A/N: I am so sorry this took two weeks! I completely forgot that I had a weekend long orchestra rehearsal last weekend, so I didn't manage to get any writing done then!
Thank you to everyone who has read/favourited/alerted/reviewed this so far, it really does feel awesome every time I get an email notification telling me someone new is reading this!
I hope you all like this chapter, and thanks for reading and any reviews in advance :D
Quinn had noticed that not only was Santana missing for the afternoon, but Brittany too, including at Glee and figured that Santana had finally talked to Brittany.
Or that she had finally hurt Brittany so badly that even she wouldn't forgive her and they had both gone home – separately – to mope.
Santana and Quinn had defiantly had a turbulent friendship, but Brittany was an important friend, and Quinn had been privy to what she referred to as 'Brittany's Santana'. The Santana that made up lullaby's for Brittany when she couldn't sleep, the one that would listen to everything Brittany would say and take the time to understand it, the one that would help Brittany through English and Spanish class and beam with pride at every aced maths, science and sports result she got. So she cared that Santana seamed to have been going through, even if sometimes it was only because when Santana was upset that meant that Brittany was upset.
Once Glee had finished and neither one of her friends were answering their mobiles, Quinn debated between going home and going to find them. She drove past Santana's house (the closest by a total of one road) four times and opened and closed her car door half a dozen times before she edged towards the door and pressed her finger to the doorbell. But the house was completely dark, apart from the safety light in porch, and no one answered, so Quinn drove onto Brittany's house and walked slowly up the pathway fingers nervously playing with her car keys.
She didn't really know exactly why she was nervous. Maybe because broken Santana was still the scariest side of Santana she had seen. Maybe because she was afraid that Santana's attitude adjustment had finally broken Brittany's patience. Or maybe just because she was desperate for them to be okay again when she was finally trying to sort out her own future and finding out things about herself. She needed her happy Brittany, and consequently a bearable Santana, back. She lifted the knocker twice (a lions head with a bright pink sparkly tongue and red sticker eyes that Brittany and Santana 'improved' one Halloween) and when that didn't get a response she held her finger to the doorbell, until the unmistakable pounding of Brittany running down the stairs (she always said stairs were to be taken as fast and exhilaratingly as possible) and she pulled her hand away, shoving them both into her pockets.
The door swung open hesitantly, and Brittany's head appeared in the gap. When she saw Quinn, she opened the door wider, her face scrunching into pleased confusion.
"Quinn?" She switched from foot to foot and then leant against the doorframe in feigned comfort.
"Hey Britt, I um, noticed that you and Santana weren't in school this afternoon. And no one is at her house. Is…is everything okay?"
"Yeah, her parents are at some…experimental drug conference." Brittany was deliberately avoiding Quinn's main question. She always hated lying to Quinn, especially about Santana, but this wasn't something she could tell, or even hint about to Quinn. Only Santana could.
Quinn waited for Brittany to finish, and cocked her eyebrow with a small smile gracing her lips. "And Santana? Is she, are you both okay? She's here right?" Brittany nodded slowly and bit at her nails nervously.
"Yeah. She's here. We um, left, because, well, Lord Tubbington is trying to quit smoking, and I didn't trust him to not go and get some smokes and I can't hold him back by myself, he's put on even more weight since quitting, and so Santana offered to help." Brittany was speaking monotonically and avoiding Quinn's eyes, an obvious sign, along with her obfuscating, that she was answering Quinn's question without actually answering it at all.
"Really Britt? It's me. I know you're not stupid."
"I know. But that's-" She was stopped by a tanned hand pulling at Brittany's hand in her mouth interlacing their fingers and Santana's head resting on her shoulder.
"It's okay Britt. She can come in. I mean. If she wants. Or whatever." Santana's voice was still unusually quiet and broken sounding, but she looked better and less afraid than outside the choir room, and Quinn nodded, her smile increasing genuinely. "Whatever. Come on Fabray." She tugged at Britt's hand who willingly followed Santana back up the stairs.
"Close the door, please, Q." Brittany called quietly over her shoulder. Quinn hummed in agreement and had to hold back the giggle at Brittany's obvious staring at Santana's arse and legs as she followed her upwards. By the time Quinn reached Brittany's room, they were both already sitting comfortably on her bed, Santana curled like a cat in Brittany's lap and she patted the space near the end for Quinn.
"Come on Fabray. Britt cared enough to leave you space. Sit." Quinn hesitated again. It wasn't that she didn't want to join them, in fact this easy, yell-free reunion was more than she could have hoped for, but this was a big part of her plan for getting her life back, and she almost couldn't believe that Santana was handing it to her on a plate. It wasn't until Brittany held out the hand that had been trailing up and down Santana's back and wiggled her fingers that she smiled and bounced, actually bounced, onto the bed.
Santana had already tucked herself back into Brittany (Quinn couldn't help but notice just how small and fragile Santana looked in Brittany's lap) whose arms encircled her protectively, fitting together so effortlessly in a way they had always done, a way that had always made Quinn jealous. But now, it made her feel warm, content. Like the love pulsing between them was so strong that she couldn't help but be touched by it, feel it draped around her shoulders and trickling between her fingers. The silence was so comforting, but Quinn's curiosity was burning, the questions bubbling in her throat. "So, are you okay? Both of you? Either of you? I mean what happened? Are you okay?" She couldn't help that her questions tumbled out at once and that, Santana at lest, didn't get at lest half of them. She tensed, her eyes squeezed shut, in preparation for Santana's signature annoyed glare and Brittany's confused scrunch-y face, her head tilted to the side. But instead she was met with Brittany's musical giggle and Santana, unmoved, still moulded against Brittany. Quinn led out a loud, shuddered breath and smiled softly. "I'm sorry. I just…You've been acting so different S, scary different, and Britt, you've cried more these past few days that I've seen you cry in forever. I was worried about you guys." Brittany smiles wide pulling Santana closer and resting her head on Santana's crown and weaving their fingers together.
