Just a short one today, but the next few will be longer. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 8

After the three of them had righted the room as best they could- the drums and white board had to be tossed- Brittany volunteered to take Santana home.

Will couldn't resist giving Santana a quick, one-armed hug, who responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Watch it ,Scheuester, I've made guys cry for less," Santana gave him a half-smile. "Seriously, though, thank you."

"I'm here if you ever need to talk. Take care of her tonight, Brittany."

Brittany gave him a small smile of her own. "Always."

Brittany linked her pinky with Santana's as they made their way to the parking lot. Brittany drove to Santana's, wanting the privacy of an empty house.

They held hands all the way to Santana's room, kicking of their shoes and shedding their outer clothes before crawling into bed. Brittany pulled Santana close, the darker girl's back to her chest and just held on.

"Thank you for telling me, San. No matter what, I'm here for you."

Santana closed her eyes, squeezing the other girl's arms where they wrapped around her waist, "I know Britt. Thanks for being there."

Brittany held her friend all night, Santana getting the first decent night's sleep she'd had in over a week, comforted by the feel of Brittany's arms around her. Brittany lay awake, listening to Santana's deep even breaths.

She loved her so much and she knew Santana loved her back. Lying in bed never felt this right with Artie. She loved him and he was a great boyfriend, but she knew she needed to break things off with him. It wasn't fair to either of them to stay together when she loved someone else.

She couldn't help thinking that if she'd taken Santana up on her offer to be together then none of this would have happened. Santana would never have gone anywhere with any guy because she would never have left her alone in the first place and she never would have gotten hurt. She'd tell Artie tomorrow. Santana deserved all of her right now and as soon as the other girl was ready to hear it, she was going to tell her that she was ready to be with her as more than just her best friend.


When Santana woke up almost twenty-four hours later Brittany was gone, a note on the pillow where her head had been.

'Your fridge is empty so I went to get us some dinner and some stuff for breakfast. I love you, B.'

Santana put the note back where she'd found it and took a deep breath. She'd never tell Brittany, but she was kind of glad to have some time to herself to process everything that had happened yesterday. It'd all gone down so fast, she wasn't sure what the next step was supposed to be. Cry? Lay around in sweat pants binging on tubs of ice cream? Join a support group? Again, her only examples were coming from made-for-TV movies, but she just couldn't picture herself doing any of those things. So what, go back to school and pretend nothing had happened? Because that hadn't worked so well the first time.

Talking about it had helped more than she'd ever admit, but there was no way in hell she was going to become one of those people who wore 'I'm a survivor' t-shirts and shared their stories like a badge of courage. It just wasn't her.

Someone should write a damn instruction manual for these situations because she was lost. Her anger had reduced itself to a mild hum and its absence made her chest feel empty. It was like she'd purged herself of all emotion yesterday and now she didn't know what to do without it.

She made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Shedding her remaining clothes she stepped beneath the warm water and let it work its magic. Feeling much better and much cleaner after washing her hair and her face, Santana turned off the water and grabbed two of the fluffy white towels from the cabinet. Wrapping herself in one and her hair in another, she cleared a spot through the steam on the mirror and looked herself over. The sleep had done wonders, though she was pretty sure the lack of alcohol consumption had helped too, and the face looking back at her was almost normal. Her cheekbones stood out more than usual, but her eyes were no longer dead or filled with rage. She studied her reflection. Looking at her, no one would have been able to guess what a roller coaster this last week had been and the fact both comforted her and oddly enough, upset her. She felt like something so big should have left a mark.

Brittany's face appeared in the mirror next to hers and Santana turned to face her with a soft, "Hey."

"Hey. I got us some food." Brittany searched Santana's face, trying to read her mood. "Are you hungry?"

Santana nodded, surprised to realize that she was. She smiled at her friend, "Give me a sec to get dressed and I'll be right down."

"Okay, I'll set it up in the living room. Your kitchen echoes like a cave and I keep expecting bats to fly down and steal my food."

Santana threw on a pair of her old Cheerios sweats and a t-shirt and walked downstairs to find Brittany curled up on the couch, the coffee table crowded with Chinese take-out.

She looked up as Santana entered, "I wasn't sure what you wanted so I just got a little bit of everything."

Santana ignored the empty couch cushion, choosing instead to curl up next to Brittany, and leaned her head on the taller girl's shoulder.

"It looks great, Brit. Thanks."

Santana clicked the TV on in the background, volume low, before grabbing the sweet and sour chicken. The meal was comfortable and quiet, the girls debating lightly over reruns of America's Next Top Model.

When they both finally settled back, stomachs full, Brittany reached for the remote and muted the TV. She turned so she was facing Santana, who was staring at her hands fiddling in her lap.

"How are you doing?"

Santana sighed and looked up at Brittany's beautiful face, knowing the girl wouldn't accept anything but an honest answer.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "I don't really feel anything right now. I don't know what I'm supposed to do next."

"Just live your life, I guess," Brittany said, reaching over to hold Santana's hands in hers. "If you're sad, be sad, and if you're mad, get mad, and if you get scared, be scared and then remember that I'm here for you and that you're stronger than what happened and that you don't have to let it define your life. Something horrible happened to you, Santana, and I'm so sorry that it did, but what happened isn't who you are. It's going to be hard and it's going to suck, but eventually it'll suck less and I'll be next to you the whole time."

Santana stared speechless at Brittany. "How did I get lucky enough to have such a smart friend?"

Brittany smiled. "You must have picked a lot of four-leaf clovers in a past life."

Santana curled back up against Brittany, thinking about what she'd said. She was right, of course, but that didn't mean it was going to be easy.