Chapter Text
-~A~-
The cold ‘winter’ wind blew through Augustine's brown hair, snow pricking his skin and fresh, freezing air filling up his lungs. His sight was hazy, as if he had been put under a spell, and he could barely see five metres ahead of him in the cold mist.
It didn’t make any sense.
It made no sense.
The words kept repeating in his clouded mind as if somehow they could change the truth, as if somehow he could simply wake up and go “Oh! It was all a dream! Thank God,” But no.
He had already tried that--rapidly opening and closing his brown eyes as if he could startle himself awake, pinching his arm under his jacket, rubbing snow in his eyes to force them awake.
Everything was wrong. It shouldn’t be snowing, it was July for goodness sake, they shouldn’t be stranded, it just…shouldn’t have happened, full-stop.
And yet he was still here, bitten by the cold but still very much awake, treading deep footsteps in deeper snow, only driven forward by the hope that something--anything--may arise in the darkness.
It was bad. But the voice in his brain that sounded an awful lot like Winnie was telling him that it could be worse. Curse that stupidly positive and loving motherfucker, getting in his head like no one's business. After all, at least he was dressed for the occasion. Wearing a full winter outfit, lined with warm fur and thick boots, keeping out most of the cold, and his naturally warm blood fought the rest.
He only wished he could say the same about Winnie.
The blonde was walking at snail speed, his feet dragging along the cold snow like they had all the time in the world. But it wasn’t his speed--or their lack of--that made Augustine's heart clench.
It was his face.
Winnie’s face was meant to be perfect--it always had been. It was meant to be smiling like the world was ok, it was meant to be making Augustine's world ok, making his heart smile. But his face…it looked ruined. His breaths were coming in hitched and panting, his eyes were watering with the sharp cold, his teeth chattering in the wind. His hair, which was meant to be floaty and graceful, was wet and droopy, his whole body physically shaking.
And yet, he still looked up at Augustine with that fucking perfect smile, the one that would normally make the brunette's heart stop. It only made it worse. How he managed to smile in a time like this was beyond him, and it only broke his heart further.
Augustine didn’t deserve Winnie’s smile, especially in a time like this.
They had barely talked in a year.
Winnie had distanced himself for reasons Augustine didn’t want to think about.
It hurt, not seeing his friend in that long. It felt like a part of him had been ripped out, leaving him one half without a whole. So, after many long nights of playing back old memories of the blonde, trying to figure out why he had disappeared, he eventually gave up and tried to forget.
Forget the feelings that Winnie gave him, let his stupid childhood crush wear off as it should.
It hadn’t.
It had gotten worse. He fell asleep with the images of Winnie by his bed, he had drawn him over and over in his old sketch book until his pens ran dry. He had fallen harder and harder until he could barely handle it anymore, until even the thought of Winnie's beautiful face was enough to make his heart stutter.
It wasn’t helping, the way Winnie was looking at him, as if he was some kind of saviour.
…
Fucking gay idiot
-~W~-
Holy shit, Winnie was cold. Like, it had well passed the line of bearable, his skin felt like it was going to fall off, his teeth chattering way too loud, his heart beat slowing down to match his walking pace.
It was overpowering, all-consuming, complete and utter freezing.
His breathing was slowing down; he could feel his world contracting to points of contact.
His shoes against the ground. The crunch of snow under his feet. The wind against his hair.
His clothes were too thin, inadequate for this temperature, he could feel the snow dampening up the small jacket he was wearing. He tried to brush platinum blonde hair out of his eyes, but he couldn’t feel his fingers, only the stinging, numbing pain of COLD.
His brain seemed to be frozen too, as if his thoughts were forced to trudge through sticky mud to surface, his brain only repeating the same thoughts over and over:
Cold cold cold cold cold cold cold--
In front of him, he could barely make out the cloudy silhouette of Auggie, his form stuttering and shaking in the cold. The brunette must have been at least five metres ahead of Winnie, and still walking alone as if the cold barely bothered him. It probably didn’t, in his cute little winter outfit, the one that he had worn last year.
Gah, he looked so adorable in it though! It was almost enough to distract Winnie from the fact that whatever divine intervention had decided to put them in this situation had cursed him with this outfit.
Where Auggie was all fluffy boots and fur hats, he had been dressed in his student clothes, thin and pathetic, not made for winter. It was made for long study nights, for professors' favour, to look as smart as Augustine was.
It was not made for trudging in 10 metre deep snow, trying to find any warmth or shelter.
Holy shit, he was cold.
It was so cold it was painful, so cold it felt like all his muscles were giving in, it was piercing, consuming--
No.
He had to stay positive.
