Chapter 3 : Yellow Rose With Thorns

I should have known better. Did I honestly think I'd have a good night's sleep? That exhaustion would consume me and my brain would shut off? I was able to sleep for a few hours, but now my brain is ticking through thoughts, what-if scenarios, explanations, and reasons like an old frantic typewriter.

What if they look bad? I can just fix them. Another surgery will fix that. If they can be put in, they can be taken out.

What if they look super hot? I'll get the attention I want. Guys will be forced to take a second look at me and they'll approach me for entirely new reasons. It's the exact thing I need to help sort everything out. If Kurt had girls all over him, there's no way people would assume anything. The same thing applies for me. If guys are all over me, nobody will think twice about Brittany and me. It will give me so much more time and space to figure this shit out.

I just want to be careful with everything that's happening between me and Brittany. Careful not to let her get hurt. She's carefree and people know that. This kind of secret doesn't hold as much weight on her as it does on me. Someone could hear that Brittany kissed a girl and think, Yeah, so. Brittany does what she wants. But if she's linked to me, and people find out…If my family finds out, the school, her family. I can't even begin to imagine what will happen. Brittany's just too innocent to have to deal with such judgmental criticism.

When we were little the two of us used to sit in her parents' garden and bury things. We'd bury food mostly, but we'd also replant all of the flowers. But there was one flower we didn't touch, because Brittany said it was just like us and if we moved it then might get lost. She said that I was the pokey thorns that kept the bugs away and that she was the yellow top, because her hair was blonde.

I'm not the same person as Brittany.

That's always been true. The harsh things I say and do to other people are for one reason, and one reason only. I mean, look what happened to Puckerman when he shaved his Mohawk. If I lose my thorns people will eat me alive. It's kill or be killed and if I show any sign of weakness or vulnerability people will pounce on me quicker than a starving lion.

And what's a yellow rose without its thorns?

What if Brittany's mad afterward? She won't be. Maybe at first. But she won't be. She'll understand. I'll find the words to make her understand.

And everything keeps coming back to Brittany. I know it's crazy what I'm doing. I know she'll be upset at first. She'll wonder why I didn't tell her, why I had to hide it, and why I did it in the first place. But I can't tell her now. I can't shake her shoulder, wake her up, and tell her strangers will be ripping into my chest in less than four hours. She looks so peaceful.

Her fingers are interlocked beneath me with half of her body on top of me. She's squeezing around my waist possessively. Underneath the combined weight of the two of us I can feel her knuckles digging into the middle of my back. Her face is nuzzled into my own and her sleeping breaths rhythmically slip down the nape of my neck. Her nose is flat against the soft skin that prickles whenever she gets close to it; it's a spot she's recently found and a spot that causes me to pinch my legs together whenever I think about her touching it.

I've been staring at the same spot on the ceiling since the second I woke up. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness so well, that I can now make shapes out of the popcorn bumps in the ceiling. In between my internal rants and justifications I sometimes find a tree or spell out someone's name in the bumps staring down at me.

The pacing of her breaths changed. Instead of it slipping down my neck, the air bumped into my ear. Another breath followed that bump. Then words followed it.

"You're awake." She whispered so softly the only reason I heard her was because her house was dead silent and her lips were now touching the folds of my ear.

"Yeah." My voice sounded foreign within the dark confines of her room. I'd lain awake in my own silence for so long that I had forgotten what it sounded like.

The wetness of her lips lightly touched in front of my ear. She paused and held her kiss. "Aren't you sleepy?" Her lips moved against that tingling spot she'd just removed her lips from.

"Yeah." This time I could hear the delicacy in my words. Her kiss had ignited way too many emotions at once. It felt like all my thoughts were trying to squeeze through the same door at once. I had to force myself to speak carefully and evenly, but when the word left my mouth it sounded far too controlled.

