Her Smile Heals Me (part 5)
Brittany stood on her tip-toes and stretched her long arms to reach a turquoise suitcase which sat in the back corner of the top shelf in her closet, her pink tank top rising slightly, revealing her muscular back. She managed to grip the handle to drag it down toward her just as she felt fingernails scratch lightly around both sides of her waist.
She jumped slightly at the unexpected contact as she was pulled into an embrace from behind, tanned arms wrapping tightly around her. "That tickled," she laughed.
"I know," Santana's voice practically purred with satisfaction. She tightened her hold on the tall blonde for a brief moment, breathing in the calming scent of Brittany's freshly-washed hair.
Brittany turned out of Santana's embrace to set the empty suitcase on the floor before pulling the shorter girl into a kiss. "I was hoping you'd come by today," Brittany said once contact was broken.
"Yeah, my mom forgot to lock my cage door when she left for Mass," the Latina retorted.
"She's just worried about you, Santana."
"She's been watching me like a hawk. I hate it," she grimaced, "I'm surprised she doesn't ask to look in the toilet before I flush."
Brittany laughed. "You're adorable when you pout," she said, kissing the brunette on her forehead.
"At least my parents are letting me go to New York with everyone."
"They know how important this trip is for Glee Club."
"Well, I should still probably search my bags for tracking devices."
"Don't give her any ideas!" Brittany laughed.
"So are you already packing, Britt?" Santana inquired.
"You're not?"
"You know me, I'll wait until Wednesday night then just toss everything in a duffle bag," the Latina self-jeered.
"True!" Brittany pulled Santana onto the bed as she settled back against the colorful collection of pastel pillows. "Then you'll whine to use all my stuff that you forgot to bring," she giggled.
"Well, that is one of the perks of having a girlfriend, isn't it?" the brunette smiled.
Brittany rolled enough to situate Santana on top of her, and said, "So is this…."
She began to kiss a light trail up the brunette's throat and around the side of her neck. She heard Santana groan softly as she used her tongue to lick up behind her left ear, sucking gently on her pulse point.
"Girlfriends are a good thing, huh?" she whispered into Santana's ear, applauding herself internally as the heat from her breath caused the brunette to reflexively curve further into her.
"Uhuh…," was all the Latina could verbalize.
Brittany ran her hands up the sides of Santana's shoulders, ending up with them on each side of her neck, pulling the brunette into a deep kiss. Brittany shifted to part her legs, allowing Santana to maneuver in between them. The teen closed her blue eyes and entangled her long fingers among Santana's dark locks. Deepening their kiss, Brittany slipped her tongue between the brunette's plump lips.
As their kissing grew more heated, Brittany slipped her hands underneath Santana's white t-shirt, wanting to feel her skin. As she moved her hands across the brunette's slender waist and up the taut muscles of her back, Brittany mentally noted she was not wearing a bra.
Santana surprised the blonde by pulling herself up on her knees, breaking their kiss at the last possible second by clenching Brittany's bottom lip with her teeth and stretching it until it pulled away because of the increased distance. Brittany felt tingles instantly, the sensation pulsing through her entire body until she felt increased heat in her groin.
As she sat up, Santana pulled her shirt the rest of the way over her shoulders, lifting her arms to remove it completely.
"Is that better?" the Latina beauty asked with a playful smile, discarding the shirt over the side of the bed.
"Umm…," Brittany found herself lost for words, her mind racing with the sight of Santana's exposed breasts, the brightness of the sunlit bedroom, and the loud screeches of her little sister and her friends playing in the backyard.
Santana leaned back down, reading her girlfriend's facial expression, "Don't worry, babe…I locked the door."
Brittany smiled…babe…I like that, she thought…as her lips were captured again in a long kiss. She gently ran her hands along the curve of Santana's back, her fingertips outlining each vertebra. Brittany's gentle touch sent shivers throughout Santana's body.
Without breaking contact, Brittany wrapped one of her strong arms around the brunette and leaned her slightly to the right, softly caressing the side of Santana's breast with the back of her bent fingers. The tender gesture was returned with a deeper exploration of Santana's tongue in Brittany's mouth. As their passionate kisses continued, Brittany cupped her left hand around the fullness of Santana's breast, running the pad of her thumb over its nipple, feeling an instant reaction as it hardened under her touch.
