900 Follower Special - Sledding

The hill was steep, covered in a fresh, blindingly white sheet of snow. It was a winter wonderland, currently being ruined by the loudest group of people in the hemisphere.

At the very bottom of the slope, standing like two gargoyles guarding the gates of hell, were Captain Maxim Vasnev and Lieutenant Roman Sokolov. They were the only ones not moving. Both were dressed in thick winter coats, their arms crossed over their chests, radiating an aura of stoic disapproval as they watched their "kids" ruin the serenity of nature.

Maxim held a thermos of steaming coffee. Judging by the fact that he hadn't frozen to death yet, and the faint smell of ethanol, it was definitely 50% vodka.

"We are elite special forces," Maxim grumbled, his breath puffing out in a white cloud. "We topple regimes. We hunt terrorists. And now... we watch grown men slide on plastic."

Roman stood silently beside him, his face buried in a scarf so only his icy blue eyes were visible. He watched Breaker screaming at a piece of blue plastic halfway up the hill. Roman slowly, deliberately, rolled his eyes.

"It's morale," Roman mumbled, his voice muffled. "allegedly."

Up on the slope, it was anarchy.

"Come on! Move legs! Is good exercise!"

Bogi was trudging up the hill like a runaway snowplow. He was wearing his usual bomber jacket over five layers of sweaters, looking twice his normal size. In one hand, he was effortlessly dragging a massive wooden sled. In the other, he had a firm grip on {{user}}'s arm, practically towing them up the incline.

"You are breathing hard!" Bogi boomed, looking back at them with a wide, goggled grin. "Why you stop? We are almost at top!"

He hauled the sled over a bump and leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low shout.

"You look... nervous. You scared of hill? Of gravity?" He laughed, a sound that shook snow off the nearby pine trees. "Do not be scared! You are with Bogi! You should only be scared if you were under sled! Come, sit!"

To {{user}}'s left, a different drama was unfolding. Breaker was standing with his arms crossed, glaring at a neon green plastic saucer.

"I'm not getting on this fucking thing," Breaker snarled, kicking a chunk of ice. "It's a goddamn piece of plastic shit. And I'm freezing my nuts off."

"Aww, look at that," Cole chirped, leaning on a tree and flashed a challenging smirk. "The big bad Breaker is scared of a little velocity. It's okay, man. We know you're delicate. You can go stand with 'Mom and Dad' at the bottom if you want."

Breaker's eye twitched violently. "I ain't scared of shit, Miller! It's just fucking stupid!"

"You're acting like a pussy," Cole said casually, shrugging. "I bet Bee hits the jump before you do. Actually, I bet Bee has more balls than you right now."

That did it. The fuse was lit.

"GIVE ME THAT FUCKING THING!" Breaker roared, snatching the plastic disc from the ground so hard it cracked slightly. "I'll smoke your ass to the bottom, you little shit! Move!"

Further up, Bee was preparing for his descent. He didn't have a sled. He had a black tactical Skedco stretcher, (basically a body drag sheet) that he laid out on the snow. He lay down on it flat on his back, crossed his arms over his chest like a corpse in a coffin, and stared blankly at the sky.

"Terminal velocity on a low-friction surface..." Bee whispered to himself. Then, without a sound, he pushed off, sliding down the hill like a darker, faster penguin.

"Okay, {{user}}! Is time!" Bogi announced, planting his giant sled at the very peak. "Sit! Sit in front! I will be... rear armor!"

He shoved them onto the wood, then piled his massive frame behind {{user}}, his legs wrapping around theirs. It felt like being strapped to a warm, chaotic grizzly bear.

"Ready?" Bogi yelled to the mountain.

Cole leaned against a pine tree next to {{user}}, a wicked, handsome smirk playing on his lips. He nudged their shoulder, his eyes sparkling with pure mischief. He leaned in close, his voice a smooth whisper.

"Hey," Cole murmured. "Watch this."

Before they could ask what he was doing, Cole’s hand moved in a blur. He scooped up a handful of wet, heavy snow, packed it into a hard ball, and launched it with professional-grade accuracy.

The snowball exploded directly against the back of Breaker’s head, sending white powder down his neck and knocking his goggles crooked.

The silence that followed was heavy. Breaker froze. He slowly stood up, his wide shoulders trembling with a rage that could power a small city. When he turned around, his face was beet-red and his eyes were full of murder.

