Suddenly the pressure on him is gone and Jack finds he's alone on the floor, and pretty much everything hurts. His face feels raw and his eyes are smarting and he clumsily brings a handful of snow to it. The cold feels soothing but it strays near his neck and comes away red, though the second and third handfuls have less as his bare toes curl miserably away from the still-alight pieces of what had been the fire.

He hurts inside too, and that can't be soothed with snow and cold.

Jack slowly gets to his feet feeling clumsy and disoriented and it takes him two tries to pick up his staff. The door is still closed and it takes more effort than it should to realize that Oliver had gone out the window and he follows, and the wind is ready to catch him when he almost falls out of it.