Title: Beautiful Today
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Summary: 'She hates what she sees. She hates it all, because Quinn told her to.' Santana needs saving, but no one seems to notice. Brittana.

Spoilers: None.
Warnings: Deals with self harm and eating disorders throughout.

Authors Note: I've been ill, along with the entire population of the crappy little town that I live in. I have been ill, and I have had deadlines, and my past two weeks have been AWFUL. So, I apologise for the horribly slow update. I will try to get my act together! A two week Christmas break from college should help :)
I am tired, and I have work in the morning, so I needed to finish this and put it out. If there's any errors, feel free to criticize :)
Thank you for the reviews! I love them. A lot. Like, more than you know.
So yeah, thanks for reading, and I hope this chapter is decent enough after such a long wait. I will try be faster!

Contains self-harm and eating disorders. If either of these things are a trigger to you, please think before reading on.

CHAPTER 4
I don't wanna be afraid

Santana was sure, throughout almost all of the week that followed, that Brittany would realise her mistake. She was waiting for her to come into class one day, make her quick apologies, and then run to the back of the room next to the girl that she had turned her back on just seven days ago. They had even come up with names for Brittany, albeit terribly thought-out ones. Once it was revealed during registration that Brittany's full name was 'Brittany S. Piers', the taunting only got worse.

"I think it's really cool," Santana reassured her as they walked down the hallway, making their way to their next class.

Brittany smiled sadly. "I always thought it was too..." she trailed off, eyes downcast. Santana had never seen this before, Brittany sad, and the fact that she was the cause made her heart hurt. It hurt really bad. "No one used to make fun of it."

Santana watched her for a moment before coming to a stop, Brittany walked only a few more steps before realising that the smaller girl was no longer beside her. The blonde turned, confused, and wordlessly asked her why they were no longer moving. "It's because of me, you know that?"

Brittany's brows knitted together as she stood a little straighter, no longer slumped. "What?"

"If you weren't friends with me, then Quinn wouldn't be calling you names. Everyone would think that your name was cool, and you would be popular, and happy..." she spoke, almost in one desperate breath, before allowing her head to drop.

It had been a week. A good week. A week in which she hadn't found her quivering fingers reaching for the back of her throat. Even on the weekend; on the Saturday that her babysitter had baked cookies and she had eaten more than enough. On the Saturday that she found herself in front of the mirror, grimacing as she took in what she saw. Even when she entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her, getting to her knees, she heard Brittany's voice. 'You should smile all the time. I like it when you smile.' It was the simplest of things, a quick comment that was said almost thoughtlessly, but it had saved her that night. She allowed her fingers to gravitate away from her lips, standing with shaky legs and getting out of the room as quickly as she possibly could. This week had been the best week that she could remember, definitely the best week of the last two years of her life. She had her time, she would let Brittany go.

"I am happy," Brittany almost laughed, taking a few short steps until she was closer to the girl. "What made you think I was sad?"

Santana was confused. Very confused. "They call you names..." she stated simply, trailing off and waiting for the realisation to appear on Brittany's face.

It did, though it took longer than anticipated. "That doesn't matter," she smiled almost sadly, sincere in her action. "They do it to you too."

Santana nodded, though the fact that it wasn't really any kind of explanation was not lost on her. Why did Brittany seem to unaffected by the name-calling? Sure, she had seen a hurt look on Brittany's face after an insult had been directed at her, but she saw the same look on the girl's face when they aimed a name at Santana, too. She didn't seem as down as Santana, as defeated. If Brittany could be so strong, why couldn't she?

"Besides," Brittany began, interrupting her thoughts. "My mom always said...something about stones and sticks..." she trailed off, deep in thought.

Santana would have laughed, but instead she nodded sadly. That was why. Brittany could leave the hostile environment of the school and enter a house, a home, that belonged to her adoring mother and doting father. She would be asked about her day, play in the back yard with her brothers or sisters, sit around the family table for a family meal with every member of her family present. She had a family, Santana didn't. Not any more. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," she offered with a small smile.