"WHO DID THAT?" Breaker roared, his voice echoing off the trees. "WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKING SUICIDE-WISHERS DID THAT?"

Cole didn't even blink. He immediately took a step back, his face a mask of fake, wide-eyed shock. He pointed his finger directly at {{user}}.

"Whoa, man!" Cole shouted, sounding impressed as hell. "You’ve got some serious balls! I can't believe you just did that to him! You're a fucking legend!"

Breaker’s gaze locked onto {{user}}. His eye twitched violently.

"You?" Breaker hissed, taking a heavy step forward and scooping up a massive chunk of ice. "You think you’re funny, {{user}}? I’m gonna rub so much snow in your face you’ll be coughing up ice for a week!"

"OPA! SNOWBALL WAR!" Bogi screamed from the top of the hill, not caring who started it. He immediately launched a snowball the size of a dinner plate at Maxim's chest.

At the bottom of the hill, Maxim wiped a spray of snow off his coat and sighed. "Roman. Get Bee. Someone is going to get a concussion."

Breaker was already charging toward {{user}}, his hands full of snow. Cole was doubled over, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"Run, {{user}}!" Cole wheezed through his laughter. "He looks pissed!"

The chaos below was a total disaster zone. You could hear Bogi screaming something in Serbian about being a "Glorious Snow-Tank," followed by Breaker screaming a string of "fucks" so loud they probably echoed back at the base. Cole was somewhere in the middle, laughing like a maniac as he tried to kick snow into Breaker’s face mid-descent.

{{user}} sat at the very top of the ridge, hands gripping the sides of their wooden sled. From up here, the slope didn't look like "fun", it looked like a vertical drop into a cold, painful grave.

The crunch of heavy boots in the snow sounded behind {{user}}. A shadow, long and imposing, fell over them.

Maxim stood there and looked down at the three "children" currently tumbling into a snowbank at the bottom, then he looked down at {{user}}. He stood with his arms crossed over his olive-green jacket, his face etched with its usual expression of deep, soul-tired annoyance.

"You have been sitting here for three minutes," Maxim grumbled, his Russian accent thick and low. "The wood is going to freeze to the ground before you move."

He stepped closer, tilting his head as he saw their shoulders tense. A rare, tiny flicker of amusement crossed his weathered face, not a mean one, just... confused.

"Don't tell me," Maxim said, a dry, rough edge to his voice. "We have faced terrorists. We have jumped out of planes into blacked-out combat zones. And you are scared of frozen water and gravity?"

He let out a short, huffing breath that might have been a laugh if he weren't so grumpy. He looked around the empty ridge, then down at the idiots at the bottom, and finally sighed like the weight of the whole world was on his shoulders.

"Move up," he commanded.

He straddled the sled, his massive, heavy frame settling down directly behind {{user}}. It felt like being backed up against a warm, solid wall of muscle. He reached his long, gloved arms around their sides, his hands easily grabbing the rope reins in front of them. "I am too old for this shit," he muttered, mostly to himself.

He nudged {{user}} with his knees, his voice dropping to that authoritative "Captain" tone, but it felt... grounded. Safe.

"Don't say a word," Maxim growled, though he pulled {{user}} back a little closer against his chest so they wouldn't fly off. "Just scoot back."

"This is fucking stupid!" Breaker snarled, his face partially obscured by his tactical mask, his copper-red hair standing up like he’d just stuck his finger in a socket. He was currently straddling a plastic sled that looked way too small for his massive frame.

"Just sit down and shut up, Corporal!" Maxim barked from the bottom of the hill, taking a long, desperate pull from his vodka-coffee.

Breaker rolled his eyes, grabbed {{user}} by the back of their jacket, and hauled them onto the sled in front of him. "Hold on, or don't. I don't give a shit. WE’RE GOING LETHAL!"

He kicked off. It wasn't a slide, it was a goddamn launch.

The sled hit a hidden ice patch halfway down and decided it didn't want to be a sled anymore. It became a catapult. {{user}} and Breaker went tumbling, a "yard sale" of boots, gloves, and profanity, until they both landed in a tangled heap at the edge of a frozen ditch.

"JEBOTE..." Bogi yelled from the top, his voice booming. "Breaker is dead!"

"They aren't dead, Bogi, they’re just losers," Cole laughed, leaning back and laughing his head off.

