Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of them.
Note: My first Glee fic. Yay, something finally broke my writers' block! I'm still working on getting their voices "right" so I really appreciate any suggestions and may make a few small changes (nothing that should drastically affect the story) here and there to improve this as I go...Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy.
A Bit Late
We are going to be so late.
I can already hear Miss Rachel Berry's inevitable hissy fit as she accuses me of single-handedly costing us Regionals because I was inconsiderate enough to have a flat tire. Like it's my fault that we had to drive past the scene of an accident that left copious amounts of debris sprinkled across the highway? I cannot believe that the highway patrol has not yet done anything about cleaning up the mess. Clearly the accident didn't just happen since no one is hanging around! Where are your priorities, people?
I thought that we were lucky to get through the bits of metal and glass unhindered, but here we are less than two miles later and I'm at the side of the road with my front tire completely blown.
And me without my coveralls.
"Aw hell," Mercedes bitches as she kicks at the tire angrily. Maybe that will scare it into coming back to life.
Sadly, no.
"It's okay," I assure her. "I have a jack."
She raises an eyebrow.
"And a spare," I add, ignoring her skepticism. I've changed so many tires that I can practically do it in my sleep.
"Everything okay?" Tina asks, glancing from me to Artie, who has managed to sleep through everything thus far, and then back to me. I can almost hear her silently calculating just how we're going to get Artie back to town if the car isn't okay.
"It's just a flat," I assure her as I take off my Etro jacket and fold it carefully before placing it on the seat. Should I take off the shirt? I'm not wearing a T, and it's not like I'm not an expert at getting grime and grease out of pretty much any kind of fabric, but it'll be several hours before I can tend to it…
"A flat what?" Brittany asks and I can't help but smile at her honest confusion. Unfortunately, Santana is not here to interpret, so I inform her about our flat tire. I leave Tina to explain why that is a bad thing.
"I'm not getting any reception out here," Mercedes groans as she flips her phone shut.
Tina's brow furrows as she checks hers, then Artie's, with the same result.
"It's okay," I repeat as I unbutton my dress shirt-it's just not worth the risk, getting it ruined. Besides, it would be quite a faux pas to wear a soiled Etro in public.
I bite back a sigh as I see Tina chew her lip in response to my assurances. I try not to cringe as I consider the damage she's doing to that lip. I have some balm and gloss that might help repair the damage.
But what's with all the skepticism? Does no one remember Hummel Tire & Lube? No one?
After I've safely secured my shirt and jacket (and retrieved the package of moist towelettes from my bag, ready for a quick cleanup!) I head around back of the Navigator to retrieve the jack and spare, trying to ignore the way Mercedes' other eyebrow has gone up. I feel my cheeks heating up as her eyes flick down at my bared chest momentarily.
"I didn't want to ruin my shirt," I explain, though it should be obvious.
"You going to ruin your pants?" she queries.
I suspect she's teasing me, but it's not like I haven't already thought about it! Of all the days to have forgotten to bring along an extra garment bag! At least then I would've had something that I could kneel on. Oh, the sacrifices one must make sometimes.
"Bow chicka bow wow!" Mercedes sings out, confirming my theory that she is, indeed, mocking me.
I don't dignify her with a response but get right to work. Or would get right to work if I hadn't forgotten to grab the tire iron. I lean in Brittany's open window and call to Tina. "Can you get me the tire iron? It's right behind your seat."
"I thought he said it was already flat. Why does he need an iron?" I hear Brittany quietly asking as Tina gets out of the Navigator, bringing me the lug wrench. I take it from her and get to work on loosening the lug nuts. I'll have to soak my hands extra long tonight to make sure calluses don't develop.
I can't help but wince as I have to get down to secure the jack in place. Maybe I should've taken the pants off after all. They may not be my best pair, but it would be embarrassing if they got too messed up. And I am wearing boxers…but they're silk and just aren't meant to take such abuse. Alas, the pants must stay on. As soon as the jack is properly lined up, I get up and dust myself off hoping the damage isn't too severe.
I wonder if there'll be some place I can shower when we get to the auditorium. Not that there'll be time to wash up properly before the competition, I lament as I begin quickly cranking the jack, lifting the car.
"Stay still until I tell you to move," I command Brittany. I know I should get everyone out of the car first, but there's just not time to deal with getting Artie situated in his chair only to have to get him back in a few minutes later. Besides, judging from the grin on her face, it's apparent that Brittany is enjoying the ride.