Brittany perked up, nodding enthusiastically. "She used to say it to me every night," she giggled, still a surprisingly large grin on her face. "My mom is awesome, you should meet her."

Santana had thought, even from Brittany's brief nuggets of information about the woman, that she did indeed seem awesome. She even felt her face unwittingly light up from the simple invite. "I would like that..." she had said almost without thinking.

Brittany's smile grew even further. "Really?" she almost shouted with excitement, "she keeps saying that she wants to when I talk to her about you."

Santana's smile faltered. "You talk to her about me?"

"Of course!" Brittany grinned. "She asks every day since we moved if I have made any new friends, so I told her."

Santana nodded, the smile on her lips now feeling much less convincing. It worried her, if she was honest, what Brittany was telling her mother. She didn't want the blonde to be telling her mom how great she was, because when the actual meeting happened, her expectations would be way to high. She was more than curious as to what Brittany said about her when she wasn't there.

"I'm going to ask my mom. This is going to be so awesome!" Brittany literally jumped with excitement, pulling Santana into a quick hug, before practically skipping towards their room.

A car slowly pulled up in front of Santana as she stood on the side walk, the window opening seconds later. Brittany smiled before leaning back a little, allowing her mother to lean forwards, "Santana," she smiled. The short latina girl examined the woman for a moment. Her resemblance to Brittany was instantly apparent, her hair a light blonde and eyes sea blue. She had the same flawlessly pale skin, and her face seemed friendly enough to rival her daughters. "I can finally put a face to the name," she added in a soft, humoured tone. Santana smiled. "Do you need a ride?"

The girl shook her head. "My mom should be here soon," she replied, offering a thankful smile regardless.

The older woman nodded. "Okay, well Brittany here tells me that we need to be properly introduced, so how about you come to our house after school tomorrow and stay for dinner?"

Santana's eyes lit up, her smile growing in sincerity. "I'll ask my mom," she nodded, catching the sight of an excited Brittany from the corner of her eye. "Thanks."

"No problem" Mrs Pierce replied, nodding once as she leaned back a little. "It was lovely talking to you, Santana."

She had soon moved further into the car, allowing her daughter to sit forwards again and catch the full attention of Santana's eyes. "I can't wait!" she bellowed out of the window, her hands clapping excitedly. Santana chuckled as the window slowly closed again, the car driving off only seconds later.

Santana found herself lying on Brittany's bed the next day, after school, with the blonde lying beside her. They had been at Brittany's house for just under an hour now, and had spent the first part of their time in the back yard, playing with the Pierce's dog. They had a big dog, though Santana had already forgotten the name. It was golden, though, and she was sure that it smiled at her every time she stroked behind his ear. Buster was his name, and with his friendly grin and golden blonde hair, he fit right into the family home.

"Santana," Brittany's voice came, bringing her from her thoughts. She felt the taller girl shift beside her, catching her in the corner of her eye as she sat up. The latina nodded, silently willing her to continue. "...do you ever tell your mom about me?"

Santana simply watched the other girl for a moment before sighing lightly, pushing herself up with her hands. Brittany shifted, giving Santana room, and crossed her legs. "Brittany..." she began, getting herself into the same position opposite the girl. "I don't really...tell my mom things."

Brittany's brows furrowed. "You don't?"

Santana shook her head in reply, not wanting to explain further, and let her eyes fall.

"How come?" the blonde pressed.

Santana closed her eyes tightly for a second, taking a breath before playing lazily with the sheet that lay on the bed. "We don't talk a lot. She's usually not around when I am, so I don't get the chance to tell her things."

"Why?" Brittany asked, not moving a muscle in fear of halting Santana's speech. She watched the girl as she sat before her, legs crossed and hands laying on her lap. Her eyes were fixated on the bed below, refusing to meet Brittany's.

"I just..." she began, pausing and taking a breath. "My mom and dad work a lot, I'm usually on my own."

Brittany flinched, but managed to keep her hand from instinctively jolting across and taking Santana's. She forced her own fingers to entwine together, before allowing herself a silent moment of thought. "What about dinner...who makes your dinner?" There was silence for a moment, before a gasp escaped the blonde's mouth. "Who do you eat with?"

