AN: Hi again! I hope everyone's having a good 'Nothing Burns Like The Cold Friday'! That's how I'm referring to Fridays from now until this story ends. ;) Big plans for the weekend, people? I hope so. Live life to the fullest! My plans involve going to the pool with my kids, watching the Tour de France, and packing, so I'm not real sure how big my plans are, but I leave for Germany on Monday for a soccer tournament so... wish me luck, this is a BIG one.
I'd like to thank everyone for the great response last chapter. I was a little surprised that their break-up seemed to cause such side division within the fandom. I don't pay attention to things that are written about TV shows so the only way I find out how people interpret aspects of the show is from people on this site. I'm glad I got to see people's views on what's been going on. Thank you to those of you who took time out to share your thoughts. I enjoyed it and it was very enlightening in a lot of ways. And to everyone else who alerted, favorited or guest reviewed, thank you. Continued feedback and encouragement means a lot to authors, in all forms, good or bad. Hopefully that keeps happening after what I do to you and them in chapter 2. ;) Trust! I know both sides to this argument. No one is completely blameworthy or innocent.
I could keep going, but I won't since I said I'd be short. So anyway, here is chapter 2. I'll talk to you again at the end.
Enjoy! And again, a big thanks goes out to BrittanaFan25 for her beta work!
Disclaimer: Ownership of Glee? Nope! Ownership of anything related to Brittany or Santana? Unfortunately, nothing, although when I was 19 I did own a pretty busted Black SUV like the one Santana has in this chapter, but I guess that's nothing to brag about. I stand by my statement from back then that a wax on wax off billboard, advertising bikini waxing is distracting so the accident shouldn't have been my fault. The cop didn't buy it. :( I wonder why? Seems perfectly logical to me.
Chapter 2…Cold Winds of Change
"LOOK OUT," Brittany yelled in horror as a deer streaked out in front of their car.
Santana immediately looked up from her phone to see the small fawn caught in her head lights and quickly slammed on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel to the right, causing the car's back wheels to lock and the car to slide off the side of the road, hitting a telephone pole.
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Everything that happened next took place in an instant. The snow was still falling heavily outside and Brittany watched on wide eyed and alert while the cute small deer that Santana barely managed to avoid ran off safely into the woods. After turning away from the deer she hesitated for a split second and saw that Santana's SUV appeared to be badly damaged, but it was still running, (thankfully,) pinched sideways against the telephone pole. Another split second passed, and in the back of her mind she registered a strange almost whining sound coming from the engine and saw steam slowly rising and seeping through the seams of the bent and dented hood, but she couldn't be bothered with more than a fleeting glance in that direction. She checked herself within a nano-second and made sure she was okay. She was even though her hands were shaking. That was normal… right? The crash had been scary for her and she assumed the frightened baby deer, but she was okay and so was the small fawn so she quickly scanned around the dark car to see if Santana was too.
"San," Brittany gasped after looking at Santana's unmoving, slumped body that was leaning against the side window. Brittany tried to reach for Santana to pull her back up into a sitting position, but found it impossible. Brittany's seat belt was stuck and trapping her in place. When Santana slammed on the breaks Brittany's seat belt locked, holding her safely against her seat, but for some reason it had yet to disengage. "Santana," Brittany called again, starting to panic since she hadn't gotten an immediate answer and Santana still wasn't moving. "Answer me San," she continued, frantically pulling at the clip and yanking on her buckle, trying to get free so she could get to Santana, "are you okay?"
Santana vaguely heard Brittany's voice and some rustling around in the seat beside her, but she was having trouble focusing enough to process anything. It was dark, she had a splitting headache and her whole left side was killing her. That was pretty much all she knew. When she finally managed to open her eyes her vision was a little blurry and she felt like she couldn't move, like she was trying to move under water, but something was weighing her down.
"Britt," Santana painfully moaned as she brought both of her hands up to her pounding head. Her head felt like she'd been hit with a baseball bat and all she wanted to do was squeeze her eyes as tightly as she could and either fall asleep or wait for the mind numbing pain to subside.