Before anyone could even take a step to check on the wreckage, Bee was just... there. He didn't run, he seemed to have glided across the snow like a spooky ghost. He ignored Breaker, who was currently face-down in a snowbank and thrashing around like a hooked fish while screaming every curse word in the English language.

Bee dropped to his knees next to {{user}}, his black aviators reflecting the pale winter sun. His face mask muffled his voice, making him sound even more like a serial killer than usual.

"Pupils are reactive... heart rate is elevated... likely shock," Bee whispered, his gloved hands moving over their neck and shoulders. "Don't move. If your spine is snapped, moving will turn you into a vegetable. I have a very sharp scalpel if we need to drain a hematoma."

"Shut up. Not now," Bee muttered, though it wasn't clear if he was talking to {{user}} or the voices in his head. He pulled a small, neon-yellow plaster with a cartoon bee on it out of his kit and slapped it onto a tiny scratch on {{user}}'s forehead.

"Hey! What about me!?" Breaker roared, finally pulling his head out of the snow. He was covered in white powder, looking like a very angry powdered donut. "My fucking arm is broken! I can't feel my legs! Bee, you fucking weirdo, help me!"

Bee didn't even look back at him. He was busy unscrewing a thermos of his "healthy tea" and forcing it toward {{user}}'s lips. It smelled like wet dirt and burnt hair.

"Drink," Bee commanded quietly. "It prevents the blood from thickening during hypothermia. Breaker is fine. His vocal cords are clearly functioning, which means he has plenty of oxygen."

"WE CATCH YOU! NO ESCAPE!" Bogi roared, his massive frame charging through the snow like a runaway freight train. In his hands, he was carrying a snowball the size of a bowling ball.

Right next to him, Cole was darting around like a caffeinated ferret, a wicked grin on his face. "You’re done, kid! Breaker already ditched you to save his own ass! It's over!"

{{user}} was sprinting for their life, lungs burning in the freezing air. Behind them, they could hear Breaker somewhere in the trees, screaming profanities as he tried to unstick himself from a bush he'd tumbled into. {{user}} was alone, and the "Chaos Twins" were closing in.

Desperate, {{user}} saw a tall, dark shape standing near the edge of the woods. It was Roman. He was standing perfectly still, his arms crossed over his massive chest, staring out at the frozen valley like a gargoyle having a mid-life crisis. He looked like he wanted nothing more than for the entire world to shut the hell up.

With a final burst of speed, {{user}} dove behind him, literally using his 6'5" frame as a human shield. They grabbed the back of his heavy black coat, ducking their head.

Roman didn't move. He didn't even flinch. But inside, he was caught off guard, no one usually dared to touch him, let alone use him as a piece of cover. He looked down at {{user}}'s hands clutching his coat, then looked up at the two idiots sprinting toward him.

Bogi and Cole skidded to a halt, spraying snow everywhere. Bogi’s eyes went wide behind his orange goggles. He pulled the massive snowball back, ready to throw, but then he saw who was standing in the way.

"Uh... Bes," Bogi muttered, his voice dropping three octaves. "Move legs. We have target behind you."

"Yeah, come on, Roman," Cole added, though he took a very cautious step back. "Don't be a buzzkill. {{user}} started it! Mostly."

Roman’s expression didn't change, but his icy blue eyes narrowed into a terrifying, soul-piercing stare. He didn't like the noise. He didn't like the shouting. And he definitely didn't like Bogi and Cole right now. On the other hand, {{user}} was being quiet, and he found that significantly less annoying.

Roman slowly crossed his arms tighter, his muscles bulging under his coat. He took a half-step forward, shielding them completely from their view.

"Throw it," Roman rasped, his voice sounding like two gravestones grinding together. "Throw the snowball and see what happens to your hands."

The silence that followed was heavy. Bogi looked at the snowball. Then he looked at Roman's stare.

"I... I think I hear Maxim calling," Bogi whispered, his bravado vanishing instantly. "Is time for... for safety meeting. Yes."

"Yeah, totally," Cole agreed, nodding so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. "We'll, uh... we'll catch you later, {{user}}. Nice shield."

As the two of them scurried away like scolded puppies, Roman didn't turn around. He just kept staring into the distance, though his voice was a low rumble you could feel through his coat.

"You stay here," Roman muttered. "They might come back."

From the bottom of the hill, Maxim watched the whole thing. "The demon has a pet. How touching."

"Shut up, Maxim," Roman growled, though he still hadn't moved to push {{user}} away.