"No one breaks up the Unholy Trinity Q." Santana's voice was soft, and slightly muffled from the fabric of Brittany's shirt, but it was firm and she saw Brittany nod her head in confirmation. But they still didn't answer Quinn's question, and she tried to not ask them again. At lest not quite as frantically.
"So…" Quinn let the question hang in the hope that one of them would answer it. She pulled at the blanket underneath her and shuffled uncomfortably her eyes drawn to where the notches on the bedpost had all being filled, baring two, one with a tiny 'A' next to it and one with a bigger 'S' and flowers and hearts next to it. "Are you okay?"
Santana sighed heavily and moved her hand so that her fingers were pressed against Brittany's jaw. "Britt, can you, I mean, I don't think I can. Not again. If she wants to know, tell her. If, well, if that's okay?" Brittany walked her fingers along Santana's arm, pushed her fingers through the gaps in Santana's fingers and pulled them towards her lips.
"Yeah Dollface." She hushed and pressed a soft kiss to Santana's hand. She cleared her throat as if preparing for a speech and nervously pulled Santana closer, then started to rock slightly, Quinn's head tilted to the side intrigued. She had seen a lot of their behaviour, even behaviour that happened when they thought no one was watching, but she had never seen this. She couldn't help but notice that Santana both relaxed and curled tighter into Brittany and she smiled. "Okay. So, um, yeah we're okay Q. Or, well, I mean, we are, but we will be too." Quinn's face wrinkled in confusion and Brittany sighed in frustration. "This is why I shouldn't explain things Dollface, no one else understands me." Santana smiled and kissed Brittany's shoulder, nudging Brittany's jaw with her nose. "Okay. I mean, something horrible happened and…and we're better, but not completely fixed. But we will be. Does that make more sense?" Quinn dipped her head in agreement and smiled, waiting for Brittany to go on. "Good. Um…I, I don't really know how to start this." Brittany fell silent and Santana tensed, looking down at their linked fingers.
"I'm sorry Britt. I can, I shouldn't have asked you to do it. This is my problem." Santana sat up slightly so that her cheek rested against Brittany's warm, flushed one, but she couldn't bring herself to look Quinn in the eye. "This was my mistake, I can tell her."
"No. No this wasn't your mistake. It wasn't a mistake." Brittany wriggled and shuffled until they were back in their original positions and looked determinedly at Quinn, her thumb stroking along Santana's cheek absentmindedly. "I'll just start at the beginning. Did you notice when Santana…" Brittany still didn't know how to describe Santana's change, instead moving her head from side to side and shifting her eyes from Quinn's shoulder and back to her eyes in the hope that she would understand.
"Yeah, well, I think. It was a little after Blaine got slushied right?"
Brittany nodded and Santana gripped her hand tightly. "Well, you know how no one wanted to do anything about it? Except maybe sing another song and have a group hug." Quinn snorted and couldn't help the grin that pulled at her lips. "Well, Santana had a plan, she was going to go to Dalton and force Sebastian to admit that they had messed with the slushie and record him saying it, secretly, and then we would have proof, and then Mr Schue would have to do something about it all. And not just a meeting about how we are better than them." They fell into silence and Santana pulled her eyes towards Brittany's, both of them smiling gently at the other and Brittany's index finger traced over Santana's cheek bones, her jaw, the bridge of her nose, her lips and the curve of her eyebrows. Quinn felt a flood of pride and warmth at seeing how far they – well, Santana really, Brittany always knew that she loved Santana and didn't care who knew it – and simultaneously uncomfortable; like she was breaking their intimacy bubble, tainting it with her presence. Santana kissed Brittany's finger and their foreheads rested against each other for seconds before Brittany turned back towards Quinn and opened her mouth. The words tumbled and swirled around Quinn like a stream from Brittany. Sometimes so fast and jumbled and loud and powerful that Quinn had trouble understanding them, not quite able to hear every single word, the meanings trickling down her skin, slipping through her pores, pricking at her brain until her heart ached. Sometimes the words were so slow and so forced and so quiet like Brittany was experiencing Santana's pain and hurt and Quinn could feel the anger crackle throughout her. The last word bounced around the room, Santana now flush tightly against Brittany; if their skin tones weren't so contrasting Quinn wouldn't be able to separate them.
Suddenly Brittany shifted forward, dragged her thumb across Quinn's cheek, then pulled her close sandwiching herself between the other two.
"Oh Quinn. Let it out." Brittany continued to whisper comforting words and held her close, her wrist twisted so that her thumb continued to brush away the salty tears. Not that anyone in Glee club would know, but Brittany had always being the 'mother' of the three of them. She was so perfect at reading emotional situations and the best way of making people feel comfortable (or uncomfortable if she didn't like them or wanted to punish them) that both Quinn and Santana found comfort through her.
Eventually Quinn untangled herself (they had been in that position for so long, even Santana's fingers were resting between Quinn's on Brittany's leg) pulling at the skin under her eyes. "I'm okay. I'm good. San, I, God I'm so sorry." Quinn had a hundred more things to say but was shocked into silence by the stern look Brittany was giving her.