How could he stay positive in a time like this?
Auggie looked back at him, a heart warming concerning look in his eyes, to which Winnie flashed one of his signature smiles.
It was fine.
There was no way any of this was real.
It was a dream! Or a coma!
Just another fun snow day to spend with Auggie, the bestest friend in the world…
The one that Winnie had…ghosted for a whole year.
Shit.
Ahhh, what had he done? Telling himself it was for the best, forcing it on him. Saying he needed space.
Ruining everything.
It was fine, he was fine, everything was good--
He had to be happy.
Smile.
Cold cold cold cold cold col-
Smile-
Can’t move, it's too cold, too much, can’t move mouth can’t-
SMILE
Trying to, head too cloudy, eyes want to shut, too cold, so cold
SMILE!
SMILE SMILE I HAVE TO SMILE I HAVE TO BE HAPPY I CAN’T BE SAD I CANT GIVE UP I-
His ears felt fuzzy as if the world was falling, the light way too bright, the cold way too much.
SMILE
The world narrowed further, his vision dimming to a hazy white cloud, until all he could see was the flickering silhouette of Auggie in front of him, the only sound audible the deafening thumping of his heart.
Shit. Augustine had turned around. And was walking towards him.
Shit…
Had he said something wrong? No, he couldn’t of--he had barely spoken at all. Winnie could hardly think of speaking, with his head fogged and his teeth chattering louder than his footsteps. Had he not been smiling enough? Had Augustine sensed something was wrong? Was he smiling too much? Did he need to tone it down?
Crap-fuck-shit-no-cold-please-goddamit--
Apearently the blonde's remaining brain cells (the ones that hadn’t gotten frozen off already) were spamming every cuss word he knew, as if that would somehow get him out of wherever the fuck he was.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SMILE DIMWIT! AUGGIE IS COMING CLOSER!
Be good for Augustine.
He deserves it.
“Heyyyyy Auggie! W-whats up..?”
The brunette sighed, rolling his brown eyes. God, they were beautiful, Auggie's eyes. Winnie felt like he could get lost in them forever, floating in the golden brown haze…--
--“Get on.”
…What?
“W-wwhhatt?” It felt like the cold air was freeing his lungs, his vision going dangerously low.
Augustine sighed.
“Get on my back. It-it’ll be faster--”
Winnie's world faded, the only light in his dark being Augustines glowing eyes, a single, warm anchor. His breathing came out stuttering and unsteady, as if his lungs might give way to the cold any second, his legs shaking weakly beneath him.
“Itsss f-fine, I-I d-dontt want t-o be-e-e a bo-ther-” Winnie really didn’t want that. Even with his nerves half frozen, the last thing he would do was be a bother--
Just focus on Auggie’s eyes…
His eyes…
Just focus and smile.
--!
Shit.
He felt the ground fall beneath him.
His vision blacked out, legs crumbling beneath him, breathing skewered. Sounds of his heartbeat and soft snow falling blended into nothing, his body finally giving up.
He could faintly hear Augustine's gorgeous voice murmur something like ”shit, Win- are you ok?” but his ears felt numb, like all of his body, the only feeling being the cold, screaming at him
COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD COL--
Until…numb. And then warm...
He faintly felt warm hands wrap around him, his last thought before blacking out completely scolding himself for not managing to smile.
-~A~-
Augustine could barely process what was happening before Winnie was falling, his pale legs failing to stay upright, and his stupidly pretty eyes flicking shut. His muscles acted on autopilot, wrapping around Winnie’s…small….waist before he hit the cold ground, hugging him close. And holy shit, Winnie was cold. His skin was ice, and yet somehow burning Augustines' hands when he made contact, his long fingers a painful tint of blue.
Shit.
What was he supposed to do? Where in the world was that first aid course when he needed it?
He closed his brown eyes, trying desperately to remember what he was meant to do, but all his thoughts were pierced with cold and unreadable, like a flickering word just at his fingertips.
What was he meant to do??? Winnie was gonna die, and the world would end and--
He took a deep breath.
Focus, Augustine. What was the first thing you’re meant to do in an emergency?
Lay in recovery position. Check for pulse. Check breathing.
Right.
He knelt on the cold snow, ignoring the way the ice made his legs freeze: whatever he was feeling, Winnie was feeling ten times worse. With as much care as he could manage, he gently lowered Winnie onto his lap, tilting his freezing head to the side. Even in this condition, god Winnie was beautiful. His hair, his pale skin, his everything, it made Augustine want to lie with him and hold him close, keep him warm through the wild storm.
But no. He had to focus.
Recovery position: CHECK.
Next up, pulse and breathing.
