Author's note: For those of you who were inquiring as to the song mentioned in the last scene of Chapter 5…it is called Too Late for Heroes by Mark Sholtez. Look it up if you're interested, because it is a beautiful song. Also, if anyone has other song suggestions, please feel free to make them. You never know, your idea may weave its way into a chapter. Thanks! KB
Her Smile Heals Me (part 6)
Quinn Fabray was curled under her floral duvet in her oversized bed, reading the last few words in the epilogue of the book Mockingjay.
But there are much worse games to play…Quinn read silently. She loved reading, always had. Quinn could lose herself inside the words of a book whatever circumstances surrounded her. The young blonde had a vivid imagination, and when it was coupled with the characters' lives found on the pages of her books, Quinn was transported to much more exciting places than Lima, Ohio.
Quinn closed the book and reached to set it on the nightstand beside her, turning out the clear glass table lamp next to her bed. She repositioned one of her fluffy pillows, her slim arm curved over the top of it and her hand tucked delicately under her chin, dosing as soon as she closed her eyes.
The teen was quickly awakened by the buzzing of her cell phone as it vibrated against the wood of the nightstand. She reached out her arm, patting around the top of the table, feeling for the phone. As she picked it up and brought it closer to her face, she saw that it was 10:52 PM and that it was Brittany Pierce calling.
"Britt…?" Quinn said, her voice groggy.
"I woke you, huh?"
"It's ok, I just fell asleep…what did you need?"
Silence.
"Britt?"
Quinn could hear soft crying on the other end of the phone. She sat up and reached to turn on the lamp again.
"What's wrong, Brittany?" Quinn prodded, getting no answer other than more crying, "Where are you?"
"Sitting…outside your house," Brittany managed to reveal.
"Come inside, ok," Quinn sweetly instructed, "I'll meet you at the door."
Quinn pushed out from under her covers, sliding her feet into her soft, pink slippers and grabbing her matching robe. As she stepped quietly down the staircase, careful not to disturb her mom who was in the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway, she tightened the robe around her and tied its belt around her trim waist. The young blonde stopped a moment at the bottom of the stairs to enter a four digit code to unset the alarm then moved toward the front door to open it.
She unlatched the deadbolt and opened the heavy wooden door to find Brittany standing on the other side, visibly shivering. "Hey…come in," Quinn whispered, grabbing Brittany's forearm and gently pulling her inside.
Once the taller blonde was through the doorway and standing in the entryway, Quinn shut the door behind them. Putting an arm around Brittany's shoulders, Quinn said, "Come upstairs…it's warmer."
The shorter girl led them up the staircase and into her spacious room, closing the door behind them and immediately asking, "What's going on, Britt?"
Brittany said nothing, but moved toward Quinn, wrapping her long arms around her dear friend and breaking into a sob. Holding her tightly, Quinn let Brittany cry until there was nothing left inside her. Witnessing Brittany emotionally crumble was heartbreaking, causing Quinn to cry with her.
Emotionally spent, Brittany pulled away from Quinn after several minutes and sat down on the soft-carpeted floor, leaning back against the bed, having no more strength to stand.
"Is this about Santana?" Quinn knew there was only one person who could dim Brittany's internal light.
The taller girl nodded, rubbing at both of her burning, weary eyes, trying to put words to the events from earlier in the evening. Brittany had made sure Santana was safely home before leaving her, trying to help smooth things over with Mrs. Lopez who was livid by the time the girls returned home. Trusting that Santana was emotionally stabilized for the night, Brittany drove around thinking, listening to songs on her iPod. When she was no longer able to process her own thoughts and feelings by herself, she found herself sitting outside Quinn's house.
"She almost killed herself tonight, Quinn," the words were overwhelming to the blonde teen when she said them aloud, fresh tears escaping her blue eyes.
Quinn was stunned, "What?…how?...is she ok?"
"She's at home…she didn't go through with it," the taller girl's voice cracked as she spoke, "Q, what if I hadn't been there…?"
"I truly didn't know it was this bad, Britt."
Brittany sniffed and wiped at her tears, "I didn't either."
Quinn sat quietly, sympathetically stroking Brittany's leg, allowing the taller girl to collect herself.
"I feel like I've failed her," Brittany admitted.
"Stop, Brittany…you can't do this to yourself…and it won't help Santana."
"I told her about the therapy session tomorrow…she's going."
"She agreed?"
"She's going…if I have to throw her over my shoulder and carry her kicking and screaming," Brittany said defiantly.
"Good…I'll help tackle her," Quinn said supportively. Both blondes shared a small chuckle at the idea of having to physically overpower the fierce Latina.
"Did you tell her mom about the session?"
"No…not after what happened tonight…she and Santana had a huge fight."
"About what…?"
"I'm still not sure," Brittany revealed, "I think it might have been about me actually."
"Do her parents know you two are dating?"
"If they do, it's not because Santana told them."
"So…she hasn't mentioned…her sexuality…to them?"
"Definitely not."
"Do your parents know?"
"That Santana's gay?" Brittany asked, confused.
"About you, Britt…?"
"What about me?"