"No." Her voice was far harder than Quinn had ever heard and her mouth opened and closed in confusion. "No. Santana isn't a victim. Not now, not in the future. When Tucker tried to rape me," Brittany was pleased Santana only tensed her hands. "The worst was when people looked at me like I was some helpless pitiful victim. I wasn't. Santana isn't. She's strong." Santana sat up and pressed her fingers against Brittany's lips, smiling adoringly at her.
"I think she gets it B. And by that stupid ass fish impression, I think you've shocked her into silence." Santana turned to look at Quinn, her eyes glinting softly.
"Sorry Q." Brittany's voice was back to normal and Quinn's muscles relaxed and she smiled back.
"No, I understand B. But can I be sorry that it happened? And think that Sebastian is a horrible, horrible person?" Brittany nodded and gently pushed Santana from her lap. The room was blanketed in darkness and Brittany slid in her sleep socks on the hardwood floor to the light switch. After she flicked it on she slid over to the chest of draws and pulled out three sets of sleep clothes, throwing two on the floor and the third on the top of the drawers. She turned back to face the bed then pulled off her Cheerio's uniform. Quinn felt a small heat flood her cheeks and she quickly averted her gaze to the blanket on the bed. She was used to girls changing in front of her, after being on Cheerio's and in dance groups for so long she had to become comfortable with girls confidently stripping down, changing costumes or removing layers. But watching Santana watch Brittany, her hands fisted in her lap, legs tightly crossed, lips between her teeth and dark eyes flickering lovingly over Brittany's slowly exposed skin, she once again felt like she was intruding on them. She didn't lift her eyes until she heard the gently swish of Brittany's socks and the dip of the bed as she sat down. Brittany had a set of sleepwear in each hand and tucked her legs underneath her as she lent her body against Santana.
"Are you going to stay Quinn? I've got extra sleep stuff?" Quinn's eyes flickered between the clothes in Brittany's outstretched hand, the little green luminescent numbers of her clock (they read 10:47, and Quinn couldn't help but wonder where the hell the evening went) and Santana, who was avoiding Quinn's eyes pulling the sleep shirt over her head (Ohio State Contemporary Dance Competition 2010 on the front, and, Quinn knew, PIERCE First Place on the back, the obvious ownership through Brittany's choice in shirt amused Quinn) and nodded emphatically.
"Yeah. That would be really nice B." Before the numbers had moved to read 11pm they were all three curled under the covers, Brittany in the middle, a protective arm around each of them, Santana and Brittany's legs tangled intricately. At some point, Santana's arm slid across Brittany's abdomen and her fingertips pressed against Quinn's.
Quinn awoke first a chill spread along her body. She begrudgingly opened one eye and discovered the reason for the drop in temperature. At some point Brittany had turned away from her curling her whole body around Santana's their noses touching. She laughed at being excluded unintentionally, and gently pulled herself from the bed, stretching her arms high above her head and pulled on her clothes.
She moved off to lean against Brittany's desk, her eyes resting on her two friends curled around each other, legs still twisted, fingers interlaced, connected from head to toe. Santana still looked impossibly small, and Quinn felt a sharp ache at the memory of what Santana had gone through. She couldn't believe how much pain Santana must have felt and locked up inside herself, letting it eat away at her little by little, so much suffering and self loathing that she couldn't even tell Brittany. Quinn reached across the bed, brushed some of Brittany's hair from her face and pressed her palm softly against Santana's cheek before she left, the shirt and shorts folded on Brittany's desk chair, with a post it note on top.
"You guys had stolen all the covers, and were way too adorable to wake up. I'll be back later if that's okay? Text me and let me know. I can bring movies and dots if you want?
Q
X"
Santana woke a couple of hours later, strong, warm arms around her torso sprinkles of sunshine against her eyelids and a feeling of being watched pricking at her skin. But it felt comforting, peaceful. It was the first morning she had woken after not only a full night's sleep but without fear or cold sweat prickling at her skin. Brittany noticed the shift in Santana's breathing and pulled her closer, fingers running up and down her spine.
"Good morning Dollface. Did you sleep well?" Brittany's voice slid across Santana's lips and she nuzzled closer, nodding and sighing contentedly.
"So good Beautiful." Santana's voice was scratchy with sleep and her tongue slid along her dry, slightly cracked lips making Brittany's stomach clench in want and happiness. "I always sleep better with you." Santana let her eyelids flutter open and found blue eyes looking right back at her, bright and calm and loving. Santana pulled her hand from between them fingers scratching and pulling at the skin behind Brittany's ear, who hummed in pleasure, the sound vibrating in her throat like a cats purr. "Did, um, was I the reason you were crying?" Santana's small voice made Brittany's brow crinkle in confusion. "Q said you had cried loads this week. Was it 'cos of me?"
"Oh." Brittany turned her head slightly so that Santana's fingers would continue to press and stroke and scratch at the skin behind Brittany's ear. "Well, kinda, I suppose. I was upset because I didn't know what was happening but I knew that you were hurting. It was like last year, only, so much worse. At lest then I knew a little of what was going on. You just, you shut down on me. Completely." Brittany's eyes pulled down to the side where their fingers were still teasing each others. "It scared me. It scared me so much Santana. I didn't know what -" She was cut off by Santana's mouth crashing against her own, messy, wet, teeth crashing and not quite aligned correctly. But it was perfect, and Brittany couldn't help the rumble of a moan in her throat. Her hands slid over Santana's back then moved her fingers down her spine increased pressure on each protrusion. She reached Santana's tail bone, lips still connected, slower and calmer now, palms resting almost flat on her arse and instantly Santana stiffened. Her body shuffled, wriggeled and their lips unstuck, yesterdays persistent lip gloss smudged and mixed, lips swollen and darkened.