Brittany wanted to feel the Latina's chest against her own so she rolled Santana over onto her back so she could sit up to remove her tank, unintentionally pinning the brunette to the bed with all her weight as Brittany placed her hands on Santana's shoulders to push herself upright.
Santana's eyes were closed so the motion of being forced onto her back by Brittany caught the Latina off-guard, the sensation of Brittany's full weight on top her unexpectedly incited a repressed memory. Her eyes shot open as her mind flashed with images of being held down on the hard ground, Karofsky looming over her, crushing her beneath him, a stench of liquor and sweat permeating the air. Her pulse quickened even faster than it had been a few seconds before and her breath completely left her. She grabbed at her chest with both hands, not able to draw in air, her mind spinning, as she wildly pushed out from underneath Brittany to escape the sensation of being trapped, tumbling over the edge of the bed and landing hard on her back onto Brittany's bedroom floor.
"Santana!" Brittany looked over the side of the bed then quickly moved to help her sit up.
The Latina could only gasp for air as she frantically clutched her tightened chest, tears forming in her dark eyes.
"Breathe, honey…shhh, stay calm and take slow breaths," Brittany instructed, trying to control her own fright. This was not the first panic attack she'd witnessed Santana have since the rape, never knowing what was going to trigger one, but all she knew to do was to talk her through it.
Santana tried to focus on the sound of Brittany's voice, pushing away the memories of prom night, replacing them with the soothing words she could hear coming from the blonde teen, as she fought to slow her breathing.
"Just keep breathing…in and out…slowly…in and out…," Brittany looked deep into the young brunette's brown eyes, seeing her pupils slowly reset themselves as her breathing became less labored, "…you're safe, Santana…nobody can hurt you now, ok?"
Santana nodded as she drew in a slightly deeper breath, feeling herself start to calm. She leaned into Brittany, placing her head on her shoulder, as the blonde wrapped her long arms around Santana's bare back. The two girls sat quietly, Brittany gently rocking Santana, until the brunette's breathing returned to normal.
Santana coughed then lifted her head to look at her love, tears escaping from the corners of her eyes, "I'm so sorry."
"What are you sorry for…I'm the one who should apologize…I should have gone slower…," Brittany's eyes were moist from emotion too.
"No…no, please don't do that," Santana begged.
"Do what?" Brittany looked at her with confusion.
"Let him win!"
"What are you talking about?"
"If you feel guilty because I can't keep my shit together then you'll never touch me again…then he wins," she cried.
"Santana, you're not making any sense," Brittany tried to pull her close again, but the brunette pushed her away, standing up and pulling on her t-shirt.
"Tan, stop!" Brittany stood quickly, grabbing the Latina by the arm before she reached the bedroom door, "Please don't leave upset."
Santana yanked her wrist from Brittany's grip, moving closer to the door.
Brittany quickly put both arms around her from behind and held her tightly, "I hardly get time alone with you…please don't leave like this."
The dark-haired teen stood there unyielding before finally asking, "Why does it even matter?"
"Because…your shirt is on inside out," the taller girl said simply, causing Santana to chuckle despite her gloom.
The Latina looked down at her chest and noticed the crinkled tag sticking up before turning around to face Brittany. "It's backwards too," she gave a half-smile.
"Yeah, I know," the blonde grinned.
"You're a dork, you know that, right?"
"Yep," Brittany said nonchalantly.
Santana's body stance relaxed, and she put her arms around Brittany's waist, "I'm sorry, ok?"
"Don't be…," she told her, "Things will get easier, honey, I promise you."
"Maybe."
"Well…I do know this…if you think I'm never going to touch you again…you are sooo wrong."
Santana smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Quinnie, can you see who's at the door?" Mrs. Fabray yelled down the stairs to her daughter.
The blonde teen closed her calculus book, set her pencil down, and pushed back from the oversized desk in what used to be her father's office before her mom found out he was having an affair and kicked him out of their palatial house. The way of sin comes with a hefty price tag, Quinn had learned over the past two years. She had sex once…with Puck of all people…still not really sure why on that one, the devout Catholic girl thought to herself…and she ended up pregnant. No amount of Hail Mary prayers, celibacy club meetings, or apologies to her parents before her father disowned her had changed her circumstance last year. Now, this latest lesson on the repercussions of sin was courtesy of her father, the one man she thought she would never see falter. His legacy in her life was that love and affection are conditional and that a guilty conscience pays the mortgage.