"I'm here San," Brittany anxiously replied, forgetting momentarily about being stuck. Hearing Santana voice, she felt more relieved than she'd ever felt in her life. To see that Santana was now coming around lessened a lot of Brittany's blinding panic and she visibly sighed, attempting to catch her shaky breath. "I'm right here. Are you okay?" She asked, ignoring the tension they'd been experiencing before the car crash and reaching over the center console to hold onto Santana's thigh. She just felt like she needed to touch and hold onto Santana, almost as if she needed to make sure she was still there and that she wasn't about to slip through her fingers.
"My head hurts," Santana groaned, reaching again to her forehead this time trying to shake the remaining spots free from her vision. She pulled her hands back slowly, trying to focus, and upon closer inspection, she noticed that her hands had something on them. It was red. She had thought the moisture on her forehead was merely sweat that had accumulated on her brow while she was out, but it wasn't.
Brittany saw it too and her eyes immediately got as big saucers. "San, you're bleeding."
"I guess I am," she responded like she wasn't really sure and touching the spot a couple of times to double check. Santana noticed the cut didn't seem to be bleeding too badly, but it was hard to tell and it still hurt like a son of bitch when she touched the knot just above her left eye brow.
"Let me see," Brittany instructed, trying to turn her body to get closer to Santana. It was then as she struggled to move that she remembered her seat belt was still trapping her.
Santana unbuckled her own seat belt so she could turn to face Brittany and as she moved she felt like she might pass out. She was dizzy and felt sick in her stomach. Blinking her eyes repeatedly she took a couple deep breaths attempting to clear the fog. When her eyes finally focused and her stomach settled enough to not be a distraction she noticed Brittany looked as white as a sheet. "Are you okay?" Santana asked, taking in how anemic Brittany looked and starting to worry that she'd been hurt during the crash.
"I'm okay," Brittany responded, reaching out awkwardly thanks to the angle she had to torque her upper body into to cup Santana's cheeks to inspect the cut. "You just scared me when you weren't moving," she said, tilting Santana's head caringly from side to side to study her from all angles. Once she was satisfied that the only visible injury Santana had sustained, thank God, was the bump and cut along her brow she finished her sentence with, "but I'm kinda stuck. I can't unhook my seat belt."
Santana briefly looked down at Brittany's seat belt while Brittany continued to hold and caress her cheeks with her warm hands. Santana was still pretty out of it so she didn't recognize that things were different now and that she should probably feel uncomfortable or upset about Brittany touching her in this way. Santana's brief hazy moment allowed Brittany's touch to soothe her. Brittany's hands were soft and comforting, and that was something Santana desperately wanted and needed right now to help hold herself together.
Brittany had always anchored Santana and even now her touch stabilized Santana both physically and emotionally. With a firm hand alongside her cheek, Brittany used her other hand to gently push Santana's hair back that had fallen in her face. Brittany made sure to pay careful attention to not get too close to the cut on the other side of Santana's head. Brittany, more than anything, didn't want to hurt Santana more than she already was. "Please, don't ever scare me like that again," Brittany said softly, continuing to lovingly stroke the delicate hairs near Santana's temple.
Santana didn't know what to say as she looked at Brittany's concern. She could see the emotion the fright had caused glistening in her eyes and Santana really just wanted to reach out and hug Brittany to prove that everything was okay and that she was sorry for scaring her. We're okay, she thought, slowly starting to lean forward, but just as she was about to reach up and hug Brittany the memory of how different things were now resurfaced, causing her movement to come to a screeching halt. They weren't a 'we' or an 'us' anymore. Brittany wasn't her girlfriend now, she was Sam's. They'd been fighting before that damn deer decided to run out into the street like some kind of suicide bomber. She was mad at Brittany, or at least she had been prior to the crash.