Santana's heart raced. This was the first time she had ever spoken to someone like this, about this, about feeling lonely. No one else knew that her mother and father didn't have time for her, that she spent her evenings in the company of whatever decided to occupy her screen that night. That was enough to elevate her heart-rate, to make her stomach lurch slightly, but at the mention of dinner she physically flinched. She caught Brittany's eye for a split second with what she was sure were her own wide eyes. She was sure that the blonde knew something, that she was hinting. It took her a second to steady herself, however, and for her thoughts to rationalise. She couldn't breach that subject. Not yet...not ever. "I just...make something quick," she offered, "or mom has time sometimes. I usually eat on my own."

Brittany took a moment before nodding in acceptance, looking away from Santana and focusing on her lap. It all seemed really sad, she thought, to have to do everything alone. They were only fourteen, and everyone needs their parents when they're fourteen. Brittany couldn't imagine not having her parents around all the time, even those times that she really wished they weren't. "That's not right," she finally voiced, "I don't think you should do that."

Santana laughed bitterly. "I don't really have a choice..."

"Talk to your mom," Brittany replied almost instantly, persistent in her quest. She didn't want it to be like that. Santana had enough trouble at school, she should be able to go home and hug her mom, tell her about it all. That's what Brittany did, after all. The older Pierce's had never had to deal with their daughter being picked on before, so when she came home and sat between them on the couch one day, burying her face into her father's neck, they were surprised. She explained why she was in such a bad mood, and they became instantly defensive. 'Tell me her name!' her mother had exclaimed. They had never known anyone to not take to Brittany before, and they were not about to allow it here. 'It's okay,' Brittany had assured them sadly, both of their arms wrapped around her protectively. 'It's okay, because Santana's not alone any more'.

"I can't," she almost whispered, her eyes still downcast. "It's her job, she needs to work. It helps her...with the trouble with dad. I think it helps her to forget."

Brittany's brows knitted together, her hands becoming still. "Trouble with your dad?"

Santana, after realising that she had let that slip, simply nodded. "I think they're only together because of me...if it wasn't for me, they would be happy."

Brittany didn't stop her hand this time when she felt it jolting from her grasp, allowing it to slowly find Santana's, resting lightly on top. The latina tensed for a moment, eventually calming and allowing Brittany to relax her hand. The weight of the hand made her already rapid heart beat weird again, she noticed, but somehow it felt a lot better. "I wish I could make it okay..." Brittany offered, sad that she couldn't do more. If she could move into the Lopez household and keep Santana company every night, she would. Without a doubt. But at fourteen, that didn't really seem like a plausible plan.

"You do," Santana offered eventually, her voice little more than a whisper as she finally lifted her gaze, her eyes finding Brittany's. She allowed her lips to curl into a small smile, Brittany doing the same in reply, before glancing at their hands. She shifted her own a little, making sure to be slow with her movements, not wanting Brittany to retreat. She managed to turn her hand so that they were palm-to-palm, smiling at the new tingling of her hand as Brittany allowed one of her fingers to gently stroke Santana's. "I wish you had always been here," she mused as she continued to watch the movements.

Brittany smiled further, nodding as she did the same. "Me too..." She moved her fingers to the end of Santana's, pausing for a second before taking them carefully into hers. Sitting opposite didn't make it the most comfortable holding of hands, but Santana's thumb rubbing softly on her ring finger helped. "Do you know what it was that I wanted to do more than anything after my first day of school here?"

Santana laughed lightly, looking up and watching Brittany's thoughtful face. She shook her head. "What?"

"I wanted to make you smile," the blonde girl admitted, meeting the brown eyes that were watching her. She smiled at the slightly bewildered look on Santana's face, allowing a breathy giggle to escape her lips. Santana's unsure expression soon became a small grin of her own.

"You work quickly," Santana quipped, squeezing Brittany's hand that lay in hers.

The blonde girl nodded with a chuckle. "I can't wait until you smile all the time," she added, before locking eyes with the girl again.