The doorbell rang a second time.
"I'm coming," Quinn announced ahead of her arrival. She reached the large entryway just as the visitor knocked on the other side of the front door.
"Sorry," Brittany said as the wooden barrier gave way beneath the movement of her knuckles.
"Hey, Britt…," Quinn greeted the taller blonde, "Come in." The shorter girl stepped aside for Brittany to pass through the threshold.
"Who is it, sweetheart?" Quinn's mother called out as she stepped downed the staircase. "Oh, Brittany…hello," Mrs. Fabray said with a polite smile as she spotted the teen.
"Hi, Mrs. Fabray…oh, wait…am I supposed to still call you that?" Brittany looked awkwardly at Quinn for guidance.
The older woman blushed at the innocent question, "Why don't you just call me Judy, dear."
"Like in Bambi?" Brittany looked at Quinn for clarification.
Quinn gave the taller girl a strained smile and nodded to appease her.
"Well, I'll leave you girls to chat. There's sandwich stuff in the refrigerator if anyone's hungry."
"Thanks, Mom," Quinn answered as she watched her mother climb back up the stairs. She turned to Brittany, noticing the girl seemed overheated, "Did you walk all the way here? I didn't see a car in the driveway."
"I jogged," she responded, "Could I get some water?"
"Sure," Quinn told her, "Come in my dad's…there's bottled water in the study."
Brittany picked up on her friend's slip of tongue but decided to pretend it was unnoticed. Quinn walked through the open French-style doors into the paneled office and over to the built-in bar, opening the door to a small refrigerator and removing two chilled bottles of water. She turned and handed one to Brittany.
"Thanks," she said, loosening and removing the cap and taking a long drink, "I'm sorry I didn't call first. I just kind of ended up here."
"Sit down and relax," Quinn motioned to the couch as she took her place at one end, slipping off her sandals and repositioning a large back cushion. She watched Brittany sit at the other end. The taller blonde tossed her light gray hoodie to the floor next to her as she tucked one of her long legs to sit sideways, facing Quinn.
"So…what's bothering you, Britt?" Quinn inquired.
"Why do you ask that?" the taller blonde looked at her suspiciously.
"Well, because when you're worried, you jog…aimlessly…and three miles to my house on a Sunday evening is pretty aimless."
Brittany took a deep breath, "It's Santana."
"Aha, girlfriend trouble."
"No, nothing like that. Things are great between us," Brittany reassured.
"Oh good…because I'm really happy for you two," Quinn smiled at her dear friend.
"Thanks," she said as her fingers delicately played with the fringe around the edge of the decorative pillow in her lap.
"Sooo…why don't you seem happy if things are great?"
Brittany looked up at Quinn, "I'm scared for her, Q. She still won't talk about what happened…not even to me."
"She's seemed pretty normal at school," the shorter girl observed.
"She's faking it," Brittany said sadly.
"And you know this, how?"
"She's been having panic attacks…and they are getting worse. She had a bad one earlier today at my house."
"Did anything specific cause it?"
Brittany blushed and looked down.
"Britt…?" Quinn prodded, trying to infer between the lines, "Does this have anything to do with…intimate…moments?"
Brittany didn't respond so Quinn took hold of one of her hands and squeezed it. "Brittany, you can talk to me."
"I never know when…or where…to touch her that won't upset her." The taller blonde took in a deep breath and looked up to see genuine interest on Quinn's face so she continued. "Kissing goes okay, but…it's just confusing. It's like she wants to do more but then…that's when she freaks out," Brittany confessed, "…was that too much sharing?"
"Hmm? No, I mean I figure it's basically the same for two girls as it is for a girl with a guy, right? Though…I guess I'm sort of lacking in that world too…I mean I haven't experienced much…variety…so…what was the question?"
"This is making you uncomfortable."
"No! No, I can talk about sex," Quinn stammered, "That is what we're talking about, right?"
"Yes, Q…girls can have sex together too."
"I know that, Britt. Sex is sex, right? Sort of…? Ok, yeah…I'm not really sure how two girls have sex."
"It feels totally different with a girl actually."
"Besides the obvious…," Quinn sounded intrigued, "…in what way?"
