Tom is tired, keyed up, and hanging too close to Neil, touching the small of his back as they retrace his steps. It's stupid, selfish, but Neil was okay, okay enough to make it all the way home and back out here insanely fast. Little blessings, he thought, swinging his pack down, a few coils of rope, a canteen.

"You guys need water?" he asked, peering down the jagged hole in the ground. He's already tying the canteen to a rope, lowering it down, lest he toss it in blind and give someone a concussion on top of everything else.