Heero remained inside the cockpit, noting that the temperature had to be in the single digits. His own body temperature had fallen so rapidly that he barely exhaled steam as he breathed, but in order to be able to squeeze in, he had had to shed his flight suit, and had instructed Trowa to do the same. He wasn't concerned so much for himself however; Quatre had been pinned in the Gundam for perhaps an hour with the hatch open. He pushed the fear far away as his hands busied with the ruin of metal by Quatre's left shoulder.

"If you can hear me, say my name," Heero instructed.

There was a breath, a soft whispering sound that answered him.

"Say my name," Heero repeated patiently.

"heero…" Quatre whispered, his voice pitiful and full of pain.

Heero nodded his head, satisfied. "We're going to get you out of here. Trowa's coming with a blow torch, you're tied in tight."

"sorry… so sorry…"

"Just be thankful you're in your space suit, it kept you from developing frost bite," Heero answered as a chunk of metal came loose, freeing Quatre's shoulder. He leaned out and tossed it aside, where it landed at Duo's feet.

"What can I do, Heero?"

"Go back to the cabin, there's nothing to do out here. Trowa and I will carry him back in. Prepare the kitchen table, I'm going to have to do field surgery."

"Got it," Duo called up, and then turned on his heel and ran for the cabin.

"not your fault," Quatre whispered. Heero's face was close to his, they were nearly cheek to cheek as the Japanese pilot leaned diagonally over the slender blond's frame to continue pulling debris away so they could extradite the young man from his machine. Heero didn't answer, but only began to pull at the metal with more force, grunting with effort in the cramped cockpit.

"Heero, I have the torch and a blanket," Trowa said as soon as the grapple finished pulling him up. He stuffed the blanket into the hole so they could cover Quatre while they cut away the twisted wreckage. "How badly is he hurt?"

Heero pulled the blanket through, cutting his eyes to Trowa. "Bad," he answered. There was barely room for one pilot, but now the cockpit suffered three.

"Quatre… it might get ugly in here," Heero warned as he opened the blanket, spreading it out over the slender frame. "Trowa's going to hold the fire extinguisher in case the blanket catches fire."

Quatre simply nodded his head slowly, understanding.

"I just want to prepare you."

"it's okay," Quatre whispered.

"Don't go to sleep, Quatre," Trowa spoke up as he threaded the hand held the propane torch through the bodies and twisted debris to Heero's waiting hand. He gripped the small extinguisher and held it by his side. "I have the bolt cutters at the ready," he said to Heero as he held Quatre's dimming gaze.

"Good," Heero grunted as he clicked the torch to life. The flame was too close to the blanket covering Quatre's face for his liking, but he pressed on. "Duo's getting the table ready for us, I'll cut him loose, then cut the rest of it out of him when we get him inside."

Trowa nodded as his hand went down Quatre's arm, finding his gloved hand and holding it gently.

Duo moved methodically about the kitchen, first scrubbing down the table and then throwing a clean blanket over it. He grabbed a pillow from his room and put it at one end while a large aluminum pot heated water on the stove. This was a well-stocked safe house, Wufei's doing no doubt. Wufei, always prepared for war and what it would bring. When Duo opened the large tackle box full of surgical instruments, gauze, bandaging and other assorted items, he let out a soft whistle. "Wufei, you are the best," he whispered. "Now Heero won't have to use a butter knife." The phrase would have struck him as funny had he not been serious.

"Pull, Trowa," Heero grunted. "Pull!"

There was a shriek of tortured metal and then a loud pop as it released. Two hours had passed since they began their burden of birthing Quatre from Sandrock. Heero and Trowa were panting, dripping sweat as they worked as gently and fervently as they could. Quatre had slipped in and out of consciousness while he was pressed against his seat beneath their bodies.

"He's bleeding again," Heero said. "I can't hold pressure to the wound, too much metal is in the way."

"Are his legs free?" Trowa asked. For one brief, horrible moment, he realized that he couldn't turn around and the thought of them trapped in the cockpit gave him a terrible feeling of claustrophobia. All this work and they'd suffered in vain. Quatre would die here, beneath them, finally free of the wreckage pinning him. All because Trowa couldn't turn around to get to the opening. He felt his pulse rise in his throat, hammering in his ears, his breathing growing hard in sharp pants. Heero was too busy to see his panic, Heero wasn't afraid. Trowa froze when he felt the slight pressure against his chest and he turned his head quickly, gazing down to Quatre with large eyes.

"What is it?" Trowa asked after swallowing around a thick wad of uncharacteristic anxiety jammed into his throat.

"it's okay," Quatre said, mouthing the word now more than speaking it. "calm down."

That order; patient, trusting. Trowa nodded his head, feeling foolish for a moment, but human at the same time. He wasn't depending on blind instinct in battle, he was just trying to turn around in a too tight space to escape and had made a miscalculation.

"His legs are free," Heero answered. "We can get him out."

Trowa nodded once, his hand over Quatre's still pressed to his chest. "Just a little while longer, Quatre, and then we can get inside, where it's warm."

A faint hint of a smile answered him as Quatre's lashes fluttered. Trowa turned easily and then went head first through the narrow gap. "If you can lift him up, I'll take him down."

"Just mind where he's impaled," Heero said as he put his arms beneath Quatre's shoulders and lifted him. His own body was starting to scream at him with exhausted exertion, but he pressed on. They had one harrowing moment where Quatre's thick suit caused a slight problem by not compressing down enough to allow the blond to slip through the two foot gap with its bulk. Heero didn't miss a beat as he pulled out a knife and began to cut it away from the unconscious form. Once free, Trowa held Quatre to his side and went down the rope as quickly as he could, Heero following after him. Duo was waiting for them at the door as they trudged through knee deep snow.

"The tables ready. Wufei had a surgery kit stashed away. I boiled down everything I thought you'd need, and got a station set up," he said as they bustled past him into the house. Duo shut the door against the cold night as Trowa gently laid Quatre onto the table.

"I'll cut off his clothes. Duo, when this is over, I need to put him in a tub of luke warm water."

"When Heero's sewing him up, I'll have it ready for him," Duo said grimly as he watched Heero remove Quatre's boots.