It took Brendan all of his strength to carry Sam back to the house.
They made slow progress, Brendan holding up his delirious friend the best he could. Sam could barely work his muscles; awkwardly putting one stiff leg in front of the other.
They fell over several times; Sam losing his grip on the ice and dragging Brendan down with him. The house was still too far away. The block that stretched out before them suddenly seemed as wide as an ocean.
They passed a big looking warehouse, taking up one entire block, and Brendan wondered distantly if any supplies could be found inside
They reached the house in silence and Brendan pushed open the door with his shoulder.
"Helena!" He yelled out and dragged Sam the last few meters down the hallway. Helena's face appeared around the corner; hair disheveled and her eyes strangely rimmed with red.
At the sight of the boys, Helena's eyes widened and she ran over, grabbing Sam from the other side and dragging him into the living room. He fell onto the couch and Helena turned to Brendan.
"What's wrong with him?" He voice was strangely unsteady.
"See for yourself."
Helena leaned over Sam and quickly started to take his vital signs. Blood pulse, breathing rate, temperature, awareness; Brendan wondered how Helena could remember to do everything.
After a few minutes, Sam started to shift on the couch, his back arching and his eyes screwing shut with apparent pain.
"Push the couch closer to the fire," Helena cast a quick glance towards Brendan and he did as he was told.
"We're going to need to put him in warmer clothes," Helena murmured. Sam was unresponsive, his entire body tense. "His body's trying to warm up, can you tell? It's going to be very painful."
Brendan helped Helena remove Sam's coat and shirt, and put on warm clothes. Brendan grabbed the blankets out of the sleeping bags and covered Sam with them as best he could. His friend's skin was a sickly white color, and Brendan prayed that the heat would be enough to revive him.
"Give him some warm water to drink..." Helena's voice trailed off as she looked at Sam's frosty blue calves. Too blue. She looked frozen in place, like the air around her had stopped circulating. Brendan fumbled for Sam's backpack, watching Helena as she yanked off Sam's soaked shoes.
Brendan felt bile pressing into the back of his throat. He couldn't look away from Sam's feet.
Black. Like a fog that slowly crept up Sam's feet and killed everything in its wake. His toes were entirely black, as well as half of one foot. Yellow patches spread over the black areas. Above that, dark blue skin. Dark as the night sky, tinged gray.
Brendan couldn't see Helena's face from his angle, but she had ceased all movement. Her hand hovered still over Sam's feet. Not even her hair shifted. Not even her chest moved with her breathing.
They stayed motionless like that for a long time, until Helena's voice rang out, harsh.
"The warm water, Brendan," Her voice caught on his name. "Go get it."
Brendan looked down at Sam's bag, where his hands rested, and grabbed the water bottle. He went over to the little sink in the kitchen and watched absently as warm water trickled into the container. His thoughts were muddled and far away. Not here, not with Sam or Helena. Not anywhere.
He came back with the water, but stopped at the entrance to the living room. Helena's head was bowed, one hand resting on Sam's leg and the other touching the bandage on her forehead. Her shoulders shook, very slightly, and her hair hid her face like a curtain. Brendan stayed frozen, staring at the scene. He knew that if he moved even a muscle, the air would shatter.
