#and i maayyyyy have a part three continuing the recovery arc

[warmblanketwhump]

hi, if it isn't too much to ask could you please please write pt 2 to that one forehead kisses imagine with A, B, and C in the forest (sorry it's not letting me attach the link), it's soooo good!! thank you and feel free to ignore this if you're too busy / prefer not to

believe it or not, I had actually started writing this THE DAY you sent this, so I think it was meant to be!

because I myself desperately need more comfort in my life and need to read about characters getting rescued, y’all are getting a part two to this ---------------------------

they say the darkest part of the night is before the dawn - and never did that feel more true to A than huddled by the base of a tree next to burnt out embers that sputter in the icy rain. When C had left, it had been bitterly cold, but at least it had been dry. But just a hour later, the cold rain began coming down in sheets. A couldn’t leave to find better shelter - after all, C was coming back to them.

So there they lie, shivering as the bitter wind blows and the icy rain falls. They’re curled over B’s feverish body to block the brunt of the rain, hoping against hope that C will be strong enough to make it back again. And with a thought that they’ll feel guilty about long afterwards, A’s glad that they can hold B’s fever-warm body close to their own for even the smallest bit of heat.

B moans softly in A's arms and curls closer into them, wracked by weak, pitiful coughing that makes A feels like the life is being squeezed out of them. A's already shed their own cloak to wrap around them and given them their sweater and the single blanket, but the shivers still ripple through B's small body. If A has to take the shirt off their back during this cold, wet, miserable night for B to survive, they'll do it without a second thought.

"Come on, now," A whispers, voice thick with unshed tears as they tighten their grip. "Don't give up on me just yet. Home, remember?" They trace shaky, mud-covered fingers through B's matted hair before cradling their fevered head closer, and B's hands tighten on A's shirt, then slip to press flat against A's chest.

"Still....'live...." they mumble, keeping their hand over the constant rhythm of A's heartbeat.

And it's those words that pull the first sob from A's throat, which cascades one into another, and turns to uncontrollable weeping that they've been trying to hold back for days. The tears roll down their cheeks, soaking into B’s hair and mixing in with the rain, and A grips B tighter to themselves as if B alone is the anchor keeping them from dissolving off the face of the earth.

They're cold and exhausted and starving and scared and they just don't have anything to give anymore. They just want to go home. And yet the impossible is being asked of them. Keep B alive.

They’re not sure how long they weep, but eventually their sobs slow. B's slipped back into a feverish sleep, hand now limp on their chest. What do they do now? Sleep feels dangerous. The cold even more so. They need to get warmed up….they need…

But A just can't keep their eyes open any more, can't fight the tug of blessed darkness in the corners of their vision. The cold is slipping away now, blooming into a warmth in their fingers and toes.

I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes. Then I'll get up and try to stoke the fire back up. Besides, B’s warm. Just a few minutes...so tired…

They don't know how long they're unconscious. They're only aware of hands roughly shaking their shoulders, of soft lantern light casting a glow over their makeshift campsite, of B being pulled from their arms and being too weak to stop it. A tries to cry out, to pull their anchor back, but their throat is rough sandpaper, and their bones are heavy with sleep and cold.

And without the warmth of B's fevered body pressed against them, they realize just how dangerously cold they are from sleeping outside all night, unsheltered from the rain. In the gray, milky dawn, a blurry rescuer props them up and wraps a thick, warm blanket around their body, but they’re too frozen to express any proper amount of gratitude.

C's at their side - C? How'd they get here? - and their eyebrows are furrowed, shaking hands resting on A’s shoulders, then pulling A into a bone-crushing hug. "Hey. I'm here. I told you I'd be back. We’re saved." A wants to say something, to thank them, to reassure them that they'll be fine, but they're just too cold and tired to form the words before they collapse, boneless, into C’s arms.

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If A had been fully conscious, they'd see the small band of rescuers wrapping them in blankets, carrying them through the woods until they arrive back at their home village. They would feel themselves being rushed into the small cabin, their bone-chilled body being wrapped in warm blankets in front of a roaring fire, held close in C's arms, then eased into a warm bath to get scrubbed clean and thawed out. But they’re in and out for the whole ordeal, slipping in and out of the fibrous threads of consciousness as they’re hauled back from the brink.

When A comes back, they're aware of feeling clean for the first time in months. They're aware of being...comfortable for the first time in months. The bed is soft. The blankets are warm. Their clothes are clean. Is this heaven?

Blinking slowly, the fuzzy details of the familiar room come into focus. A looks at their hand, and all the dirt's been scrubbed away, their nails trimmed and filed. They blink once, twice, and realize they're tucked away in their own bed, two familiar patchwork quilts piled on top of them. They’re home.

The fire in the hearth is blazing brightly, casting flickering shadows across the walls and illuminating their familiar home - the ultimate picture of warmth, comfort, the image that's been driving them and giving them something to hope for. But the heat doesn't quite reach the deep, trembling cold that lingers in their bones. Tugging the quilts to their chin, A wonders if they could manage to move closer to the fire.

"Hey there, stranger. Thought you were giving up on me." C’s seated at their bedside, a small smile on their tired face. They're clean too, with a bandage wrapped around their hand and their arm in a sling, their free hand holding a small wooden bowl that's wafting steam.

