I'm back. Thank you so much for the reviews and hopefully I answered your questions in response or they will be answered in this chapter. I truly appreciate you taking the time to leave me a little brain nugget about how you feel the story is going. lol
The links that were supposed to be in the first chapter will now be posted on my bio page.
Anyway, ENJOY.
Previously: 'Steeling herself, she prepares for confronting the girl and taking her down. The officer has always been good at concealing her feeling and this is the one time it really mattered. Pointing her gun at the door, she waited.'
Santana looked over the top of her gun at the door, tense with anticipation, ears straining for footsteps or screams or anything signaling the girl's presence but no sound was heard. Over the next few moments of dead silence, Santana went from feeling cautious to suspicious then from suspicious to paranoid. What…What if this garage has cameras and she's watching me? ….This could be a trap.
Santana's lips tightened into a straight line and she gripped the hilt of her gun harder, arms feeling achy from her previous activities. She had been keeping them still over an extended period of time, not wanting to be caught off guard. Her peeled eyes scan over the garage, sliding over every nook and cranny, searching for an indication of a hidden camera. She was beginning to feel a bit ridiculous but as her eyes passed over the rusted body of an old gutted car, she noticed an object sitting on the dashboard.
Its front was showing through the open windshield and upon further inspection her breath catches; a miniscule green light shines through the darkness of the empty car.
Oh God.
A jolt rushes through her, her stomach dropping. Her breathing speeds up as panic begins to overtake her. Slowly her right thumb slides back to the safety of her gun, gulping,Santana keeps one eye on the door and slowly creeps towards the object. She tries to ignore the thoughts she conjures of being watched by multiple masterminds who are waiting to capture and torture her.
"It could be…GPS or something, just calm down, Lopez" she tells herself, to ease her frayed mind.
She inches closer and closer, wincing at the sound of her starched clothes rustling; it sounded loud in the quiet area. Keeping her breathing shallow, Santana felt more aware of every movement of her body, knowing it is possible that she is being watched. When she reached the side of the car, she quickly reached out one hand to grab the object. Bringing her eyes down from the door to her hand, she confirms her suspicion. It's a camera.
Right after she came to that realization, she throws it down, watching as the green light deems. Panting, she grabbed at her walkie.
I can't do this. I'm not fit for this…This is too scary. It's like I'm in a horror movie.
Biting her lip, she feels a familiar tingle in her throat and prickling in her eyes. Attempting to grasp the walkie through her watery eyes, it falls. At the sharp noise it makes, her eyes widen, unshed tears shimmering within, quickly she moved the gun to her right hand, and bent over the grab the walkie. She had to stretch awkwardly to remain observant of the door. It had skidded underneath the car. Cursing her luck, she got on her knees trying to get the device as soon as possible, but she didn't expect to find a suitcase under there. It was the kind that needed a code to open, patting around the darkness her fingers found the short antenna of her walkie talkie. Dragging it to her by the antenna, she also dragged the surprisingly heavy suitcase; the Latina pressed the button to turn on the walkie then the button to communicate to her lieutenant, while remaining on her knees. The urgency of the situation went up a notch, because the suitcase most likely has 'the drug' in it.
Parting her lips she whispered, "098 here. I ne-" THUMP.
The rest of her sentence was cut off by a gasp. The loud noise was followed by rapid footsteps seemingly above her. Gasping she scrambled to her feet and trembling she put her walkie in its place on her belt. Cradling her gun in both hands, she kicked the suitcase trying to push it back in its hiding place. Hearing a creak near the door, her eyes shot in its direction. Deciding the leave the suitcase half under the car body, she scooted quickly next to the Ford Falcon, using it as a sort of shield. Squatting, she aimed her gun at the door, breath panting out. She was prepared to shoot.
The door knob turned then the door opened.
The blonde came in smoothly, closing the door behind her. Santana stared as the blonde seemed to search for something or someone. She stayed at the door, stiff. Her eyes were looking around the garage, near the old car body. Confusion settled on the blonde's face as her blue eyes took in the rearrangement. A wrench was in one hand and the other was in a fist at her side. As she stood still at the door, staring at the displaced camera and suitcase, Santana inspected the girl.
Her blonde hair was wavy and similar to way Santana first saw it in the picture. Her slanted blue eyes were focused in the direction of the camera but even from Santana's viewpoint, they were intense and seemed to glow in the dimness. When the officer's eyes could finally tear away; they naturally went down to the girl's lips. They were pursed and slightly twisted to the side. Roaming down the girl's posture, she couldn't help but notice it wasn't defensive and was in fact, vulnerable. Santana let her arms relax a fraction. Blinking, she took in the girl's choice of dress; a stained jumpsuit covered the girl. The jumpsuit was too big and her shoulder was exposed, the strap of a white wifebeater on it. The girl seemed to be void of a weapon but under that jumpsuit, who knew what could be hidden. Besides her perfectly toned body, her mind chimed in without permission. …which could harm me, she revised.