"That you're gay?"
"I'm not gay."
Quinn was perplexed, "Um, Britt…you're dating a girl."
"That doesn't make me gay, Quinn."
"I'm so confused right now," the shorter blonde confessed, sitting back against the frame of the bed and crossing her legs at the ankles.
"I guess my sexuality is more in the middle…bi-sexual fits how I feel."
"Have you said anything to your parents?"
"Not directly…but I would never deny it if they asked me," Brittany told her, "Besides, I think they sort of know already…they see Santana at our house more than she's at her own house."
"Brittany…how did you know you were…bi-sexual?" Quinn avoided eye-contact with the taller blonde.
"I don't know exactly…I think I've just always known I was attracted to girls and boys…since I was little," she reflected, "…it never seemed like a big deal…until Santana." Brittany's eyes filled with fresh tears.
Quinn put her arm around Brittany and leaned into her, "Things will seem better in the morning."
Brittany heard a car honk outside her house Wednesday morning. She rinsed the toothpaste from her green toothbrush and took a sip of water from the glass cup in her hand, swishing it around before spitting into the sink. She wiped her mouth with a nearby hand towel and tightened her pony-tail, checking herself one last time in the vanity mirror, before turning out the bathroom light.
"Santana's out front, B!" her little sister yelled up the stairs.
"I heard the horn…thanks," Brittany acknowledged as she ran down the staircase, slinging her black and pink backpack over her left shoulder and taking two steps at a time. The tall blonde patted the tiny blonde on the head as she rushed past her in the living room, "Have a good day at school, kiddo."
Brittany closed the front door behind her, moving toward the white mustang which idled in her driveway. As soon as she opened the passenger-side door and slid in, tucking her backpack on the floorboard between her long legs, she could smell the aroma of fresh coffee.
Santana smiled and handed her a white paper cup with a brown cup-sleeve hugging the bottom portion, "Extra cream and sugar…just the way you like it."
"Mmm…smells perfect!" Brittany returned the smile before taking a small sip. "Sorry I'm running late…I overslept."
"No worries…the drive-thru at the Bean was backed up."
Brittany leaned over and gave the brunette a kiss on her lips. "Hold this a sec…," she requested, handing the cup back to Santana then pulling her seatbelt and clicking it into place before taking back the cup.
"Did you do any more packing last night?" Santana made conversation as she checked over her shoulder while backing her car out of the Pierce driveway.
"No, I got home way too late," Brittany said passively without thinking.
"Really…? I thought you were going home when you left my house?" she asked, confused.
Brittany wasn't sure what to say in response. Lately, she was never sure what to say at all in front of Santana, finding herself always on edge that she would say the wrong thing or upset her unintentionally. "I…um, I…just drove around for awhile…listening to music…no big deal," she stammered.
Santana's face fell.
Brittany shifted in her seat, putting her left hand on the brunette's leg, "Hey, everything's good, ok?"
The tall blonde could sense Santana's mental wheels turning as the car fell silent. She continued to lovingly rub Santana's thigh as she drove, feeling the brunette's muscles flex under the denim of her tight jeans as she moved her right foot from the gas pedal to the brake and back again as she wound the white sports car through the neighborhood streets. Brittany longed for the day the two of them could return to the ease of being in each other's presence, the way they'd always been before Prom night.
"We should break up," Santana said flatly.
"What?" Brittany wasn't sure she heard Santana correctly over her own wandering thoughts.
"I'm breaking up with you."
"You're kidding, right?...cause that's not funny," the blonde said sarcastically, pulling her hand back and repositioning the fabric shoulder strap of her seatbelt.
"I can't give you what you need, Brittany."
"What do you think I need? Other than just to be with you…?" Brittany's head was still spinning from the night before.
"You need to be with someone who isn't me."
"Stop and think about what you're doing, Santana."
"I am…you deserve better than what I've done to you lately…all the stress and worry…I hate that I'm the cause of all that."
"Yeah, it's been rough…on both of us lately…but you're seriously willing to throw away everything we have together…just like that?" Brittany's desperation was rising.
"I'm doing this for you."
"That's insulting, Santana," Brittany shook her head in disbelief. She sat quietly for a moment, running her index finger around the plastic rim of her coffee cup several times, trying to collect her thoughts, before finally saying, "Do you really think I'm going to stop worrying about you if you break up with me?"
Santana silently pulled the mustang into an empty spot in the student lot of the high school and put it into park.
The two sat for a moment in the parked car as other students hurried past them, trying to make it inside the school before the 7:50 AM bell rang.
"What you are doing to me…to us…right this second…is more hurtful than anything else that's been going on." Brittany drew in a shaky breath, trying not to cry, knowing if she started she might never stop.
The Latina continued to look down, checking the watch on her left wrist for the time. 7:42 AM.
Brittany sat quietly, watching her in disbelief, waiting for some sort of response. Getting none, she shouting, "For FUCK'S SAKE say something, Santana…anything!"
Santana looked at Brittany with wide eyes, unfamiliar with this emerging side of the tall blonde, as her exasperated words reverberated through the interior of the mustang.