Her kisses always turned me on. Lying in bed with her, alone in an empty house, in the middle of the night made me want to touch her. It made me want to sneak my hand inside her underwear and push my fingers so deep inside her that I could hear her moans echo throughout the empty house. And now with her lips brushing against me, it made that want even stronger.

But after what happened earlier today, and with what's happening in a few hours, I'm not sure if I can without breaking down again. And I'm not sure Brittany will let me. There are only so many times I can freak out, before she decides to close her legs.

"Well close your eyes silly and think about boring things." She said and kissed the spot in front of my ear for a second time. "Like school. Or Mr. Shue's speeches." I felt her hands unclasp from behind my back. She pulled just one out from underneath me and rested it flat on top of my stomach. "Think of things that aren't important." Her body weight shifted. She slid off of me, until her chest pressed into my shoulder, her knees tucked in and her thighs hugged the outside of my thigh.

"Yeah. Right." The sarcasm from my words bit into my tongue.

From the corner of my eye I could see her staring straight through me. Her eyes flitted over different features of my face. She was trying to find an answer for my insomnia without having to ask for it. "What are you thinking about?" Her question was simple. She wasn't trying to dig. She was trying to help.

"Tomorrow. Well, today I guess." I responded. It was true, but not revealing.

Her hand lifted from my stomach until her fingertips were touching my jaw line and she was using them to trace and tickle below my cheek. Again, it felt like she was looking for an answer there. One she could just find with her hands, and one she didn't have to force out of me. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

Immediately I shook my head no and she tucked her fingers into a fist from the sudden movement. I pulled away from her and turned so I was facing her and resting my head on a balled up fist. She mimicked and mirrored my exact position. Her hand balled up and pushed into her cheek, while her elbow propped her head up. "No Britt. It's fine." I laughed softly just to reassure her and lighten the situation. "I'm fine. I promise. Your parents are coming to pick you up in a few hours. You can't tell them to turn around after they left their vacation." I reached my hand out and pinched a crumpled piece of her tank top near her hip. I focused on straightening the fabric, instead of the fact that I was giving Brittany false reassurance about how I was fine.

Her eyes moved down my arm until they stopped and watched my hand fiddle with her top. "I guess." She mumbled.

"Britts. You love racing." I stopped toying with the fabric and rested my hand on top of her hip. "You've been looking forward to this."

She attempted a shrug, but since she was using half of her body to support herself, it just looked like she was rolling her shoulder.

"What's that for?" I raised an eyebrow and with it followed the lifting of the corner of my lip.

"But I want you to go." Her bottom lip jutted out, until she quickly retracted it and bit it with her teeth.

This is about me…My heart twisted and for a second I thought it was going to stop beating all together. The thought of Brittany sacrificing something she loves so much for something this petty, my stupid panicking, is ridiculous.

I can show her I'm fine, cant I? She must be worried about leaving me after what happened earlier today. That's silly though. The last thing I want her to worry about is me.

I started to rub my hand up her side. And then back down. I moved up to her ribs, and then slid my hand back down to her hip. "Roll over Britt." I stopped my rubbing and patted her hip. "On your stomach."

She listened without second guessing. It wasn't in her nature to question me, or question things I asked her to do. Another reason why I loved her so very much.

I pushed myself up and swung on leg over her body.

She hugged and buried her face into one of the pillows as I sat on her. My center straddled her butt. "You need to stop worrying about stuff." I told her. I pushed my hands into her shoulder blades and started to work my thumbs into the stiff muscles. "And you need to be relaxed and loose for your race tomorrow."

She turned her face out from the pillow and rested on her cheek. I continued to massage. The fabric of her tank top twisted underneath my fingers. I slipped my hands out from her spine and down until my finger tips bumped into the mattress. Then I'd pull the skin back with me until I met again in the middle of her back.

Her body felt amazing beneath me. I loved everything about making her feel good, even if it wasn't sexual. Though I'm beginning to wonder how sexual this massage might get.

I'd worked from the bottom of her neck, all the way down to the small of her back. Now it was time to find another spot I had yet to touch.