"It's softer…but much more intense. Like…," Brittany's thoughts went to her times with Santana, "…Moose Tracks ice cream instead of plain vanilla."
"So it's…satisfying? With a girl?" Quinn blushed at her own question.
"Totally," Brittany grinned at the shorter blonde.
"I don't know what it's like to share that with someone," Quinn confessed, a look of longing in her green eyes.
Brittany's heart hurt for Quinn, causing her to grimace.
"Anyway…back to Santana…she loves you, Britt. She just needs time to process what was done to her. Rape's not just physical…it's mental and emotional too."
"Yeah, I know…but what do I do to help her move forward?"
"She really needs counseling…this is too much for you to shoulder alone." Quinn reached into the side pocket of the red, cable-knit sweater she was wearing and pulled out her phone.
"Who are you calling?" Brittany asked, watching Quinn's fingers push its tiny black buttons.
"I'm not," she said flatly, scrolling through her contacts, "I stored some information from a business card Ms. Pillsbury gave me. Do you have your phone with you?"
"Yes," Brittany told her as she leaned down to remove it from the pocket of her hoodie, first unplugging the black wire of her headphones then sliding it open to a ready position.
"I'm sending you the contact info for a female psychiatrist who Ms. Pillsbury recommended. Try to talk with Santana about making an appointment."
The phone in Brittany's hand buzzed. "Dr. Shane…," she read aloud while saving the name to her contacts.
"Santana listens to you, Brittany," Quinn put her hand on Brittany's knee, gently patting it, "It's worth a try at least."
"Ok…," Brittany sighed deeply, checking the time on her phone, "I need to go home now…my parents will start worrying."
Quinn stood, slipping her feet back into her shoes, "Come on, I'll drive you."
"Thanks, Quinn…," Brittany stood too, leaning over to hug the shorter blonde lovingly, "…for everything."
"Do you think we'll need jackets in New York?" Tina asked Rachel. Rachel sat in the front row of risers in the choir room Tuesday afternoon, her lavender notebook opened in her lap as she flipped through several sheets of printed pages.
"I've printed out everything we need to know about New York City…or as I like to call it 'The Great White Way'…," the petite brunette turned to look over her shoulder at Tina Cohen-Chang who sat in the row behind her, "…that's how people in the Broadway scene refer to it…."
"Yes, you're right, Rachel…if you live in a 1942 Judy Garland movie," Kurt dismissed.
"Kurt's sarcasm aside…," Rachel hissed, "…yes, at least a light jacket would be appropriate since it gets chilly at night there in May."
"I still don't get how it's an apple," Brittany admitted to Santana who just smiled lovingly and shrugged as the start-of-class bell sounded.
Will Shuester entered the choir room from his side office, carrying a stack of light blue paper. "Hot off the press, ladies and gents…," he announced.
"What are those, Mr. Shue?" Sam asked.
"Itineraries for Nationals!" he exclaimed.
A round of applause spread through the room as Will pulled a copy for himself then handed the stack to Artie in the first row, "Take one and pass the stack."
Brittany released Santana's hand to lean forward and grab the stack from Mercedes in front of them. She handed one to the Latina then kept another one before passing the rest to Mike Chang.
"Ok, class – pay close attention to this first part. That is NOT a typo. You need to be standing in the parking lot Thursday morning at 6:30 AM."
His announcement was met with groans and heavy sighs. "No exceptions…Santana," Mr. Shuester singled out, looking directly at the dark-haired teen, "The bus to the airport is leaving at 6:35 on the dot. You must be on it or we'll send you a postcard."
Santana grimaced, internally knowing it was a fair statement. Brittany chuckled softly.
"Second thing I want to point out – Pack lightly…please. We will only be there three days. I will not be offended if I see you wear the same shoes more than once. Shoes are heavy…and heavy luggage costs extra, ok?"
"You're starting to sound like my mom, Mr. Shue…," Puck accused.
"This trip is so important for us, guys! We need this type of exposure," Will encouraged the group, "If we can win this thing…."
"If…, Mr. Shue?" Finn asked for clarification.
"When…we win this," the handsome Glee director smiled at his club members, "…so many opportunities will open up for our group."
"Then it'll be first class all the way next year…right, Mr. Shue?" Puck envisioned.
"All the way…," Will laughed and clasped his hands in front of him.
