Santana had absolutely nothing.
She had woken up that Tuesday morning as she would any other day; her parents wrapped round her little finger, the spoilt daughter of a rich, successful doctor and his young, pretty housewife. She ran the school- she had always been the 'it' girl- she had everything she wanted and more. She had been completely and totally oblivious to what a bitch the world could be.
Now she was bruised, battered, powerless and homeless, with no-one to turn to, owning nothing but the crumpled cheerleading uniform she was limping along the sidewalk in, not even aware where her legs were taking her. All she was aware of was the pain. Searing through her limbs like fire, it took everything she had not to simply collapse on the hard ground and give in to the black dots that were obscuring her vision.
All of this hurt, both physically and emotionally, was purely down to who she loved.
Brittany. What she wouldn't give for Brittany to be here right now, to hug her, to hold her in her arms and tell her that everything would be okay now, she was there. To see Brittany's smile, always so genuinely happy, unlike Santana's own fake one. To hear one of her silly one-liners, her simple black-and-white view on the world that never failed to cheer Santana up. To love Brittany and to be loved back. That was what hurt so much more than anything else right now. She wanted Brittany- no, she needed Brittany.
Would it have been so bad? A strangled sob escaped her lips. No tears came though and she abruptly stopped in the middle of the pathway, a statue, unaware of what was going on around her. Occasionally a shudder rippled through her body accompanied by an agonizing sob, barely distinguishable above her shallow, uneven breathing. She slammed herself against the cold, smooth walls of the alleyway in defeat, ignoring the strain it put on her ribs. The physical pain was nothing anymore. She continued to fantasize. Would it have been so bad? To just hide for a while longer- not to deny herself, yet not out herself either. To live her life as per normal until graduation, or college, with something to hold onto, something to make herself out of….
But it was too late now. No point dwelling on the past, the mistakes she'd already made. She would fix it, she could let go. She could pull through her wreck of a life. She couldn't afford to think otherwise.
She nodded in determination, and something cracked before one final wave of pain hit her.
"Brittany," She whispered hysterically.
Pain.
More Pain.
And finally the blackness came.
She let go.
Kurt Hummel was worried. Distracted. Head in the clouds, or so his Mom used to tell him.
It was Santana, he knew it. Ever since their 'gay to gay' as she had so fondly described it, he couldn't focus on anything. Not his French verbs, not stress baking with Carole, not even the latest issue of Vogue that lay rejected on his desk. All he saw was the hottest girl at McKinley reduced to a teary mess on his bed, begging him for help.
So many feelings had rushed through Kurt in that moment; pity, nolgastia, empathy. He knew the fear she felt- two years ago, that had been Kurt, anxious, confused and terrified at the thought of facing the world, crying on that same bed.
Kurt had had no-one there for him. No-one had held him tight and whispered to him that it would all be okay. Those were all the reasons he had instantly helped her. His heart went out to her, and he knew how much that support could potentially mean to someone. She needed him. Kurt had been so near to the edge, and he knew what 'that place' felt like. In short, like crap. Kurt didn't want anyone to feel like that, ever. He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. So he promised to make it as easy as he could for Santana. Starting with now.
Later that evening found Kurt at Blaine's house for their weekly movie night. The pair were snuggled up under a fleecy blanket on the sofa, Kurt sprawled across Blaine's lap and Blaine resting his head on Kurt's shoulder, the way they always sat. Kurt sighed contentedly as Blaine lazily traced random patterns on his back, only half paying attention to 'The Lady and the Tramp'.
"You okay?" Blaine asked, hazel eyes filled with concern. "You've seemed a little distant today, that's all," he explained. "And you're not singing along to Bella Notte," he sighed in mock sadness.
"I'm better now I'm with you, trust me," Kurt shrugged, smiling. "But I've been a little tense all afternoon. Santana came to me with a secret that hit a little close to home, and honestly I'm just worried for her,"
Blaine raised a triangular angle in confusion. "What's up, is she okay? I feel bad, I kind of forgot about what happened in glee until you mentioned it," he admitted.
"Don't tell anyone, but-" he lowered his voice, even though they both knew perfectly well that they were home alone, "She's in love with Brittany and is really confused about her feelings. I know we weren't even that close but it hurt seeing her so- so scared and upset, it was horrible Blaine," he shook his head sadly. "Uh, anyway, she's decided to come out to her parents and I'm kinda scared on her behalf. I just really hope her parents are cool with it because I honestly think she could use all the help she can get," he concluded.
