Hello! Sorry it's taken so long to update, but I actually have a fairly decent explanation. I was in a pretty horrific car wreck about two weeks ago and broke my arm. Then, a week into the healing, it resnapped.

So that's part of the reason this chapter is so short. The other part is that it's Brittany, and we've already got a fair bit of her feelings in the past chapters with Kurt and San.

I'm going to start moving away away from the snapshot writing I've been using to show how what's happened is steadily starting to sink it, so people will begin thinking in complete thoughts and stuff. The next chapter should be up very shortly (Shelby) to make up for my long abscence.

When he called this morning, Kurt tried to say it all in short words. But Brittany's not stupid. She knows what suicide is. She knows what Rachel has done to herself.

It's here right in front of her.

"Santana…"

But Santana is backing up, now, her back hitting the door. Brittany sees the smile slip off Rachel's face and quickly steps forward to take her hand, the hand that's pushing against those big black straps holding her arms down.

It takes a moment for Brittany to figure them out, those straps, but then it clicks and she doesn't understand why Santana moved away. Brittany needs to get closer, needs to hold on to Rachel and never let go.

If she holds tight enough, Rachel can't slip away.

"Hi, Rachel."

"Brittany. You look tired. You've been here a long time." It's not a question.

"Well, yeah, R. You were in the hospital. Had to make sure you were okay." A look skitters across Rachel's face.

"I was going to be." The words are a hiss and Brittany could recognize that shouldn't-have-said-that look anywhere.

Brittany has to stop for a moment. Just, one second, please. Because she's holding on to Rachel's hand, and Rachel's alive, and talking - wanted to see her, and that's amazing. But. But.

Brittany can feel her bottom lip quiver. She's not going to cry, she won't freaking cry. But her eyes are squinting around her tears and her lips are wobbling and her breaths are too shallow and Rachel's face looks like its falling apart from the inside when she looks away.

She sniffs loudly. Santana takes her cue and finally approaches and attaches a hand to Rachel's ankle (also strapped down-she's gonna be sick). The need to feel Rachel's warm skin beneath her fingertips is the one thing that Brittany's understood since Kurt's call this morning.

"You look like shit," Santana says idly. Rachel's eyes slide down to San's lowered gaze and then away. It's a slow look, a look that Brittany wants to call cold because cold is something, at least, but there is nothing.

"I didn't sleep as long as I wanted to."

Brittany gapes at her. "Rachel-"

"Fuck. You." Santana whispers harshly. "You don't get to say shit like that, Rachel. Not to us. Not when you were gonna just leave us here with nothing but a stupid little note that you don't even say sorry in."

Rachel goes from crumpled to hard in like, two seconds. "I wasn't sorry. I still am completely not sorry."

Santana's hand is wrapped around Rachel's leg, squeezing, but Rachel shows no signs of pain. San blinks hard and Brittany wants to reach out because Santana's tough and she can take anything, but she can't take this.

"And why the fuck not?" And the shakes in her voice is clear now. "Why didn't you think about us, huh? We're your friends, okay, Rachel? We're your friends, and friends are a fucking family, okay, they don't leave people behind. I'm supposed to take care of you, and I can't fucking do that if you try to go away!"

The room goes quiet except for the beep, beep, beep of Rachel still-beating-thank-God heart. Brittany doesn't want to look at Rachel cause she's afraid there's gonna be nothing there and she can't look at Santana because San would hate it if Brittany saw her cry. She stares at the clock on the wall. She stares.

Turn back. Turn back. Turn back.

It doesn't work. It'll never work. Nothing will ever make this not happen. Brittany can wish upon a clock all she wants, but the tubes and the straps and the dead things in Rachel's eyes - that's her reality now.

The silence is so heavy. The silence is so loud in her head that she wants to see just how quiet her screams would be in comparison.

But she won't. She won't scream or cry anymore - Brittany refuses to be too weak to handle this. Because San is right - Rachel is family, and family doesn't abandon family. She looks down at her, grips her hand that much tighter. "You're gonna stay with us. Okay, Rache? No more leaving, you promise?"

Rachel looks down at their joined hands. She was always such an open book before, but now everything is closed off. It's like a part of her is dead. And maybe it is. Maybe Rachel's been more successful than she thought.

"If you stay with us, we'll stay with you." It's the most she can do now. She didn't protect Rachel the first time. But that Rachel is dead now. The pills won. And it makes Brittany feel like her heart is on fire, it makes her want to cry, but she can't. She's got to be strong for this Rachel.

She'll get it right this time.

Brittany. Don't be sad, okay? I'm much better now. I wasn't in any pain, I was okay, I swear.

I hope the angels look like you - you in the silly video I made, remember? That would be - that would be wonderful. I hope they dance like you as well. If I could, I'd take you with me, but you're not like me, Brittany. I don't think you'd ever want to go.

Don't be sad. Please. I can't bear the thought. You be good, okay? Be safe and whole and happy. I'll miss you so much. Take care of Santana.

I wish you were here. I wish you were here.

Once, there was a girl that Brittany loved. And then one day, there wasn't.

"I got so tired." Rachel is still looking at their joined hands when she says this. Santana leans forward to stack hers on top of Brittany and Rachel's face twists into the saddest expression Brittany's ever seen. "I was so tired. Everything was so hard. Too hard."

"But we're here," Brittany insists. "When things are too hard, we're here."

Rachel nods a little. Santana sniffs and laughs. "San and B, blocking your escape routes since 2010." And then, "I'm sorry, Rachel."

Rachel finally looks up. Her eyes are still dead, and she still doesn't smile, but Brittany makes it okay for now when Rachel opens her mouth.

"If you stay, I'll stay."

Brittany barely makes it three feet out of the door when her fingers start blindly scratching at the wall because she cannot hold herself up under the weight of her tears. She promised herself, she promised she wouldn't cry, but her friend is dead. Her heart beats and her voice speaks and her eyes blink but her heart and her voice and her eyes are not Rachel's. Rachel's voice says she'll stay but Rachel is gone.

Brittany can't do this. She can't, but she's going to. She's going to save Rachel this time. She should've before, she should've been better. But she wasn't and her friend died and maybe letting Brittany rebuild the pieces of Rachel that stayed behind in her deadeyes body is God's way of getting Brittany's apology to her friend, wherever she went.

If I stay, she'll stay. She will. She promised. She won't leave her.

Brittany breaths in and out and blindly sticks out her pinky. Santana's immediately wraps around it and Brittany does her best to smile at her. "Okay?"

Santana nods so jerkily that her tears scatter in the air around her. "Okay."

(Maybe the dead things in Rachel's eyes are her demons, and maybe her demons are the people in those notes, but Brittany can't think about that too hard or too much. None of that can matter anymore. For once, Rachel is what's important.)

Quinn Fabray is standing in the middle of the waiting room.

She's staring down at a piece of paper. Santana speeds up and they come to a stop right in front of her. Santana cocks her head like she always does before a fight, opens her mouth, then stops. She's staring at Quinn's paper as well. Brittany looks at the large capital letters that Rachel must have retraced over and over and feels almost sick.

I HATE YOU TOO.