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“I hate the cold,” Lia grumbled, kicking at a small mound of snow. “Sloane! Are you done looking yet?”
“I’m almost done,” Sloane replied quickly, pulling her gloves off and tossing them aside.
Michael groaned. “Sloane, for the love of⎼⎼put your gloves back on.”
Sloane traced her finger through the snow, drawing out the patterns of footsteps. “They won’t work for this.”
“Five more minutes, and then you’re out,” Agent Sterling announced, folding her arms over her chest. “Before anyone freezes to death.”
“No one’s going to freeze to death,” Cassie said confidently.
“We say that now, and yet here is Sloane, not wearing any gloves,” Michael replied.
Celine picked Sloane’s gloves up. “Why won’t they work for this?” she asked Sloane.
“The fingers are too wide,” Sloane insisted. “I need a smaller line.”
Agent Sterling sighed. “Sloane, please put the gloves back on.”
“Just a little longer,” Sloane begged.
“You’re going to catch a cold or something,” Dean interjected. He was standing a few feet away from the rest of them with his arms crossed. Cassie slid closer to him and pressed up against his side. He hooked his arm around her shoulders.
The wind picked up, and snow blew in every direction. “Call it, Sterling,” Michael urged.
“I’ll give her another minute,” Agent Sterling decided.
Sloane moved onto tracing out the outline of where the body had been. The wind blew her hair into her face, and she haphazardly pushed it away with the heel of her other hand. An exceptionally strong gust of wind almost knocked her over, and she stumbled.
“Okay, that’s it,” Agent Sterling interrupted. “I’m calling it. It’s a hike back to where the car is, and none of you need to be out in this any longer.”
Celine slid her arm around Sloane’s shoulders and passed her the gloves. Sloane squeezed them in her hands.
“You’re supposed to wear them, genius,” Lia said, rubbing her hands together. Without waiting for a reply, she started back the way they’d come.
“She’s right,” Michael agreed.
Sloane shook her head. “It’s fine.”
Dean frowned, following Lia. “You’re going to get frostbite.”
Sloane swiped at her nose. “The likelihood of frostbite increases when temperatures are below zero degrees Fahrenheit or negative eighteen degrees Celsius. It’s currently five degrees Fahrenheit, feels like three.”
Michael raised a finger in the air. “I take it it’s not impossible, though.”
Agent Sterling walked past them. “Less standing around, more walking,” she suggested.
They started after her. Celine glanced sideways at Sloane. “You’re shivering really bad,” she noted.
Sloane shook her head again and found it very hard to stop. “I’m fine.”
“Someone call Lia,” Michael teased.
Cassie frowned nervously. “Maybe you have hypothermia.”
“I’m okay,” Sloane insisted.
No one was convinced.
“Car’s just up there,” Celine said, pointing ahead. Sloane could barely make out the shape of the car through the steadily increasing snow. “We’ll get you warmed up.”
Agent Sterling was waiting for them when they finally trudged up to the car. “Everyone okay?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Sloane’s cold,” Michael said.
Sloane shivered. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Lia called from her spot inside the car. “Get your butt in here.”
Sloane slid into the car, her gloves still clutched in her fist, with Celine right behind her. Michael, Cassie, and Dean took the middle row, and Agent Sterling climbed into the drivers’ seat. “It’s going to be a few hours back,” she reported, starting the car. “Get comfortable back there.”
Instinctively, Sloane curled into Celine, her head falling on Celine’s shoulder. She did her absolute best to not focus on how cold she was, even as the car warmed up around her. Her eyelids fluttered once, twice, and then the blackness swallowed her.
Agent Sterling pulled into the driveway and swiveled to survey the six Naturals in the back of the car. Celine was careful not to move too much, since Sloane had fallen asleep on her shoulder almost instantly. She hated the idea of waking Sloane up, even if she knew someone had to do it eventually.
“Is Sloane asleep back there?” Agent Sterling asked.
“Yes,” Celine confirmed with a nod.
Michael turned to look at them. “She looks pretty flushed,” he observed. “Maybe she’s sick?”
Agent Sterling opened her car door. “I need to finish up some stuff here. Celine, get her inside. I’ll check in later.”
Celine nodded again and gently tapped Sloane’s shoulder as the other Naturals started to spill out of the car. “Sloane?”
Sloane’s eyes fluttered open. Her eyes were glassy, and her breath was the slightest bit raspy. She forced out a small, incomprehensible sound.