"I don't want to make you late for class," the Latina said softly.
"That's it…?"
Santana turned her head to look out the windshield.
"Well, I guess you don't need to worry about me anymore, do you?" Brittany taunted.
"Fine…be late then," Santana responded calmly, turning off her car's engine.
"Do you still plan on going to your appointment with Dr. Shane?"
Santana hesitated, pulling the key out of the ignition, "I don't know."
Brittany looked at her in silence for several seconds, her eyes tracing every inch of the Latina's face as if it might be her last chance to do so. The blonde's blue eyes clouded over despite her best effort to stay strong. "I have put my heart and soul into loving you, Santana Lopez…but…I can't save you," she finally said as she quickly opened the passenger door and stepped out, slamming it hard behind her and running inside the building.
Santana wiped a falling tear then steadied herself with a deep, calming intake of air, looking at her weary face in the rear-view mirror. I'm sorry, Britt…but I will not pull you down with me, she internally persuaded herself.
Movement in the halls of McKinley High was thick as Finn navigated a path to his locker before first period. He was running a mental check of all the things he needed to pack for New York when Puck opened his nearby locker.
"What's up, dude?" Finn asked his best friend.
"Morning…," Puck looked drowsy as usual.
Both guys turned to their right as Brittany ran up to the set of lockers to open hers, throwing her backpack to the ground at her feet and trying to steady her shaking hands in order to enter her locker combo.
"Hey, Britt…," Finn said.
The tall blonde didn't dare look over at him, knowing her tears would invite questions.
"Brittany?" Finn tried again. Getting no response, he looked at Puck and shrugged.
"I got this, dude...," he patted Finn's chest with the back of his fist as he step around him toward the upset girl, "I'll check you later."
Finn closed his locker and walked away. Puck leaned against the metal lockers, close enough to Brittany to afford some measure of privacy as she pulled open the long, narrow door.
"I know that look...," Puck said softly.
Brittany sniffed and swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice, "What look?" She pulled out her text book for first period and closed the door again, never looking at Puck though she could feel his eyes on her.
"That 'Santana Lopez screwed me over' look," he joked.
Brittany leaned forward against the closed locker, her forehead pressed against the cold metal for support. Her whole world was spiraling out of control, leaving her with very little fortitude.
"What happened?" Puck could tell this was serious.
"She just broke up with me." Any bit of composure Brittany was hanging onto vanished, her tears overpowering her.
"She's full of shit…don't let her get to you…she'll come crawling back by lunch," Puck spoke from experience, putting his big arm around her.
"Not this time…," her voice cracked, "…she's completely shutting down now."
"She loves you, Britt."
"I know…that's what makes it worse." She leaned into his broad shoulder and wrapped both arms around him, squeezing tightly.
"What can I do to help?"
"Give me a ride home after school, I guess."
"Done." He squeezed back.
Santana quickly weaved a path around the students who leisurely headed to their parked cars Wednesday afternoon. The day had been disastrous so far. The brunette barely survived history class, sitting next to Brittany, that morning. She kept checking on her out of the corner of her eye, knowing she was the cause of the tall blonde's red, puffy eyes. In Spanish class, Puck had shot silent daggers at her the whole time. She ended up eating an apple in the stairwell for lunch to avoid her friends who then confirmed their disgust with her recent actions by not talking to her during Glee rehearsal. Only Rachel Berry had even made an attempt to chat with her, but the overzealous teen rambled on so much about sight-seeing in New York that Santana tuned her out after a couple of minutes.
All she wanted to do at this point was drive home quickly so she would have time to pick open the lock on her parents' liquor cabinet and settle her nerves with a shot or two of her father's vodka before her mom got home. As Santana reached her white mustang, she pulled her backpack around her body to unzip the side pocket where she kept her keys. Damn it…she hissed, finding the pocket empty. "I know I put them in there earlier," she said aloud to herself…didn't I?
She set the black bag on the hood of her car, searching through each pocket, only finding a half-used pack of matches and two remaining cigarettes from the four she'd put in the inner pocket that morning. Where's my goddamn phone…she cursed internally. She patted the pockets of her jeans, front and back. Nothing. She looked at her watch. 4:07 PM. Fuck.
With her desperation rising, she flung her pack on her shoulder and turned to hurry back in the building, hoping to find them in her locker.
"Looking for these?" Quinn asked, stepping off the curb into the Latina's path, holding a set of car keys from her extended finger.
Santana instantly recognized the tiny red megaphone hanging among the Ford ignition key and several other metallic keys and reached to grab them from Quinn's hand just as the shorter blonde snatched them back out of the brunette's grasp.
"Not so fast…," Quinn smiled.
"Q, give me my keys…," Santana was not amused.
"Don't you need this too?" Quinn held up a red cell phone in her other hand.
"Crap, where did I leave them?"
"You didn't…I took them."
"You took my stuff…what the hell?"
"I sure did…during last period," Quinn revealed proudly, "You really should pay closer attention to your bag when we're in New York."
"If you don't give me my fucking keys right now, you won't make it to New York," Santana warned through clenched teeth.