I change out the tire, secure the bolts and lower the car in what has to be my personal record time. I can't resist flashing Mercedes and Tina a smug grin as I finish up. Only a little dirty and not a single broken nail. Ha.
"Need some help with that?" an unfamiliar voice calls out as I heft the flattened tire and prepare to throw it into the back. I almost drop the tire as I whirl around to see two men hiking toward us.
What were they doing way out here? And on foot? There's nothing around for miles. Except that accident a couple miles back, I realize. But then wouldn't they have stayed with the car? Or at the very least they would've gotten the rest of the wreckage out of the road so that innocent Navigators don't have to suffer tire damage!
I glance toward the woods, trying to tell if there was maybe a house tucked back a little ways or something. But I see no signs of one. Which leaves either they're from the wreck or they just happen to be out here hiking. But the men are not dressed for hiking, I realize quickly, noting the grubby sandals one of the men is wearing. Something isn't right about this.
"No thanks, I've got it!" I inform them brightly, doing my best to not sound suspicious, though the little laugh I unintentionally let out probably gives me away. I glance at Mercedes and Tina, who are both watching the approaching men warily. "Just a little flat, but it's all taken care of," I add.
The sandal man laughs. "Damn. You been sucking on helium, kid?" I scowl, but before I can retort his friend gives him a not-so-subtle jab, all the while continuing to watch me with a big phony grin spreading grotesquely across his face. I feel slightly ill as they both seem to be looking us all over, sizing us up. I can feel the hair at the back of my neck stand up as Smiley's focus settles back on me.
"Don't suppose you all could give us a lift into town," he asks as he stops just a couple feet away. Even if they didn't both creep me out a bit, or if his friend hadn't already ticked me off a little bit by teasing me about my voice, Smiley makes the decision easy for me when he spits onto the ground beside me.
Gross.
"I'm sorry…We just don't have time. We're a bit late already," I apologize hastily as I hoist the tire into the back and quickly shut the door. "We could call someone for you," I suggest as I move back to the front of the Navigator, trying to act casual, even though I can feel in my gut that these guys aren't going to just take no for an answer. I grab a moist towelette and begin washing my hands, sparing a glance at Tina and Mercedes.
Tina's eyes widen and her jaw drops slightly at the same time that Mercedes gasps, raising her hands slightly. That can't be good.
I gulp as I look back toward the men.
I swear that my heart stops. I can feel the blood draining from my face and my legs suddenly feel weak. There's a part of me that has always feared being in this position, part that's *known* that someday it would happen to me. I always figured, though, that it would be because some Neanderthal just couldn't accept that I refuse to change just to fit into his version of who I should be. But this…this was just me being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And just me having a gun pointed directly into my face.
After a few moments my heart starts beating again. I lick my lips as my brain races to come up with the right reaction.
"You can take it," I offer them. "Keys are in the ignition," I continue, the words coming to me slowly. My eyes dart to Sandals, who grins back at me as he takes a step closer. I step back. "Take it and go." There's something wrong with that plan, I realize almost immediately and I can feel the panic rising as the defect springs to mind. The words start coming faster as I try to remedy it. "Just let us get my friends out, first. Artie...my friend. He's got a wheelchair; it'll just take a minute for us to get it out of the back and...Brittany, you need to get out."
"We just don't have time. We're a little bit late already," Smiley throws my words back at me. He shoves me out of his way as he heads for the driver's seat. "We'll just have to take him with us for a while."
Oh, God. No. No, that can't happen. I grab the man's arm and try to stop him. "No. Just let us get him out."
"Let go of me, kid," he demands, and I try not to notice the way he's pointing the gun at me again.
"Please. We'll be quick. W-we don't even need the chair," I can hear the desperation in my voice as I beg him. Mercedes and I can carry him back to town if we have to.
I realize that Brittany hasn't gotten out yet. Why isn't she getting out?
The man actually laughs, ignoring my pleas as he shoves me away, hard enough to send me sprawling to the ground. As I scramble to get back up I hear Mercedes and Tina echoing my pleas, but the men are both already getting into the Navigator.
I can't help but gasp with dismay as Smiley tosses my Etro ensemble out of the car. But I can't dwell on that because Artie and Brittany are still inside. I grab for Brittany's door, but it's locked from the inside. "Brittany," I cry out. "Open the door!"