“Hey, you’re not looking too great,” Celine said nervously. “Let’s go inside, okay?”
Sloane nodded, her head tipping forward. “Can you… help me?”
“Of course,” Celine replied. The two of them stumbled out of the car and headed through the steadily falling snow into the house, Sloane leaning heavily on Celine. Neither girl said anything until they were halfway down the hallway and Sloane mumbled, “‘M going to pass out.”
“What? Are you sure you can’t make it?” Celine asked, eyeing the distance between where they were and Sloane’s room. It wasn’t that far. Sloane only needed to hang on for thirty more seconds. Maybe a minute.
“I’m gonna… pass out,” Sloane repeated. Her flushed skin had gone about five shades paler.
Celine hesitated, but eventually the pallor of Sloane’s skin made the decision for her. “Okay,” Celine said. “Okay, okay. I got you.” Carefully, she eased Sloane back against the wall and into a sitting position. Sloane dropped her head between her knees and Celine gently traced circles on her back. After a few seconds, it seemed like Sloane might be fine, until she unexpectedly went limp and fainted, collapsing in a heap on the floor.
Celine reacted on instinct, gently shifting Sloane into a lying-down position and cupping her hand to the side of Sloane’s neck to try and feel her heartbeat underneath her heated skin. Just then, Michael appeared at the end of the hallway. “Whoa⎼⎼what happened?” he asked, rushing over. “Is she okay?”
“She’s really sick,” Celine replied, her voice tinged slightly with panic. Michael dropped down to the floor to try and help, but she swatted him away. “Go find Sterling.”
Michael stood back up. “Can do.” He disappeared back down the hallway, calling, “Sterling! Sterling!”
“What is it?” Agent Sterling’s voice demanded. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Sloane,” Celine heard Michael gasp. “She’s burning up⎼⎼it’s really bad⎼⎼CeCe’s got her, but I don’t⎼⎼I think you⎼⎼”
Celine carefully scooped Sloane into her arms, pulling Sloane’s body close to hers, as the clatter of footsteps sounded down the hall. Agent Sterling came into view and hurried over. She took one look at Sloane and cursed under her breath. “Shouldn’t have let her go out in the cold like that,” she muttered. “Okay. Let’s get her to her room.”
Sloane moaned softly as Celine stood and lifted her into the air. Celine hurried down the hallway, being as careful as she could to ensure Sloane was comfortable, and entered Sloane’s room with Agent Sterling and Michael close behind her. Celine carefully lowered Sloane onto the bed, and Michael pulled a light blanket over her.
Agent Sterling moved closer and felt Sloane’s forehead. “That’s not good,” she said under her breath.
“She’ll be okay, right?” Celine asked, a slight note of desperation creeping into her voice.
Agent Sterling exhaled. “Yes. She’ll be fine. Right now, though, she’s pretty sick, and the immediate future’s not looking very good.”
Celine perched on the edge of the bed and lightly traced her fingertips over Sloane’s sweat-soaked bangs. “What can we do?”
“We can try to get her to drink water,” Agent Sterling said, running her hand down her face. “And keep her temperature steady. If she’s conscious enough to take medicine, we can try that, too.”
Sloane shivered and another soft moan escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and her gaze landed on Celine but never focused. “It’s cold,” she whispered. “Cold…”
Celine and Michael both turned to Agent Sterling.
Agent Sterling looked like she was debating what to say. “Chills usually mean a fever is rising,” she said finally. “I wouldn’t go overboard with trying to warm her up.”
Michael took Sloane’s hand in his. “She’s freezing,” he said in surprise.
Celine looked back at Sloane. Her eyes were closed again.
“I’ll get some water and let the others know what’s going on,” Agent Sterling said. She fixed her gaze on Michael, then Celine. “Don’t leave her alone.”
Agent Sterling left, and Michael sank down on the bed next to Celine. He squeezed Sloane’s hand gently as her head tipped to the side. “I feel like such an idiot,” he muttered. “We shouldn’t have let her be out in the cold for so long. Or let her take the gloves off.”
“Maybe this isn’t from the cold,” Celine suggested.
Michael snorted. “That’s optimistic.”
Sloane stirred restlessly. Her eyes fluttered open again, and she struggled to push herself up. Celine gently rested her hands on Sloane’s shoulders, keeping her in place. “No, no, you need to lie still,” she said quietly. “Just rest.”
Sloane’s forehead scrunched up, and she coughed. “You don’t,” she forced out. “Have to…”
Michael scooted a little closer. “Yes, we do.”
