how to command attention.

Elara, equally lost in the night, twirled into the arms of a stranger, her laughter echoing as she danced with the abandon of someone completely untethered to the world around her. But as the moments passed, the man's attention became increasingly insistent, his demeanor growing pushy and condescending, something Elara quickly picked up on.

Meanwhile, Ryker stood at the edge of the crowd, his eyes locking onto Maisie the moment she took the stage. His frustration flared, and a muttered curse escaped his lips. "Oh, for the love of—" He shoved his way through the crowd, determination etched on his face as he reached Maisie, grabbing her hand with a force that was both protective and exasperated.

"Time to go," Ryker said, pulling her away before anyone could protest.

Maisie, clearly reluctant to leave her fun behind, pouted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I was having fun!"

Ryker raised an eyebrow, his voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Yeah, I can see that. Let's leave before you start a conga line with half the bar."

But before they could exit, Ryker realized Maisie had forgotten her coat. They embarked on a brief mission to retrieve it, finding it next to Elara's, and then waited at the entrance for the others.

"You totally forgot about us, didn't you?" Maisie laughed, leaning against him for support, her tone light and teasing.

Ryker shrugged, a small laugh escaping his lips. "No, I didn't. Well, maybe I did," he admitted, grinning despite himself.

As the two of them stood there, waiting for the others, Joshua had managed to locate Elara. She stood toe-to-toe with a man twice her size, her face a mixture of frustration and fiery determination as she argued with him.

"What now?" Joshua asked, his voice resigned, already sensing the inevitable mess they were about to walk into.

Elara shot the man a look that could've melted steel. Her hands were firmly planted on her hips as she replied with a defiant snap, "He wouldn't leave me alone!"

The man, in his increasing frustration, shouted in her face, pushing Elara's patience to its limits. Joshua sighed, rolling his eyes as he moved toward them.

"Hey," Joshua barked, his voice firm. "Fuck off." He didn't wait for a response before taking Elara by the shoulder, gently but insistently pushing her in front of him as they made their way through the crowd. The man continued yelling behind them, but Joshua paid him no mind.

Elara huffed dramatically, throwing herself into Joshua's side as if the weight of the entire night had settled onto her. "Why do you always ruin everything?"

Joshua's lips curled into a half-smile, the playful edge in his voice betraying the effort he'd made to keep his cool. "Because I like to keep you alive, that's why."

As they exited the club, Elara leaned her head against him, her tousled hair falling around her face in a way that made Joshua notice how much more natural it looked than her usual slicked-back style. It was something unguarded, something that caught him off guard.

Elara groaned, her voice muffled as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "I hate Ryker. Why does he have to be so smug? And Maisie! What is it with her and him?"

Joshua chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Let's talk about this when you're sober." His tone was gentle, a quiet laugh threading through his words.

Despite the tension that often seemed to cling to them, despite the chaos of the night and the unpredictability of their group, there was something undeniably comforting about their shared connection. They had been through so much together, and no matter how messy things got, they always had each other's backs. In that moment, the madness of the night seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of their unspoken bond.

Ryker glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as Maisie's breath rose and fell gently, undisturbed by the car's movement. Elara was sprawled next to her, her head resting against the window, a faint smile on her lips even in sleep. Ryker kept his eyes on the road, though his mind seemed miles away, lost in thought.

Joshua, who had been quietly staring out the window, finally broke the silence, leaning back in his seat. His gaze flicked to the backseat, then out to the dark stretch of snow-covered road ahead. "You ever wonder what the hell we're doing?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost to himself.

Ryker raised an eyebrow but kept his attention on the road. "What do you mean?"

Joshua sighed, a deep, almost exhausted sound. "I don't know. We pick them up when they fall apart. Babysit them when they get drunk. We're not their backup plan anymore. We're their safety net. Sometimes I wonder if it's even enough, you know?"

Ryker's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw set as he tried to process Joshua's words. After a moment, he responded, quieter than usual, his voice softer than Joshua had expected. "They need us, man. We're the ones who keep them grounded when they start spiraling. It's not about being perfect—it's about being there when it matters."

Joshua gave a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Is that really all you think it is? Just... being there? I mean, sure, we're always there when it gets messy. But what happens when it gets real? When they're not laughing, or getting drunk, or breaking down? What then?"

Ryker's expression stiffened, and his shoulders tensed as he navigated the snow-covered road. "What do you want me to say? That I'm tired of watching Maisie flirt with every guy who breathes? That I'm exhausted from picking up the pieces of Elara's mess every time she takes it too far?"

Joshua didn't answer, the silence between them growing thick with unspoken tension. After a long pause, Ryker exhaled, his breath fogging up the windshield slightly. "Yeah, sometimes it gets complicated. But that's what we do. You think I'm just going to leave them to figure it out alone? Hell no."