I laid down on top of her, rested my chest against her back, and tucked my hands so they looped beneath and underneath her chest. Softly I started to manipulate the muscles there. I worked them between my fingers. And as I did this I kept my lips and forehead pressed against her back.

When I'd worked all of those muscles, I guided my hands a little lower until the stopped just above the elastic of her underwear.

I could go lower. I could touch her. Please her. But what if I couldn't? I wanted to so desperately. My body was begging me to touch her, feel if she was wet, force little noises out of her. But something was holding me back. The same thing that was begging me to touch her was also begging me not to.

So I stopped. I scooted up on her body until my lips pushed against the back of her neck. "Is that better?" I hugged my arms around her, just as possessively as she had done to me earlier. And before she had time to respond I started to kiss the back of her neck again. That was something I could do. I could kiss.

But unlike her, I didn't press my lips softly to her. I took her skin into my mouth and started to nibble, kiss, and suck it. I moved around swiftly, careful not to leave a mark. This wasn't about showing off something, or leaving evidence. I'm not even sure what it was about to be honest.

I started higher. My lips manipulated the dip between her ear and her shoulder. And each time I changed the spot I was kissing, my hands squeezed and my nails dug into her skin.

I scooted up so I was now straddling the middle of her back. I had to crane my neck down to find spots, but this way I was able to move easier, quicker, more tactical. I cupped both hands on either side where her breasts were and gingerly massaged with my fingers, and in turn worked my mouth against her heated neck. My kisses were ragged, passionate.

I started to push into her. My fingers gripped into the skin on the outside of her breasts, I rocked my hips, and pushed my center into her back. Each time I kissed I would relax my hips, but each time I took a breath I'd force and drive the growing sensitive spot between my legs deeper into her.

It got to the point where I couldn't bring myself to pull away. So I started to grind into the dip in her back.

My breathing was ragged and broken. And so was hers. Her breaths were rough and in sync with my grinding.

"Let me help." She said. Her words were throaty. It was difficult to understand her through my grinding pants and the lust weighing down her words.

"I can do it." I responded quickly. My voice was just as breathless and guttural.

I'd dug myself a hole. I couldn't stop, but I couldn't let her roll over and push her fingers into me.

But in between my rocking I had figured it out. If I could do it myself, without her touching me, and show her that I was fine with this kind of intimacy, then maybe she'd be fine and stop worrying about me.

I gave up all together on kissing against the back of her neck. Instead I kept my lips close to her cheek that she had turned toward me and continued to grind against her back. I slid hard. Up her back. And then I strained and pushed back down her back.

I tried to kiss her neck again, but my lips shook and broke away.

I cant. I stopped. All at once. I stopped my rocking. As much as I wanted to get off, and prove to her that I was fine, I couldn't use her. And deep down, even though that wasn't what this was about, it felt like I was using her to get off.

"Want me to help?" Brittany spoke up at my sudden cessation and restraint.

Fuck. Yes I do. Let her do it.

We both held still and waited for me to say something.

I forced myself to say these next words, even though I wanted so desperately to say them. "Yes."

I let her roll over underneath me as I sat on all fours above her. My heart was pounding. I was out of breath. My body was hyper-sensitive. I needed to finish. But I also needed to keep myself under control. I can't let my thoughts overwhelm me. I can't freak out.

Just focus on coming. Don't think about anything else.

I could feel how close I was. My legs were on fire. My clit was swollen against the constricting fabric of my underwear. I knew I was wet. I could feel the fabric sticking to me.

I closed my eyes. If I'm going to keep under control it'll be easier not to look.

She grabbed onto my thighs and slid her hand up.

One hand cupped my center. My body went rigid.

She squeezed. Everything within me froze.

She squeezed again. I came.

My body held firm, everything tightened. My nerve endings stung with the pleasure they'd been impatiently waiting for. Even though it came so quickly from her touch, my body shuddered. A gasp trembled through my lips.