“It’s okay,” Celine reassured her. “You’re not a burden, okay?”
Sloane’s lips parted slightly, and another violent shiver ran through her shoulders. Her entire body shook, and a small whimper slipped out. “Celine,” she whispered dazedly. “Make it stop. Please…”
“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” Celine replied softly. She ran her fingers through Sloane’s hair. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”
Agent Sterling reappeared in the doorway with a glass of water in one hand and a towel in the other. She set the glass down on the nightstand and draped the towel over Sloane’s forehead. Sloane let out a soft sigh, and her body sank deeper into the mattress.
Cassie’s head popped into the doorway, watching nervously. Michael waved her in, and she moved to stand next to Agent Sterling hesitantly. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Yes,” Agent Sterling replied firmly. “It’s going to take some time, though, and she’s going to need a lot of rest.”
Sloane murmured something unintelligible under her breath, and Celine traced her finger down the side of Sloane’s face.
Outside, the wind howled. Cassie crossed the room and peeked out the window. “It’s really snowing out there,” she reported. She turned back to face them, a worried expression on her face. “What if we lose power?”
“Going straight to the worst-case scenario, now are we?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.
Agent Sterling was unperturbed. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.”
Dean appeared in the doorway with a small bottle in his hand. He surveyed the already-crowded room and passed the bottle to Agent Sterling instead of coming in as well. “Painkillers,” he said. “In case she needs them.”
Lia peeked out from around Dean, looking almost worried despite herself.
Agent Sterling sighed. “I told you not to crowd her.”
“What can we do to help her?” Dean asked quietly.
Agent Sterling rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “We’ll have to see how she does.”
Sloane shifted again. A drop of sweat ran down the side of her face, and Michael pulled the blanket off. Sloane curled into Celine and pressed up against her, her breaths coming in little pants and tiny, half-suppressed gasps.
“Let’s clear out for a while,” Agent Sterling suggested gently. “One of you should stay.”
Michael looked to Celine. “It should be you,” he said finally. “Text us if you need someone.”
Celine nodded. “I will.”
The others gradually cleared out of the room, leaving Sloane and Celine alone. Celine laid down next to Sloane, cradling Sloane’s body against hers.
“‘M gonna get you sick,” Sloane mumbled, half awake.
“Good thing I care about you more than I care about being sick,” Celine replied softly, running her fingers through Sloane’s hair. “Just relax, okay? Close your eyes.”
Hours passed. Sloane’s fever rose. She drifted in and out of consciousness, never coherent enough to form a full sentence. Each of the other Naturals, plus Agent Sterling, popped their head in at least once to check in on how things were going. Celine managed to get Sloane to drink some water, but couldn’t get her to swallow any pills⎼⎼or, for that matter, food, which was not helping with Sloane’s exhaustion.
Sloane stirred and blinked groggily up at Celine. “I’m cold,” she mumbled, her words slurring together.
Celine knew this couldn’t just be the fever. As the snow had picked up and the sun had started to go down outside, the large, drafty Colorado house had gotten colder and colder. Before Celine could form a response, the power blinked out.
A few shrieks sounded from outside the room. Sloane whimpered softly and curled up next to Celine. She sniffled.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Celine soothed. “The power just went out. You’re okay.”
Sloane sniffled again and started to cry, her breaths coming in quiet sobs.
“Shh, sweetheart, no,” Celine whispered. Sloane was already dehydrated for sure, and the last thing she needed was to lose more fluids. “Please don’t cry. It’s okay.”
Footsteps sounded outside the room, and someone shined a flashlight in. Celine turned her head to look and immediately shielded her eyes from the light.
“Sorry,” Michael’s voice said, turning the flashlight’s glare to the ceiling. “She okay?”
“I’m going to go with no,” Celine replied.
Michael exhaled. “Shit. She’s not getting better?”
Celine shook her head, then remembered he couldn’t really see her. “Not so far.”
Michael edged closer, and Sloane made a small squeaking noise. He held his free hand up in a surrender gesture. “Hey. It’s just me, okay?”
There was no response. Michael took this as a sign to move closer. He lightly pushed her sweaty bangs away from her face.
More footsteps came down the hallway, and Agent Sterling stuck her head in the room. “Michael, there you are.” She sounded both worried and exhausted. “Celine, how’s Sloane doing?”
Celine frowned at Sloane. In the light of the flashlight, she could see Sloane’s closed eyes, her slightly parted lips, the tear tracks on her face. She pulled Sloane’s hair away from her heated neck. “Not better.”
