Shelter
Part One
Chapter Nine: For You, There Will Be No More Crying

Ships: Brittana with Sam/Brittany, Santofsky, Puck/Brittany, Quinntana friendships. Very minor Quick.
Summary:
The only thing worse than being reaped is volunteering for someone you love. Because then they have something to use against you. Brittany and Santana learn that the hard way.
Other: This is a Hunger Games AU. Every chapter will be named after a line from a Glee song with contextual or sometimes more literal relevance to the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or The Hunger Games.

Author's Note: Wow, so this is really delayed and I'm sorry for that. Long story short, life got in the way.


Brittany gripped onto Santana's hand and followed blindly as Santana led her out of the room. She heard Dave, Mags and Puck call out to them, but she did nothing but bowed her head to hide the tears and let Santana guide her away from them. She had tried to hide how shaken she was from watching Santana do that demonstration, but judging by Santana's reaction, she had failed.

The way Santana stabbed that dummy scared Brittany. She imagined blood and internal organs spilling out of the body cavity. She imagined the last look on the imaginary person's face when they took their last breath. The worst part for Brittany, was not imagining herself being ripped apart, but imagining Santana doing it. The way Santana tore into the dummy was almost carnal.

"Hey," Santana whispered quietly, when she saw that Brittany was lost in her thoughts. "You okay?"

"Y- No, I just… I don't want to k-" Brittany stopped. She couldn't even finish the sentence without having the urge to throw up. "I don't want to learn that."

"I know," Santana smiled sweetly and Brittany felt a comforting squeeze from the hand that Santana had entwined in hers. "I'm going to take you somewhere else, okay?"

Brittany nodded and Santana lifted up her other hand. Brittany watched as Santana's slim fingers gravitated toward her cheek and brushed the tears away. The heat radiating from Santana's fingers seemed to travel throughout Brittany's body and made her feel better instantly. The moment lasted a second before Santana took her hand away smiled again, bringing a matching one to Brittany's previously somber face.

"Come on,"

Santana led Brittany to the other side of the Training Center, to a room that Brittany hadn't even noticed. When she stepped inside she saw that it was different from the rest of the rooms. The walls were painted a warm deep red colour that contrasted from the rest of the grey and chrome theme of the Training Center. There wasn't much in a room besides a carpet, two comfortable looking couches, and a stack of books that were piled on a floating bookshelf. Brittany immediately felt comfortable.

"No one really uses this room," Santana said as she walked toward the bookshelf and began sifting through the books. "It's for anyone who gets too pumped. You know, adrenaline and all? If anyone gets crazy violent toward anyone else, you just throw them in here for a few minutes to calm them down. It's locked from the outside so we're kind of trapped in here until someone comes to look for us."

Santana turned toward Brittany with a wide, joking grin on her face, but Brittany wore a different kind of smile. She was biting the side of her lower lip and grinning. Somehow being locked in a room with Santana and two couches didn't seem like the worst idea in the world.

"Thanks," Brittany said, looking at her feet. "For making me feel better, I mean."

"We haven't even done anything left," Santana pointed out.

"I know," Brittany nodded. "But still."

Santana smiled again and Brittany felt like her heart was about to start palpitating. Santana finally picked out three books from the shelf and sat, cross-legged on the smallest couch. She looked up at Brittany and patted the space beside her, invitingly. Brittany complied without any reservations and found herself copying Santana's pose, right beside the brunette.

"I still have to teach you something," Santana thought aloud. "So I grabbed a bunch of books that'll help with survival and stuff. You know, building fires, knowing what plants are safe to eat, that kind of stuff. I figure that's a better place to build from."

"Yeah," Brittany agreed. Santana slid two of the books onto the floor at the foot of the couch and opened the first one. It smelled a bit musty and judging by the way the edges of the pages were yellow, it was pretty old. Santana flipped to a page with a diagram of a tree and Brittany shifted closer to her, her hair creating a canopy as she leaned over slightly to look at the page.