"I can't. I'm sorry. Not yet. Please. I can't. God, I can't." Santana's words bubbled over like water from a hose pipe under pressure. "I'm sorry Britt. I can't. I can't. I'm sorry. I'm not –" Brittany was shocked at first, after all, Santana had initiated the kiss, a kiss that was desperate and loving and lustful all at once. But as soon as the stream of words reached her, her heart clenched and she reached forward, with a single finger, to press against Santana's lips.
"Shh, I understand." She ran her finger across Santana's cheek until both her hands were resting behind Santana's ears, thumbs still on her cheeks and fingers reaching into her hair. "I understand. It's okay Sanny, you don't need to explain. I know remember?" The wildness in Santana's eyes died away and she tilted forward slightly so that their foreheads were pressed against one another's. She nodded and closed her eyes, pressing harder against Brittany. "How about we go and get breakfast? My parents will be at my sister's football game, so we have a couple of hours before they'll be home." Suddenly Brittany's mind shot to the small tape in her bag. She desperately wanted to ask Santana about it, but it wasn't the right time, everything was too raw and exposed.
Soon.
It wasn't until Quinn text Brittany, asking if it was still okay if she came over that they remembered that Quinn had been with them last night. It was close to one in the afternoon, and they were still alone, Ashley, after helping to win the match (apparently, Brittany was less than convinced), had been invited to a pool party (which Brittany thought was ridiculous, it's January! Like, full on winter, but it meant that she got more time alone with Santana so she didn't question Ashley) with her other team mates and their parents. Brittany turned her phone towards Santana before replying, letting Santana know that it was her decision. She smiled slightly and nodded before grabbing the phone in one hand and sliding the fingers of her other between Brittany's now empty ones as she replied.
'Yeah Q come over whenever. Bring Dots. And movies. S + B'
Santana pressed send and pulled Brittany back up the stairs by her fingertips, somehow their grip still crocodile-strong, until they sat side by side on Brittany's bed; legs pressed together, shirt sleeves rustling and skin warm and pulsing where they touched.
They were still sitting like that, in perfect silence when Quinn let herself into the house, lightly ran up the stairs and stopped, leant against the doorframe of Brittany's room. Brittany noticed her first, eyelids flickering open and she smiled, a smile that widened when Quinn held up the box of Dots and shook it gently.
"You always make so much noise Fabray!" Santana opened a single eye and glared at Quinn, but it didn't hold the venom of a true Lopez glare, and her tone was amused. Brittany smoothed her hair back and shushed her while simultaneously reaching out and wiggled her fingers for the box of Dots. Quinn couldn't help the giggle that bubbled through her throat and she threw the box towards Brittany while she walked towards the DVD player, folding herself onto the floor, placing all the DVDs in front of her.
"You didn't get my note did you?" Brittany looked away from Santana and her forehead scrunched in confusion, her head tilted. When Quinn didn't elaborate, Brittany just shrugged and shook her head. Quinn forced the air through her nose and stood, reached towards the desk chair and pulled off the post-it note before she flicked it towards the end of the bed. Brittany leant forwards and pressed her finger against the adhesive to lift it in front of her eyes. Santana's eyes had never left Brittany, and she couldn't help but laugh, not even caring what the note said.
"Aww, Q thinks we're adorable Sanny!"
"I distinctly remember saying 'were' adorable." Quinn smiled slightly before twisting back towards the TV screen and the pile of DVDs.
"Pfft Brittany's always adorable, especially when she sleeps." Quinn heard Brittany giggle and the rustling of the Dots box as Brittany searched for all of the orange ones for Santana, the lemon ones for herself and the strawberry ones for Quinn. All the other flavours would be grouped together by flavour on the ripped, flattened Dots box for anyone to eat.
They had split sweets this way ever since Quinn met them; Brittany told her it was because the first box of Dots she had ever eaten was with Santana, who told her, to get the best taste was to eat as many Dots as possible of the same flavour in one mouthful. (Although, she whispered to Quinn much, much later, it had more to do with Santana's need for organisation and uniformity than anything else as she grouped all her food together, different foods not touching on her plate and everything eaten in an order. Brittany thought it was adorable and took every possible opportunity to watch Santana sort her food this way.)
Quinn swivelled her head once again to face them on the bed and grinned at their comfortable domesticity. "So, what film?"
They walked into the choir room, hands swinging between them, and Santana was more than surprised when Mike and Tina smiled and waved towards them before turning back to Kurt and Blaine who both nodded in acknowledgement, Kurt with a small smile.
"Nice to see you two being sickeningly sweet again Satan." Mercedes voice reached them from the back of the choir room where she was unsuccessfully trying to look unaware of Sam's hand off the edge of her chair. Santana smiled gently back and nodded her head in acknowledgement before they both moved to sit by Quinn at the back.
"Thanks for this weekend Q. It was really nice." Brittany whispered as Santana lent against her shoulder and nodded slightly without looking at Quinn. Quinn nodded and hummed in agreement, her eyebrows creasing in confusion when she felt something stiff and scratchy being pressed into her palm. She looked down at her hand, but was stopped by Brittany's hands closing tighter around it and Mr Schuester walked into the room.