"I thought that would be your attitude…so…that's why I asked for back up," Quinn continued to smile sweetly as she step over to a sedan idling nearby, opening the front passenger door.
Emma Pillsbury leaned forward and waved at the two teens, "Come on girls, we need to hurry to make it by 4:30."
Quinn motioned for Santana to take the front seat.
"Make it where…?" the brunette scowled.
"Your appointment with Dr. Shane…don't play dumb with me."
"No way!"
"Get in the car, Santana…now," Quinn emphasized, losing her patience.
"Fuck you, Quinn…give me my stuff…now," the fiery Latina matched the blonde's tone.
"You'll get your phone and keys as soon as your session is over…now get in the car," Quinn tucked the phone in the front pocket of her pants and reached inside the car to hand the keys to Ms. Pillsbury who unzipped her purse and dropped them in, zipping it back and tucking the purse between her and the driver's door.
"I hate you, Fabray…," Santana snarled as she brushed past the blonde to settle into the front passenger side of the car.
"I love you too, Lopez…," Quinn said victoriously, shutting the door behind the brunette and opening the back passenger door to get in.
"You are such a wuss, Puckerman!" Lauren yelled into the black pickup, slamming the truck's door behind her, just as Brittany walked up, "And don't think you're going to steal my man, blondie!"
"Whoa…he's just driving me home, Lauren," Brittany defended, her nose crinkling.
"Just don't try any funny stuff…got it?" she warned then stomped away.
Brittany stepped up into the passenger side of the truck, closing the door and buckling her seatbelt.
"Sorry about that," Puck apologized with a smirk, "She's kind of feisty, huh?"
"She's kind of a bitch." Brittany was too tired from the emotional turmoil of the day to hold back.
"Yeah, that too." Puck pulled away from the student lot.
"Why do you let her treat you that way?"
"Nah, she's all bark," he said flatly.
"Not from what I've seen…," Brittany looked over at him, "You deserve to be treated with more respect than that."
"Ha! That's one I never expected to hear," he laughed.
"You do…seriously," she insisted, "You've got a good heart, Noah…you need to give yourself more credit…and find someone who will appreciate your good qualities."
"Good qualities, huh? Don't let that get around town, Britt…I'll deny it."
"Well, I know you hate it, but there's more to you than just your ability to score booze and weed."
Puck glanced over at the melancholy blonde before looking back at the road ahead, "I appreciate that…but it doesn't matter anymore…I missed my chance."
"With…Quinn?"
"Yeah," he admitted sadly.
Brittany squeezed his upper arm and smiled. Her phone buzzed in the side pocket of her shorts. Pulling it out and lighting the screen, she read a text from Quinn: we got her here. fingers crossed.
"Would you mind a detour?" the blonde asked him.
"Sure…where to?"
"386 Lockwood," Brittany read from her contacts, "…here, I can map it."
"No, I got it…that's over by the train station."
Brittany titled her head, looking over at Puck with an expression of uncertainty as to how he knew that.
"It's a popular spot…after hours," he smiled and winked.
Emma Pillsbury knocked on the door to Dr. Shane's office then stepped back behind Santana to stand beside Quinn.
The door opened immediately. "Santana?" an older woman with graying brown hair smiled at the young Latina, "I'm Dr. Shane…please come in."
Santana turned slightly to look back at Quinn who gave her a supportive smile and pushed her forward.
"We'll wait for you out here, Santana," Emma told her, making knowing eye contact with the therapist.
The therapist softly closed the door behind them then moved across the office to sit in a brown leather chair which faced another brown leather chair. She sat back and crossed her legs at the knees, picking up a pen and a binder from a nearby side table and opening it to a blank sheet of paper.
"Make yourself comfortable, Santana," the doctor suggested, writing something at the top of the paper.
Instead of sitting, the young brunette slowly moved around the room, looking first at the framed degrees and licenses which were displayed prominently on the therapist's wall. Dr. Shane watched silently as Santana moved toward the fireplace which was on an adjacent wall from the leather chairs. The teen closely inspected the female faces in the two pictures on its mantle.
"That's my daughter with me," the doctor told her, "She's in college now."
Santana did not say anything.
"Do you have any siblings, Santana?"
"No."
"My daughter is an only child. We're very close," Dr. Shane continued to observe the young Latina, "Are you close with your parents?"
"My dad works a lot…he's a doctor."
"Then you and your mom must spend a lot of time together."
"Not really."
"Is there a reason for that?"
"I don't know…she's got a lot of committee meetings and stuff."
"Would you like to spend more time with her?"
"Is this whole session going to be about my mom…cause if so, why don't you have her come here and answer your questions and let me leave."
"Do you want to leave?"
"Sure do."
"What is making you uncomfortable?"
"Who says I am…stop analyzing everything I say."
"I understand that this situation may cause your defenses to be up, but why don't you sit down for a few minutes and talk with me…as an ally." The therapist calmly motioned toward the empty chair.
Santana slumped down in the chair, crossing her legs at the knees, rubbing her hands on the soft leather arms, "This is nice."
"Thank you…I like for my patients to be comfortable during our conversations."