Joshua glanced at the rearview mirror, watching Maisie shift slightly in her sleep. He turned back to Ryker, his voice quieter now, tinged with a note of uncertainty. "I just don't know, man. Sometimes I wonder if we're making it harder for them by always stepping in. Maybe they need to figure things out on their own. Maybe we're the ones holding them back."

Ryker was silent for a long moment, the crunch of tires against snow filling the void between them. Finally, he spoke, his tone gentler than usual, more reflective. "Maybe. But what if we're the ones showing them how to do it right? Maybe that's what they need—someone who sticks around, even when things get tough."

Joshua let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "You really do have this whole 'hero complex' thing going on, don't you?"

Ryker smirked, but his focus never wavered from the road. "Someone's gotta do it. And I'm not letting either of them fall apart—not while I'm around."

Joshua fell quiet, his gaze flicking to the backseat where the girls slept soundly, unaware of the conversation taking place. Then, with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he changed the subject. "You remember that night at my party in college? Senior year?"

Ryker raised an eyebrow, glancing briefly at Joshua. "You mean the night your frat nearly got kicked off campus because of all the underclassmen showing up? Yeah, I remember."

Joshua snorted. "Yeah, the one where Maisie and Elara were still juniors, and you two were basically playing babysitters for the night. You remember how Elara was hanging all over some guy, and you were about to break his nose?"

Ryker's lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes darkened with the memory. "Yeah. I had to step in because that guy couldn't take a hint. But don't act like you didn't spend the whole night staring at Elara either." He shot Joshua a sideways glance, his voice taking on a teasing tone. "You definitely weren't just babysitting her, were you?"

Joshua's grin faltered, though he didn't deny it. Instead, he shrugged nonchalantly. "I was keeping an eye on her. You know, like you were with Maisie." He smirked back at Ryker. "Except, I didn't go all caveman on some guy who tried to talk to her. You, on the other hand—"

Ryker shot him a pointed look. "I was protecting her. Big difference."

Joshua raised his hands in mock surrender. "I get it, man. Protective older-brother vibes or whatever." His voice lowered, teasing. "But you can't deny that you don't like Maisie."

Ryker's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond immediately. He focused on the snow-covered road, his grip on the wheel tightening just a bit. Joshua's eyes narrowed, catching the change in Ryker's demeanor.

"You're not denying it," Joshua said, a sly smile creeping onto his face. "You've got it bad for Maisie, don't you?"

Ryker let out a slow breath, finally glancing at Joshua. His expression was unreadable, his tone casual but firm. "Maybe. But that doesn't change anything. Just because I look out for her doesn't mean anything more."

Joshua grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

The air between them was filled with the familiar banter, but underneath it, there was something deeper—something that neither of them would voice just yet. Ryker had his feelings about Maisie, and Joshua had his for Elara. But for now, they both knew their roles, and that was enough.

As they continued to drive through the storm, the warmth of their shared history lingered in the air. Despite the teasing and the complications, they had each other's backs. And that was all that mattered.

By the time they arrived back at the lodge, the two girls were barely conscious, swaying slightly as Callie and Sawyer helped guide them to their respective beds. The soft echoes of their laughter filled the room—a mix of endearing affection and playful disbelief at the madness of the night they'd just survived.

"You're lucky they even came back for you," Callie teased with a half-smirk, casting a knowing glance toward the girls.

Maisie giggled, already sinking into the warmth of the blankets, her voice a dreamy, far-off whisper. "We had so much fun," she murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

Elara groaned, burying her face into the pillow with a look of sheer misery. "Never drinking again," she muttered, her voice muffled by the fabric.

Sawyer, who had been busy setting glasses of water next to their beds, shot them a gentle laugh, raising an eyebrow. "Sure you won't," she said, her tone dripping with fond sarcasm, as if she'd heard this song before.

The cabin settled into a quiet rhythm as the night wore on, the energy of the day still buzzing in the air, even as the group tried to unwind. A few were scattered around, talking softly, while others collapsed in front of the fire, too tired to do anything but stare into the crackling flames.

Ruka, sitting near the window, stared out at the darkened snow-covered landscape. The stillness outside seemed to mirror the emptiness she felt inside, a feeling that had been growing stronger all day. She'd tried to push it away, focus on the fun, on the camaraderie, but the weight of not quite fitting in felt heavier than ever. The others might have their moments of discord, but they had each other. Ruka was still unsure where she fit in, or if she even did.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Elara and Maisie were unwinding after the chaos of the day, their conversation flowing easily as they shared a quiet moment of reflection. Though the effects of the alcohol had long since faded, the lingering warmth of laughter and light-hearted complaints still danced between them.