Gulping, he took Winnie's hand in his own, a rush of blood rushing to his cheeks. It was stupid, how just the action of them holding hands was enough for his heart to jump, especially in such an inappropriate time like this.
God, pull yourself together, Augustine. You’re best friend’s dying for fucks sake!
His gloved finger moved over Winnie's wrist, trying to find his pulse. Nothing.
Shit.
Desperate, he moved his hand up to the blonde's heart, trying to feel something, anything.
Nothing.
Augustine felt the air leave his lungs.
No, no, no, please, not Winnie! Why not him? He should be the one dead, he should be the one on the ground, please.
The cold wind ruffled his hair, tears streaming down his face, the icy wind making them sting.
Shit, he couldn’t die, no, Winnie was too perfect to die, it didn’t happen, his pulse would spring back anytime now--
Augustine felt his heart sink as he counted the seconds, kneeling on the floor with Winnie lying in his lap, the cold seemingly fading into nothing as his whole attention locked onto the blonde.
One, Two, Three.
His gloved hand found Winnie’s once more, squeezing it as if it were some lifeline.
Four, five, six.
“Winnie?”
…nothing.
Ten, Eleven, Twelve.
“Shit…Win, please don’t go, I-I can’t live without you, I need you!”
Eighteen, Nineteen, twenty…
Augustine gasped for air, his hands shaking, but not from the cold.
“WINNIE! P-PLEASE I-”
Tears streamed down his face, freezing before they fell to the floor. His breath became stuttered and desperate, his hand death gripping Winnies.
Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…
“D-DONT YOU LEAVE ME! I-I KNOW YOU C-CAN HOLD ON, PLEASE,”
Thirty.
“WINNIE!”
Thirty-one.
“I DIDN’T E-EVEN GET TO TELL YOU--”
Thirty-two
“PLEASE, I-I”.
Still Nothing.
“I LOVE YOU!”
///!
…
...
…
…
For a long, heart-wrenching second, nothing happened. Then-
BOOM.
The taller suddenly gasped for air, his pulse flicking back to life in a frantic, uneven way, his breaths comeing in and out sparingly, but it didn’t matter.
Winnie was alive.
He was unconscious, lying on cold snow, fingers blue and hair frosted over, but he was alive.
Thank fucking god.
And Augustine had yelled out the biggest, darkest secret to him, out here in the open. Did Winnie hear it? Was it a coincidence how Winnie had woken up just after he had said that? Did it mean something? Fuck, Winnie would probably never look at Augustine the same way. Why did he have to fucking ruin the entire relationship? Winnie probably hated him, it was so over, fuck, why did Augustine always have to ruin everything? Winnie--
Winnie won’t be alive for much longer if you leave him here.
Right.
Winnie needed warmth, now. There was no time for overthinking or worrying: what's said was said. He couldn’t change the past. What mattered now was that Winnie was alive and that Augustine had to get him to shelter.
Sides, it didn’t really mean anything. It wasn’t like Winnie would hate him.
Winnie was too perfect for that.
Now. Shelter.
There were two main ways they could seek shelter: they could find some random area, a cave maybe, OR they could go back to the car and hope it would be enough.
Both options seemed hopeless, but Augustine was willing to bet they’d have more luck with the car.
At least Winnie’s snail pace had meant they had only walked about ten metres up--now it was just a matter of getting Winnie himself to the car. Which was easier said than done.
Gah, was there really no other way to do this?
No. No, there wasn’t.
Fine.
Pursing his lips, Augustine wrapped his arms around Winnie, easily lifting him up as the brunette stood up. Winnie was light. He took almost no effort to lift, and Augustine couldn’t tell if that fact was alluring or concerning. Maybe a bit of both. He cradled the taller close, careful to support his neck and such. Winnies hight made it very impractical, and maybe there were much easier ways to do this, but it was only to get Winnie to the car.
His choice in cradling the blonde had nothing to do with how his heart beat slightly faster with Winnie's small weight on him, or the way his breath quickened at the proximity. And definitely nothing to do with how he could feel himself heating up--despite the cold--at the way his blonde hair floated so gracefully in the air, and how his stuttering, broken breaths were so beautiful yet heartbreaking, or how--
Focus. Your friend--if you can even call him that anymore, after what you said--is dying. Get. To. The. FUCKING. CAR!
He shook his head and took a step. The snow crunched beneath his feet. Just…keep going.
One step after the other, he trudged through the heavy snow, holding Winnie close to him so that he could feel his stuttering heart beat. The unstable beating was both grounding and terrifying at the same time.
After a while, Winnie shifted slightly, curling up closer as if to retain body heat. Augustine held him closer, a shield from the wind and rain and snow.