When the girl made a sudden movement, Santana held her breath, straightening her gun. Brittany had squatted, placing her wrench on the ground. Her next action was unexpected, she began clicking her tongue. A peculiar look was on the girl's face, she looked a bit excited and even happy. Now it was Santana's turn to be confused, as another bead of sweat slid down her forehead and past her ear, she watched the girl. Similar to how you call a pet, Brittany was tutting, whistling, and snapping her fingers. When a couple seconds passed her clear voice stated in a high tone, "I won't be mad that you knocked down my camera and tried to ransack my suitcase if you come out…I'll feed you." When more silence met her statement, the girl continued "I love animals, especially cats. Lord T is my favorite, but if you're a cat I'll try to take care of you. I might even take you home, if you don't mind smoking. Lord T seems to love cigars."
She thought an animal got inside of the garage and did this. The brunette recognized 'Lord T' as one of the things the girl was fascinated with, apparently it was a cat. The way she was speaking to what she though was an animal was odd. Santana recognized a pattern, the girl has talked to inanimate objects and animals as if they would respond.
..She is clearly mental.
Knowing this was probably the most vulnerable she would find the girl, seeing as she was without her accomplices, she needed to make the most of the opportunity and go down.
Just as she was about to read the girl her rights, her walkie let out a bout of static.
The girl's reaction was instant, she shoot up and instantly looked in the direction of her car still confused. But then her blue eyes landed on Santana's gun and the brown eyed girl practically could feel the girl's gaze… scratch that.. glare, run from the gun then up her arm finally landing on her face. Once those impossibly vivid cerulean eyes met her own wide coffee brown eyes, Santana literally felt frozen. Never in her life had she been caught in such a transfixing stare and she couldn't recognize the emotion behind them. Tentatively Santana rose up, intending on trying to talk to the girl; however, when the blonde's eyes seemed to darken, though it was probably an illusion from the girl's lowering eyebrows; Santana felt panic thrum through her once again.
Grasping her gun tighter in her sweaty grip, she detected the tense blonde's hand twitch into a fist nearly in sync with her. Santana's eyes slowly tore from the girl's eyes and flicked down to the hand. Taking it as a threat, the shaken officer stood up straight. Noticing the difference in their height even from a distance, she needed to feel like she had the upper hand.
When she rose, the girl seemed to grow even tauter, the blue eyes no longer focused on hers but on her left index finger; it rested on the trigger.
As if her finger was physically moved from the blonde's stare, it twitched, a tiny movement, but apparently Brittany calculated it as a possible attempt to pull the trigger and before the officer could process it, the girl was three steps closer to her.
A gasp tore from her throat, the girl was fast and now Santana felt genuinely threatened. Stumbling back, her words flowed freely from her mouth, directed at the scowling girl. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you. Do you understand?", Santana swallowed thickly. Her voice had sounded shaky to her own ears.
The girl just stared at her, eyes darting all around her, mostly focus on her hands.
She must not have heard me.
Santana parted her lips to repeat, but the girl took another step towards her.
"D-don't move." Brittany was now only 2 steps away from Santana. Santana made to move back again but her foot collided with a tire pump. The Latina lost her balance and fell on her side; her hands opened involuntary to catch herself, the clatter of her gun resonating through the garage along with a sickening crack coming from her wrist and a dull thud from where she hits her head.
A high pitched whine fell from grimaced lips as Santana cradled her broken wrist to her chest. Bottom lip quivering, her whole arm pulsed painfully. A lump formed in her throat, the pain on top of her vulnerability made her feel like a failure. The brunette's body deflated, her drive dwindling.
She was feeling lightheaded and faint, the room spinning around her. The brave face she usually wore became too difficult to put on and she just wanted to run away from here, to separate herself from this responsibility and danger.
She was close to giving up, but she knew she never could. Her mind never allowed her too. No matter if she was at her breaking point, her stubbornness and pride, refused to let her give in, ever. Living in Lima Heights Adjacent taught her many things, and as Santana drifted on the edge of consciousness, her mind conjures the memory of when she got bullied in 3rd grade for wanting to be a cheerleader without proper gymnastic training.
"Get up, Mija. Stiffen that upper lip, clean yourself up. Try again." Her mother said with a cigarette between her lips. She was watching Santana. The girl has been attempting to do a backhand spring, but with no training, she had landed on what feels like everybody part she has at some point or another. Grass, mud, blood, sweat, and tears stain the nine year old's clothes and face.