"Am I your…patient?"
"If you want to be…," Dr. Shane smiled at the teen.
"Where's your couch?" she asked, looking around the rest of the room.
"That's a myth really," the doctor kindly answered, "the reality is most therapists don't use couches."
"So what do we talk about?"
"What would you like to talk about, Santana? This is your time."
Santana sat quietly for a moment before asking, "What do you know about me?"
"I know that you are seventeen…you are a student at McKinley High School…and that…you have experienced some significant struggles in your life recently."
"Significant struggles, huh?" Santana laughed, "Yeah, well…all those things are true."
"Would you care to share some of those struggles with me?"
"Are you going to report what I say to my parents?"
"Every single word that you say to me stays in this office, Santana," Dr. Shane assured her, "…though you are a minor so I will need to speak to your parents about insurance and course of treatment."
"Course of treatment? Oh wow…so you already think I'm a nutcase…that's awesome," the brunette looked down, fidgeting in her chair.
"I don't think of any of my patients as 'nutcases', Santana…I think every single person goes through cycles in his or her life when struggles become overwhelming…some become debilitating…harmful even," the doctor leaned in to force eye contact with the troubled teen, "…but if there is a way we can physically treat those overwhelming thoughts…to assist you in coping with day to day…we want to do so…ok?"
Dr. Shane could see the young girl was internally processing so she sat quietly, making a few notes on the notepad in her lap.
"Do you think events happen randomly or for a reason?"
"Hmm…well, if you're asking my personal opinion…I think events happen because of a series of choices which lead a person to a particular moment in time when their path crosses with someone else whose choices led them to the same moment in time."
"So…is that randomness or fate?"
"It can seem like both, I suppose," the therapist surmised, "but then…our minds tend to work backwards, trying to place reason on events which have already occurred."
Santana took a deep, audible breath, slowly letting it out. "I was raped."
"I'm very sorry that happened to you, Santana," the doctor gave her a sympathetic look.
"You knew that already, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"I'm angry."
"I can understand that," Dr. Shane validated, "Rape is the ultimate violation."
"I'm angry because…I shouldn't have been there…in that place…that night...it was my own fault."
"The rape was not your fault, Santana."
"No, but…my series of choices…that put me there were…I'm angriest at myself."
"In what way?"
"My date to prom should have been…someone different."
Santana uncrossed her knees and looked up at the doctor who smiled encouragingly.
"A girl…a beautiful, wonderful girl…but I was too scared."
"What scared you?"
Santana fidgeted again, crossing her knees back. "The looks…whispers...I see it all when my friend is with his boyfriend…it makes me sick to my stomach."
"The way people look at your friend?"
"I don't want to stand out like that…I just want to be…normal."
"And you think being gay makes you…not normal?" Dr. Shane asked for clarification.
"I hate the fact that I'm gay."
"Why, Santana?"
"It's costing me…everything."
"Such as…?"
"My popularity…my future…my family…."
"Your future? How so?"
"Everything I've envisioned for my life…marriage, kids…I don't know, just everything."
"Well, the future is being redefined everyday for same-sex couples…marriage and kids are a viable option."
"Yeah, I know…I see things on the news…but those are in other places…not Ohio."
"True…but you could always leave Ohio…when you're old enough…or be patient and wait for change to find its way here."
"And do what until then…? Hide?" the young brunette challenged, "Hiding got me raped…and sitting in this chair in front of you."
"Could you try not hiding?"
"I've tried to push myself…I told some of my friends…my closest friends."
"That's a huge step…congratulations," Dr. Shane encouraged, "What reactions did you get?"
"Supportive."
"Wonderful…what do you see as your next step? Your parents?"
"I tried that actually…with my mom."
"You told your mom you're gay?"
"Not in so many words…but she's been asking lately…about my…girlfriend."
"What types of questions has she asked you?"
"Just about how much time we spend together…I guess she's figured out what's going on between us," Santana stated, "Last night, my mom said we had to study in the living room instead of my bedroom."
"So the message you are getting from her is that she disapproves of the time you spend with your girlfriend?"
"Alone time, yes…," she confirmed, "I'm seventeen…it's not fair."
"Are you at an…intimate…stage with your girlfriend."
Santana blushed and looked down. "Yes."
"My question was not intended to put you on the spot, Santana," the therapist assured her, "I only ask to help you determine if your mom's issue is with you being gay or with you being sexually active."
"She never seemed to notice before…," Santana trailed off.
"…Before what?" the therapist prodded.
"Brittany…my girlfriend…and I have been very close…for awhile now…," the teen tried to explain, "We've only been officially a couple for a few weeks…so I don't know why suddenly my mom is sticking her nose in my business."
"Moms are intuitive like that," the therapist smiled knowingly.
"Obviously."
"I want to be open and up front with you, Santana…so I will take this opportunity to tell you I've spoken with Brittany over the phone…," the older woman set her pen down on the notepad in her lap and folded her hands, "Brittany is the one who initially contacted me…to make this appointment for you."
Santana looked down at her lap, fumbling with the hem of her striped shirt. "I thought it was maybe Ms. Pillsbury," the young brunette looked back up with tears in her eyes.