Santana's realization halted her movement abruptly. Brittany saw it too. She saw the exact instant Santana's demeanor changed. To someone else, Santana's subtle change might have gone unnoticed, but to someone who was an expert in all things Santana it might as well have been a neon blinking sign saying 'Beware, Dead End Ahead!' Brittany had seen that sign many times. The gentle arch of her eyebrow, the momentary widening of her eyes, the straightening of her spine, it was clear. Her walls were going back up. Brittany could see it in her body language, she could see it in her eyes, and Brittany wanted desperately to be able to do or say something to stop it from happening, but it was too late, she was already buttoned back up and retreating.
"We should call the police and tell them about the accident," Santana said, backing away and deflecting the awkward and hurtful conversation that was possibly about to take place and quickly turning away from Brittany to look around the car for her phone.
Brittany felt the immediate sting of Santana's rejection.
Santana right now, for many reasons, wasn't prepared to express her feelings for Brittany whether that was indirectly with expressions of fear for Brittany's own well being or directly with gestures of love that would include hugs and tears and pleading with Brittany to be hers again. So instead of going down that road and facing the potential heartache, she did what she does best, she suppressed her feelings and tried to appear indifferent to Brittany's own small declarations of affection. Santana saw her phone on the floor and reached down between her legs to grab it. As she reached for it, her ribs screamed at her, rebelling against the movement. Santana managed to suppress the painful groan that wanted to slip out and picked up her phone to dial 911. She put the phone to her ear using her right hand this time, only to hear silence. There was no dial tone. Santana quickly pulled the phone away from her ear to look at the display only to realize she had no service. "Son of a bitch," Santana announced.
"What?" Brittany asked, quickly being shaken out of her dejected state by the bite in Santana's tone.
"Check your phone," Santana told her, praying to God that Brittany's phone was still working. Santana didn't even want to think about the possibilities if neither of them could call for help. "See if you have service."
Brittany pulled her phone out of her sweatshirt to see that about twenty minutes ago she had received two new text messages from Sam, but other than that, she had no service either.
"Nope, no service," Brittany declared, looking questioningly at Santana. "What do we do now?" She asked weakly.
"Are you sure?" Santana asked, not quite believing they could possibly have this much bad luck.
"See," Brittany said, picking up her phone to show Santana and reaching awkwardly across her body since she was still stuck, "no bars."
Fuck! "This can't be happening," Santana groaned. First, the accident that forced them off the highway, then the GPS, then the friggen deer, and now no service, what's next? As soon as she internally said the words, she cringed because that simple phrase pretty much sounded like the ultimate jinx. What's next? Are you a fricken idiot? She thought, reprimanding herself. You can't ask shit like that! Because then what happens? You get hit with another bad thing, and then another bad thing and Santana knew they really couldn't afford anything else bad happening. They were already pretty screwed as is.
"Maybe the car's still drivable," Santana said, thinking out loud and shifting the car into reverse.
The tires immediately spun in the deep snow and the engine emitted an ear piercing, shrill sound that could have cracked anything frozen nearby. Damn it! She thought, trying again, but this time pushing the gas pedal harder and putting her weight behind the pressure.
"Fuck," Santana announced, taking her foot off the gas and slumping into her seat. "Maybe if you get out and give us a push."
"But I'm stuck," Brittany said, reminding Santana with a hand gesture to her seat belt.
"Right," Santana said to herself, quickly trying to run down possibilities that she could do on her own that could possibly get them out of this.
Without a word Santana gingerly climbed into the back seat, fighting the brief head rush she felt from her quick movement. Brittany watched and wondered, scrunching her brow in confusion. She had no idea what Santana was doing. Santana ruffled around in the trunk, throwing clothes and shoes and gym bags aside until she found what she was looking for.
"Here," Santana said, after climbing back up into the front seat and handing Brittany a small, clear plastic box. At the time, Santana had rolled her eyes thinking her dad was just being overprotective when he demanded Santana keep a small first aid kit in her car, but now she'd never been more grateful for her dad's protective instincts. "There should be scissors in there, cut the seatbelt."