'Quinn, I need to talk to you about something important, but without Santana. Can you come to mine after Glee tomorrow and we can talk when she goes for her run? Please? B x'
Quinn sat awkwardly on the bed, hearing the distant sounds of Brittany kissing Santana goodbye and walking heavily and slowly back up the stairs. Brittany stopped in the doorway of her room, leant against the doorframe and tugged self consciously at the sleeves of Santana's hoodie that she had pulled on as soon as they got home. She couldn't quite reach Quinn's eyes, instead focused on the window that was still letting in the pale yellow of the winter sun. They stayed in silence for several minutes before Quinn unfolded herself from the blanket and walked over to her. She took Brittany's hand in her own and walked backwards, tugging Brittany along with her until they were both sitting on the edge of the bed.
"What's up B? What did you need to talk to me about?" Quinn's voice was quiet and she pushed back Brittany's fringe.
"I need your help. Santana, she, she won't go and talk to someone about the rape. I mean, she said she would eventually, but I don't know if I believe her. 'Cos she also said she doesn't need to and that she doesn't want some random knowing what happened. And I get that. I really, really get that. But, but…" Brittany's voice wavered and broke as distinct tears fell.
"But she needs to talk to someone about it to get past it." Quinn whispered as her thumbs brushed away Brittany's tears and she pulled the girl towards her. Brittany nodded into her shoulder and clung tightly to Quinn. "It's okay Britt, we'll think of something. It's okay." Neither moved until they heard the front door open, and Brittany's mother great Santana. Brittany stumbled over to the sink in the corner of her room and splashed water on her face to try and hide any evidence of her tears.
It didn't work though, Santana still rushed over to Brittany and held her face in her hands, but Brittany just smiled, covered Santana's hands with her own and whispered about being tired. Quinn was sure that Santana didn't truly believe her, but Brittany just pressed her lips against each of Santana's hands and suggested they watch a film in bed.
Quinn cleared her throat, uncomfortable at both the intimate moment she had just been privy to and the one she was about to intrude upon, and walked towards the door. But she was stopped by Santana who silently tugged on her wrist and Brittany nodded towards the bed and the three sets of short and sleep shirts.
That night they slept, tangled together, like they had a cheerleading camp when they were fourteen, pulling comfort and reassurance from each other.
Although Santana and Brittany were back to normal, giggling and sharing private touches and looks and occasional chaste kisses, Santana's mood in general hadn't improved. She had managed to make several Cheerio's cry from her overly blunt and sometimes cruel critiquing, and she still couldn't manage to sing. Every time she opened her mouth to do so, the words would get stuck in her throat, her mind flicking back to the clean walls and the cold wooden floor of the Dalton room and Sebastian's otherwise bland voice that had so quickly caused her pain. And so she settled instead for staring quietly at Brittany and glaring whenever she caught someone else's eye.
Brittany had noticed that Santana was acting like last year, like she was two different Santana's, one just for Brittany (and Quinn, sometimes even Mercedes, Mike and Tina) and the other for everyone else. She wanted to ask her about the tape and plead with her to talk to someone, a proper someone, but the words would get stuck in her throat and her brain would start to work too fast for her to speak in the right order, and she would just feel stupid and pull Santana closer to her; occasionally kissing her temple or her hands until Santana would smile and Brittany could pretend that there was nothing wrong, that the other Santana didn't exist.
Until the next time Santana needlessly snapped at someone, or glared at them when she thought they were too close to Brittany. And Brittany would once again want to question and plead.
But she couldn't.
Didn't.
She didn't know how to do it without breaking or hurting her Santana.
So she said nothing, and pulled Santana closer. A kiss to each hand.
Brittany's hand shook as she reached forwards, but the knock was firm, confident. Her fingers traced over the handle until a curt 'Come' reached her and she took a deep steadying breath before she pushed downwards and opened the door.
Coach Sylvester glanced over her glasses to see who had entered but instantly returned her gaze to the papers on her desk. Brittany momentarily wondered if they were really that important or whether Sue just wanted feign indifference and emphasise her power, until a small, cool hand pressed down onto her shoulder and her knees bent until she was sat on the uncomfortable rigid red chair. The hand was still on her shoulder, but when she began to worry her hands and shuffle her feet in apprehension, the hand slipped down her arm and into her own, fingers gripped tight.
It helped a little.
After what felt like days, Sue leant back in her chair (Brittany's mind flashed to the day Santana has whispered that that chair cost more than the piano in the choir room and that one day, they would be able to afford something so frivolously expensive) and pulled her glasses off, placing one arm thoughtfully between her teeth before her gaze flickered downwards to their joined hands.
"I thought you were with Boobs McGee, Airhead, not Preggers. If you're here to tell me you've downgraded and are about to break my head Cheerios' heart, and subsequently making her worthless to me, I will not hesitate to get that cannon back in full working order for one finial boom." Sue hadn't moved or changed her facial expression from anything other than vague disinterest, but the venom and certainty of her voice was more than enough for Brittany to know she was serious. Quinn squeezed her hand tightly and shuffled so she was sat even straighter in her seat. Even not being on the Cheerios' squad anymore couldn't stop her body automatically responding to Sue's voice.
"No Coach, nothing like that; although, we are here to talk about Santana." Quinn's voice was clear, confident and Brittany was grateful she had taken the lead. She wasn't sure she could talk about any of this without bursting into tears. An automatic Cheerio suspension even before being in Sue's office, let alone in her office and in front of her.
Sue narrowed her eyes, as if deciding on whether she should forcibly remove them from her office, or let them talk before forcibly removing them from her office.
"You have," She glanced at her wrist, even though there was no watch there. "Seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds Blondie One and Two." Quinn's mouth relaxed into something less than a defiant scowl and she turned to Brittany.