She held her hand curved over my underwear and firm against the tender nerves still twanging beneath that underwear. And I held stiff. Even as I started to gently come down from my climax, I kept my eyes forced shut and my body motionless.

Her arms wrapped around me and she yanked me down on top of her. The pull caught me off guard and she was able to squeeze me into a tight bear hug.

I could feel my face starting to heat up. What did I just do? I can't believe I almost self-pleasured myself against Brittany. I'm a sexual person, but even that's a little more revealing and intimate than I'm used to.

At least my face is tucked away into her shoulder. At least I can hide some of the embarrassment.

"We forgot to pack your stuff." I said into her shoulder. The recognition hit me like a ton of bricks. Thankfully. It was able to completely void my mind of what just happened and fill it with the knowledge that her parents were going to be here in the morning, and they'd show up to an unpacked daughter and an irresponsible best friend that was supposed to help her.

"I packed stuff while you were sleeping." Brittany said back.

I'd only been sleeping for a few hours, so she must have been both quick and quiet. "Oh. Good." I sounded disappointed when I spoke those words, but I couldn't figure out why.

"But I didn't pack everything." She squeezed around me even tighter.

Maybe she didn't pack everything, because she got bored, because she didn't know what to pack, or because she didn't want to go...Or thought she might not be going.

"I'll finish for you." I pushed myself up and climbed off both her and her bed.

She sat up, hung her legs off the mattress, and watched me dig through her dressers. "I'll be back in a few days. And I'll text you and call." She said.

A sigh of relief escaped my chest. It must have worked. That little stunt I just pulled must have convinced her that I was fine. "Okay Britt." I turned and smiled at her.

The instant her eyes caught my face, I could feel my cheeks starting to heat up again. They were burning as the blush crawled from the corner of my eyes and down my neck. I still couldn't believe what I'd just done. I'm usually hesitant and shy about what we do in the first place, so when did it become okay for me to pleasure myself so openly like that?

As if she were reading my mind Brittany shifted on the bed and started speaking. Her words were hesitant. "I liked that."

Those words caused my stomach and every other organ inside my body to somersault. "Liked what?" I played dumb. It was easier to have her say it, than for me to already know what she was talking about and acknowledge that I knew.

"What you did. It was hot." When I looked over at her, she redirected her eyes and found something to look at in the dark room. "It felt good."

I didn't know what to say, so I just kept quiet. I nodded a little, but I knew it was too little and too dark in the room for her to have seen it.

"You can do that stuff more often. If you like it. Cause I like it." She stuttered and fumbled over her words.

What's with confessions recently? My confessions to Quinn, to Brittany earlier, and now this.

"Okay." I folded a few tank tops over my arm and set them on her dresser. "You can too." Again my organs twisted. Did she want to now? "Do you want me to...with you. Cause I can. Help you." I felt like an idiot for asking. I felt like a nerdy little freak who didn't know what to do or how to please someone. I should have reciprocated right away, and now I'm standing in her room as if I were an awkward teenage little boy not knowing what to do or touch.

"I'm sleepy." She yawned. I smiled at her honesty. And suddenly her recent confession about liking what I did, didn't seem so out of place. Brittany's always been honest. "I'll get you milk so you can sleep. But Puckerman told me that orgasms help you fall asleep."

I snorted and laughed. "Orgasms help him fall asleep. Or guys in general." I could feel myself lighten a little. "I'm just going to finish folding a few more things." I reached in her dresser and pulled out a few pairs of her underwear.

"Be right back with milk." She jumped off the bed and raced through her room. A soft thud echoed through the floor as she jumped over something. "And she leaps over the final cat hurdle." Brittany spoke like a one of those crazy fanatic sports announcers.

I turned and watched her cat only slightly fidget from the intrusive noise, before he curled back into himself and fell asleep.