Brittany did as she was told and began to cut just above the clip, but the angle was tough for her and the scissors were pretty dull.
"I can't get it," Brittany grimaced as she strained to cut through the thick nylon.
"Here," Santana said, reaching across the center console and hovering uncomfortably close to pull the seatbelt taunt across Brittany's lap. The tension between them was palpable as Santana leaned in and pulled on both sides of the small tare while Brittany attempted to cut the rest of the way through the durable fabric. They could both feel the other woman's warm, labored breath tickling the sensitive skin on the side of their necks. It was distracting to say the least and it made Santana want to shiver.
The amount of time and strength it was taking for Santana to pull on the seat belt was causing some serious pain in her left side, she was practically panting in an attempt to fight the rising ache, but she held firm seeing that Brittany was now almost all the way through. Finally, after another minute or two and a lot of heavy breathing the last of the fibers tore free and Santana collapsed back into her seat, clutching her sore mid-section.
"Are you okay?" Brittany asked with concern, immediately seeing the grimace on Santana face.
"I'm fine," Santana deflected, shifting in her seat to find a less painful position. "We should see if you can push us out now."
"First, we need to get something on your head to stop the bleeding," Brittany said, wide eyed and alarmed, seeing a slow trail of blood rolling down the side of Santana's face. On instinct, Brittany reached out towards Santana only to have Santana swat her hand away.
"I told you, I'm fine."
Brittany again felt the immediate sting of Santana's rejection and pulled back. They sat there for a moment in silence. Santana was inwardly cursing her thoughtless actions. She was angry about the situation they were in, pretty much all around, and she'd lashed out at Brittany when all she had wanted to do was help. That's all Brittany ever wanted to do, Santana reminisced, bitter sweetly. She felt guilty for hurting Brittany's feelings, but she still couldn't manage to get out of her own way long enough to apologize or let go of her anger towards the girl. Pride was a bitch! She was just feeling too hurt right now.
Brittany, for her part, also sat there blaming herself. She let Santana break up with her even when she knew it wasn't what either of them really wanted. Why couldn't I just have spoken up when I had the chance? She thought, wilting into her seat.She'd also been the one who hadn't told Santana about Sam. Why can't I speak my mind when it matters? What am I so afraid of? She thought, questioning all her actions up until this point. And today… Brittany knew Santana would never say no if she asked her for help, regardless of the risk or her anger. This is my fault; I have to fix this somehow. This all started by me not speaking up in the first place. It ends now! It was now time to take a stand even if it was about four months late.
"Look, I know you're mad at me," Brittany began.
Santana instantly stiffened, hearing a stern tone Brittany rarely used.
"And I deserve it. Well, some of it, not all…" Brittany said, rethinking about all the anger Santana was directing at her. Not all of it was fair. Brittany knew that Santana was beating herself up too and that she was projecting that anger she felt about her own mistakes onto Brittany. "But, we're here now, and all we have is each other, so you're going to let me put something on that cut and then we're going to figure out how to get out of here, together. Understood?"
Santana was shocked to hear Brittany talk to her like that. She didn't talk to people with that tone very often and it had never been directed at her before, but whenever Brittany used that tone, she meant business. Plus, she was normally right so Santana decided to give in and stop fighting Brittany, at least about this.
"Fine," Santana said stubbornly. She still wasn't prepared to drop the rest of her anger just yet, but Brittany did have point. This was happening, and they were stuck here, and it was doing no good fighting with Brittany the entire way. They needed each other.
"Good," Brittany said with a small smile, reaching into the first aid kit to get some gauze.