"Why does that upset you?"
"…Cause…Brittany is the last person on this earth, I want to hurt…and I'm hurting her the most."
"Is it possible that you're hurting you the most?"
"At least I deserve it…."
"Santana…these are the type of overwhelming thoughts I was referencing earlier," Dr. Shane pulled a smaller white pad out of the pocket of her open binder and scribbled several things across it, tearing off the top sheet and handing it to the young Latina, "This is a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication. This can be a trial…we'll see if this one works…if not, we'll try another one. You can take one each night before you go to bed to help minimize any side-effects. I think you will begin to feel a real difference in a week or two with the thoughts you've been having in your head."
Santana leaned forward to accept the small sheet from the therapist, reading over the information on it. "Is this what you're going to talk to my parents about?"
"Yes…you'll need their agreement first before you fill it."
"Would you please wait until after I leave on my school trip tomorrow? I'm afraid they won't let me go if they find out about…stuff…before I'm actually on the plane to New York," she sadly requested.
"Of course…I wouldn't want to jeopardize your trip," the doctor assured her, "Perhaps, once you are back, you would find it helpful to open up communication with your parents regarding your sexuality during a family session."
"You mean…come out to my parents here…in front of you?"
"Is that something you would consider?"
"I guess…but not yet, ok?"
"Whenever you feel ready, Santana…just let me know and we'll set it up," the doctor smiled at the young brunette.
Quinn looked at the time on her phone. 5:18 PM. "She stayed in there the whole time…I guess that's a good sign," she said to Emma Pillsbury.
"Yes, it's progress," Emma smiled encouragingly, flipping a page in the magazine she was reading.
"Thank you again, Ms. Pillsbury…for all your help…," Quinn stated, looking up as a nearby door opened and Santana stepped out into the lobby.
"I'll see you next week," Dr. Shane whispered to the young brunette as she closed the door to the office behind her.
Quinn stood and approached Santana, taking in a deep breath, "How did it go?"
"She was very nice…just like you said she'd be."
"So I'm forgiven…?"
Santana hugged the former Cheerios captain. "Not so fast…," she warned, sticking out her empty palm.
Quinn pulled Santana's phone out of her pocket and handed it to her, "…as promised."
"Thank you…now you're forgiven." The Latina grinned.
"You'll need these too," Emma unzipped her purse and pulled out Santana's car keys, handing them to her.
"Thank you."
"Come on, I'll take you girls back by the school."
The three of them pushed open the door leading outside and moved towards Emma's sedan which was parked in an attached lot. Santana looked across the lot and spotted a familiar black truck at the same time two heads ducked down in the seats below. She made eye contact with Quinn, shaking her head and snickering slightly.
"Just a minute, Ms. Pillsbury…," Santana asked politely.
"Oh, sure…," the red-haired counselor agreed.
Santana made her way over to the truck's passenger side with Quinn following closely, knocking on its glass window once she reached it. The window slowly buzzed down, and the Latina beauty leaned into the truck.
"You two are not subtle."
"I told you we should have parked across the street at the train station," Puck said, sitting back up.
Brittany sat up too, flattening out her shirt, "Oh hey…what are you guys doing here?"
"That's what I walked over to ask you?" Santana half-grinned.
"Us? We were just doing…homework…for…math," Brittany said, grabbing the notebook she had been writing in a few minutes earlier.
The tall blonde looked over at Puck for assistance. "Yeah, math…we were counting…," he grasped for something believable.
"…People…," Brittany tossed out.
Puck nodded, "…People…that's right…as they exited the commuter train."
"Oh, really? Sounds complicated…," Santana rolled her eyes.
"Right, your class has a presentation next week on your findings…," Quinn amused herself by playing along, "Mrs. Gregory is making you guys dress up as numbers, isn't she?"
Brittany nodded, "I'm the number 37."
"Excellent choice," Quinn grinned, "What are you, Puck…69?"
"Ok, cut the crap…you are all the worse liars ever," Santana told the trio.
Brittany closed her notebook and looked at Santana, "I'm sorry…I just wanted to be near you…while you were in your session."
Santana pulled open the truck's door and leaned in to hug Brittany, "That's so sweet, Britt."
The taller blonde pulled the Latina into a tight embrace, "I'm so glad you went."
"Yeah, me too," she confirmed, "I liked her…I'm going to see her again, ok."
"Good," the blonde looked at her and smiled with relief.
"Do you think we could talk tonight…if I come to your house?"
"Yeah, sure," Brittany sounded hopeful.
"Ms. Pillsbury is going to take me and Quinn by the school for our cars…I'll come over after you have dinner, ok?" Santana squeezed Brittany's hand, rubbing her thumb across its knuckles before pulling away and waving back to her as she and Quinn walked to Emma's sedan.
Brittany pulled the truck door closed and rolled up the window.
"See…what did I tell you?" Puck grinned knowingly, "That girl is totally in love with you."
Brittany rinsed the last dinner plate and bent over to position it into the bottom section of the dishwasher when she heard the doorbell ring.