"That tree has water flowing through its trunk," Santana explained as she pointed to the picture. "So if you were to drill a hole in the trunk and find a way to get the water out, you'd have a clean source of water."

"I thought that there's water in the arena's," Brittany furrowed her eyebrows and thought back to the last time she had watched the Games.

"It's not always safe for drinking and trust me, you don't want to take a chance with that," Santana shook her head reminiscently. "Sometimes they taint the water and stuff. It makes for a more entertaining Games."

"That's horrible," Brittany mumbled under her breath. "Did that happen in yours?"

"Yeah, it wiped out about seven people," Santana nodded. Brittany was a little taken aback by the lack of emotion attached to her statement. "I keep forgetting you didn't watch."

Brittany suddenly felt guilty. She didn't want Santana to think that she didn't want to watch her because she did. It killed her every single day to not know whether or not Santana was okay, but she would rather live in darkness than see her mangled body so close yet so far from her. So she didn't watch. She had the sudden urge to find an excuse for why she didn't watch, but instead only the truth came to Brittany's head.

"I thought you were going to die," Brittany blurted and she felt her face flush red. Her heart started racing and Brittany was sure that Santana could hear her heart pounding. "I didn't want you to but I couldn't watch, just in case."

"It's fine. I wouldn't…" Santana hesitated briefly. "I wouldn't have wanted you to watch it anyways."

Brittany watched as Santana flipped the page with her dominant left hand. Her eyes travelled from the tips of Santana's fingers, across the faded, discoloured page and to her right hand which was resting on Brittany's thigh. She wasn't sure if Santana realized what she was doing but Brittany definitely didn't do anything to stop her. It felt familiar and yet so foreign, but comforting nonetheless.

Brittany wanted to place her hand on top of Santana's and was fighting every nerve in her body not to. She could feel her hand being pulled toward the other girl's. As Santana began to explain the function of a certain plant that could be found commonly in the area, a metaphorical light bulb turned on in Brittany's head. Brittany leaned back, distributing her weight to her right hand and reached her left hand over Santana to point at the plant.

"So that," Brittany rested her pointer finger over the image of the plant. "Has nutrients and stuff in it?"

"Yeah," Santana nodded, biting her lip in thought. "I mean, it tastes like dirty water but it has enough to get you through."

"Oh," Brittany said quietly and suavely, pulled her hand away from the book and rested it on her thigh, mere centimetres away from Santana's hand.

She bent over the book again, pretending to get a look at the plant in better detail and slid her hand over slightly so that a few of her fingers grazed the back of Santana's hand. Santana's popped her head up in surprise and looked at their touching fingers. Brittany knew that Santana could read the shamefully embarrassed look on her face. She caught Santana's eye and saw a mischievous glint in her pupils.

"Smooth," Santana commented with a cheeky grin on her face and Brittany felt her face redden.

She shrugged nonchalantly and gently laced their fingers together. Brittany thought that her jaw must have literally dropped. Santana had been resistant to what little physical contact that they had experienced at that point, and now she was initiating it. She thought it might've had something to do with the fact that they were literally locked in the room but she pushed the thought away and entertained herself with the idea that Santana was comfortable around her.

They stayed in the position for a while. Their fingers were loosely united and whenever Santana leaned down to take a better look at the book, Brittany would look away from the page and admire Santana's profile. She looked really beautiful; the way her forehead would crinkle whenever she was confused; the gentle sloping of her nose; the slight rouge that seemed to always be present in her cheeks. Every so often Santana would catch Brittany looking and her eyes would dart up to Brittany, who would immediately shy away and read again.

About thirty minutes into Brittany's little leering session, she realized that whatever Santana was saying was probably important for her. So she ripped her eyes away from Santana and to the book, soaking up each piece of information like an eager sponge. As she filled her mind with details about poisonous berries disguised as edible ones, she heard an uneasiness in Santana's voice begin to develop. She stopped talking about the berries abruptly and began to play with the curling corner of the page.