"Hold this on," Brittany instructed, gently placing the gauze pad on top of the cut for Santana to hold. After Santana took over applying pressure their eyes met, scared and apologetic. They could both see the years of dedication in each other's eyes. It made it a little easier for Santana to loosen the grip on her metaphorical walls, and accept help, but it almost made it harder too. Knowing that Brittany felt something, but not being able to act on that feeling or take comfort in Brittany, hurt a lot. It was a completely foreign feeling having Brittany, but not actually having her. Even when Brittany was with Artie it still felt like Brittany belonged to her, but something about this felt different, it felt… she thought… She couldn't quite figure out the right word for what she felt, but it definitely felt different. Brittany's locking stare eventually became too painful and Santana couldn't hold it any longer for fear of losing her composure all together, so she looked away and forced her gaze out the window at the silently falling snow.
Brittany again felt a twinge in her chest as Santana turned away, but she was determined to try and make things right as she finished doctoring Santana's cut. She carefully tried to wipe away the excess blood on Santana face and when the gauze she was holding became too saturated, (which was pretty scary since Santana had lost that much blood,) Brittany reached into the kit to grab another. Santana must be in a lot of pain, she thought, seeing the bloody pile of gauze on the dashboard growing. It also didn't go unobserved to Brittany that the statement was probably true on a more emotional level, Santana was definitely in pain. After Brittany felt like she'd cleaned all the blood she could, there were still hints of blood stain on Santana's beautiful skin, but without anything more that's all Brittany could do so she reached into the box and ripped some tape to secure a clean piece of gauze to Santana's head.
"All done," Brittany declared after gently smoothing the taped gauze into place over the knot on Santana's forehead. In that moment Brittany had to restrain herself. She even started to lean in to place a delicate kiss on Santana's forehead before she realized what she was doing. Thankfully, she stopped herself before completing the action. She couldn't do that anymore and that knowledge was painful.
"How do you feel?" she asked, distracting herself.
"Hurts like Hell" Santana said honestly, not particularly speaking about her head, although that hurt like Hell too, "but at least you've stopped the bleeding," she said with a small appreciative smile.
And Santana was right. The bleeding did seem to have stopped, both physically and emotionally. They both dropped some of their guard which felt liberating, but there was still a lot of pain in their hearts and they both knew there was no gauze or medicine in existence that could take away that type of pain.
"I guess we should see if we can get the car unstuck," Brittany said, waiting to see if Santana was going to say something else before making a move to break their sad unspoken conversation. The connection they shared never needed words to be understood, they just looked at each other and could tell what the other was thinking, but now that familiarity just felt sad. Brittany knew Santana, so of course she knew Santana wasn't going to say anything further, Brittany wasn't expecting her to, but she was still hoping. As long as there was still a glimmer of feeling in Santana's eyes, Brittany would hold onto that hope. And for now there was still some hope for Brittany to grab onto.
Moving on and not wanting to be stuck in their emotional stare down any longer, Santana instructed Brittany on what to do. "When I hit the gas, push as hard as you can."
"Okay," Brittany said, stepping out of the car with a short, but meaningful backwards glance in Santana's direction.
They tried to get the car out of the hole the snow created, but with each subsequent attempt the hole just got bigger. Each time Santana slammed on the gas pedal Brittany would push with all her might, but each time the tires would spin, snow would fly, and the car wouldn't budge. Finally, Santana waved Brittany back inside, resigned in the fact that they literally, and figuratively, were stuck.
Brittany climbed back in the car, dusted the snow off her shoulders in the process, and attempted to catch her breath. It was cold out there. It was so cold that it made it hard to breathe and her lungs burned from the exertion.
"What do we do now?" Brittany asked, attempting to warm her hands on the heat vents.
"I don't know," Santana said, with a heavy sigh. "I guess all we can do is try to walk back along the road to see if we can pick up a cell signal or find some help.
Brittany really didn't like that option. It sounded dangerous. What if they couldn't get a signal? They could end up stuck out in the snow, walking forever with no place to get out of the cold. They could freeze to death. Plus, Santana was hurt; Brittany didn't think Santana could take it out in the cold for very long, she looked pretty weak already.
