Word Prompt: Forest

Plot Generator—Phrase Catch: To each his own.

not beta'd. all recognizable characters belong to SM.

Oh...no.

This had escalated rather quickly. Realizing the stranger didn't have much time, I grabbed his leg and started dragging him across the hard wood floors. He wasn't light though, and half way to the stairs I realized...that they were stairs. The bathroom was upstairs. If I was having a hard time hauling him across a flat surface, getting him up a flight of stairs would be impossible.

Dammit, Uncle Phil. Aren't log cabins supposed to be one story? Cottage-like?

There had to be something I could do.

Gritting my teeth, I dragged him into the living room and put him on the carpet, as close to the fireplace as was safe. I added a couple more logs and stoked it before replacing the screen.

And then, trying not to panic, I fumbled for my phone and called the one person who could help right now.

"Bell?"

"Rose, hey. You need to be in nurse mode right now."

"Uh, hi. How's it going? Cabin fever set in yet?"

"This is an emergency. I need you to stop messing around."

"Shit. What?"

"There's this guy -"

"In the middle of the forest?!"

"And he just, I think he has frostbite or hypothermia or something. He -"

"Not the time, Al," Rose muttered.

"What?"

"Alice. She wanted to know if he was hot."

"No," I half screamed. "He's cold! Very, very cold! I can't get him upstairs and he's blue and he probably needs a bath -"

"No. No bath. If he's blue he's probably already experiencing mild to moderate hypothermia and that could put him into shock. Didn't Charlie teach you this? Common sense, Bell."

"Common sense to a nurse, maybe. Which is why I called you," I said. "So what do I do?"

"Wait, is he awake?"

"Just passed out."

"Not good. Is there a fireplace?"

"Yes."

"Is it going?"

"Yes. I already put him there."

"Good. Heater?"

"Of course."

"Keep him by the fire, cover him with blankets, turn up the heater, and make him tea or something hot."

"What about body heat?"

"Like your body heat? Have you been watching Tristan and Isolde again?"

"Goodbye, Rose. Thanks."

"Body heat can help!" she called, right as I hung up.

I tossed the football blanket over the stranger and checked his shoes to see if they were wet. They were. Sneakers. What had he been thinking? I eased them off, socks too, and tucked the blanket around him. Jogging upstairs, I grabbed a couple of heavy comforters from the linen closet and brought them down so that I could cover him more efficiently. He was shivering now. He hadn't been a few minutes ago, and I didn't know what to think.

Halfway through my mission to make tea, Rose called back.

"Hey."

"Hey. Did he wake up?"

"Not yet. I'm making tea. And I turned the heat up. A lot." It had been relatively high before, but now the cabin was becoming rather toasty.

"Okay...you know, you could call 911, too."

"Yeah, but, we're snowed in. I don't know how long that would even take."

"Did I mention what a bad idea this trip was?"

"Several times, Negative Nancy." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "It wasn't so bad until now. Anyway, imagine if he'd come and no one was here. He'd have died out there. Everything..." Something welled up inside of me, putting my words on pause. "Everything happens for a reason."

"Maybe." Rose was quiet for a moment. "I guess...the idea of it kind of creeps me out, being so far away from everything. Being that isolated - for three weeks - sounds like torture."

"To each his own."

"Right. Anyway, you're not alone anymore, are you?"

"Guess not." The water began to boil. I tossed several teabags in, figuring I'd make a bunch at once. "I really hope he pulls through, Rose. I'm kind of freaking out, here."

"He'll be okay," Rose said, quietly. "And so will you. Go warm him up."

"Okay."

"Keep me updated. And if things get worse, just call 911. Even if it takes them awhile."

"Okay."

We disconnected, and I carried the tea into the living room.

"Hey," I whispered, sitting beside the pile of blankets. I could just barely make out his face. "Can you hear me?"

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't wake. Putting the tea down, I reached beneath the blankets and found his hands. They were still so cold. Feeling a little like a pervert, I wiggled into the blanket pile until we were almost touching. I took his hands and placed them beneath my hoodie, flinching when his cold skin touched mine. His clothes still felt damp, though, and I knew that couldn't be good.

His sweatpants were worse than his sweatshirt, thankfully. Those seemed easier to get off.

"Can you hear me?" I whispered, poking him.

No response.

"Hey. I have to take your pants off. So you can get warm."

Nothing.

"Just do it, Bella," I told myself, sitting up. I tucked the stranger in from the waist up and maneuvered myself to his feet so I could tug on his pants. Thank God he wasn't wearing jeans. They would've been a disaster, especially when wet.

Still, it wasn't easy. His boxers started to slide down with his pants, forcing me to stop and yank them back up. I wished more than ever that Rose and Alice were here. We'd probably be laughing about all of this.

But it was just me, and the severity of the situation coupled with my aloneness crowded out any amusement.

Eventually I got his pants - and just his pants - off. I hung them over the side of the couch, grabbed a pillow, and got back down on the ground, snuggling beneath the blankets. It was almost too warm, but it felt good.

I put the stranger's hands back on me, aligning our bodies so that maybe my warmth could transfer to him. His shivering had stopped. And it was hard to tell in the low light, but I thought his coloring had returned to normal. I hoped.

the response to chapter one warmed me more than canoodling beneath a blanket by the fire. thanks, guys. much love.

xoxo