The enthusiastic teens smiled back at him and at each other.
"Ok, Finn, Rachel…come on up here and let's run through the ballad."
The Glee members vacated the room after the bell rang, ending the class period. Brittany called ahead to Santana as the brunette reached the door, "Go ahead…I forgot something."
"I can wait…?" she answered, turning around.
"I'll just catch up to you."
Santana looked puzzled but shrugged and walked out of the choir room.
Brittany turned back around to see Quinn step down from the middle riser. "What's going on?" the shorter blonde smiled.
Once Quinn caught up to her, the taller blonde whispered, "I called Dr. Shane's office after school yesterday."
"And…?"
"She answered the phone herself," Brittany said, "She was really nice when I told her why I was calling."
"Ms. Pillsbury spoke highly of her," Quinn assured, "What did she suggest?"
"She made Santana an appointment…for tomorrow."
"That was fast."
"She felt she needs to open up about everything…as soon as possible."
Quinn frowned at the confirmation that her dear friend was in such emotional distress. "Do you think she'll go?"
"I'm not sure how to make that happen," Brittany worried, "I don't know if I should go to her mom…but that would just make things way worse."
"Perhaps you could find a way for her to just show up?"
"Show up where?" the taller blonde looked very confused.
"At the appointment…."
"You mean, like…trick her?"
Quinn shrugged.
"No, I don't think that would be fair…besides, Santana would lose her shit."
"Well, you know her better than anybody else, Britt."
"Yeah." Quinn's statement was less than comforting to Brittany with the responsibility of worrying about Santana enough for herself and for Santana becoming harder lately.
Quinn gave Brittany an encouraging hug then told her, "Keep me posted, ok?"
Santana pulled her English book out of her locker to head to her last class of the day. As she shut the long, narrow door, Rachel Berry appeared from behind it.
"Hello, Santana…," the smaller brunette said cautiously to the unpredictable Latina.
"What's up, dwarf?" Santana replied then turned her head and winked at the petite teen.
Rachel smiled…inside too. "I've wanted to text or call you…to check on how you're doing lately."
Santana paused, unsure of how to respond in this situation. She had never had a random person…ok, friend…sort of, she admitted internally…inquire into her well-being. Other than Quinn or Puck, that is. Now, the one person who had the desire was the most annoying human being Santana knew.
"That's sweet, Rachel. You could have called," Santana told her as she slid her text book into her black backpack.
"You've never given me your cell number."
"Oh…true." Santana felt a tiny tinge of guilt, "Well, you could've gotten it from Brittany or Quinn."
"They told me I had to ask you directly," Rachel said bluntly.
Santana flushed. "Am I that horrible…?"
"Well…."
Santana cut her off, "Never mind." She shifted her backpack to pull out a small spiral notebook from the front pocket, removing a pen from inside the coiled wire with her left hand and using it to scribble a large S and a seven-digit number on a section of the paper. "Here you go…don't over-use it or I will block you," she said with a smirk, ripping the page out of the notebook and handing it to the elated brunette.
"I won't…I swear," Rachel felt a little more relaxed with the fierce Latina, "So, how are you doing, Santana?"
"I'm good," the teen diverted her eyes slightly.
"I've wanted to commend you on coming out of the closet."
"Whoa, what…?" Santana looked around the hallway which was mostly cleared by this point, "Is that what I did?"
"I'm not suggesting you're getting ready to sponsor the Lima Gay Pride Parade next month, but…."
"Hold up…they have one of those?" Santana interrupted, baffled.
"It's a more intimate gathering than in larger cities, mostly consisting of my dads and their friends…and… it's not actually a parade…but it's still festive…you and Brittany are more than welcomed to join in though. We could invite Kurt and Blaine. Now that I think about it…this could be tons of fun!"
"How about tons of no." Santana didn't want any part of hanging out with Rachel Berry and a bunch of gay guys.
"Oh, ok…it was just a thought," she responded, deflated.
"A bad one," Santana nodded.
"Well…I'm still really honored that you trusted all of us in Glee Club…to make your proclamation," Rachel smiled warmly.
"Don't be…it was just…something I needed to get off my chest," the former Cheerio sounded melancholy, "Besides…I did it more for Brittany than for myself."
Rachel reached out to place an understanding hand on Santana's upper arm, squeezing it lightly, "There's a Chinese proverb I've always loved…'the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step'…Sometimes it takes strong motivation to make that first step."