"About yesterday-"

The door to their safe haven burst open and Brittany jumped in surprise. Mags was standing the doorway watching as Santana scrambled, tearing her hand out of Brittany's. The book that they were looking at fell to the floor as Santana stood up and suddenly found herself standing five feet away from Brittany. Brittany looked at Santana, hurt reflected in her soft blue eyes before averting her gaze altogether and looking at the floor.

"You're done for today," Mags said in a steely voice that Brittany didn't recognize. "Noah is waiting outside for you."

Brittany stood up at the authoritative tone is Mags' voice and began to walk towards the door. The older woman had always seemed like a kind motherly figure, but the harsh tone in her voice betrayed that perception. She turned back to say something to Santana, but her mouth just opened and closed pathetically and Santana did nothing but cross her arms over her chest. Brittany could feel the tension that had entered the room when Mags opened the door, but she didn't want to leave Santana.

"I'll catch up with you later," Santana mumbled and ran her fingers through long, dark locks.

Brittany nodded forlornly and exited the room. She could sense the impending argument and couldn't help but feel guilty. She knew that Mags was upset with Santana and she knew it was her fault. She internally cursed herself for not being able to do what Puck did. She saw the look on his face when he watched Santana. He was just as disturbed as she was. The difference between them was that he was brave enough to stick it through and learn something that would undoubtedly save his life in the future at the price of ending someone else's. But she couldn't.

"Hey," Puck greeted when he saw her.

He was slouched against the wall adjacent to the doorway of the room that Mags and Santana were undoubtedly arguing. He straightened when he saw her and returned her greeting.

"How was your training?" Brittany asked politely although she wasn't sure that she really wanted to hear about it.

"Pretty cool," Puck shrugged nonchalantly. "Dave taught me some cool shit."

"That sounds… Cool," Brittany replied awkwardly. It didn't, but she didn't know what else she could've said.

"Not really actually," Puck admitted, folding his arms over his chest. "I was kind of freaked out by it."

"Why'd you do it then? Santana could've taught you survival stuff too," Brittany said immediately.

"No, she wouldn't have," Puck laughed like he knew something that she didn't.

Her mind shot back to what Sam had said what seemed like lifetime ago. Sam was wrong and Santana had told her so. She thought of the few times when Santana would venture into town and the stares she would get from people. Puck's words were like a trigger. He was wrong and so were the rest of them.

"No, everyone thinks she's a bad person but she's not," Brittany argued, her face getting hot. "If she was a bad person she wouldn't have took my place and she wouldn't have taught me all that stuff because I didn't want to learn how to kill people. Bad people don't do good things."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean she hasn't done bad things, too. Don't be so blind, Brittany."

Brittany felt her throat dry up and her heart pump faster. He didn't know her. None of them did.

Brittany turned around swiftly, ignoring his harsh words and marched away from him and toward the elevator. Don't cry. She repeated it like a mantra in her head. They were all wrong about her and Brittany felt like the only person who knew the truth.


She pressed at the up button and soon after a bell sounded, indicating that elevator had arrived at the floor. The doors slid open effortlessly and Brittany saw a boy around her age sitting in a wheelchair at the right side the elevator. She felt bewildered, not because the boy was handicapped, but because now that she thought about it, she had never seen another Tribute besides Puck yet. She stepped in the elevator and shakily smiled at the boy. He was wearing a pair of baggy shorts, a white t-shirt that read, 'District Three' and framed glasses that sat atop his nose. He was another Tribute, the first one that Brittany had encountered.

"What floor?" He asked amicably.

"Nine," She said after clearing her throat. The familiar whirring sounded and the elevator slowly ascended the shaft.

"I'm Artie," he smiled and Brittany was taken aback by the boy's friendliness. He gestured at his shirt with a hand. "I'm from District Three."

"Brittany from Four," Brittany said trying to match the boy's tone.

"Nice to meet you, Brittany from Four. Did you just come back from training?" He maintained his polite and amicable tone and Brittany thought she was going to snap.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Brittany blurted out. Artie didn't look surprised at all. He simply smiled and nodded. "I just- I mean, what's the point? We talk and then soon, one or both of us is dead right?"

