Somehow they collided with the others, coincidence, or maybe that Kismet or Karma his mother had been so fond of, nightmarish flashes of familiar faces, harsh lungs pounding with the need for air. He caught  a glimpse of Megan's hair, the red beret Brown was so fond of, running, running until he thought his lungs would burst, hearing the crash behind them as they were pursued, the Germans finding them and chasing them, spurring his feet faster and faster until his mind stopped existing and there was nothing but the chase as they head for the narrow slit of a cave mouth so close.

Simon stumbled in front of them and Jim pushed his body to the limits and beyond, an extra burst of speed powered by pure primal fear, grabbing  handfuls of the Captain's shirt and bodily hauling him upwards and onwards, literally shoving him through that narrow slit.

There was a burst of gunfire behind them and Blair screamed with a voice he didn't know he still had, using air he didn't,  sure he was hit.  He heard another scream in front of him, higher pitched, a woman's voice.

"SERENA!" Blair flung himself forwards and grabbed the woman, hauling her over his shoulder, stumbling under the weight as he forced his legs to run, knowing she was probably dying or already dead, knowing that he should leave the body behind and save himself. The knowledge lasted in his brain for precisely 1.3 seconds.

He felt Jim and Simon grab him as he fell flat on his face so agonisingly close to the cave, dragging him in, dirt and stones scraping painfully along his body and into his mouth. Then he was inside, feeling the sharp slivers of rock ricocheting away from the impact of bullets on the mouth of the cave to pepper his back and legs.

He felt himself being pulled into a fierce hug, like a frightened child and found he didn't mind at all, returning the embrace just as fiercely, ignoring the sting on his skin from the rock fragments, ignoring the dirt smeared on his face, ignoring the fact that his friend’s Beretta was drilling him a new navel. It was hard and it was desperate, but incredibly life-affirming, solid proof of existence, huddling together in a cave.

Blair waited until his eyes adjusted to the dim light before looking around, chest heaving as he dragged in air. Twenty three people were crammed into the cave, a pitiful handful of survivors from Vercors. Frightened faces peered at him in the narrow space, no light, no room, hardly any air, bodies pressed close, fear stinking the cave.  The narrow entrance prevented the Germans from entering, being held back by lone guns and pelted rocks, but it also stopped them from escaping. They were stuck, trapped, their haven destined to become their tomb.

The Germans retreated, waiting, and there was nothing left to do. Nothing but sit there and listen as their friends died around them, those who couldn't escape the town in time.

The Maquis bit their cheeks, shivering from the heat of too many bodies trapped too close, experience lending their imaginations realities far more horrible than they could have dreamed alone.

All except for Ellison.

Slumped against the cave, eyes glazed, he suddenly drew in a sharp breath.  Blair flew to his side, terrified he was hit, injured, frantically running his hands over the tense form in search of blood. Below them they could hear the faint crack of guns, odd popping sounds like children's firecrackers, adding a ghoulish merriment to the darkness of their world.  People were dying down there.

And Jim heard every sound.

Every shot, every scream, every choked dying whimper from their people in the village. The crack as the lucky ones were shot outright. The pathetic gasps from those who weren't, those who were  see-sawed or crippled, left to watch their own blood seep out onto the ground as their guts screamed in torture. The shriek of a child trapped in a building doused with flamewerfer.

He twisted against the sound, a symphony of the damned, shrieking and tearing at him from hell's mouth until he was sure he was insane. He reached out blindly, hands splaying across the cold, damp rock, reeling, searching for something to hold to, something to make it stop, just make it all stop, please.

It led his other senses into rebellion, the smell of blood and urine assaulting his nose, the dim light of the cave twisting and turning into a darkness that threatened to swallow him whole, each sensation, every fragment of his perception turning on him with vicious fangs. He felt madness tempting him, holding onto reality with the slimmest of grips, bloodied fingers slipping and sliding as he was drawn into the abyss.

 He felt a familiar warmth enfold him, a soothing sound caress his ears and fell into it, seeking some kind of succour from the death clamouring at his mind, a wailing daemon reaching out with fetid skeletal hands for his very soul.

Blair wrapped his arms around the larger man's head, pressing him to his chest, trying to act as a buffer, his body a soundproof wall, protecting against whatever it was that frightened Jim so, tears pouring down his face as he tried to understand.

And all of a sudden Jim felt peace. The screaming faded down to an unholy whispering and he burrowed deeper into Blair's body, trying to climb inside the smaller man, into the shelter he offered from the cold madness scrabbling at his brain.

"It's ok," he heard Blair's frightened whisper above his head as he was rocked, gently. "It's ok, it's ok." He felt feather-light, desperately reassuring kisses raining on his head and face, long fingers entwining with his. "Al tibahel, I'm here, I'm here..."

The screams were gone, the gunshot mere pops in the distance.  Clinging to the smaller man, Jim slowly straightened, pulling in a deep breath. He felt Blair's hands cup his face and  looked up at his face, wide-eyed,  awed that the power the little man had to keep even madness at bay.  He felt small tremors racing through the other man's frame, knowing his own was trembling just as hard,  exhaustion and fear in the soft, well-known voice.  "Are you all right?"

"Blair..." Jim hauled the Maquisard into an embrace, wrapping his arms around him, cocooning him in warmth.

"Shh, I'm here, It's all right, shh" he  felt slender fingers gently stroke his back, feeling the shakes increase as the terrified adrenaline faded. "shh, shh,"  The shakes spiked, then faded, and Blair leaned back against the damp wall, drawing his head to rest his chest. "Shh, sleep now, Jim, shh.."

Protected and loved, Jim fell into an exhausted sleep.