Santana smiled at the shorter brunette as Brittany walked up to the two girls, "Hey! What are you guys talking about?"
"Hi, Brittany…Santana and I were just…chatting," Rachel covered, "I've got to get to class…I'll call you later." She patted Santana's shoulder then turned to walk down the hallway.
"You're already on my nerves, Berry…," the Latina tamely warned.
Rachel didn't turn back around, but she grinned at the progress she was making with her new friend.
"Are we still studying tonight at your house?" Brittany asked.
"If by studying, you mean macking out…then…of course," Santana answered, looking up at the taller girl with a playful smile, "My mom has some kind of meeting tonight."
"Good, cause I have something I want to talk to you about."
"Just tell me now so we can get right down to 'studying' later," Santana teased, emphasizing with air-quotes.
The bell rang out, starting the last class of the day.
"Damn, we're late," Santana rolled her eyes.
"…we'll talk later, ok?" Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana softly on the cheek then ran down the hallway.
Santana quickly scanned the area for any witnesses before taking in a deep, settling breath then walking in the other direction.
As Brittany drove her mom's light blue Sienna down the street, she heard her phone buzz from inside the front pocket of her jeans. Pulling it out, she saw a text from Santana: where r u? mom's home already!
"Crap," she said aloud, signaling to turn left into Santana's subdivision. She slowed the car to a stop, waiting on several vehicles to pass her in the oncoming lane. She hadn't realized how late it was getting when she stopped earlier in the evening to help her mom with the dishes and a load of laundry. Brittany recognized how hard her mom worked every day just to come home to make a hot dinner for their family then busy herself the whole evening with domestic chores. The blonde teen felt it was the least she could do before running out to "study" with her girlfriend. Guess we'll actually be studying now, Brittany frowned, knowing how careful Santana still was around her parents.
The brightness of the passing cars' headlights made the tall blonde squint as her wandering thoughts refocused inside the van, hearing a song she'd recently connected to begin playing.
I feel the weight of the world like it's bearing down…And I hardly sleep 'cause there's so much to worry about…
Brittany reached to turn up the volume on the radio, unable to shake her thoughts of Santana and her own sense of helplessness.
With everyone looking for something to pin their hopes on…Who's gonna know when to give me the signal to run…And where do I run to…And what should I run from…When everything, everything's crazy…Who's gonna save me…Who's gonna save me.
Brittany made her turn once the cars passed, winding her way down Butler Blvd until she made a right onto Santana's street. I need to download that one, she thought as the song ended and another one began.
The blonde eased her mom's van into the driveway to park behind Santana's white Mustang, careful not to nose its bumper. Good god, she'd strangle me with her bare hands, Brittany teased internally, stepping out of the driver's side and closing the door behind her. She pushed the button on the remote to set the alarm as she circled around the back of the van to make sure it was sufficiently out of the street.
Brittany could hear shouting in Spanish as she walked up the sloped yard. Before she reached the porch, the Lopez front door opened then slammed shut as Santana flew past the startled blonde without saying a word.
"Santana, wait up!" Brittany turned, walking quickly to catch up with the brunette's frantic pace. "Santana, stop…what's wrong?"
The Latina pulled up the hood on her charcoal gray sweatshirt which had McKinley High in bold red letters on it, tightening the strings until only a portion of her beautiful face could be seen as they passed under a street lamp.
"Is that your way of shutting me out?" Brittany demanded, still trying to keep stride with the angry brunette.
Santana folded her arms firmly around her slender body and kept walking.
"Do you even know where you're going?" Brittany could hear Santana's phone buzzing over and over in the front pocket of her sweatshirt.
"Are you going to answer that…?" the blonde tried, "It's probably your mom."
The two kept walking as the sidewalk of Santana's street ended. The young Latina crossed the street and rounded the corner before stepping onto a wooded path. Brittany's long legs were her only advantage as she took step for step with Santana, following the shorter girl into a darker, unfamiliar area.
Santana's phone gave a short buzz. Brittany lunged toward the brunette, reaching into her front pocket before Santana could stop her.
"What the hell are you doing?" Santana screamed, coming to an abrupt stop.
Brittany pushed the side button on the phone to light the screen, slowing to a stop and reading the text from Santana's mom: COME HOME IMMEDIATELY OR I WILL HAVE THE POLICE TRACK YOU DOWN.