It was 9:30, which was your bedtime but you weren't lying in your bed, you were lying on the cold hard ground after you had fallen yet again just as you were about to land. Tears silently leak out of your eyes and you cover your face with your scraped hands. You had begged your Mami to let you stay up just this night to finally land this stunt; she had even missed her shift at the diner for you. But you have nothing to show for it.
Your mother watches impassively as you choke out to her. "Those girls were right, Mami. I'm a failure…I'm sorry."
Expecting her to just sigh and mumble under her breath while leading you back home. You jump when she's suddenly over you, demanding you look at her. Uncovering your shimmering eyes you look into her similar dark orbs. She points a finger at your chest and tells you," You're only a failure…when you stop trying."
Gazing at her you just nod your head a little. A very small smile touches your mother's face as she looks at you. You rarely see her smile anymore and unconsciously you mirror her smile right back. Suddenly she's standing up and walking back to the bench she was reclining on, ending the moment abruptly. She reclaims her cigarette and just before she inhales again she adds, "I didn't raise failures and failures won't live in my house, so I suggest you get back up if you want a place to stay..."
You feel your chest constrict at that and your face scrunches but noticing the terrified look on your young face, she quietly admits "…I…I think you've almost got it, okay? So don't give up."
At your mother's words you brushed yourself off and started again, invigorated by her words.
By 11:15 you had completed your backhand spring. You had never felt more proud and you're sure your mother hasn't either judging by the gentle head pat she gives you on the walk home. That day you came to realize your own strength and how far determination gets you.
The memory fades and Santana's eyes fluttered as she regained consciousness. She had probably only been out for around a minute, but quickly coming to her senses she remembered Brittany, the criminal. Jolting upright, she ignored the protests of her arm and made a move to get up. When she turned her head back in the direction of the blonde, she had to close her eyes as vertigo and dizziness filled her head with the motion. Opening her eyes, she searched for the blonde, only to find her a lot closer than expected. Brittany was hovering over Santana an ice pack in her hand and sweat on her forehead.
Brittany had been watching her as the memory played over in the brunette's head and Brittany didn't think she'd ever seen such a transformation happen while someone was sleep. The officer went from a strong woman to a scared little girl in a matter of seconds and she didn't think she's ever seen someone's face contort like that. Brittany saw her hit her head, but she'd also noticed the angle of her wrist. Not knowing what to do, she'd scrambled around looking for first aid but settled on an ice pack, not wanting to leave the girl alone. Just as she was about to place it on Santana's head she had woken up, leaving her awkwardly craned over the terrified girl. Brittany tried to show her she was only trying to help, but it seemed to scare her even more. Silently she watched as the Latina reacted.
Startled Santana grabbed at her gun with her good hand, pointing it at the girl's chest. The blonde's face had a worried look upon it as she looked at how hard the Latina's hand was quivering.
The girl reached out to touch her cradled hand or… maybe the gun, Santana didn't know which one, but she didn't want to wait to find out.
"Don't touch me. I know what you've done and I have the right to arrest you or even shoot you, so…you- you just do as I say." Santana panted, her hand was now shaking violently at being so close to the girl, whose hand was still outstretched.
Brittany once again just stared at her, but her expression seemed pitiful and maybe even guilty. Santana didn't understand Brittany's body language once again and grew upset at her silence. "Do you understand?!" Santana raised her voice.
At her volume Brittany seemed to finally look at Santana's face for the first time since she initially spotted her. The blonde's jaw clenched and she nodded slowly, moving her eyes to Santana's with what seemed like difficulty.
Lowering her hand, Brittany observed the officer, as if it was her first time seeing one… as if she couldn't look away. And instead of freezing at Brittany's obvious analysis of her, Santana also searched Brittany's face. Seeing the girl this close was overwhelming by itself and she had been trying to ignore the blonde's appearance but this close it was inevitable. She was stunning and Santana felt her pupils widening as they tried to take in all the girl's features at once. Santana's eyes hazily roamed over the girl's features, both strong and fragile. The long straight line of her nose to the delicacy of her lips, they were mesmerizing, but each seemed to be touched with sadness that seemed to grow the longer they looked at each other. Brittany's swirling eyes were calculating but intense and the brown eyed girl was beginning to think that was the only way she was capable of looking at her. Santana felt overwhelmed, looking at the blonde's anguish shadow her entire being. Santana's wrist was cramping in pain, but she still tried to hold up her gun. She knew it was pathetic and the blonde could easily just snatch it from her. And at the weakness in her limbs Santana didn't think she could even pull the trigger single-handedly, anyway. But that wasn't the point, she was going to fight and protect herself to the end.
…but staring at the beautiful girl in front of her, she didn't know exactly what she was protecting herself from anymore.
"Were you trying to kill me?" Santana eyebrows furrowed at the innocent question of the blonde.
Looking into her eyes, she could only see guilt with touch of apprehension amongst their depths. Santana didn't know what came over her, but she felt an all-consuming need to comfort and assure the girl that she didn't.