It was…it was going to be OK. They just had to get the car.
Easy.
-~W~-
When Winnie woke up, he was warm. Well, maybe warm was the wrong word--he was still shivering, and his skin was still ice--but it was so, so much warmer than before. The cold wasn’t eating him from the inside out anymore--it was just… bearable.
He came to his senses slowly, perhaps too slowly. Sensory details popped into his brain one by one, as if he was living in slow motion.
The steady beating of someone’s heart against his.
Warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer.
Muffled curses and heavy footsteps.
Winnie moved further into the warmth, feeling fluffy sleeves hold him tighter, protective, almost possessive.
The cold stung, but it was numb, deafening. His lungs hurt, but he could breathe, barely. He just had to focus on the heat around him.
It was peaceful for a while. Very confusing though. His brain was going in circles, trying to remember where he was, to remember the person who was holding him, to remember…anything.
It was strange how his mind went blank, as if a part of his life had been pulled out of his brain, everything soft and fuzzy like the snow around them. But…maybe it was best to just stay positive. After all, he could be dead.
Yes, it was peaceful.
That was, until the audio came back in.
It was gradual, at first.
The whispering of the wind blowing around him.
The soft humming of Augustines' grunts as he tried to manoeuvre himself through the snow.
Augustine….?
The hooting of an owl.
Winnie smiled, glad for the auditory disturbance. He wasn’t sure if it was the ADHD or anxiety inside him speaking, but he fucking hated silence. It was too…nothing. It made him worry, his brain going into turbo mode trying to fill in every blank in his life. Unlike Augustine, Winnie had never minded crowds or loud noises, though in truth, he preferred the sweet, random sounds of nature.
What wasn’t a ‘sound of nature’, however, was the blaring sound of a freaking ambulance that came out of nowhere.
[BEEEOOOOOOOOPPPPEEEEE BEEEEOOEOOOOOOPEEEEEEPP]
Winnie fliched despite himself, burrowing his blonde head deeper into Auggie's jumper.
It was so, so loud to the point of unbearableness--even for Winnie-- a ringing yet thundering sound echoing through…the snowing plains? Part of him, a part desperately trying to remain positive, tried to imagine an ambulance thundering through the cold, heroically rescuing a freezing Winnie and a very brave and cool as fuck hero Auggie.
But the reasonable side of him--you know, the one that got him into uni-- knew that that theory--unfortunately--was bullshit. To even think that an ambulance could make its way out here was ridiculous. So…maybe it was like, when people's lives flashed before their eyes? Had they gotten into a car crash, perhaps? Maybe, Winnie could put his foggy frozen brain to good use if he could fucking hear himself think over the deafening sound of that stupid ambulance--
Stay positive, Winnie. Maybe this is a dream? You can barely remember where you are, how you got here, all thoughts as cloudy as a snowstorm
Dream Theory 1, Flashback Theory 0.
He supposed that was good, even if he was purposely ignoring all the evidence for Flashback Theory.
“Mmf-”
Suddenly, Winnie’s world tipped on its head once more as he felt himself being laid down on some makeshift bed, maybe. It was strange when he thought about it, but he could feel the cold creeping in again, muffling his thoughts.
It was so, so tempting to fall asleep again. Scary--cos who knows when he might wake up if he does-- but tempting nevertheless.
No. Auggie…he said to not close my eyes.
I’m being needy. It’s not fair- He shouldn’t be taking care of me like I'm 3. I don't deserve that.
Auggie likes it when I smile…
I have to smile…
I can’t give up…
Open your goddamn eyes, Winnie and smile! That’s all you're good for- just a slightly more joyful shadow of Augustine. And if you can’t even be joyful? Pathetic.
He tried to open his eyes, but they felt heavier than a hundred tons of snow; he tried to make his lips smile, but they were frozen.
Everything was too cold, too much. It was cold to the point of numbness, of overpowering defeat. There was no point. If he were just a clone of Auggie but happier, what's the point of even being alive? He served no purpose. He was nothing.
Auggie was everything.
I close my eyes, giving in to the cold.
Itll be better this way.
I don’t think Auggie would want that.
He was…yelling things, before I came to consciousness.
For once, I don't want to hope.
I want to pretend I didn’t hear.
Because hoping is scarier than forgetting--
I…
I don't want to get my heart broken by the one person who likes me for myself.
I don't want to lose Auggie.
...
...
...
I’d rather lose myself.
He closed his eyes.
Maybe for the last time, he wasn't sure. But the sweet release of sleep felt better than being awake.
Auggie's hand was in his, he thought. Warm and grounding, finger on his pulse.
Sleep came easier than it ever had before.