Someone asked for a retelling of the blue lagoon with Brittany and Santana as the abandoned children and I couldn't help myself.


The girls were taken off the island the day after they had their fight, when Brittany left as soon as the sun came up to look for crabs and told Santana she would be back when it was almost dark. As soon as Brittany had gotten up from their bed and gone outside Santana scrambled up to watch her leave, and watch her long, strong legs – legs that meant that Brittany could climb higher and run faster then she could- bounce away over the sand. Santana had just finished getting them water and cleaning the fish from the day before when she saw a ship, shockingly close. She knew it was a ship because it was just like the one Will had told them to look for before died and they had to leave him. While she was standing there, the fish slipping out of her hand, the ship moved closer and closer and it was the biggest thing she had ever seen in her life and

'BRITTANY! BRITTANY'

She screamed until her throat was raw and there were people coming out of the ship to stand at the top and look and point. She felt like a little insect as she stood there horribly exposed on the beach, and she ran into the house to be safe. As soon as she got in and brushed her way past the grilles and pictures and the photo she crawled under hers and Brittany's blankets and waited, sweating. It didn't take long until she heard Brittany running towards her, her long strides the only ones she knew the sound of except for her own. Brittany ducked into the house and locked eyes with her, scared.

'We have to hide. We have to go now.' Santana rose to her feet and tugged on her hand. Brittany didn't move.

'Why?' It wasn't fair that Santana was pulling with all her strength and Brittany had only taken one step towards the door. Suddenly Santana felt stupid. She should have gone to find Brittany and they should have hidden together near the sharp end of the island. Instead she had crawled into the bed like a coward snail into its shell, hiding from the thing that Will told them would happen, that she had waited for and been scared of since she was small enough to walk beneath the wings of the plane that had left them here. Her eyes filled with tears.

'Hey, don't cry. We decided we were going to do this anyway. This is good.' Brittany's eyes were wide and shiny, and Santana could feel the energy coming off her like a fever. Brittany removed her hand from Santana's, with some difficulty, and went to pack some of their things into a bag that they found in the plane. Santana stood in a corner and watched as Brittany threw in their one warm blanket, the three books that they had and Brittany guarded like a treasure, the faded green coat that Will had pulled off the pilot and a photo of their family. The photo was so old and worn that the faces could barely be made out, but the two had sat over it and traced their faces so many times that she felt like the pictures had been copied into the back of their brains. Brittany turned and saw that Santana had tears streaming down her face and was pressing her lips together to keep from crying, so she put the bag down and pressed her mouth on Santana's. The feeling of her lips made Santana feel dizzy as usual, like she was swooping and twirling in the sky like the birds that stole the fish they left out to dry if they weren't careful, and she felt her muscles relax a tiny bit. Brittany took advantage and gently steered Santana out onto the beach by her waist. Santana still felt nervous and scattered from when she first saw the ship, and she felt like she was going to be sick everywhere. The only thing that calmed her down was feeling Brittany's hand on her stomach tremble slightly, because at least she knew she wasn't the only one. They stood on the beach until the ship let a small motorboat that buzzed towards them, and the sound was so loud that Santana froze her muscles into place so that she didn't bolt. Brittany dug her hand deeper into her side.

A man that was the tallest she had ever seen (not that she remembered seeing many) stepped out of the boat, with two smaller (but still giant) men behind him. He walked over to them slowly, like he was afraid that they were the like the very hungry caterpillar in one of Brittany's books. He stopped when he was a few feet away.

'My name is Lieutenant Andy Maguire. We saw your fire.' He spoke slowly, like he thought they wouldn't understand him. Santana could sense that Brittany was rethinking this whole dumb idea, because his big body looked so strange on their island, where the only people on it for the past several years were little and skinny, then tall and skinny. She wanted to push him into the water so he would swim away. He took a tiny step closer, and raised his hands when they took a step backwards together.

'Look, we're not going to hurt you, we're in the Navy. We just thought you might need some help.'

Brittany tilted her head. 'Is that like the police?' He looked confused, then like he was going to laugh, but he answered anyway.

'Yes, exactly like that. What are your names?'

Santana answered first. 'We're Brittany and Santana Pierce.'

The confused look came on his face again. 'You're sisters?' Brittany giggled.

'No, silly.'

He sighed, moving on. 'How long have you been here?' Santana furrowed her brow and started to count, adding and counting moons and how old they were before, but it was all so confusing and she couldn't remember...

'Seventeen?' That was the best she could do, without the counting tree to check.

He saw the distress on her face, and his eyes softened. 'How old were you when you got here?'

She knew this one.

'I was five,' she said, confident. He looked at her like she had said she was actually a monkey.

'Have you been here alone, all this time?' He looked so sorry.

'No,' she replied indignantly. 'I wasn't alone. I have Brittany.' She smiled and leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek, and felt Brittany's chest press against her arms. Brittany smiled and pulled her closer in. The man's eyes widened and his face went red. Suddenly he stopped looking at her eyes and turned around so he could gesture at the boat.

'So, we can, ah, leave now, ladies. Girls.' Santana could see that he was trying not to look at her chest, which made her feel strange, like he was crawling under her skin. She shivered and felt Brittany do the same.

'If you girls are cold I have a coat that you can borrow, to cover yourselves up. If you want.' Brittany shook her head, but Santana nodded at the man and took the bag from Brittany. She dug in to find the coat and draped it over Brittany's shoulders, because she didn't like the way the man kept on sneaking glances at her either. When he handed her a jacket that was so blindingly white it reflected the sun into her eyes she pulled it on, wincing as the material pulled at her skin. It had been so long since she had worn proper clothes that the material chafed and itched and she shifted irritably. The man seemed to relax a bit.

'Let's go, the ship is waiting.' Santana took a deep breath and walked towards the boat, Brittany matching her step for step, all the way into the surf.


Santana is five years and seven months old when they crash on the island the day after her mother sends her off with a kiss and a bag of treats and two colouring books. Brittany is four months younger. Will has exactly three hundred and twenty two days left.