Someone Like You

She ran.

Shouts and chaos followed in her wake, grasping hands trying to pull her back, to force her to face all the spiralling consequences of this horrific mess. Her teammates faces, both past and present, flew past her in a blur of shock and confusion, voices raised in outrage and demands of authority echoed in her ears. But right now, she couldn't give a fuck what Shelby or Schue or Figgins decided to do to her in reprimand. It couldn't be any worse that what she was doing to herself, couldn't hold a candle to what was awaiting her at home when that fucking ad hit the airwaves.

The bottom line was that Santana could handle the corridor jeers, could hold her own in the savage war of words and mental abuse that made up high school existence. She could and would fight dirty with anyone who pushed her, physically or otherwise, and she could match the most vicious of attitudes with a merciless tongue and heart of stone. She'd had years of practice as queen bitch of the Unholy Trinity after all. Who did they think Quinn had learnt all her tricks from? She could survive whatever her peers threw at her, she could endure the onslaught of humiliation their prejudice would unleash, and she would do it with her pride intact. Because, at the end of the day, none of those people mattered. Their hate and cruelty could only cut so deep.

Only a handful of people in the world had the power to break Santana, to cripple her with a look of disappointment – and now she was standing at the very brink of losing them. The truth was that some scars would never heal, some betrayals could never be forgiven, and there were some weaknesses she simply couldn't protect her heart against. And that scared her beyond reason. Santana hated the wound of her vulnerability that had been so brutally exposed to the world, violently resented the control that had been stripped from her, but perhaps it was the sense of inevitability that was the worst of all.

Bursting her way into an empty classroom, she finally collapsed into the darkness. Her hands trembled as she braced them against the desk, her eyes shut so tight that ink stains splashed across her vision like spilt blood, her head swam dizzily as she breathed hard and fast. She had run as far from the auditorium as she could manage, but it still wasn't enough to drown out the pounding turmoil that filled her mind, crushing down on her shoulders.

The cheerleader knew that she had earned a lot of bad feeling over the years, that most people thought her nothing but a cold and cruel bitch and would probably argue that she had got what was coming to her. It was a façade she played perfectly, a popular consensus she had worked hard to foster. How could you hurt the heartless after all? However, even Santana couldn't force herself to believe her own publicity right now, couldn't conceal the suffocating burden of her heart anymore – for nothing else could ever possibly hurt this much.

Her hand stung to hell so she could only imagine what his cheek felt like, and yet she couldn't subdue the vengeful feeling that she hadn't hit him nearly hard enough. Fearful anger was seething inside her, consuming her insides like vitriolic acid, so much so that she thought she might disappear completely into the black hole that ate away at her. She wanted to scream, to smash the room apart, to break everything she could get her hands on – anything to stop the pain. Anything to stop the tears.

"Santana?"

A shaky gasp escaped her, her walls crumbling down with such force that she shuddered, her shoulders shaking in the earthquake of emotion that crashed through her. Her name had never sounded so beautiful, so tender and warm, so utterly heartbreaking. The one voice she couldn't hide from, that she could never deny, that could break her better than any other.

She heard hesitant footsteps approach behind her in the same moment that an intimately familiar fragrance washed through the air, a warm and sweet scent that she would know anywhere. The voice that reached out to her was soft, pained and desperate, but gently firm.

"Please… please talk to me."

Santana felt the last of her strength deserting her, the anger draining away to abandon her to the unknown, leaving her alone in the wilderness of her own mind. She had never felt so lost, always lost. Save for the one compass of faith that refused to leave her, that could find her in the darkness even now, that knew her heart better than she did. Slowly, she forced herself to turn around and meet those beautiful eyes – and the concern and confusion that filled that bright gaze was enough to shatter what little was left of her façade. She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks in defiant streaks and she didn't even try to stop them.

"I – I can't do this."

Brittany was at her side almost before she could draw another broken breath, closing the distance between them with the same fluid agility that graced her every movement. She ran her hands along Santana's bare shoulders, trying to soothe the distraught girl before her, her gaze raw with empathy. "Shhh, you can. It's okay," she murmured soothingly, her gaze earnest as she traced Santana's cheeks with infinite care, catching the warm tears on her fingertips as if they were as precious as pearls to her. "Sweetheart, you can."

Santana shook her head, choking on the words she was forced to utter. "No. Finn's right – I'm a coward. I hate him, but he's right. I'm just not strong enough."

"You are," Britt insisted, the tender conviction in her voice as sure and steadfast as ever, unwavering in all the belief she had in her best friend. She tugged gently at the ends of Santana's side ponytail in a comforting habit they had always shared. "You're the strongest, meanest, most amazing person I've ever known. You never let anybody push you around."