"Um, Coach, Santana said when, um, when Finn outed her and the ad campaign and everything she well, she um…" Brittany felt any confidence and control over her emotions dissipating like smoke in a strong wind under Sue's intense stare and turned helplessly to Quinn.
"She respects you and somewhat trusts you, especially after what you did from Brittany after Tucker at cheer camp. And the alternatives are Mr Schue or Ms Pillsbury, neither of whom are particularly," Quinn paused, choosing her last word carefully. "Proficient." Sue leant forward intrigued at Quinn's words and nodded slightly to tell them to continue. "Santana went to Dalton last week to get proof that they had messed with the slushie that hurt Blaine, and, um, they, they hurt her –"
Quinn was cut off by Sue's hand held forwards, palm facing them. "Nonsense. She's being fine at practise. A little more short tempered, but I just figured Airhead was withholding. She's fine. Now, Preggers, you have no place in this –"
"They, he raped her. At Dalton." The sudden silence after Brittany's voice in the room was thick and cloying and Sue's body tensed, her eyes flashing with something Brittany couldn't quite place.
"We need you to convince her to talk to someone, a councillor, a professional one, not Ms Pillsbury. She's said she will, but we're not so sure that she will without some, persuasion. Please." Quinn leant forward, hoping that asking outright would make Sue more willing to comply. She held Sue's gaze without blinking and opened her mouth about to beg even more when Sue nodded her head brusquely, pushing her glasses back onto her face and looked back down at the papers, a silent dismissal that they understood, hands still linked until the door clicked shut behind them.
It was at the end of the week when they began to discuss Reginal's, and Santana's anger at herself for still not being able to sing was bubbling closer to the surface than it had all week. She desperately wanted to sing at Reginal's; it was her's and Brittany's last year in New Directions but she knew that her recent disinterest (and Mr Schuster's disinterest in finding out the reason for her behaviour) wouldn't reward her with an important role, if any role, in the competition. To make matters worse, Santana couldn't help but feel that Mr Schuester's favouritism was more evident today than normal.
Mike and Tina were suggesting and experimenting with dance routine ideas (often Brittany would call out odd words causing Mike pause, considering each one before he agreed or disagreed, sometimes pulling Brittany up to demonstrate) but at every one Finn would find something wrong, or Rachel would condescendingly tell them how to improve it or Blaine would simply interrupt them with his own suggestions, often suspiciously close to the ones that Tina and Mike were explaining, while Mr Schuester just looked on, confirming with Finn the mistakes, nodding with Rachel and getting excited with Blaine.
Even the songs that Mercedes, Sam and occasionally Quinn were writing on the white board were being dismissed without votes in favour for Finn, Blaine and Puck's suggestions. Even Artie's suggestions were being ignored, as it seamed that Mr Schuester had taken their argument of the handling of how to deal with Dalton personally whilst Rory just kept throwing little balls of screwed up paper at Sugar who glared at him and continually shuffled closer towards Quinn's seat.
Brittany was stood just in front of Santana, irritated at being ignored; she was instead involved in a pop-n-lock competition with Mike (complete with pulling different faces) which caused Tina to be bent over in laughter and giggles to burst sporadically from Santana. Suddenly Rachel spun quickly and dramatically to face them.
"Will you stop messing about Brittany? This is serious, and would it kill you to help with suggestions Santana." Brittany had stopped dancing, but hadn't turned to face Rachel, instead tilted her head and crossed her eyes at Santana who couldn't stop the smile from reaching her eyes. A smile which instantly dropped at the sound of Rachel's voice.
"Stop being so childish and help Brittany. I know it may be a little confusing for you, what with everything going on, but I'm sure Santana can explain it." Santana narrowed her eyes, and her heart fell at the hurt looked that flashed momentarily in Brittany's eyes.
"She doesn't need to me to explain, Hobbit. And, if you weren't so busy salivating over Frankenteen, then you would see that she has been helping with the dancing. Not that any of you are paying attention to them." Brittany smiled both at Santana defending her, but also at her inclusion of Mike and Tina's efforts too, but Santana's gaze was still trained on Rachel.
Rachel stiffened at Santana's hard tone and Finn stepped up behind her, protectively. "Well, maybe she should make routines that actually fit mine and Finn's song suggestions. Then she would be making a meaningful contribution to this session."
"Or maybe you could all listen to someone else for a change, I'm sick and tired of the solo's automatically going to you, and all the romantic, sickly duets going to you and Finn, there are other people in this club that can sing better than him especially. Plus aren't we a team? This isn't the freaking Berry Hudson Anderson show. And –"
Santana was cut off by Finn's loud voice and she physically flinched at the volume and Brittany spun to face him. "Why do you even care Santana? I mean, you just couldn't be bothered for like a week and now you're taking out your boredom or whatever on Rachel, and it's not fair!" He took two large steps towards her and Brittany instinctively stepped even closer to Santana making sure she could easily get between them. "You are just selfish and mean and I have no idea what Brittany sees in you." Santana once again flinched at the proximity and volume of Finn (and, Brittany thought, at what Finn had said), but recovered quicker and opened her mouth to retaliate, but Finn was determined to finish. "Unless you make her do it, which also wouldn't surprise me."
Santana suddenly felt sick. All the fight seeping from her body.
Although she knew what he was suggesting was ridiculous (Brittany whispered and caressed and kissed and laughed her love for Santana every moment she could), her subconscious betrayed her and suddenly all she could think about was Sebastian's smirking face and the weight of his body and she pushed herself upwards with such force that the chair stuttered backwards and she marched out of the room.