“What about you?” Agent Sterling asked. Celine blinked in surprise. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” Celine replied immediately.
That statement was met with doubtful silence.
“Seriously,” Celine insisted. “I am.”
“Okay,” Agent Sterling said after a long pause. “As long as you don’t come down with a fever next.”
Sloane moaned softly, and her body shook with chills. Michael reacted faster than Celine did and pulled the blanket back over Sloane. “It’s cold,” Sloane mumbled, so quietly that her voice was almost inaudible. Her hand desperately searched for something to hold onto.
Celine grabbed her hand. Michael reached behind Sloane and picked up a stuffed animal, nestling it in the crook of Sloane’s arm. Celine squinted at it, struggling to determine what it was in the darkness. “Is that a… shark?”
“Yep,” Michael confirmed. “It’s her favorite. Briggs got it for her.”
“He did?” Agent Sterling’s voice took on a lighter tone. “I didn’t know that.”
Michael covered up his laugh with a cough. “He in fact did. It was for her birthday, I think.”
Celine watched Sloane, not sure whether she was asleep or not. The day’s exhaustion, from the case they’d been looking at this morning to managing Sloane’s fever, was finally starting to catch up to her, but she forced herself to stay awake. Her passing out wouldn’t help anyone, and besides, Sloane needed her.
“You both need sleep,” Agent Sterling decided. “I’ll stay with Sloane.”
“You need sleep too,” Michael fired back. “Who in this house has slept most recently?”
Apparently, none of them knew the answer to that.
“I’ll stay,” Michael volunteered. “I’m the most awake.”
“What time is it?” Celine asked, realizing she hadn’t looked at a clock in hours.
Agent Sterling frowned, her facial expression barely visible. “Right now? I don’t know. When the power went out, it was close to ten PM. Neither of you should stay up any later taking care of Sloane.”
“No way,” Michael protested. “I’m going to stay.”
“You’re going to sleep.”
Sloane cut off any further argument from Michael with a groan. She tried to lift her head slightly and ended up collapsing back into the pillows, her energy completely gone. “Hey, careful,” Celine whispered. “You’re going to be okay. Just sleep.”
Sloane coughed. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I…”
Agent Sterling moved closer and picked up the glass of water. “Let’s try some water,” she suggested. “Celine, can you try and move her up?”
Celine nodded and carefully lifted Sloane into more of a sitting position, gently pushing her to lean back on a few pillows. Agent Sterling poured some of the water into Sloane’s mouth, being careful not to spill any on her. Sloane didn’t fight her, but as soon as Agent Sterling stepped back she slumped into the pillows, her head tipping to the side. Celine quickly slid her back down to her original position, and Sloane murmured something unintelligible in her half-conscious state, turning onto her side.
“Go to bed,” Agent Sterling instructed. “I’ll stay.”
The second Michael opened his eyes, one thought popped into his head and did not leave. Sloane. He hoped she was feeling better, but knew that she probably wasn’t⎼⎼especially after the power outage last night making the house even colder and draftier than usual. He stumbled out of bed and made his way to her room. Agent Sterling looked up at his arrival. “You’re up early.”
“Is the power back?” Michael asked. “I’m guessing not.” It was still freezing in the house, although the morning light lit up the house pretty well and made it easy to forget they’d been floundering around in the darkness last night.
Agent Sterling shook her head. “We’re hoping the pipes don’t freeze.”
Michael nodded in agreement. The pipes freezing could lead to several different things. One: running water stopped working. Two: the house flooded. The list went on and on. Michael crept closer. Sloane was asleep under a blanket, her stuffed shark still clutched in her arms.
“I can stay with her,” he volunteered. He studied the dark circles under Agent Sterling’s eyes. “Seriously.”
Agent Sterling hesitated, then nodded. She stood up. “Pills are still a no go. She’s been drinking water, though.”
Michael nodded and took her spot on the edge of the bed as she left. He gently pushed Sloane’s damp bangs out of her face. Every inch of her body was radiating heat, and yet she was still shivering.
Sloane’s eyes fluttered open. She opened her mouth but couldn’t form any words, just small, exhausted breaths.
“Hi,” Michael said gently. “Feeling any better?”
Sloane blinked wearily at him. Exhaustion was clearly etched into her facial features⎼⎼in the dark circles under her eyes, in the crease of her forehead, in the slight pull of her lips. Her body shook with both chills and exhaustion.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Michael decided. His eyes landed on the small bottle of painkillers Dean had brought in yesterday, and he picked it up. “Um. Should we try these?”