"Girls!" They heard a voice call, both of them turning to look at the door, awaiting the added information that they knew would follow. "Dinner's ready!"

Brittany smiled widely, getting to her feet, before pulling Santana up with their hands that never parted.

Santana felt herself instantly panic, her heart racing again in that painful way, the way she didn't like. "I-um," she stuttered, not allowing Brittany to pull her toward the door. "I'm not really very hungry."

Brittany came to a stop, rolling her eyes humorously. "You don't have to eat everything," she replied with a smile. "Mom always makes too much, so when you're full just say so. She won't mind."

Santana was still anxious. She was worried about this part, she had been worried about it all afternoon. The past few minutes with Brittany had made her forget, but now it was here, now she had to do it. There was no way she could hide the fact that she had eaten nothing from four other people sat around the table. There was also no way that she could force herself to eat it, not without the thing that always followed, the thing that made her feel better. She couldn't do that here. "You promise?" she asked eventually, voice vulnerable, sceptical.

Brittany grinned. "Pinky promise..." she took her hand out of Santana's, holding out her right pinky for the other girl to take. Santana examined it for a moment before allowing her left pinky to meet it, hooking with Brittany's. The taller girl pulled, urging Santana toward the door, and they walked to dinner with their pinkies entwined.

"So Santana," Mr Pierce began as their plates were being lay neatly onto the table by his wife. "How long have you lived here?"

"Forever," she replied with a sad smile. Lima, Ohio could be described as many things, but desirable was not even on the spectrum. It was a crappy place to live. Sometimes, she thought that if she and her parents lived somewhere better, somewhere nice like on the TV, maybe they would all be happier. Leaving an awkward house to enter a dull, boring town could only add to the constantly low moods of her parents, she was sure. "My mom and dad got married when they were young, it was sort of only because their families were friends, and they were the only other Latin American family in Lima. My grandma wanted her to marry a Hispanic boy, so..." she shrugged, smiling a friendly smile in Mrs Pierce's direction as she took her seat.

Mr Pierce shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to make of the story. It didn't seem romantic, and certainty not the tale that parents would tell their children. "And will I know these parents of yours?" he asked, trying to push the conversation along. Brittany seemed oblivious, already digging into the spaghetti that lay before her.

"I doubt it," Santana smiled, taking her own fork and hovering over her food. "My dad's a doctor, my mom...I'm not really sure what my mom does. Something to do with legal stuff."

He glanced at his wife, again feeling uncomfortable, before nodding with a smile. This girl seemed very different to the other friends of Brittany that he had met; not necessarily a bad different, just...different. She didn't seem as sweet as the others, as eager to please. He also noticed that she seemed older, wiser even, in the way that she spoke. It was not the way that she presented herself, but the way that she viewed things; she didn't seem to have a sugar-coated view of the world. He didn't know what to think of it, so he simple stayed quiet.

"So, Santana, we've heard so much about you," Brittany's mother chipped in, causing her daughter to pause the devouring of her meal and glare at her mother for a moment. "Brittany always gets excited when she makes new friends, but you must be rather special. I think I hear your name mentioned at least one hundred times a day."

Santana felt her cheeks burn, and as she shifted slightly she dropped her fork, it falling into the side of her plate and making a loud clanging sound. "Sorry," she muttered, picking it back up with a nervous laugh and wiping the table down. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so nervous; but sat in a room full of strangers, hearing that Brittany had told them about her, it made her palms sweaty.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, sweetie," Mrs Pierce chuckled, taking a mouth full of spaghetti from her plate. She glanced over at Santana as she smiled back, nodding, before placing her fork on the table and rubbing her hands together slightly. She wasn't touching her food, the older woman noticed, and her eyebrows quickly furrowed. "Brittany told me that you like spaghetti..."

Santana looked up, quickly nodding. "I do," she assured with a small smile. "I'm just...I'm not all that hungry tonight."