"If there's one thing I learned, it's that life is short and this whole Games thing only makes it shorter," Artie said, with wisdom beyond his years. "Let's face it, I'm not going to survive one day in the arena. Not in this chair. But life is too short to lose the person I am to try. The person I am says 'hi' to people he meets in elevators and he tries to comfort people when they look like they could burst into tears at any second. I know I'm going to die, but I'm going to die as Artie, not some bot that the Capitol turned me into."

The elevator arrived at the ninth floor and the doors slid open.

"Don't forget that, Brittany from Four," Artie called as Brittany walked out of the elevator and into the hallway.

She turned away and saw the boy wave at her with a crooked smile on his face. She raised her hand and the doors slid shut. Brittany looked down at her feet and suddenly was hit with a wave of emotions. He was so optimistic and accepting and wise. He knew he was going to die and accepted his cruel fate. Brittany, on the other hand, had flirted with death too many times. She was saved from death from Santana only to throw herself into death's waiting arms for Stacey. She started jogging down the familiar hallway, passing her own room until she was at Santana's door. Without thinking of potential consequences, she raised her fist and started banging on the door.

"Hello," she heard the vaguely familiar voice behind her say.

She whipped around and saw the curly-haired business man that interrupted her first training session. He was wearing a tailor-made suit with the letters 'WS' monogrammed on the left breast. He seemed to trace her body with his eyes and Brittany shifted. The man had a certain air about him that made Brittany feel uncomfortable.

"I'm Will," he thrust his hand out in front of him and Brittany looked at it suspiciously. The man hadn't done anything for Brittany to logically be suspicious of him, so she shook the hand firmly. "You're Brittany Pierce."

Brittany nodded and he smiled toothily.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard much about you, Brittany," Will said. Their handshake was long over, but he still held onto her hand firmly. She felt shivers run through her body.

"Oh," she said, not knowing what else to say.

"How've you been doing with tr-"

"What are you doing here, Schuester?" Santana narrowed her eyes at the man, who immediately let go of Brittany's hand.

"Just catching up on some business," Will answered. Brittany saw his wandering eyes rest on Santana's torso and Santana cross her arms over her chest. She uncrossed them a few awkwardly silent seconds later and dug a key card out of her pocket. She held it out to Brittany and nodded at the door.

"Go inside," she said.

Brittany didn't want to leave her. Will was a whole new level of creepy and the way his eyes were carnally focused on Santana's chest didn't sit well with Brittany. She didn't trust him. She looked at Santana's deep brown eyes. Maybe, it was one of those times when people say one thing but mean another thing. Santana's eyes looked troubled and sad and a little bit scared, so Brittany held her position.

"Brittany," Santana spoke softly. "Please go inside."

Santana's gaze was pleading, almost begging for Brittany to obey her. Betraying her intuition, Brittany nodded and took the card key from Santana. She swiped it through the reader and opened the door. Looking once more at Santana, who seemed to be staring down the older man with a certain conviction, she shut the door behind her.


Brittany was lying in the middle of Santana's huge bed, staring at the ceiling, when she came into the room. At the sound of the door opening, she sat up immediately and watched as Santana double-locked the door before looking through the peephole.

"Why was that guy looking for you?" Brittany asked as Santana approached her. Santana sat at the very edge of the bed with her back facing Brittany and began to take her boots off.

"Just business stuff," Santana said carefully as she tossed her boots towards the door.

"So why did he need you?" Brittany asked. "I thought you said they weren't trustworthy."

"They're not," Santana reaffirmed but quickly changed the subject. "Why are you here, Brittany?"

Brittany had almost forgotten what had happened in the elevator. Santana turned into a cross-legged position and was facing Brittany.

"I met a boy in the elevator," Brittany said, not really knowing where to start. "He was another Tribute but he was in a wheelchair."

"I've heard of him," Santana acknowledged. "He's the guy from District Three, right?"