Maisie, her voice thoughtful and a little dreamy as she settled against a cushion, let out a soft chuckle. "You know, I actually enjoy Ryker's company," she said, her eyes flickering to the fireplace, the soft glow casting shadows across her face. "He's... different from most guys. A bit of a grump, but there's something about him."

Elara snorted, her arms crossed as she slouched on the couch beside her friend. "Ryker? The walking storm cloud? What, did you hit your head on the way back?"

Maisie smiled faintly. "No, seriously. It's like he... cares, but he won't admit it. There's something behind that rough exterior."

Elara waved her hand dismissively, leaning back. "Yeah, well, good luck with that. He's probably just trying to make sure I don't burn the place down."

Maisie raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You know, I think you might be right. But speaking of today—when Joshua jumped in to help you, that was... kinda sweet." She shot Elara a sly look, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. "Wasn't he the knight in shining armor? He looked like he had everything under control."

Elara groaned, shaking her head as she flopped back against the cushions, trying to hide the faintest blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Please, you've had too many Jägerbombs to drink if you think that was sweet. He was just doing what he always does—swooping in when I'm a mess."

Maisie laughed, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "So, you don't think it was sweet?"

Elara groaned again, this time burying her face in the pillow. "You really want to know? Fine. I'll tell you this: it wasn't sweet. It was just... Joshua. Doing his thing. Don't get any ideas."

Maisie chuckled softly, her smile lingering. "I wasn't getting ideas, Elara. I just thought it was nice."

"Nice, huh?" Elara muttered, clearly trying to avoid the subject. "You've had enough 'nice' for one day, trust me." She rolled over, flopping onto her side, pulling the blanket over her head.

Maisie just shook her head, laughing quietly. "You're impossible. But I love you anyway."

Elara smirked from under the blanket. "Yeah, yeah. I'm the grump, and you're the sweet one. Got it."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short," Maisie said. "You've got your charm. It's just... a bit more... sharp-edged."

Elara chuckled. "Well, someone has to keep the boys in check, right?"

Maisie snorted. "Good luck with that."

And so, as the fire downstairs crackled softly, their laughter fading into the gentle hum of the cabin, Maisie and Elara drifted off into a peaceful, untroubled sleep. Their eyelids fluttered shut, the weight of the day melting away as they sank into the warmth of their blankets. The world outside—the snowstorm, the cold mountains—seemed distant and unimportant, forgotten in the haze of exhaustion and comfort.

Unaware of the throbbing headache that would greet them with the light of the morning, they slept soundly, the chaos of the night already fading into the realm of distant memories. The hangover, that cruel companion of too much fun, would come soon enough. But for now, there was only the quiet, blissful oblivion of sleep, where time seemed to stretch endlessly, and the consequences of the night ahead were nothing but a whisper on the wind.

Across the hall, Ryker, Zion, and Joshua were lounging, their voices low as they discussed the day's antics. Zion leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, his mind elsewhere despite the lighthearted atmosphere around him. His thoughts kept circling back to Ruka's fall earlier—how it had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He wasn't one to express concern easily, but he couldn't deny the knot in his stomach when he saw her hit the ground.

"Man, Ruka's tough," Joshua remarked, his feet propped up on the table. "Didn't even flinch when we picked her up."

Ryker, with a half-grin, leaned in. "She's got that 'don't mess with me' vibe, for sure. But I bet she's not as okay as she wants us to think."

Zion didn't respond at first, but he glanced at Joshua, then back at Ryker. "Yeah, something about that girl... she's got a lot of walls up."

Ryker raised an eyebrow. "You thinking of doing something about it?"

Zion shrugged, looking away. "I don't know. It's not my job to fix her. But... she's a part of this group. And if she's not okay, that's on all of us."

Joshua nodded thoughtfully. "I get that. We all play a part in making sure everyone feels like they belong. Maybe we should make sure Ruka knows she's not alone, even if she doesn't show it."

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Callie and Finn were putting together a late-night snack, the soft sound of utensils and the hum of the fridge filling the otherwise quiet space.

"You ever think about how we all ended up here?" Callie asked, breaking the silence as she chopped some vegetables.

Finn, focused on the counter, didn't look up. "Sometimes. But it's like any group—there's no one big moment, you know? Just... lots of little ones. I think we all ended up together because, at the end of the day, we balance each other out."

Callie's gaze lingered on him for a moment, before she replied, "I guess that's true. Even if it doesn't always feel that way."

Finn finally looked up, offering a small smile. "That's the point, isn't it? We're not supposed to be perfect. We're supposed to be together."

Just then, the rest of the group gathered around the fire, the flickering light casting long shadows on the walls. The conversations from earlier resumed, more relaxed now, but still filled with the same energy that made them all unique.

And in that moment, as they sat together—some more connected than others—there was an unspoken understanding. Despite the chaos, despite the mess of emotions and personalities, they were family. Not by blood, but by choice.

And that was enough.