"No," Santana moaned, pulling away even as she longed to surrender into the warmth of Brittany's embrace. "It's not…them. I haven't…haven't told…anyone." She caught her girlfriend's eyes, apologising and imploring at the same time, desperate for her to understand. To forgive her for her selfish weakness. She watched as a confused frown fell slowly over those sweet features, and regret pierced through her heart, drawing blood like a thorn.

"Are, are you ashamed to be with me?" she asked at last, her voice quiet and eyes lowered, and for a moment she looked so lost that Santana forgot to cry, forgot to hate the world – forgot about everything but making Brittany's smile shine again. Nothing else was important anymore. The pain that went through her at the sight of her girlfriend's doubt was almost crippling, eclipsing all of the fear and devastation she had felt up until now. The last thing she wanted was for Britt to think that any of this was her fault, that Santana in any way resented the complete happiness she had brought into her life. She couldn't lose her. Without Brittany she would never have had the strength to confront her true feelings, without her faith to guide her she would never find her way out of the dark.

"No," she said firmly, stepping forward and tightly grasping her hands in her own, silently begging her to meet her eyes. "You're the only… I wouldn't trade this, us, for anything in the world."

"But it's hurting you…" Brittany protested in confusion, torn in her lover's pain, at a loss for how to make it better. "If we weren't together, you wouldn't have to deal with any of this. You wouldn't have to be scared all the time."

"Maybe not," she admitted hesitantly, before turning her head and finding her girlfriend's gaze with a fierce conviction. "But I wouldn't be whole either."

Santana saw the sparkling light rekindle in those blue eyes, a warm smile spreading over those lips, and her heart threatened to burst in the rush of relief that overwhelmed her. The words spilled out of her before she could stop them, truth and fears finally taking voice. "Britt…I love you so much. Too much. Maybe more than you can ever love me back."

Quiet fell in the wake of her confession. Brittany remained still as she looked at her for a long moment, the weight of her gaze so bright that Santana had to break away, dropping her eyes to the floor and cursing herself for such a betrayal of weakness. She had sworn she would never do this, never give someone this kind of power over her, never surrender so completely to another.

She faltered as she felt gentle fingers touch her cheek, guiding her face up to meet those intense eyes once more. However, before she could summon any words to her defence, warm lips caught hers in a lingering caress. The kiss was slow and tender and achingly honest – and it was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was deep and faithful and Santana shivered as she felt the burning heat pouring into her heart like a molten river, setting her whole body on fire.

Both were more than a little breathless when they finally drew apart. Santana's fingers were still tangled lightly in those silky gold locks as she silently came to terms with the new and daunting page they had turned together.

"Are you sure about that?" Brittany breathed, her smile curving against her skin.

For once, Santana found herself without a comeback – and she didn't even mind. Letting out a deep breath, she drank in the comforting presence that surrounded her as her thoughts reluctantly turned to considerably darker prospects.

"I have to tell them," she said at last, speaking firmly despite the fear that curdled in her stomach. Santana tried not to think about the anger and disappointment that would cloud their faces, changing the way they looked at her forever. What would they do? Her brow furrowed in dread but she forced herself to continue. "I have to tell them before someone else does."

Brittany said nothing, her breath fluttering against her lover's cheek as she rested her forehead against hers, her touch calming the Latina in a way nothing else could.

Santana sighed, closing her eyes. "This is going to be fucking awful."

"I'll come. You know I will," Brittany urged softly. "If you want me to."

She managed a small smile. "I know."

The girls fell into a fierce hug, Santana breathing shakily as she wrapped her arms tightly around Brittany's neck, fighting back the hot sting of tears.

"I can't do this…without you."

"You don't have to," she murmured back, stroking her hair lovingly. "You won't ever have to. I promise."

Santana smiled as she heard her whisper the familiar words in her ear, a vow that she held closer to her heart than anything else, and found herself wondering again how she could have ever deserved the love of someone like Brittany.

"I'm yours. Always and proudly so."

[o]

AN Santana pretty much became my hero for slapping Finn in 'Mash Off', not to mention the last five minutes of that episode was an absolute killer. A perfect combination of music and emotion pulled together to deal one hell of a crippling blow. I have a definite soft spot for this couple and this little scene was born after listening to the Troubletones' mash up for the tenth time. I was originally going to try and include this scene in my Season Three re-write – but I finally decided it really needed to stand on its own.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading. As always, I love to hear what you think and reviews make my muse smile :)