"Not...gettin' rid of me that easy," A mumbles, closing their eyes again. God, they're so cold. Even covered in warm blankets, they're shivering, and the unwelcome prickle of goosebumps dances across their cold, clammy skin.

Cold. Cold night. Dying fire. B. Their eyes fly open and they jerk up, noticing B’s empty bed on the other side of the room. They’re not there. B’s gone. B’s not here. Where are they - they’re barely able to tamp down their panic as they try to push themselves up on shaky arms. "Where....Where's B? B? Where are they-"

"Hey, hey now." C is up in a flash, bracing A's shoulders gently with one arm and forcing them to look them in the eye. "Take a breath. They're here. Look.”

A summons all their strength to look beside them, where C is pointing. There in bed next to them, with covers pulled up to their chin and fist curled into the blankets, fast asleep save for a small, intermittent cough, is B. Alive. Home. They’d done it.

C smiles tiredly. "It was easier to look after you these last few days by having you both in one place. Except you both kept trying to hold hands, which made medicine time interesting.”

Even now, A reaches out to B to lay a trembling hand on their forehead, in wonder at the easy, slightly shallow breaths they're taking, at how the half-dead pallor of their face has cleared, and the color's coming back to their cheeks. “How are they really?”

C shrugs. “This stubborn fighter? We think they’re gonna be okay. They’ve still got a nasty cough, and their lungs are pretty weak. But they’re through the worst of it.”

C rises to their feet and moves around the bed, laying their good hand over B’s forehead, then gently feeling their lymph nodes in their neck. “Fever’s been gone for a few hours now. The healer's come by with medicine, too. But they said it could've been much worse if not for...”

There's a deeper layer of meaning in C's words, but A's tired brain is unsure what to make of it. “…Meaning?”

C turns to A, eyes shining with some untraceable emotion. “You’d taken off all your warm stuff and wrapped B up in it. They were hardly wet at all. And it probably saved their life.”

A memory flashes back in their mind - pulling the sweater from their body, wrapping B in a cloak, wincing as the freezing rain drove into their skin like tiny knives. They were barely awake then, but the instinct to sacrifice for B had been second nature.

As if in response, B coughs, deeper this time, and even though they're still asleep, they stretch their hand out toward A, and A takes it in theirs, grateful that somehow, everyone is alright. They're home.

"So why do I still feel so awful?" They hadn't realized they'd been unconscious for so long. And despite not being as ill as B was at the beginning, they’re so chilled and weak and achy that something must be wrong.

"You? It's a whole mess of things. You were nearly blue when we found you, and it took you two days to get your body temperature back to normal.” They come around to A’s side of the bed and lay a hand on their head, and A leans into the blessedly warm touch on their still-cool skin. “Hypothermia, shock, exhaustion, weeks of trying to function on no sleep and barely anything to eat.”

C vacantly stares into the flickering fire, like their mind is seeing another scene entirely. “The stress of it all pushed you into survival mode. So now that you’re resting, survival mode is off. And you feel terrible.”

"And you?" A whispers. "How are you?"

C laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Me? I’m fine. Just trying to comprehend that I left you there and almost lost you both in one night. If only I'd known it would rain…if I’d been an hour later..."

"But you weren't." It takes monumental strength, but they creep their cold fingers out to the edge of the blanket and limply grab at C's hand with their icy one. "You weren't. You got there. You got us home. We're all okay."

C squeezes it back, wrapping their hand around A’s to rub some warmth into it, then tucks A back under the blankets. "We'll be okay."

A chill floods A’s body, like cold water’s slowly being poured over them even though they’re tucked under warm blankets. The shudder is small, but C still sees, and the worry flashes in their eyes. “You feeling okay?"

A closes their eyes and hugs themselves under the blankets, weakly rubbing their arms. “Cold. So, so cold. I still feel the rain all over me.” Another violent shudder rattles their teeth, and they curl into a tight ball. “I can’t get warm.”

A wistful look crosses C’s face, and they go to retrieve a blanket laying on the hearth that’s been warmed by the fire. A’s hopeful eyes track with the layer.

“Here. This’ll take the chill off.” They pull back enough of the layers to sneak the warm blanket closest to A’s body. A greedily gathers the soft material in their hands and tugs it tightly against them, feeling the heat soak into their chilled bones. After days in the forest, they’re finally warm.

A nods towards the kitchen. “There’s some porridge on the stove if you’re hungry. People have been bringing by food all week, and it’ll be good to get something warm in you to help get your strength back.”

A nods - it’s been so long since they last had a hot meal, but they’re not sure what their stomach can handle. C returns with a twin bowl to theirs and props A up, careful to not let the blankets slip from their shoulders, then eases a few spoonfuls through their lips. It tastes like cinnamon and molasses and nuts, and some other spice they can’t identify - but it tastes good, and A wishes they could manage more than a few bites.

They nod once signifying when they’re done, and C helps ease them back down and retucks the blankets. “Let me know when you want more. Rest for as long as you need. We've all earned it."

As A drifts off, they're nearly overwhelmed with gratitude once more, for all the things they had once taken for granted. Food. Shelter. Warmth. People they love. It's all here - these things they thought they'd lose forever.

And rest, they do. And then, they begin the long journey of recovery.