The blonde looked truly confused and to point a gun at the girl when she was obviously out of sorts, felt wrong to Santana. The officer found it surprising that even after what's happened, the girl's expression showed trust.
Purity shined through the girl's eyes and she may have been crazy to be honest with her but as she shook her head and lowered her gun, she felt like she did something right. Very right.
The blonde nodded then added another question. "Then why did you have a gun pointed at me?"
Santana set down her gun and used her other hand to help support her wrist. Nibbling her lip, she looked down at the ice pack Brittany was holding on to and shrugged.
"I was scared and I'd heard what you'd done and…I didn't know what to expect. I only wanted information. I was trying to arrest you. Sometimes we will shoot bad people in their arm or leg to keep them from hurting us or running, but we don't kill them unless they try to kill us."
Widening her eyes, Brittany whispered "I wasn't trying to kill you. I'm not trying to kill anyone…I don't understand why everyone thinks that."
Standing up Brittany, put an arm under Santana's knees and secured an arm around her back. Lifting "Let me help you." Brittany's quiet voice said into silence as she continued to stare into Santana's eyes.
Bowing her head and breaking eye contact she ran her a long pale finger over Santana's unimpaired wrist. "I didn't mean to hurt you so bad and I need to fix it."
Santana felt herself relax slightly at Brittany's tender caress, her eyes blinked slowly, longing to close. Brittany persisted, "Please let me fix it. I'll tell you what you want to know. I swear on….." Pursing her lips the blonde thought. "I swear on my whole unicorn collection that I will take care of you."
Santana faltered after hearing Brittany's voice. The blonde spoke low, so low she had to make her breathing shallower just to hear her clearly, but she'd heard her nonetheless.
Brittany continued, "Don't worry, Lord Tubbington will love you. "
Santana didn't know how to respond to that, so remained silent. When Brittany received no reply she lifted her head and when her eyes found Santana's again, Santana's head got another wave of dizziness and her head rested on the girl's tenses bicep.
Santana felt herself being drawn closer until her forehead rested in the crook of Brittany's neck with the taller girl's arm lower on her back, careful of not putting pressure on her injured arm. Santana felt her eyelids getting heavy and with a whimper she collapsed into the blonde's arms, crying. She didn't know what came over her, but she couldn't stop the tears. It was all too much.
She could only register the scent of candy and a pleasant buzz flowing through her at the points where Brittany made contact with her. The nearly unconscious officer knew she was in the arms of a criminal but with her eyes closed it felt just like she was being protected, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt cared for. That only made her cry harder, it was pitiful.
"This is all my fault…I'm so sorry." Brittany murmured morosely. "I…I didn't mean for this to happen…I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm so stupid. I should have listened to Puck and Quinn."
For a moment, it was silent as Brittany maneuvered the icepack around until she had it almost pressed onto Santana's wrist. "This is gonna be cold. It still kinda surprises me sometimes, so just be ready."
Santana tried to form a response when Brittany put pressure on her wrist with the icepack but before she could speak the girl continued. "I'm going to take you home, okay? Even though I originally was planning on taking home a raccoon or a cat, I will take you…to take care of you. You're hurting and its my fault…like always." The girl's quiet voice was calm, but underlying rage was hidden beneath.
"No…hospital" Santana protested weakly.
Brittany interrupted. "I can't take you there. It would be a disaster and I have to get home tonight." "Look, I promise on a double rainbow that I won't hurt you. Please,…just let me fix this. I know what to do, I swear. It's like…one of the only things I'm good at."
Santana was taken off guard by the girl's heartfelt tone. "….but I…I don't know you", Santana pleaded lifting her head to look at downcast sorrowful eyes.
"..you don't?" Brittany asked. Pulling back, Santana groggily shook her head.
"Well, I'm Brittany S. Pierce… and its nice to meet you."
Bewildered, Santana stared at the girl's serious face. Putting her head back on the girl's bicep she fought a small smile at the girl's ridiculous misinterpretation of her words.
…what criminal gives their full name to a police officer?...
Her thought process was interrupted by the girl slowly walking to her car. Brittany bent down to open the car's passenger door with her hand under Santana's knees and when it was open, she hip checked it to widen so she could slide the darker skinned girl into the seat.
As she was eased in, Santana rested in the seat and closed her eyes as consciousness ebbed away.
Faintly she heard her door close along with another one. Strains of noise tried to reach her ears, but she couldn't tell if it was music or Brittany talking, they sounded too similar. The haziness that clouded her brain made her wonder if she would remember any of this tomorrow, all she knew is, she has probably gotten herself into something way more complicated by allowing Brittany S. Pierce, to take her to her home.
And with that last thought, Santana drifted away, blissfully unaware of the impact this event would cause.