"Yeah," Brittany nodded. "I just… He told me that he was going to die and he was just so free about it. I just got thinking, you know. I don't want to die but I don't want anyone else to die. It's stupid, but… It's not fair. He was nice to me and he's already in a wheelchair. It's not fair."

"No, no, it's not stupid," Santana sighed, shuffling closer to Brittany. "Don't blame yourself for being human. Don't blame yourself for being caring about whether or not people die. You might be the only one here that does."

She was right in front of Brittany now and the pads of her fingers were stroking the soft skin of Brittany's arm, comfortingly. Brittany let her tears fall freely at Santana's words. She remembered that whenever she used to cry, her mom would scoop her up in her arms, sing softly in her ear and then take her out to the port to look out at the water. But she couldn't do that. Her mom and home and the port were miles and a lifetime away. Now she had her cold, pristine room and a building bigger than anything she'd ever seen before.

She felt warm, tiny arms wrap around her torso. She tucked her head underneath Santana's chin and into the crook of her neck. No, all she had wasn't just a room and a big building. She had Santana and that rooftop she had really found her. Soft hands ran up and down her back, sending tingles down Brittany's spine. She felt comforted but the tears were wracking through her body more intensely than before and it didn't quite make sense to her. She started to hiccup as the tears continued flowing down her cheeks.

"For you," Santana sang in a quiet and scratchy voice. "There will be no more crying,"

Brittany's tears seemed to calm down at Santana's beautiful but unused voice.

"For you the sun will be shining,"

She remembered how they snuck up to her attic one day and found the old record player amongst her grandmother's tired old possessions. She remembered playing that old vinyl record filled with cheery guitars and practiced, passionate voices and how she and Santana stood around dancing and talking for what seemed like hours. Most of all, she remembered the last song on the first side of the record.

It was slower than the rest of the songs and only comprised of a voice and a piano. She remembered how Santana's eyes would light up whenever they got to it and the way she would hum the song for days after listening to it. It was always her favourite song. Santana kept singing and although her voice cracked in certain places, it was undoubtedly the most beautiful three minutes and twenty seconds that Brittany had ever experienced in her life.

Her eyelashes began to flutter shut and her previously hysterical body had calmed down to slow tears as Santana rocked her back and forth in her arms. She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to stay awake forever and listen to Santana sing, but her body betrayed her. She let sleep take over her body, too tired to fight it and drifted off listening to Santana's shaky but strong voice.

"And the songbirds are singing like they know the score, and I love you, I love you, I love you like never before."


"And I wish you all the love in the world, but most of all, I wish it from myself,"

Brittany watched as Santana's expression changed from calm to anguished in a split second. She felt tears suddenly spring to the corners of her eyes as she listened to Santana's powerful voice strain with emotion. She was literally on the edge of her seat, gripping on to the sides so she wouldn't rush over to the shorter girl and envelop her in long pale arms. She really wanted to though, so badly, but she didn't want to interrupt Santana's singing.

"And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score, and I love you, I love you, I love you like never before."

Santana's posture relaxed as she reached the end of the song. The silent pianist hit the chords with impeccable skill and an intensity matching Santana's, but to Brittany, he wasn't there. To Brittany, she and Santana were the only two people in the entire world.

"Like never before," Santana sang out as the final chords sounded.

She smiled, trying to keep her composure, but Brittany could see the glossiness of her eyes. Brittany didn't know how to describe that experience, but she knew that she would never forget it. Santana had said, well sang, that she loved her. It wasn't in front of everyone, but the piano guy was there and that was enough progress for Brittany. She was so happy with Santana, so carelessly happy that she could hardly speak. When she did open her mouth, only one word came out that seemed to describe her feelings, not only in that moment, but for all eternity and in all other universes.

"Beautiful,"


So that's chapter nine :) I was having a real big debate with myself in my head on whether or not to put the whole Songbird thing in, so let me know what you think!

Also, I think I might need a beta... If anyone is interested PM or message me on Tumblr if you don't have and FF account. My url is troutymouth.