"Maybe you should stay with the car," Brittany said, trying to keep Santana out of harm's way. "I can walk back myself and this way if someone drives by and sees the car you can get them to stop."
"No way," Santana said, knowing there was no way in Hell, no matter how bad she was hurting that she was going to let Brittany out in the snow to trudge down the dark street, alone. "We go together. Remember? That's what you said…"
Brittany did remember saying they would do this together, but it seemed crazy for Santana to be walking around, bleeding, out in the cold when she didn't have to.
"But San, you might have a tumor…"
Santana did a quick questioning double take in Brittany's direction. Huh? She thought, scrunching her brow in confusion.
"It's not a tumor, Britt, it's just a bump," Santana replied, and as soon as she said the words she recognized the quote and saw what Brittany was trying to do. To other people Brittany's seemingly out of left field comments would just be brushed off as not making sense or, in some people's cases, just writing Brittany off as being stupid, but Santana knew otherwise. All of Brittany's comments, no matter how crazy they seemed, had a purpose. She really was a genius. Sometimes when meeting a new person she would test an outlandish comment on them and see if they would make fun of her. If they did, she knew they weren't worth her time. Other times her comments were made just to get a laugh out of people in a stressful situation, and sometimes they were a test to see if people understood the unique way her mind worked. To this day, Brittany always said that Santana was the only one who understood all of her off the wall comments and Santana could see that this was a test to see if she was still thinking clearly. "And don't try to test me with that Kindergarten Cop BS. You forget how well I know you. I'm fine. I can handle a walk in the snow."
Brittany smiled bigger than either of them had seen from the other in awhile. Santana really was okay. Not only had she recognized Brittany's comment as her version of a concussion test, but she had also remembered the line from the movie they'd probably seen together hundreds of times when they were younger. Brittany loved the movie Kindergarten Cop. She had a little crush on the teacher back in the day, not that she had realized it at the time. But this was Brittany's first indicator that she was a bicorn and not a single sided unicorn.
"You wanna test me on boys have a penis and girls have a vagina too? Because I don't need you to drop your pants to remember that as well. I know your lady parts. I'm fine, I got this."
Brittany laughed and it caused Santana to painfully chuckle a little too.
"Okay," Brittany sighed with a smile, "I'll stop, we'll go together. Nice work on the penis/vagina comment by the way. That line cracks me up every time."
"I know," Santana said, reminiscing back to simpler times with a bittersweet smile. "I remember."
Brittany could have continued down this reminiscing path forever, but she stopped herself. As children they'd had a lot of fun investigating the truth behind the boy in the movie's innocent comment. Playing 'doctor' in the Lopez's basement was both of their first times exploring someone else's body. There was nothing sexual about it at the time, they were both just curious about things that were different, or in their case things that were the same, but it felt good to know and feel that they still had those special connections, even if those connections were in the past. It was nice to know that those things could never change and they would always be bounded together by them. The thing that hurt was the uncertainty in wondering if all those milestones together were behind them. Would they have new milestones to look forward to? Brittany didn't know and that hurt much worse than any potential injury she could get out in the cold.
"We should probably put on some layers," Brittany said, switching tracks and remembering just how cold it was outside. But even after deciding that it was too painful to think about what they might have lost she wasn't quite ready to lose the brief fun connection they were feeling just yet. "It's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey."
Santana laughed and Brittany felt good that she'd accomplished her goal. She really missed hearing Santana's laughter. She had a great laugh.
"I'll remember that," Santana responded after a chuckle, opening her door and feeling a cold gust of wind chill her from the outside in.
She walked to the back of her car, pulling her coat tighter around her body to ward off the cold and opened the hatch to get out some sweats that were in her gym bag. There was no way Santana wanted to put them on out here in this wind so she just grabbed the bag and walked back around to get back in the warm car. She found Brittany rummaging in her own bag, pulling out random outfits that Santana had to question the reason behind why Brittany brought them.