"Saving your ass!" Brittany yelled back, her frustration getting the better of her.
Brittany steadied her shaking hands, typing out the reply: just walking to calm down. B's with me. back soon, promise. xo
She hit send then looked up at Santana who glared back. The phone buzzed right back with: SOON!
"Here," she said, handing the phone back to her girlfriend.
Santana snatched it angrily and stuffed it back in her front pocket, fishing around inside before pulling out a cigarette and a flat pack of matches. Without saying a word she put the cigarette between her lips and lit the match, cupping it against the night wind until smoke was successfully escaping her mouth.
"You're smoking now too?"
Santana started walking again in silence. Brittany followed.
"Talk to me, damn it!"
"You followed ME! I didn't ask you to," Santana yelled back, staying a few steps ahead as she crossed a patch of ankle-high grass that led to a footbridge over a railroad track.
Brittany stopped, shaking her head. "I followed you," the blonde shouted as she allowed the distance between them to widen, "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"
Santana stopped walking, taking a long drag off her cigarette as she turned toward the side railing of the footbridge. Brittany watched her for a few minutes, standing alone in the moonlight, looking over the edge of the waist-high railing, as a dull orange glow from the end of the cigarette came and went several times.
Once Santana crushed the butt of the cigarette on the metal of the bridge and threw it over onto the tracks below, Brittany slowly walked the distance toward her.
"I hate when you smoke."
"That's why I don't do it around you," Santana retorted, pulling the hood off her head and shaking her long raven hair.
"I hate that you do it all…it'll kill you," Brittany warned, walking up next to her.
"Who the fuck cares…?"
"I care, Santana."
"You shouldn't…," intense silence followed before Santana said flatly, "Besides…I died three weeks ago."
"What…?" Brittany was stunned.
"Part of me did, anyway," Santana responded sadly, looking downward.
Brittany reached to put her arms around the shorter girl, "Santana…."
"Please don't…," she pulled away.
"I love you."
There was a long moment that seemed as though the world stopped spinning while Brittany just stared at Santana while the brunette looked off into the night.
Brittany finally pleaded, "Please talk to me."
"What do you want me to say? 'I love you too'? You know that…or 'I promise to never smoke again, Brittany'…or how about 'I fucking hatemyself'…huh? Or try this one 'I WANT TO JUMP OFF THIS FUCKING BRIDGE RIGHT NOW AND SMASH MY HEAD OPEN'…how about that one, Britt?"
Brittany's eyes filled with hot tears.
Santana turned to look at her girlfriend, cocking her head to one side, "Is that giving you enough of a glimpse inside my head, Britt?"
"Stop," she asked weakly.
"No, you've wanted to hear my thoughts…sweet, innocent Brittany? Well here they are…I've walk to this exact spot for five nights now and stood here trying to have enough FUCKING GUTS to jump when that train passes…and do you know why I don't?"
Brittany sniffed and swallowed hard against her tears. Unable to speak, she shook her head in response.
"Because EVERY fucking night while I'm standing here in this spot, my phone rings…like clockwork, playing that goddamn Dylan song you sang me in the hospital. Then when I can't help but answer it…you remind me much you love me."
"You heard it?" Brittany asked, unable to hold back a sob.
Santana nodded, turning away from the crying blonde. Seeing how much pain she was causing Brittany made Santana hate herself that much more.
"I don't want to be inside my head anymore, Britt…the pain is too much."
Brittany pulled Santana close and held her tightly almost as if she thought it was possible to transport Santana's soul to a safer place.
The broken teen finally began to feel something other than anger and self-loathing, causing Santana to go limp in Brittany's arms as a release of emotion shook her entire body. Brittany slowly lowered both of them to the ground, leaning back against the metal railing as it began to vibrate from the movement of an approaching train.
Brittany held her love close, caressing the curve of Santana's back as she cradled her and kissing the top of her lowered head.
Once the train echoed in the distance and the night around them fell silent again, Brittany wiped at her wet eyes with the long sleeve of her knit jacket and said firmly, "You are going to an appointment with me tomorrow…after school…I'll drive."
Santana looked up at her and asked reluctantly, "What kind of appointment?"
Brittany pulled her close again, "One that will hopefully save your life."