Kristoff let out a small "hmph" when Elsa's cell rang for what seemed like the millionth time since they left the house. She sighed and reached over to turn the radio off before answering, keeping one hand firmly on the wheel of her black Mercedes.

"I had another thought!" came Anna's anxious voice from the receiver.

"Well, of course you did, Anna. You've only had…" she held the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she counted on her free hand, "seven since we left the house. Ten minutes ago…" The blond beside her groaned and slid down in his seat, arms crossed, looking out the window. Elsa sighed.

"I know! But everything has to be perfect!" the redhead whined. She was driving in a blue Bug in front of Elsa and Kristoff.

"Perfect is hard to come by with only a few weeks' notice…" Elsa mumbled, slightly annoyed.

"Oh! Radio was too loud!" Anna giggled. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. Look, Anna, you need to be focused on driving. When we get to Bulda's Bakery, then you may lay all of your thoughts on me. Okay?"

Anna sighed. "Okay…"

"Focus on the road. I'm fairly certain it's going to rain any moment now. Goodbye!" She hung up, placing both hands back on the wheel just as the water droplets made themselves known. She heard a small sigh beside her and risked a glance at the broad-shouldered blond that looked like a giant in her small car. "Go ahead," she relented. "Get it out now. I know it sucks Kristoff, but I will kick your ass if you show it around Anna this week." He only grunted, sinking down further. "She's the happiest I've seen her in a while," Except when she's around you, she thought, "And although I don't like the circumstances, I can't tell her what to do."

Kristoff straightened up, turning his body as much as he could to face her, cheeks flushed half in frustration, the other in embarrassment. "Two weeks, Elsa! TWO! I've known you and Anna going on ten years now! This fake bastard waltzes in with his good looks and vault of money, sweeps her off her feet, asks her to marry him three days later? AND SHE SAYS YES?!" He turned to face forward again with a huff. "I mean, what the hell."

Elsa was silent for a moment. "You've had ten plus years to ask her the same thing, you know," she said, glancing over at him cautiously. He quickly opened his mouth to counter her careful accusation, but he didn't know what to say. She was right.

It ended in the same exact minute it began, but to Kristoff, it seemed to last a lifetime. A cacophony of gut wrenching noises sang in their ears as they watched the horror unfold. Breaks screeching, metal crunching, glass shattering. Then was the worst sound of all: complete and utter silence. Kristoff, brown eyes wide with terror, was frozen for what felt like a lifetime before he miraculously willed himself to move. Elsa's voice was only a series of pitched fuzziness as he pushed himself from the Mercedes.

The 18-wheeler stood stationary, a few feet from the deep ditch it sideswiped the little bug into. Smells of burned rubber, smoke, and gasoline clouded his senses as he stumbled down the ravine, sliding down a patch of mud before colliding, full-bodied into the top of the Bug that was on its side. "Anna!" he yelled, panic ringing clear in his voice. There was no answer. He made his way to the windshield where the glass had been blown out. He felt an unexpected sob roll through his chest when he saw her; limp, bloodied, and tangled in her seatbelt. Tears stung his eyes as he quickly pulled a knife from his back pocket. He could hear someone calling his name from the road above, but he ignored it.

"I've got you, Anna…" he choked as he cut through her seatbelt, freeing her from it. He was on his hands and knees now. Leaning through the windshield, careful not to catch on any shards of glass, he eased his hand down between her shoulder blades as far as he could go until her head was securely cradled against his shoulder. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried his best to ignore the blood on his best friend's body. Gingerly, he got a hold of her legs and got her out of the car before falling back against the steep hill, holding her securely in his arms. "Anna, please…" he whispered, lips against her temple, eyes closed in agony. She had a pulse. She was alive. Unconscious.

It was when he heard the sirens, from police, fire truck, ambulance, that he began planting soft, teary, prayerful kisses everywhere he could reach.