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As tragic as it is, the capsizing really isn't anyone's fault.
The ship was well-maintained, with regular checks on even the tiny, insignificant pieces that couldn't cause anything. The crew was fully staffed and paid generously enough to give a shit. They weren't Shoreline-level, Nadine had said, but they were close. High praise coming from her, truly. And normally, that's a relief, or at least something Chloe doesn't have to waste her time thinking about.
But now, on an island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, it means she can't even yell at the presumably-dead spirit of whoever's fault it is to vent her frustrations.
So far, it's just her and Nadine who made it to this island. It doesn't mean there's no other survivors, especially if there's enough of these islands everywhere, but Chloe doesn't have the energy to focus on that. Not with how she'd woken up to seawater splashed in her face and Nadine, stern as ever, telling her they need to find shelter now.
Nadine saved her life. She should be grateful. Hell, she is grateful. And Nadine's probably right when she says that exposure's the quickest way to die in a situation like this, that this needs to be their first priority. But she's exhausted, her muscles aching like that time she fell out of a helicopter and only survived by grabbing the ladder they'd (stupidly) left dangling. Nate had been the one to re-locate her shoulder, which had probably not helped. She finds herself telling Nadine this exact story, less out of a desire to seem cool, like when she told it to Harry, or to exploit someone's sympathy, like when she'd talked to Elena. (The former had worked. The latter had not.)
"It's a closed reduction," Nadine says.
"I don't follow."
"It's not called relocating your shoulder. It's called a closed reduction."
Chloe huffs out a breath as she picks up some mostly-dry wood to use. She knows Nadine resorts to simple facts when she's stressed, or, for that matter, when she's having too good of a time to bother even pretending with social niceties like not correcting someone in situations where you're likely to die, but it doesn't mean Chloe's a good enough person to respond with grace. "One, I don't actually care right now. Two, why the hell is it called a closed reduction?"
"Setting a bone is called reducing it, sometimes. In medicine. Same for joints. And it's closed because it doesn't require surgery."
"Oh."
Conversation sort of fizzles out after that. The island they've found themselves stranded at is, all things considered, decently survivable. There are trees they can get shade under, some bird nests, and even some pots and pans from the ship they can use to collect water, since the sky's still gray like there's rain left. Absurdly lucky, considering the ship had been torn practically in half in that storm.
She could have sworn the lightning was targeting the crack in the ship once everything had gone to shit, making it worse, but that's ridiculous.
By the time they find a cave that's got enough space to set up a lean-to to protect from the worst of the wind, the storm's either blown back towards them or an entirely new one's started, and they're both soaked through and irritable before they get the lean-to blocking them from the wind. And it's cold, too. Seriously cold, like it's not barely past summer.
"Any progress on that fire?"
"Frazer, I am working on it," Nadine says, shooting her a glare. Chloe rolls her eyes when she looks back down. Nadine mutters something in Afrikaans that's probably less than flattering, so she can assume she saw. At the first sparks, Nadine looks up at Chloe with a smug expression. "See?"
"Yes, yes, very grateful, now make room."
They don't have any dry blankets or, for that matter, any fabric at all, so they're both stripped down to their underwear, clothes all scattered around the other side of the fire to dry. Chloe's wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to warm up even the slightest bit faster, shivering like they're in the Arctic rather than somewhere near Japan, staring into the fire.
Then again, she doesn't know currents. Maybe they're closer to Russia now?
Nadine tentatively touches her shoulder; Chloe thinks she manages to hide how startled she is. Her hand isn't that warm, not like it normally is. “Frazer, you're freezing."
"Well-aware of that, actually, thank you!"
"Come here."
Chloe arches a brow at her, though she doubts the haughty expression is even the slightest bit convincing; her teeth are chattering loud enough that it's nearly drowning out the rain outside. "Presumptuous of you, no?"
Nadine scoffs. "If you want to freeze to death, be my guest."
Chloe's avoided things that are good for her to "win" petty squabbles she doesn't care about before; it's practically a requirement of being friends with half the treasure hunters she's worked with over the years. But turning down a warm and willing person to cuddle with to avoid hypothermia would be a new low.
Also, it's not exactly like getting close to Nadine will be a hardship.
Chloe feels shy for the first time in awhile, even though she's not planning to, like, make a move or anything. She would very much like to not die, and she'd rather not get rejected and then have to spend an entire holding her, being held by her, or risk literally dying. But she's done harder things than this (that's what she said), and she shifts closer.
Nadine sighs and pulls her closer in one shift movement. It's a relief in more ways than one. One, being this close to Nadine Ross is any adventurer's dream, just look at her. Two, holy fucking shit, she was so goddamn cold. Nadine's probably not as warm as she's supposed to be for a healthy human, but she's certainly running hotter than Chloe right now.
"How are you still so warm?"
"Muscle, or something," Nadine says, voice a little breathless.
"You alright? I didn't elbow you or anything?”
"No, no, you're fine."
Chloe smirks, settles in. "So muscle or something?"
"I don't know everything. Just some fun facts."
"You were the type of kid who got those trivia books filled with useless information, weren't you?"
"...I wouldn't call it useless."
Chloe laughs. Nadine's arms get tighter around her, just for a second. She could fall asleep like this. If it weren't for the thunder, or the fact that they're lying on literal rocks. "Do you think our clothes are dry enough to use as a pillow?"
"Probably not."
"Damn."
They sit in a companionable silence, tension of the rest of the day broken by huddling for warmth, apparently. But Chloe's not used to letting silences sit for too long, not since Nadine came into her life and she found herself with an honest-to-God partner she trusts. "...how do you rate our chances of getting out of this?"
"Hm. Solid eight out of ten. Got to be close enough to a larger landmass to sustain a bird population of this size."
Chloe snorts. "Animal facts saving the day."
"Besides, it's not a huge surprise we ran into storms. I have a bunch of protein bars in my pack. Only half actually made it through since the pack got torn at some point, but we won't starve right away."
"Oh, I could kiss you!"
Nadine shifts a little under her, and doesn't say anything. Whether it's because of the fire or because she's flustered, she feels just that slightest bit warmer. Chloe smirks, rolls so that they're spooning. "You alright, Chloe?"
"Yeah," Chloe says. "Just tired. Good night."
She'd mostly meant it as an excuse to cuddle more, but the work of the day starts catching up with her. Still, she's fairly sure that when she hears fondness in Nadine's words, it's not just her sleep-addled brain talking. "Sweet dreams."