Blaine nodded empathetically. "Well, let her know I'm here for her too," he said seriously. "It must really suck for her right now. When I came out I was scared shitless," he admitted, intertwining his fingers with Kurt's.
"Me too," Kurt agreed. "Sometimes I forget that not everyone can be okay with it like my Dad, like I'm taking it all for granted. But seeing Santana kind of re-opened my eyes," he sighed. "I am really grateful for him. And you, of course," he added, grinning at his boyfriend. "I honestly don't know where I'd be without you, and I'm so glad I have someone as… as…"
"Handsome? Charming? Incredible? …. Supermegafoxyawesomehot?" Blaine supplied, winking.
"As handsome, charming, incredible and supermegafoxyawesomehot as you," Kurt finished.
"That was deep," Blaine put a hand over his heart, wiping pretend tears from his eyes as his boyfriend just rolled his eyes. He leant over and whispered "I love you," into Kurt's ear.
Smiling brightly, Kurt responded with an "I love you too," and a chaste kiss on the cheek, and they both continued to watch the movie, Kurt feeling far more relaxed than before as he breathed in his boyfriend's scent. Feeling his eyelids get heavier, Kurt sighed contentedly and fell into a light nap.
'Loathing, Unadulterated loathing, For your face; Your voice ;Your clothing; Let's just say - I loathe it all, Every little trait, however small, Makes my very flesh begin to crawl-' Kurt was awoken by the sound of his phone ringing, as the voices of Galinda and Elphaba rung out through Blaine's living room. Kurt rubbed his eyes blearily. He could just make out the credits of the Lady and the Tramp playing on the TV, and saw Blaine, who had also fallen asleep, stirring too.
Reaching to get the phone, Kurt frowned at the illuminated screen; Unknown Caller. He cautiously clicked answer, hoping it wasn't another prank call…
"Hello?" he tried not to sound as if he'd just woken up.
"Kurt Hummel?" Kurt frowned upon hearing the unfamiliar voice crackling through the other end of his cell. Who...?
"Yes... speaking? I'm sorry, but may I ask who this is?" He asked, the confusion in his voice blatantly clear. He raised an eyebrow at a sleepy Blaine who looked just shrugged at him, equally as confused.
"I'm calling on behalf of the Lima Memorial Hospital," the lady said, not unkindly, her voice noticeably softer.
Lima.
Memorial.
Hospital.
Oh God. Kurt froze, his blood running cold. He felt his head spin slightly, his heart rate shooting up, blood pounding, face whitening, room spinning...
"Who?" he let out a half squeak, half choke. Faces flashed through his head in an instant. His Dad. Finn. Carole. Rachel. Mercedes.
"Santana Lopez," The voice said gently.
"Santana?" Kurt's heart stopped. "Wait, I- What? You're joking.. What- What happened? Is she okay?"
Blaine instantly looked up, the shock apparent in his face, as he took in Kurt's appearance and panicked tone. Kurt tried to ignore his boyfriend's worried face and focus on the words floating through the phone line.
"I understand that you're not the first person on Miss Lopez's emergency contact list, but there have been some... difficulties regarding contacting her family, and as the most recent on her phone contact list the hospital has found it most convenient to contact you concerning her… condition-"
"Condition?" Kurt half screamed. Why was the room spinning? "What the Hell's wrong with her? Why's she? I just don't-"
"Mr Hummel, I understand if you aren't in a fit state to drive, however we do need you here as soon as possible, so we can discuss Miss Lopez's situation in confidentiality-"
"Give me 45 minutes," he snapped, his eyes still wide with shock. I- I'll be there as soon as I can. I- Um- Thank you, I guess." He hung up, and sat still, shaking, tears pricking his eyelids.
"Blaine," he whispered brokenly, still glued to the couch, frozen from shock. Blaine nodded slowly, scared at how fragile, how upset his boyfriend looked in that moment. "It's Santana," he explained slowly, as if still processing the information himself, which he of course was. They locked eyes for a few seconds, hazel and glasz before Kurt shakily carried on.
"She's in hospital. She's hurt. She's in pain and I- I don't know what to do!" he stuttered helplessly. "I just don't know," As he spoke those words, Blaine's heart shattered.
"What we need to do," he said, trying to appear cool, but panicking inside, "Is to go to Lima Memorial, and be there for Santana."
"Okay."
Unless the internet breaks again (excuses, excuses) update soon! Brownie promise!
Remember to review, evil minions! Otherwise I shall be a sad little panda, sadface!
Jess xxx