XXXxxxXXXxxXXxxxX

"Hey." A soft voice whispered through my mind. I knew I was sleeping, but I couldn't remember the dream. The voice that had spoken to me woke me instantly. Someone shook my shoulders. "Santana."

I opened my eyes. Brittany was standing over me wearing her Fox racing shirt and a matching pair of pants. Underneath her arm was her cat, holding on for dear life. "What Britt?" I could feel the sleepiness in my voice dragging down at my words.

"Here's Lord Tubbington." She set the cat on the bed next to me. The mattress shifted a considerable amount underneath his weight. "He doesn't like to be alone when I'm not home."

"Hm?" I shoved my palms into my eyes and tried to wake myself up.

"My parents are waiting outside for me in the car. I've got to run." She leaned down and wrapped one arm around my neck before pulling me into a gentle hug. Nothing like the bear hug she had given me just a few hours before.

"Okay." My voice was still heavy and groggy. I returned the hug with both of my arms wrapped around her waist.

She leaned back up. "I have my phone on. So just text me when you wake up. I'll probably still be in the car."

"What time is it?" I sat up and continued to rub my eyes.

Instead of answering Brittany handed me my phone. 5:13AM. "Okay. I'll text you." I smiled.

She squatted down, picked up her duffel bag, and hoisted it over her shoulder. "Bye."

As soon as she stepped out of her door sleep started to consume me again. I'm a little grateful for being out of it when she said her goodbye. It made the reality of everything that was supposed to happen soon a little less real.

My phone jarred on my chest. I jolted up. Lord Tubbington flew off the bed and skittered away. I picked up the phone, Quinn was calling. "Hello." I said through the line.

"I'm here. At Britt's. Let me in. Or come outside. I've been ringing the doorbell for the past five minutes." Her words were short and filled with annoyance and impatience.

"Yeah. Okay." I hung up the phone and lumbered out of Brittany's bed. I checked the time on my phone. 7:30AM.

As I walked, my feet felt heavy, but my eyes felt even heavier. I could tell my body wanted me to forget about doing the surgery. But my mind was made up. It was the day of. After what happened last night, and after how hard I had to work to keep myself from freaking out, there's no way I won't go through with the surgery. Brittany deserves a friend who isn't self-conscious and selfish. She deserves someone who can stand up for her within crumpling like a pathetic crybaby.

I twisted the front door handle and pulled it open. Quinn was standing on the porch holding an iced coffee and harboring pinched lips and narrowed eyes. "What are you doing Santana?" She snapped. "Are you not going through with it? You're not even ready and we need to leave now or you'll be late."

"Oh." I looked down at myself. I was wearing a tight camisole and my underwear. I didn't even have a bra on. And then I looked up at her. She looked perfectly put together. A simple yellow summer dress and her hair pulled into a tight pony. Exactly as she had done when she was on Cheerios. "I was just going to toss on some sweats." I stepped back and let her inside the house. "I'll be right back."

I scurried away, just as Lord Tubbington had done when I jolted awake from Quinn's phone call. I wound up the stairs, darted into Brittany's room and started to scramble about. I needed to find the perfect clothes. What does someone where to a boob job?

"Wear those shorts." A voice spoke from the door. I turned to see Quinn standing in the hallway. She was pointing to a pair of folded shorts on the dresser. The shorts were Brittany's, but both of us knew that didn't really matter.

I walked over and grabbed the shorts.

Quinn stepped into the room and picked up a sweatshirt from the floor. "And here." She handed it to me. "This should be fine."

"Thanks." I said softly, not sure if she had heard me.

I started to pull the sweatshirt over my head, again it was Brittany's.

"I'm just going to say this one final time and I promise I won't say anything more. But are you sure you need to do this? We're not even out of high school yet."

"It's already paid for." I said and pulled the sweatshirt completely over my head. My eyes caught and ran across the bed. Sheets were tossed on the floor and the pillows were everywhere. It sure as hell didn't look like a bed someone had only slept in.