The choir room was silent as everyone absorbed what had happened. Brittany moved her leg forward, about to follow Santana when she was stopped by a break in the silence.
"Well, isn't that just so mature and typical of her!" Rachel had turned towards the doorway and her annoyed, slightly hurt, voice cut across the room and caused Brittany to flinch.
"You don't understand." But Brittany's voice was horse, whispered, and Rachel didn't even turn to look at her. "You don't understand." She repeated louder, so that the whole room heard. Rachel turned, straightened a non-existent crease in her skirt and smiled condescendingly at Brittany.
"No Brittany, this is important. Maybe not to you, but I need to win, for college." Quinn's hand pressed against Brittany's shoulder in an attempt to calm her (Brittany briefly wondered when she had moved towards her), and Tina opened her mouth to correct Rachel, but only got as far as the first syllable of Rachel's name before being interrupted. "With Regionals coming up we can't afford to have members dragging us down. Ever since the slushie incident, she's being acting immaturely and selfishly. Honestly, I don't think she deserves to be in the competition group, let alone to sing. Just because she couldn't go all 'Lima Heights' or whatever it is she does, she's being acting like a toddler having a tantrum." Brittany felt tears pooling at the corners of her eyes and her fists clenched. She unconsciously stood and marched towards Rachel, until Finn moved backwards, protectively, in front of Rachel and she felt Mercedes and Quinn reaching out to stop her from going any further.
"Rachel is right Brittany. If Santana can't be bothered to even show up just because she didn't get her way, and then she can't even be bothered to sing, she shouldn't be here. I mean, Kurt's here, and it was his boyfriend that got hurt and Blaine's here and he is the one that got hurt in all of this." Finn towered over Brittany, his arms folded across his chest, trying to look simultaneously intimidating and the leader he wanted to be. Tears had started to drip down Brittany's face, tears of anger and her fits clenched and unclenched as she tried to control her breathing.
"Brittany, I really thing crying is a particularly childish response –" Rachel was cut off by Brittany yanking her body away from Quinn and Mercedes, taking another step forward towards Finn and Rachel.
"She isn't being childish or immature or selfish Rachel!" The obvious anger and volume of Brittany's voice shocked everyone into silence and stillness. "And I'm not sad crying, I'm so angry at you and Finn and Mr Schue." She turned her head to look at Mr Schuester, who was watching the scene play out like he had no control, even though he should have spoken and diffused the situation much earlier. "Actually I'm mostly angry at you, you didn't even take two seconds to find out why Santana was acting differently, or wasn't coming. You just assumed like Rachel. So I'm not sad crying Rachel, these are angry tears. Santana has done so much for this club, like getting Kurt back and the Bully Whips and going against Sue and…and…she went to Dalton to find out what happened, what they had done to the slushie that it hurt Blaine so badly. She was going to secretly record Sebastian admitting to it but…" Brittany couldn't finish. She was so close to blurting out what had happened. She always reacted like this when she was angry, especially when she was having to defend her loved ones, she couldn't help but let everything out. Like a tap with the washer broken, no matter how hard she tried, everything would drip out from her in the end.
"Well, I hardly think that justifies her behaviour. Like Finn said, Blaine was the one that got hurt in all of this not –"
"She was raped! She was trying to do you all a favour and she was…she got…she was hurting and you" Brittany stabbed her finger at Rachel and not even the look of shock on her face could stop the words from coming. "You, you don't even care!" Brittany ended yelling, her face turned red and her heart aching. She felt Mercedes hand on her back and heard Quinn's soft voice whisper her name, but it just made her angrier. "No! Get off me! I have to find Santana." Brittany turned and pushed the door open as violently as possible headed towards the physics room.
Once Brittany had left, the room dripped back into shocked silence. Quinn slumped back into the closest chair and Mercedes clasped her hands in worry.
"Dude, you shouldn't have said that crap about Brittany being forced by Santana." Puck was draped across a chair on the back row where he hadn't moved since everything had happened, but his relaxed pose was completely juxtaposed with the angry, focused stare aimed at Finn.
"I didn't know. I mean, how was I supposed to know that…that…that had happened to Santana." Finn's voice was child-like and he couldn't pull his gaze away from the door that Brittany had disappeared through.
"But you knew Brittany loves Santana. Anyone with eyes knows that." Mercedes' angry voice argued.
"Yeah, I tried to ignore it for ages, but even when she was with me, I knew." Artie's quiet agreement floated across the room. "I think Brittany's only ever loved Santana, at lest in that way."
Finn turned towards Rachel in the hope that she would defend him, but she was staring silently just to the right of Quinn's chair, her bottom lip worrying between her teeth, and he turned back to the rest of the room, his mouth opened in shock. "Well, I mean, none of you guys knew either. You were all just thinking what I had the guts, as the leader to say." His voice had regained some of it's strength, but he still sounded unsure.
"No. Tina, Mercedes, Kurt, Quinn and I knew something was going on. Even Rachel noticed that Brittany has been really upset this week." Mike stepped towards Finn, giving him his full attention.
"Even Puck noticed that Brittany was upset." Kurt's quiet voice joined the rest, and Finn turned towards him, looking hurt. "Look, Finn, I'm not saying that you were the only one to cause this," Kurt glanced pointedly at Mr Schuester. "Nor am I saying that Santana is the easiest to get on with or anything. But I mean, you outed her, and I know you've apologised, but you really can't understand how that must have felt for her; how scary and overwhelming and out of control it must have been. She was forced to tell her parents before she was ready, and then the advert and everything." Finn made a sound in his throat, but Kurt held up his hand to indicate he wasn't finished. "I know you didn't know about the advert, but yelling it in the middle of the hallway? Look, I know everyone gets a little…over the top and sensitive near to competition time, but I think what you said overstepped the line. And I feel horrible about what happened to her."