"Do you need to borrow some sweats?" Santana asked, knowing she had multiple pairs that she'd thrown in the trunk after different practices or games and she didn't want Brittany to freeze to death in only jeans and a hoodie no matter how far their relationship had fallen.
"Yeah," Brittany said, looking up at Santana with her pouting big blue eyes on full display, "I didn't really think I would need heavy clothes for the UVA competition."
"It's okay, you know how I keep my car," Santana said, dropping another bittersweet reminder of how well they knew each other, or used to know each other. Santana wasn't really sure which was true anymore. "I have a few pairs, grab them all. We should probably bring them all just in case we get cold while we're walking."
Brittany picked up all the sweatshirts and sweatpants she could find and brought them back up front. Out of the six or seven outfits she'd found, Brittany picked out a Louisville cheerleading sweatshirt that had Lopez written in block letters on the back and a pair of black baggy sweat pants with a Cardinal on the left hip. She pictured Santana going to practice in these as she put on a couple pairs of extra socks. Brittany didn't like that she'd never seen Santana do what she was picturing. She bet that Santana looked adorable all swallowed up in these clothes. Mental note, don't ever get Santana nice clothes for birthdays or Christmas anymore, because while she looked great all dressed up, (actually, she looked great in everything,) Brittany thought she looked her best when she was natural and relaxed.
"Ready?" Santana asked after a few minutes of putting on layer after layer.
Brittany and Santana were as bundle up as they could be, but neither of them were quite ready to leave the safety of the car just yet.
Santana zipped her black bubble jacket up and put on a Cardinals skull cap, making sure to lift it carefully over the bandage on her forehead and then looked at Brittany waiting for her reply as she too finished getting ready.
"Ready," Brittany chirped after a couple seconds, pulling the hood over her head and putting her last pair of socks on her hands like mittens.
They both looked at each other for a brief moment and took a deep breath before they opened their car doors out into the cold. It felt like a big gamble to leave the warm car, but they both knew that if they didn't try to find help they would freeze in that car eventually. They took one last glance at each other, both giving the other a hesitant smile before stepping out of the car into the cold. As Brittany was about to shut the car door behind her she saw the first aid kit on the floor and quickly grabbed it, just in case and stuffed it into her coat before starting to walk behind Santana back the way they came.
They followed their tire tracks as the wind howled through the trees and the snow flakes blew and stung their warm faces. It was hard walking into the wind, and the eight to ten inches of snow on the ground certainly didn't help either. Santana's feet were already cold and wet and they'd only been walking for about twenty minutes. Unfortunately, the wind and snow were making it impossible to move very fast and the only way to cut through the wind was to walk with your head down and the top of your head leading the way. This seemed to help keep the snow out of their faces, at least a little, and it also helped keep an eye on their footing because it was slippery walking down hill in only tennis shoes.
Eventually, they'd walked far enough that their tire tracks had disappeared under the freshly fallen snow. Santana stopped to catch her breath and looked around at the intersection. Everything looks the same, she thought, trying to remember if this was where they turned. It was all dark and snowy, with trees and shit everywhere. It made it hard to be sure about which way to go. Grumbling to herself and cursing her still foggy memory, she pulled out her phone to check to see if they'd gone far enough to get a signal. No such luck she noticed, she still had nothing.
"You?" Santana asked, turning to Brittany, telling her to check her phone too.
"Nope," Brittany said, stuffing it back in her pocket.
Brittany looked around, taking in the scenery. If it weren't so cold, dark, and scary with the noises of the tree branches hitting together and the whistling of the wind in the tree tops it would look really pretty. Everything was freshly dusted with undisturbed snow and it seemed like there was no one around for miles. A few months ago Brittany would have killed to be with Santana in a place like this. Well, not exactly a place like this, but a place were they could be alone and no one would bother them. She missed just being alone with Santana without the awkwardness of the problems they now had.
"I think we turned here," Santana said, motioning to continue walking down the road off to the right.
"Are you sure?" Brittany questioned, "I don't remember turning here."