I continued talking and looked back at Quinn before she to noticed the bed, and in turn made an assumption. "It's really not that big of a deal. It'll take a couple of hours. I'm in and out." I paused and walked over to a mirror in Brittany's room. "I want to do this." I began to fix my hair and pull it into a pony-tail, just like Quinn's. "I've made up my mind."

From the mirror I made eye contact with Quinn. She smiled, but it was deflated and defeated. She knew I was stubborn and it would only piss me off to keep talking. So she just smiled.

We arrived at the clinic no more than fifteen minutes later. I sat in the waiting room with Quinn. My phone was tightly pinched between my palms. I had been thinking and searching and searching and searching for the right thing to text Brittany. Instead, I sat in the fake leather chair and shifted uncomfortably. My thighs peeled from the pleather each time I moved.

Quinn was in the chair across from me. Her nose buried in a magazine. I could tell she looked a little uncomfortable, but I guess anybody would be a little uncomfortable inside this place. It felt empty and deserted. The only sign of life was from the secretary behind the counter, who just typed away on her computer. The phone didn't ring, people didn't walk in, nurses didn't walk around. My dad was right when he said this place was private.

I flipped open my phone and started a text to Brittany.

Hey...

I deleted it.

Hi.

I deleted it again.

Hope you do well today. I think ur cat is mad at me. I scared him on accident.

I sent the text and shoved the phone into the pocket on my (Brittany's) sweatshirt.

"Are you going to come back with me?" I asked Quinn. I wasn't sure about how things worked and when they called my name I didn't want that awkwardness of her not knowing what she was doing. Staying or coming.

"I can." She didn't look up from her magazine. "If you want. They'll probably just have you put on a gown and start an IV. It takes a while for all that to happen and you'll probably be sitting in your gown for at least an hour or so." She looked up at me, her eyes wide, like she'd said something wrong. "I think. That's what I'd assume anyway. Doctors offices always take forever."

My phone vibrated before I could respond to Quinn. I opened it.

Give him milk. Not 2 much or he might poop everywhere. The car is boring. My parents are listening to old songs.

Another text from her arrived.

Nevermind. Now its a good song. About birds. I'll text you the lyrics as they sing. Its kinda slow so I might be able to keep up

I looked up at Quinn. She was still watching me. "You can come back...if it's going to take them that long." I said.

She nodded and returned to her magazine.

"I put Nair in Rachel's lotion the other day. When she left her purse inside Brittany's house." I announced. I needed to say something. I had to say something, anything.

Quinn laughed, but didn't look up from her magazine. "I was wondering what you were doing. I forgot to ask."

My phone vibrated.

And the songbirds r singing like they know the score

I didn't recognize the song. I've never really been much for the music that her parents listen to.

"Ms. Lopez." A male's voice called from a door that led into the back.

My phone vibrated again.

I can't text that fast. The songs already over and I forgot the lyrics. Google it.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and stood up. Quinn echoed my movement and we started towards the nurse.

"You can leave all your stuff in that locker." The male nurse said after we wound around through a few back halls. "Hair bands. Watches. Phones. Just so you don't lose track of that stuff."

I nodded. And pulled out my phone. I wanted to respond to Brittany, but it'll have to wait. I set the phone in the locker, took out my pony-tail, and continued with the man down the hall. Quinn right behind me.

XXXxxxxXXXxx

A/N: I struggled with the decision about the song Brittany texted to Santana. I almost didn't include it, but in the end decided 'why the hell not'. If anything, it adds even more to that scene in season 2. I just thought it was cute. My intentions with this story and all it's sequels are to keep close to canon. But sometimes I do take a few liberties and do add a few things that differ, or might be interpreted differently. If it 'can' fit with the show, then I have no problem writing it.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, because I like how it turned out. Next chapter gets into the 'big' stuff. It's the chapter I've been anticipating from the beginning.

Please let me know what you thought. Small details, the chapter as a whole. Anything. I love feedback and input. :)