Finn felt angry and betrayed by Kurt's words, he hadn't expected Kurt to react like this, not after the bulling that he had been subjected to from Santana. "She was attacking Rachel! What, I'm supposed to let her get away with that, and now you all feel sorry for Santana just 'cos Brittany said that she was hurt? How do we even know it's true?"
Suddenly Mr Schuester walked into the middle of the room. "Guys, this won't help anything, Brittany seams more than capable of helping Santana, and if you would like, afterwards, I can call Santana's home to make sure. But for now let's get back to sorting out our set-list and preparing for Regionals. Rachel, you had a suggestion?" Many of the Glee members were shocked at his dismissal of what had happened, and even Rachel took a few seconds to register that she was being addressed. She cleared her throat, but before she could talk, Quinn abruptly pushed her chair back.
"Santana was right, you only listen to a select few members' ideas, the rest of us get relegated to gentle swaying." She was angry, not really about who got what solos – she had stopped looking for praise or distinction within Glee a long time ago – but she couldn't believe how easily Mr Schuester was brushing what had happened aside. Even Finn, although managing to sound completely insensitive as normal, wasn't blatantly ignoring it.
"Quinn, I take everyone's inputs into account when making decisions, especially for competitions."
Quinn rolled eyes slightly, her eyebrow quirked in disbelief. "Okay. Whatever. I need to find Santana." She picked up her bag walked towards the door.
"Quinn! Wait!" Mercedes jogged towards Quinn and leant towards her ear, whispered quickly and quietly then pulled back. Quinn's eyes flickered between Mercedes' own and the remaining members still sat on the chairs before she slowly nodded and walked down the corridor.
Ever since last year, when the astronomy display (including large colourful spinning mobiles and large dark blue swirling posters of twinkling white star charts) Brittany had spent hours in there learning about the stars and their origin and the mythology of their various names. So, by extension, Santana had spent her free time watching Brittany revel in the diagrams, soaking up the information like a sponge, making her face light up when she found something new and exciting. And when everything had blown up with Finn and the advert, it had become a kind of sanctuary for them.
Brittany reached the door and peered in through the triangular window, palms pressed against the cool wood. She could see Santana spread along a desk, her head directly underneath a mobile showing the transverse and cross section of a red dwarf and a super nova. She always said it was her favourite, how powerful they are, but at the same time so destructive, so self destructive, and so beautiful.
"Hey Sanny." Brittany reached the desk and ran her fingers down Santana's arm until their fingers met and tangled together. Santana still hadn't shifted her eyes from the mobile but she tugged at Brittany's arm, pulling her onto the desk and partly onto Santana's body. Brittany brushed her nose along Santana's cheek in comfort, happy to lie there until she was ready to talk.
"I'm sorry I yelled and let them wind me up Britt, I know you hate it." Santana's words slipped over Brittany's hairline and she couldn't stop pulling closer towards her.
"You need to talk to someone Sanny." Brittany's words were quiet and her fingers tripped and trickled all along Santana's exposed skin, paying particular attention to Santana's cheek as she leant into Brittany's fingers.
"I know B, I know. Coach came and talked to me. She gave me the name of someone in Dayton. I, I'm going to make an appointment for next week." Brittany squeezed Santana's waist gently, ecstatic, but not wanting to break the gentle calm they shared. She gently kissed Santana's chin, her lips lingering, and smiled.
"Thank you. Good." Another squeeze. Another gentle, languid kiss. Santana shifted, and Brittany thought she had done something wrong and an apology was pressed against her teeth, before she felt soft, wet lips pressed against her own and Santana's nosed squished against her own.
Santana pulled back slightly, their lips still connected by not kissing, her eyes closed and fingertips pressed along Brittany's jaw. "Will you come with me? Please. I can't do this without you B." Santana's voice was vulnerable and small and Brittany's hearted clenched. And she whispered
"Anything for you Sanny. Anything." Before she kissed her again. Santana laid back down, tugging at Brittany to follow her, and they looked upwards at the mobile for several minutes in warm silence.
"I know Coach didn't notice anything and that you and Q talked to her by the way. When she gave me the number she said that if I didn't go and she had to witness you trying not to cry in her office again, she would demote me." Brittany wasn't sorry for talking to their Coach, and didn't see the point in denying something that was so obvious, so she just nodded against Santana's chest. "I feel like I should be mad, but, I just feel kinda…achy that I made you cry. Again." Santana let out a shuddering sigh, a sigh that she was trying to hold back tears, and Brittany pulled herself upwards, her whole body pressed against Santana's and kissed her, hard, firm.
"No, don't feel like that. You didn't make me cry, me feeling completely helpless made me cry. I'm not sorry that I went to Coach, but I'm glad that you're not mad either." She paused and Santana's eyes continued to flicker between Brittany's steady ones. Then gently she nodded in acceptance, her hand tugging Brittany's face back downwards to press their lips gently together before Brittany settled her head along Santana's neck.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope I managed to keep the Glee club as in character as possible. As ever, reviews would be much appreciated, even if it's just to tell me how many mistakes I made! I'm sure there are some!
Hope you enjoyed this, review please? Haha! Thanks! :D