The car starts moving.
For a brief moment I consider letting them go. That would be the smart thing for me to do, after all. I'm safe. Mercedes and Tina are safe. Brittany probably doesn't even know she's in danger. And it's not like she would've done anything to save me if our positions were reversed…well, okay that's only because she wouldn't realize I was in danger. And it's not like I didn't try to stop the carjackers from taking off with Brittany and Artie. I tried. What was I supposed to do? They had a gun.
Staying safe would be the smart thing. But I can't do it. I have to do something, anything to stop these creeps from taking off with my friends. Take my car, fine-well, not fine (my baby!), really, but in the great scheme of things, it's the least of my worries.
I can't help but think about how at any moment Artie will wake up and find himself trapped in this nightmare. He'll be helpless if they leave him stranded without his chair. I don't even want to think about what they'll do if they *don't* leave him stranded somewhere. And then there's Brittany…she's always fairly helpless. I'd hate to think what these guys might do to her when she pushes them past their patience limit. And I have little doubt that she will. Why didn't she get out when she had a chance? Not that I want Artie to be alone,but…
I'm not sure where the idea even comes from, but as I run alongside the Navigator I yell out as loud as I can, "'Cedes, call 888-8-ONSTAR! They can disable the car!" Or they could if I actually had OnStar service. I didn't even have any idea if that was the right number to call. Fortunately that doesn't matter because Smiley's buying my bluff. The Navigator stops moving.
Even though there is no cell (or OnStar) service, Mercedes follows my lead and flips her phone open to dial the number.
I know I am shaking as the door is flung open and Smiley steps back out, swearing as he grabs my arm roughly. I can't breathe as I feel his gun pressing against my forehead. I hope it doesn't leave a mark.
"Toss the phone over here!" Smiley demands. "Yours, too," he motions to Tina. My fear that he'll figure out there's no service dies as he simply stomps on the phones, rendering them useless.
I lick my lips and do my best to ignore the pounding in my chest and the cold metal pressed against my skin. "Go ahead and take my car," I keep my voice as level as I can while I stare into his eyes, letting him know how serious I am. "Let my friends out, or we will call as soon as we get to town. They'll disable the car in a matter of minutes." Of course if that were true, these guys would probably just kill Artie and Brit if it happened. So there's the tragic flaw in my plan. Damn not having time to think things through! I silently pray that they'll buy my bluff anyway.
And it seems that at least one of them is buying; I can hear Sandals swearing and I cringe as he slams his fist against the dashboard.
But Smiley holds steady. "What's to stop you from calling anyway? You seriously trying to tell me that you'll just let me take off with your Mommy and Daddy's car?"
My eyes narrow at the man's assumption, but I force myself not to snap at him. "Fine. Y-you can take me," the words spill out before I have a chance to fully consider. There's a slight quiver in my voice betraying the fear I've been trying so hard to hide, but I keep my chin up, letting him know I might be scared but I'm not backing down.
"And your friends still make the call," he retorts. "Maybe we should just kill you all now."
"We're already late," I cringe inwardly as my voice squeaks a little bit. "If we don't call in soon and m-my dad'll have the service turn on the tracker. You won't get far." Smiley grits his teeth; I can see the anger in his eyes as he tightens his grip on my arm. "T-take me and I'll call him. Once we're away from my friends," I bargain.
"Kurt, no!" I hear Mercedes hiss, but I ignore her. She starts to step closer, but stops as the gun swings toward her. My heart leaps into my throat and I try not to imagine the gun going off and killing my best friend. Oops. Too late for not thinking that.
"I'm the only one with the code to stop them from disabling the car if someone calls OnStar," I spit out quickly, sweetening the deal and drawing Smiley's attention back to me.
"We just need a few hours," Smiley seems to be talking to himself. And then he makes his decision and I find myself being hauled into the Navigator and roughly shoved into the driver's seat. "We let your friends go when we're safe. Do anything to call attention to us before that and the deal's off."
Sandals moves into the back seat beside Brittany as Smiley sits beside me, his gun still pointing menacingly in my direction.
My hands are shaking as I fumble to restart the SUV.
I can hear Mercedes and Tina calling out after us as we start moving, leaving them behind.
Sorry, Miss Berry. It appears that we are going to be a bit late…