"No, I'm not sure," Santana said, looking around and trying to shield her face from the wind whipped snow, "but this road has to lead somewhere, right? Maybe there's a house down there that we can call for help from."
"Maybe," Brittany said, doubt causing her voice to waiver. She wasn't really sure she wanted to get off the main road. It seemed more uncertain than the unknown road they were already on. "I think we should stay on this road. We haven't been walking for very long. We should be able to pick up a cell signal soon. The GPS lost its signal shortly before we crashed. Shouldn't we be able to pick up a cell signal around that same point?"
"I don't know," Santana answered, shrugging her shoulders and feeling unsure about pretty much everything. "Cell phones and GPS devices are different, I think. I have no idea when I lost cell service. It could've been all the way back in Charlottesville for all I know. "
"Well, what do you wanna do?" Brittany asked, seeing Santana's teeth chattering and her shoulders curling into herself to hold onto that last little bit of warmth. "Do you wanna go back to the car to get warm?"
"No, we've come this far we gotta keep walking or else we're gonna freeze," Santana said, breathing out a heavy breath. Brittany could see Santana's breath as it floated into the air and eventually disappeared. She only hoped that their relationship wouldn't dissolve into the cold as easily.
"Okay," Brittany said, deciding to agree with Santana because it looked like Santana needed that right now. She wanting to reach out and comfort her, wrapping Santana up in a warm hug, but she knew that Santana wouldn't let her do that. Santana would just shrug her off like she was fine. But Santana didn't look fine, she looked really cold and she was kind of pale now that Brittany thought about it. Brittany was getting worried about her. They'd been walking in the snow for about forty five minutes and it felt like with each step it grew colder. Brittany could see that Santana was struggling in these elements, and she also knew that if something were wrong, Santana probably wouldn't say anything until it became really bad, and possibly too late. So Brittany needed to get them moving and to some place safe, soon. "Maybe you're right. We'll go your way. Left didn't work out so great for us last time. Maybe we need to try something different if we want to get back on track."
The way Brittany said try something different and get back on track made it seem like she wasn't really talking about the road. It made it seem like she was talking about them. But what did she mean by that? Did she mean that they weren't working anymore? Is that why she was trying things out with Sam? Was he her new path? What was back on track? Did that mean them? Was it possible for them to get back on track? And even if they did, did that mean a relationship, being in love, or was Brittany just talking about being friends? Because Santana didn't know if she could just be friends with Brittany. They'd never just been friends. There always had been something more even when they were kids. It just felt like they had something special, something worth fighting for. Why had she given up so easily on that back in October? Fricken, energy exchange, bullshit!
Maybe Brittany was right, what normally worked for them hadn't been working for awhile, that's why Santana thought it was a good idea for them to break up in the first place, although in hindsight, that was idiotic. She'd made a mistake. She knew that now. Maybe stepping out of their norms and trying a new path would be just what they needed to find their way back to a good place, back to a better place, together. It was worth a try. Santana couldn't lose Brittany. That much she knew.
TBC
AN: Okay, so there's chapter 2. They're kinda in deep shit. It's never good to be injured and stuck out in the snow. What'd you think? Do you still blame one person for everything? I kinda felt this chapter was a little slow, but maybe that's because I knew what was going to happen. I'm not sure. Tell me if you thought it was slow, but I will say it certainly sets things up for the hugeness of what's to come. Stay tuned and let me know your thoughts. Oh, and please tell me all you youngins out there know the movie Kindergarten Cop or else that great tumor comment and subsequent penis/vagina comment landed on dead air? Man, I'm gonna feel old if you guys haven't seen that movie and if you haven't seen it check out the female teacher, she was a cutie- not the cop the other one.
Take care till next Friday! Hopefully the WIFI at my hotel is good or else I'll be ticked. Chapter 3 will be coming to you from Munich.
Have a good week and let me know what you think. I'll have lots of time to read your comments while I'm travel. ;) ;)
Drew