"I got it!" she called out, drying her hands on a nearby cup towel and turning out the kitchen light as she moved toward the front door. She opened it to find Santana standing there, a large, red overnight bag slung over one shoulder and her other arm tucked behind her.
Before the brunette stepped inside, she pulled her arm around, presenting Brittany with a tiny, pink rose. "Shhh, don't tell your dad," she whispered with a grin, "I pulled it off his rose bush."
Brittany returned the romantic gesture with an excited hug, taking the petite rose and pulling the Latina inside the house. The girls passed through the living room where Brittany's parents sat in their recliners, watching television.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce," Santana said in a friendly fashion as they walked toward the stairs.
They both said hi and nodded.
"Oh good, you decided to stay over here tonight?" Mrs. Pierce observed Santana's suitcase, "That will make it easier when I take you up to the school in the morning."
"Yes, extra early," Brittany confirmed.
"Oh, girls…don't forget to set an alarm…give yourselves plenty of time to get ready," Mrs. Pierce gently reminded them.
"Goodnight," Brittany said to her parents, leading Santana up the steps before pushing open her bedroom door then shutting and locking it once they both were inside.
"Hi…," Santana said once Brittany turned to face her.
"Thank you…for this," Brittany responded, holding up the small, wilting flower, "I never pegged you as a romantic, Santana."
The shorter girl pulled her closer, settling both of her hands around Brittany's trim waist, "There are a few things you don't know about me."
"Am I going to get to find these things out?"
"I really hope so…," Santana looked deep into the blonde's bright blue eyes, "God, I love you so much, Britt…and I am very sorry about this morning."
Brittany nodded. "I know you are…," she confirmed her forgiveness with a solid kiss on Santana's lips.
The brunette moved her hands up behind Brittany's neck, tangling her fingers through her golden locks, deepening their kiss. Once Santana broke away for a settling breath of air, she smiled sweetly and took the tiny rose from Brittany's fingers and tucked it gingerly behind the blonde's right ear. "You are so beautiful," she told Brittany, causing her fair skin to blush lightly which only highlighted her freckles, "Britt, I…really…really…want to make love to you tonight."
"Are you sure?" Brittany instantly worried about their recent outcomes.
"Yes…I just kind of need to…lead…ok?"
"No problem," the taller girl assured her with a huge grin, "Do you want the lamp on or off?"
Santana looked across the room to the nightstand, surveying the soft light of the lamp, "On…please…so I can see you when I do this…." She pulled up on the bottom of Brittany's gray tank top and lifted it over her head, tossing it gently to the floor, before she reached up and unhooked the front of Brittany's pink bra, releasing her soft breasts. Taking a step back, Santana sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the blonde toward her and wrapping both arms tightly around her, pressing her face into the soft, exposed skin of Brittany's abdomen.
Brittany stood there a moment as Santana breathed her in, caressing the Latina's long, raven hair, before sliding her hands gently around her head and down her jaw line, lifting Santana's chin to see fresh tears in her eyes.
"Life is going to smooth out for you, Santana…it's just going to take time."
Santana smiled and nodded then locked her dark brown eyes on Brittany's blue ones and slowly pulled down the taller girl's cotton shorts, taking her underwear with them, until they were pooled around her ankles on the floor.
"You're not wasting any time tonight, are you?" Brittany observed, stepping out of the excess fabric and kicking it to the side.
Santana didn't answer, but instead ran a teasing finger lightly across Brittany's hair line that covered her folds, trailing up over her mound, around her navel…twice…and over her ribs until the lightness of the Latina's touch made Brittany arch away and giggle.
"You're already wet…," Santana purred, licking her finger.
"It's been…awhile," Brittany reminded her.
"I can fix that…," the brunette assured her, going back over her recent finger trail with soft kisses, stopping to playfully nibble at Brittany's abs.
Brittany pushed Santana's long hair off her left shoulder, exposing the skin of her neck. She leaned down to kiss the crook of the brunette's neck which elicited Brittany's desired effect when Santana moaned softly and tilted her head back slightly. The blonde bent over Santana's shoulder, slowly exposing the Latina's smooth back as she kissed her way back up Santana's spine, pulling up her shirt ahead of each kiss.
The brunette lifted her arms as the fabric reached her shoulders, allowing Brittany to pull off Santana's fitted shirt and cast it aside. Brittany bent over the Latina again and ran her fingernails along Santana's back, up from her waist to where her bra was fastened. The taller girl unhooked and slid the thin straps off Santana's shoulders as she pulled her arm through one strap, letting it fall the rest of the way to the floor to pile with the other discarded clothing.
Santana stood again, meeting Brittany's lips with her own, deepening the growing passion. She then turned the blonde and pushed her down onto the bed, never breaking their kiss as their tongues danced around each other, climbing on top of her with each of her knees planted firmly on the sides of the blonde's hips. Once Santana had Brittany solidly underneath her, she began a descent of kisses from her lips down her neck, stopping at the blonde's breasts, putting both her hands over their fullness, squeezing them until Brittany was moaning.