Mrs Pierce shook her head. "Nonsense. Look at you, there's hardly anything of you!" she laughed, her husband doing the same. Suddenly, three sets of scrutinising eyes fell on her, all smiling and giggling along. Santana bowed her head, eager to rid herself of the attention. If she couldn't see it, it didn't sting as much. This was Brittany, this was Brittany's family, it was okay. They were okay. "I insist that you at least try," Mrs Pierce pressed on, "I can't have you going home without having fed you. What would your mother say?"

Nothing, Santana wanted to say. She wouldn't say anything, because she wouldn't know. She didn't even know when she didn't eat dinner at home, she never asked, she never noticed. She wouldn't say anything, because she wouldn't care. After a second, she faked a smile, picking up her fork and allowing it to fall into the food. She played with it for a moment, happy when the eyes that were once watching her focused on their own meals, and spun some onto her fork. It wasn't like she hadn't eaten for the past week, because she had, but that was little things like fruit. She hadn't eaten a proper meal like this since the first time it happened, and the fact that she was in a room full of people made her feel sick. That feeling in her stomach made her dizzy.

She forced the food to her mouth, even though it felt like every inch of her body was fighting against it, and quickly threw it in. Every bite made her feel even more sick, and she didn't even know why. She quickly placed the fork on the table, bowing her head so that her face was out of view as she grimaced, swallowing the food down.

"Santana, are you okay?" Brittany asked, her voice soft and full of worry.

The latina, after a moment, shook her head. She lifted her gaze, again finding the same amount of eyes burning into her. "I'm feeling a little sick..." she excused, taking the glass of water from the table and quickly chugging some down. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," the older woman replied, concern in her tone. She stood from the table, walking to Santana's side and placing her hand to her forehead. "You're sweating," she added, her face full of sympathy. "And you're shaking. What's wrong honey?"

"I don't know," Santana lied, hating this feeling, everyone watching her. She wanted to get out of the room, to get out of there, to get to the bathroom.

"Do you feel like you need to go to the bathroom...are you going to be sick?"

YES.

"I..." she voiced shakily, almost inaudible.

"Brittany," Mrs Pierce began after a moment of silence. "Take Santana to the bathroom, make sure she's okay."

The younger blonde girl quickly got to her feet, worry evident within every inch of her face, as Santana rose almost as quickly and headed for the door. Her breathing was heavy, and her head was spinning. It was spinning so much that she almost fell off-balance on the stairs, Brittany quickly holding her around the waist and guiding her up safely.

Soon Santana was sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, Brittany instantly rushing to her side after securing the lock on the door. She grabbed the latinas hand, squeezing it tightly. "You didn't tell me you were sick," she said, examining the face before her.

"I wasn't," was all Santana could manage, glancing to the right and seeing the inviting escape. She stared at it, probably for too long, because Brittany quickly caught her line of sight.

"Do you need to..."

Santana paused for a moment, simply staring at it. She couldn't, not with Brittany here, but this time she actually felt sick. She felt like she needed to do it, like she wouldn't have to force it, use her fingers. "I-I don't...I don't know."

Brittany took this as a yes, kneeling up slightly and nudging Santana closer to the bowl, allowing the girl to simply sit beside it with her knees pulled to her chest. As they sat in silence, Santana felt her heart begin to slow, the frantic beating beginning to even out. Her stomach still screamed to be emptied, still caused that dull pain, the horrible sick feeling, but she no longer felt panicked. She wasn't shaking any more, she noticed, when she grabbed Brittany's hand that lay on her knee. She took the girl's hand into her own and held it tightly, probably much tighter than was comfortable for the other girl, and allowed her head to fall backwards and lie against the wall.

"...are you feeling okay?" Brittany asked after at least five minutes of silence. She allowed Santana to hold her hand as tightly as she needed, tracing the girl's skin with her thumb. She needed her to calm down, because even though she was trying not to show it, Brittany was terrified.

Santana managed a nod, opening her eyes only slightly, enough to meet Brittany's. She smiled, not a big smile, one that was almost unnoticeable even, but Brittany saw it. She saw that Santana was silently telling her it was okay, telling her that she would be okay.

She saw it and she knew that it was a lie.