Heart of Stone - final revised version :)

Shifting the Foundation

Tonight is even colder, so we huddle together in the back of the cave. Both of our jackets are draped over us as we shiver, shoulder to shoulder.

"It's fucking freezing." Brendon says, tightly wrapping his arms around himself.

"No shit, Sherlock." A breeze blows into the cave and makes Brendon shiver more.

"Fuck." There's worry in his voice. "What if we die out here?" He looks into my eyes, his gaze filled with terror.

"We're not gonna die. We're going to find a way home." I say, more to myself than him.

"But what if we die tonight?" His voice wavers.

"Would you stop?" I can see tears forming in his eyes. "God. C'mere." I sigh and wrap my arm around him. I don't want him upset. That's the last thing I need. He buries his head into my neck, and I lean my head against his. I let him cry, though he's getting my nice shirt all wet.

I rub his arm. "Hey. Shh. We're gonna be alright. Okay?"

"Okay." He mumbles into my neck.

"Lay down. Get some sleep. I'll make sure you don't freeze." I say softly.

"I can't sleep. I'm too scared." Brendon whispers, almost embarrassed.

I roll my eyes. "Just-" I sigh. I shouldn't. But I do. "Just lie in my lap. You don't have to sleep. Just relax. Worrying only makes it worse."

He doesn't say anything and slides his head into my lap. I move my jacket over his legs and mine over his arms. His body still shudders from crying, so I hesitantly move my hand to his head and slowly run my fingers through the locks. I feel him stiffen at first then eventually relax. His breathing becomes even and slow.

It's freezing, but I don't mind. He's figured out how to warm my heart. It's more than anyone else ever could do.

***

I wake up, Brendon still in my lap. It's a lot warmer, so I take my jacket off Brendon and put it on, careful not to disturb him. Still, he stirs and opens his eyes.

"You better?" I ask.

"Yeah." He rubs his eyes. "Sorry for being such a wimp last night."

"Whatever." I shrug it off. "Just glad you didn't die."

"Me too." He gets up and rummages through my duffel bag.

"Ryan?" He says, his voice filled with growing concern.

"Hm?" I say, still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"We've run out of food."

I pause. I look at him and furrow my eyebrows. "What?"

"We fucking ate everything yesterday." He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Well shit." Guess I didn't over-plan on that part.

"'Well shit' is right. What are we supposed to do now?" He asks desperately.

"I don't know. Hunt? There's gotta be animals around here somewhere."

His eyes widen. "I don't want to kill an animal." I give him a questioning look, and he quickly looks down at his hands. "Plus, we don't even have a gun."

I shrug. "Then we make a spear thing. Like the Indians."

"How the fuck do we make a spear?"

"Here." I walk out of the cave and grab the nearest rock with a sharp edge. "We take this rock. And uh," I grab a stick off the ground. "This stick. And you just kinda. Sharpen the stick?"