Brittany dug her nails into Santana's shoulder blades as the brunette manipulated the soft flesh of the blonde's left breast, rubbing the pad of her thumb over its nipple then squeezing it between her fingers, while she ran her tongue around the hardening nipple of the blonde's right one. Santana teased Brittany for a moment, circling her tongue around and around then flicking before she wrapped her full lips around her nipple, sucking gently then harder which elicited a buck of the blonde's hips and a much louder moan.
"Shhh…," Santana giggled and stopped for a second to listen for movement out in the hallway.
"Easy for you to say," Brittany playfully slapped the brunette's shoulder.
Santana shook her head, tossing back over her shoulder her long dark hair that had fallen in her face, before moving her tongue's descent further down the blonde's torso while she mapped out every one of Brittany's toned muscles with a firm touch.
The electricity generated from Santana's hands moving across her body made Brittany's skin tingle, heat rising in her groin, making her wetter at her core.
Santana knew she was driving the blonde crazy with her slow assault on her senses, hearing relatively-soft sighing and gasping, but she was enjoying how Brittany's muscles tensed and relaxed with every movement she made above her. Santana liked the control she had as Brittany's hips involuntarily rocked beneath her own pelvis, internally applauding herself. Santana wanted to replace all of the previous stress she'd caused Brittany with pure pleasure and release.
The Latina beauty moved her body lower and lower until she was positioned between the blonde's thighs, taking her hands and pushing Brittany's knees up and wider. Taking a brief moment to breathe in her familiar scent, Santana ran her hands over Brittany's hips and pelvis, moving her fingers down through her mound of light-colored curls before running the back of her index finger strategically in the slit of Brittany's labia. The result was as Santana hoped when Brittany arched her hips upward into her touch and moaned deeply. The brunette then parted the blonde's folds with her fingers and dipped her tongue into Brittany's wetness, running it along the length of her vulva in one solid move.
Brittany could hardly process a complete thought at this point though she could feel Santana's hot breath on her as the brunette's tongue dipped deeper inside her, causing Brittany's eyes to roll back in her head and her breath to leave her.
"Breathe, Britt…," Santana raised her head and whispered then returned her mouth back to her oral manipulations.
The blonde forced out air from her chest only to have it catch again when Santana began to slowly suck on her clit, licking up and down then up again before sucking harder. The Latina smiled slightly when Brittany's fingers released her dark locks at the top of her head in order to clasp both hands over her own mouth, desperately trying to censor the sharp gasps and moans she was emitting.
Santana continued to suck Brittany's clit with a combination of licks, up and down, back and forth, and up and down again until the blonde cried out, "Oh god…please don't stop."
With that request, Brittany felt the Latina push two fingers inside of her, slowly moving in and out, then gradually faster, keeping pace with her tongue. Brittany's hips rocked up and down matching the rhythm Santana set for them. As the brunette added a third finger, Brittany could feel the heat and tingling sensation building inside of her toward an inevitable explosion. It started with random, intense sparks where Santana was energetically sucking then skyrocketed up her spine, shattering her brain until the sparks clustered together deep in Brittany's core, spreading throughout her legs and torso, showering over her entire body, setting every nerve on fire.
Santana's movements followed Brittany until she went over the edge then she paused her fingers and tightened her grip on the blonde's waist to hold her somewhat steady as Brittany's hips and pelvis lost control under the intensity of her orgasm. Once Brittany's body slowed to a rest, Santana eased out her fingers, making sure they gently ran back across Brittany's still-pulsating clit for maximum aftershock effect before trailing her way back up the blonde's warm body. With what little energy Brittany retained, she pulled Santana into her arms for a deep kiss.
Brittany broke the kiss first, saying, "I like tasting myself on your lips."
"Mmmhmm…," Santana responded, resting her head on Brittany's broad shoulder and draping her bent leg across the blonde's body.
The two of them laid silently in a tight embrace until both girls' pulse slowed and their breathing returned to normal. Santana could feel Brittany begin gentle, circular caresses on her arm then around the side of her waist, running a lazy hand under the waistband of her knit shorts.
Santana reached down and softly grasped Brittany's hand, pulling it back up and tucking in under her arm, smelling Brittany's scent on her fingers as her hand moved near her face. She whispered toward Brittany, "Not this time, love…ok?" She kissed the blonde on her neck and inhaled her calming aura once again, settling into her and squeezing her tightly.
"Ok…," Brittany responded with complete understanding before reaching out her long arm to switch off the side lamp on the nightstand, leaving the bedroom illuminated only by outside light, and shifting slightly to pull her disheveled comforter over both of their exposed bodies.
"Britt…?"
"Hmm…?"
"You were right…," Santana said softly.
"About what…?"
"It is so much better with feelings."
Brittany's heart fluttered in her chest and she pulled Santana even closer into her body, kissing her on the top of her head. Physically spent, both teens easily drifted off to sleep.
Note: Thank you to everyone reading this story. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, since it took a bit longer to write. I would love to hear from any of you readers, so please feel free to write a review or stop by my tumblr blog at mamatots(dot)tumblr(dot)com! The more feedback I get, the more motivated I am to write on the next chapter. ;D