“I can’t…” Sloane coughed, her whole body spasming as she curled up on her side. She coughed again, more violently than before. “Can’t…”
“You can’t swallow them,” Michael translated. He contemplated. “Is it worth giving it a shot? It might help you feel better.”
“Not gonna… able to… it,” Sloane muttered, her disjointed words slurring together in her feverish exhaustion.
“Okay, so no.”
“Michael…”
“What?”
“Is… my fault?” Sloane mumbled.
“The fever?” Michael asked. His brain clicked the pieces together. “No. Absolutely not. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s our fault, because we all know you don’t do well in the cold and we said oh well, whatever! and let you go out there. I promise you, this is one hundred percent not your fault.”
“Mm,” Sloane murmured.
Michael wasn’t really sure how much she was hearing, but he plowed on anyway. “You are going to get through this. You are going to feel better. You are going to be okay. Got all that?”
Sloane managed a nod. The shaking had stopped, so Michael pulled the blanket back off. Sloane squeaked and curled up to him. “Get some sleep,” Michael suggested. “You’ll feel better.”
Celine peeked into the room. Michael waved her in. “I was thinking we should have a slumber party,” he informed her.
She raised her eyebrows. “It’s morning.”
“Whatever. Where are Cassie, Dean, and Lia?”
Celine shrugged. “I don’t know.”
As if on cue, Cassie stuck her head in the room. Her expression automatically softened when she saw Sloane. “Is she doing better?” she whispered.
Celine looked to Michael, who shook his head. “Not really. But hey, come join the slumber party.”
“It’s morning,” Cassie said, her eyebrows going up in confusion.
“That’s what I said,” Celine agreed.
“I still don’t care,” Michael said. “If Dean and Lia show up, all six of us are going to somehow fit in this bed. If they don’t show up, we’ll make do with the four of us.”
Cassie’s brows knitted together. “Are you sure we’ll fit?”
“When there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Dean appeared behind Cassie. “What are you talking about?”
Michael beamed. “Perfect. Now we just need Lia.”
Cassie eyed the bed. “I don’t know how you’re planning on making this work.”
“I was thinking we just pile,” Michael said. “Dean can go on the bottom.”
“What?” Dean asked.
Celine snorted.
“We’re all going to cuddle up in this bed,” Michael told Dean. “And you’re on the bottom.” He turned and surveyed the bed critically. “I’d say we could fit three, maybe four across. We could get someone curled up on the bottom, and then⎼⎼”
“This is a bad idea,” Dean said.
“Nonsense, Redding. It’s my best idea yet. Watch.” He crawled over Sloane and squeezed in between her and the wall. “It’s even better than I thought. There’s room for another person back here.”
“I’ll squeeze back there,” Cassie volunteered.
Lia appeared in the doorway as Cassie climbed over both Sloane and Michael and fit herself in against the wall. “What are you doing?”
“Who’s next?” Michael asked cheerfully.
Celine took the spot on the other side of Sloane. Dean, albeit somewhat reluctantly, crawled onto the end of the bed and rested his head by Cassie’s chest. Lia watched them with a half amused look on her face. “You do all realize we just woke up, correct?”
“We’re bonding,” Michael said. “Come on. Join the slumber party.”
Lia smirked. “Mind if I top you?”
“No sexual jokes,” Dean ordered.
Lia climbed on the end of the bed and leaned on Michael’s chest, comfortably fitting in like a puzzle piece.
“See?” Michael said proudly. “We all fit.”
“Barely,” Cassie said.
“A win is a win, Colorado. Don’t ruin this for me.”
Veronica Sterling woke up around noon. She checked all the kids’ rooms, besides Sloane’s, and didn’t find them anywhere. Finally, she peeked in Sloane’s room. All six of them were curled up together on the bed. Sloane had her arm wrapped around Celine. Dean was breathing softly into Cassie’s chest. One of Michael’s hands was resting on Sloane’s arm, the other on Lia’s head. All six of them were really, truly asleep.
She noted the lack of noise from Sloane. All throughout last night, when Veronica had stayed with her, Sloane had never been completely silent. She had been either unable to catch a breath or softly moaning from little aches and pains the fever had caused. Now, however, the only sound coming from her was soft breathing and the occasional little incomprehensible sleep sound.
Veronica smiled to herself. It looked like the fever was finally breaking.
She left the team exactly where they were and let them sleep.