Safety
The auditorium rings with the echo of you palm against Finn's now-rosy cheek. Your shaky, heaving breaths are loud in the silence, loud against the ringing in your ears. You can't look at anyone. Your eyes flit back and forth, frightened, like you're trying to figure out what you should do next. You turn and half-run toward the exit.
"Santana," a voice says behind you, but you don't stop. You're crying again. You hear the sound of Brittany's heels on the stage, the swish of her dress as she crouches and jumps off.
You crash through the double doors and hurry down the hall, your heels slipping slightly on the linoleum floors. You hear Brittany push through the doors before they can close again.
The hall is empty. You can't think; your heart is pounding and you think you might vomit right there on the floor. You slow to a stop, your breaths coming fast, too fast. You can't catch your breath. You try to breathe more deeply, but it just makes it worse.
You turn, needing help, needing someone to help you breathe, and Brittany is right there.
"Britt," you gasp. "I can't…breathe…" Your face crumples and your knees buckle. Brittany puts her arms around your waist and sinks to the floor with you, right there in the middle of the hallway.
She holds you, rocks you, one hand holding your head against her chest, the other stroking up and down your back. You clutch at her arm, your head spinning, black spots in front of your eyes. "Shhh," she says. "It's okay, breathe with me…." She takes a slow, deep breath. "Breathe with me, that's it. Just breathe with me, you're okay…"
Finally your heartbeat calms to a steady, if slightly fast, rhythm. You catch your breath enough to break into sobs, moaning.
"Britt," you choke out, heaving with sobs. "Britt…" You can't even say it.
"Baby, baby," Britt whispers, still rocking you.
"Every…body…knows," you manage to cry. Saying the words floods your chest with a new wave of panic. Everybody knows. It's out there. You can't get it back. You try to curl into Britt, your head buried in her chest, one arm around her neck. You pull your knees up, trying to disappear into her. You just want to feel safe again.
"Santana? Brittany?" Mr. Schuester appears at the auditorium doors, walks towards you.
You shake your head against Brittany, your face wet against her skin and dress, clutch her neck as though you might die if you let go. You don't want anyone else to see you.
"Okay, baby," Britt whispers into your hair. "Hey, Mr. Schue." She starts to stand, slipping one arm underneath your knees, the other around your back.
"Santana, are you okay? Tell me how I can help," Mr. Schuester says, sounding concerned.
"Thanks, Mr. Schue, but I think we're okay for now. Just gonna get Santana home," Brittany says, pushing off one knee as she stands on muscular dancer legs, your small body curled perfectly in her strong arms.
Your breaths come out wet and shaky against her collarbone as she carries you down the hallway.
"I can't go home, Britt, I can't go home," you cry into her skin. "I'm so scared, I'm so scared." Your tears come in a fresh wave.
"Shh, it's okay. I'm here, baby," she says. "We'll go to my house. I'm here. I'm not letting you go."
"Everybody knows. It's on tv, everybody knows," you cry.
"It's okay, baby," Brittany whispers into your hair.
You take a few shaky breaths, your head resting against Brittany's shoulder as she carries you all the way across the dusky parking lot to her car. She puts you down and opens the passenger side door for you. You climb shakily in, suddenly exhausted, and then pull her into a hug, fresh tears leaking out from beneath your tightly shut eyelids. You need her against you, need to feel her to feel safe. You need her body over yours, surrounding you, shielding you.
"Britt," you whimper against her neck.
She holds you, leaning awkwardly into the passenger seat, feet still on the pavement. "It's okay, honey. Let's just get you home, okay?"
You sniff. "Okay."
She pulls the seat belt across your body and helps you buckle up before closing your door. You watch her jog around the front of the car and get in the driver's seat. She holds your hand tightly the whole way home, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles, squeezing more tightly as you choke out the story of what had happened in Sue's office. Your voice breaks as you recount the campaign ad, the image of that red Sharpie circle drawn around your smiling face burned into your mind, your chest tightening with the ever-present panic.
At Brittany's house, she takes your hand and you go straight up to her room after she yells to her mom that she's home and that you're staying the night.
Your face feels salty and stiff with dried tears, your eyes puffy and red. Brittany shuts and locks the door and turns on a lamp before pulling you into an embrace, folding you into her long arms.
"I'm here, San," she whispers. "I'm gonna take care of you."
You just hold her tight. New tears leak out of your eyes, this time of love. You have no one else but her.
You're scared of what might happen to her.
"Here, sweetie," she says, kissing the top of your head and loosening her grip on you to unzip your dress in the back. She slips it off your shoulders, holds you steady as you step out of it, then helps you unclasp your bra and slip it off, too. She grabs an oversized t-shirt off the back of her desk chair and pulls it gently over your head, holding open the arm holes so you can slide your hands in. She takes your hand and leads you to the bed, where you sit. She kneels, pulls off your shoes one at a time, kisses just above your left knee. Sitting up on her knees, she reaches up to gently pull the ponytail out of your hair, then runs her hands through your silky black locks.
"Feel better?" she says gently, and you nod, giving her a tiny smile.
She pulls the covers down and you slip your legs underneath, lying curled with your head on her pillow. You watch her change quietly and flip the switch on the lamp. Her soft footsteps pad across the carpet to the bed, and then you feel her warm, smooth legs against the backs of yours as she slips in behind you.
When she puts her arm over your body, you adjust so that you face upward slightly, your back pressed against her chest, your knees bent together. Your turn your head towards her a little, and she presses a soft kiss on your neck, just underneath your ear. You pull her arm up to your chest, clutch her hand against your heart.
"I love you, Britt," you whisper. "I…I really need you." Your voice breaks.
"I love you too, San." She kisses you again. "You're my baby girl," she says. "I won't let anyone hurt you anymore."
