Title: Truth Can't Hide, Chapter 3/?
Author: Bladed Darkness
Category: Glee
Summary: Whenever Santana gets mad or frustrated she always takes it out on Rachel. After Santana and Quinn have the fight in the hallway Santana takes what's left of her anger out on Rachel. Rachel feels like she deserves it, after what she did to Sunshine (Rachel always think she deserves it, from years of slushies and verbal abuse). Brittany is the one that finds out when she notices some bruises on Rachel's wrists and when Rachel yelps in pain when she gets a Brittany hug, she pulls Rachel's shirt up to see fresh bruises on her stomach. Prompt at the Glee Feme Meme. Title comes from the song Truth Can't Hide by Karen Therese off her album, Warrior of the Heart.
Pairing: Hints of Brittana and Finchel, possible Pezberry and/or Pieberry (Brittberry).
Length: 1000+
Rating: PG-13, possible NC-17
Rachel may have put up with a lot in her life, but it only takes one person finding out her secret for it all to come crashing down around her.
Brittany's furious. It takes her only a second to figure out that those bruises aren't the kind one gets from messing up a dance number, and another second to dash off to the choir room, intent on only one person because in the back of her mind she can still see the mottled flesh and recognize how each mark is just slightly bigger than Finn's hand. Finn's giant, meaty hands. She's seen him tackle players and just how far he can throw a football. Not in a straight line usually, but that doesn't matter if he's hitting something. Like she suspects he is.
It's not until Rachel is wrapping her arms around the tall blonde that Brittany realizes the dumbfounded look on Finn's face isn't just because she's verbally attacking him or being unnaturally hostile, but because he really has no idea what she's saying.
It's Quinn who points it out. "Were you just speaking Dutch?"
Mr. Schue steps in at that point. "Brittany, what's going on?" Brittany shoots the group a look, wondering if any of them know about Rachel. She doubts it; hardly anyone knows anything about the singer other than the fact that she has a voice.
The dancer takes a deep breath, mentally switching back over to English to answer before she realizes Rachel is tugging on the back of her Cheerios top and instinctively wraps her arms around the petite singer lightly, taking a step away from the group in the process to ward off any eavesdropping. The greedy look in Kurt's and Mercedes' eyes tell her they'll be trying to hear everything, but they won't approach her and Rachel.
"Brittany, let it go," Rachel implores. "Just drop it."
"What?" She notices Rachel looking warily over her shoulder and gently grasps her chin to redirect her focus back onto the blonde. "Rachel, this is serious." She brushes a strand of the singer's still-damp hair behind her ear.
"I know it is, but you don't know what's going on."
"I'm not stupid, Rachel."
"It's not worth dealing with."
"I'm not stupid. This," she grasps the petite singer a little closer, still mindful of her mottled flesh, "is dangerous Rachel. You could get seriously hurt."
"I know that. But it's not what you think." Brittany eyes the brunette dubiously. She buries her head in the crook of the taller girl's neck. "Please, just trust me."
It takes a while, but Brittany finally nods and Rachel just looks at her in disbelief. "Okay." Rachel may be broken, but Brittany isn't going to be the one to shatter the diva by shredding whatever little peace of mind the petite girl is clinging to.
"Really?"
"I still want you to tell me, but yes."
Rachel smiles at her gratefully.
"What the hell is going on?" growls Santana, storming over to the two. The outburst startles Rachel and she flinches in Brittany's arms, inching closer to the blonde. The Latina scowls and Brittany frowns reproachfully.
"San," she warns, but Santana isn't looking at her. She's glaring holes at the little brunette in her arms. "Stop it."
Santana looks up at her then, surprise crossing her face for a split second before it morphs back into her usual disgruntled frown. She glances back down at Rachel and seems to recognize something in her expression before she nods. "Fine." Santana flops back down into her chair, irritation lacing her features. "Can we practice now?" she snaps, like she doesn't care about this most recent glee club drama, and Brittany admits that she probably doesn't. It doesn't affect her after all, except in the capacity that it's affecting the tall blonde.
It's Rachel moving in her arms that pulls Brittany's attention away from her best friend. "I'm going to be sick," Rachel murmurs, curling in on herself a little and impossibly closer to the cheerleader. The diva cups a hand over her mouth slowly, swallowing.
"Mr. Schue, I'm going to take Rachel home. She isn't feeling well," the blonde calls over her shoulder, steering them out of the room.
"I can take her," offers Finn, rising slightly, though he drops back down at the sharp look in Brittany's eyes, one completely different from Quinn's icy stare or Santana's fiery gaze. It's just as unbelieving, though, like the dancer doubts what he said, not at all the look of incomprehension he's seen numerous times before from her.
"No," the tall girl speaks with finality, before sweeping the tiny brunette out of the room. Somehow they manage to make it back to the bathroom to collect Rachel's things and out to the parking lot without any complications from Rachel's queasiness. "Get on." She slings a leg over the bike, Rachel's backpack slung over her shoulder.
Rachel's mouth moves for a second before she shakes her head forcefully. "Are you serious?"
Brittany just pats behind her. "It's not a big deal." Rachel bites her bottom lip. She offers the brunette her second helmet, which the girl reluctantly takes.
Brittany goes slow for Rachel's sake. Well, partially for her own as well, because she would rather not be puked on. She waits patiently while Rachel unlocks the door and follows her inside, slightly worried the singer would try to escape telling her. Once inside, Rachel doesn't seem to know what to do, however, so Brittany glances around.
She remembers a remark Quinn made once long ago, about how the Berry house was probably a shrine to Rachel, full of trophies and awards and year-by-year pictures of the girl. Instead the walls are a soft cream color, with photos of two men Brittany assumes are Rachel's fathers scattered here and there. Every odd once in a while a picture of the three of them will pop up, Rachel dwarfed by one father and herself overlooking the other one.
Brittany turns to the singer. "Do you want something to eat?" Rachel blinks up at her, and Brittany's not sure if it's because she's treating Rachel like a guest in the brunette's own home, or if she's waiting for the blonde to demand an explanation for earlier. "San taught me how to make these awesome sandwiches. I don't have to follow a recipe!"
Rachel just nods, not saying anything, which causes Brittany to worry ever more. A quiet Rachel is not necessarily a bad thing, but it's not a good thing in this case. If she was quiet because she was relaxed, it would be different, but a stressed out Rachel that is oddly silent is even more of a cause for concern.
The brunette is still silent as she picks at the sandwich, and Brittany watches her, trying to decide what is best. Pushing Rachel seems like the obvious choice, but she's not especially close to the girl and the diva may close off instead of opening up.
"Rachel," Brittany starts, finally deciding. "The bruises? Is someone causing them?"
Rachel doesn't meet her eyes, just stares at her sandwich. "Yes."
The answer to the next one should be obvious, but she asks just the same. "Do you want them to stop?"
"I don't know. No. Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes."
"Do you want Santana to kick their ass?" Brittany's serious with this question, but the brunette just snorts and lets out a peal of laughter. "I'm certain she could do it." Rachel laughs even harder.
"You think Santana would help me?"
"San will understand." Brittany's never been more sure of anything. If she can get Rachel to finally talk, and get Santana involved, then everything would be all right and Rachel can be safe again.
Rachel doesn't meet her eyes, just continues to fiddle with her sandwich. "While I admire your optimism, I do not think it's that simple, Brittany."
"Once she knows what's going on, she'll understand."
Rachel looks at her before shaking her head slowly. "No she won't."