A/N: Sorry this took so long, and after the cliff hanger, but now that I'm back in school, updates are going to be less frequent.. I'm going to try to post one every weekend, but it really depends how much school work I've got. On the upside, this is my longest chapter yet. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews and I hope everyone continues to enjoy this story!
I remember the singing. This perfect voice that choirs of angels couldn't compare with. Maybe it was an angel singing. I knew the song being sung, somewhere in my mind I knew that I knew it, the most beautiful song that could've only been created by some kind of mythical creatures, but I couldn't remember the name or any of the words. Sometimes the voice sounded like it was singing right into my ear, then the next it was so far away and I had to strain my ears to hear it. Everything was so dark and full of inexplicable nothingness, but this voice was pulling me somewhere, I didn't know where but I knew it was somewhere that I needed to go. I tried to follow it through the abyss, unsure if I was going the right way or the wrong way, until suddenly the voice was right there with me and I opened my eyes, blinded by an overpowering white light.
"Brittany," I heard the voice say and this glowing figure towered over me, but the light was so blinding I couldn't see her face. I tried to blink my eyes into focus, but I could still only make out soft brown curls framing her face.
"Are you an angel," I mumbled, finding it so hard to move my lips to create the proper sounds for each word.
There was a soft laugh, almost as beautiful as the voice, and then I felt warm fingers stroking my face.
"It's me," she said, and I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, forcing them to focus.
"Rachel," I asked, when her full face finally came into view and then my eyes drifted past her, to the blinding white, which in focus, was a sterilized white hospital room. It suddenly all made sense, the voice of an angel, it was Rachel singing.
"Of course," Rachel smiled, but her eyes were swollen and red like she had been crying for a long time, and through her smile she looked so sad.
"What were you singing," I mumbled again, my lips felt like they were made of concrete, so heavy and dry and when I tried to wet them with my tongue, it felt like I was rubbing sand paper on them.
Rachel's eyes turned downwards and she looked embarrassed. I couldn't understand why because the song had sounded so flawless. I couldn't remember it anymore, but I remembered the feeling it gave me.
"My Headband," she said, biting her lip trying to hide her large smile.
"I need that as my ringtone," I said, closing my eyes to the pounding in my head.
I heard her soft laugh again, "I don't know how you even heard that song before. I only sang it to Finn and he thought it was terrible."
"I was walking by the choir room," I muttered, trying to remember that day that seemed so long ago now, but my mind was so fuzzy, "Your voice made me stop. It always makes me stop."
"Do you know where you are," I don't think I've ever heard her voice so soft before and I felt the bed dip beside me as she sat down.
"Hospital," I stated, groaning as the pain began to get worse.
"Do you remember what happened," she asked and her fingers were back, stroking my cheek and distracting me from the pain.
I opened my eyes, looking up at the plain white ceiling as I searched my brain for what happened. It was there, but the details were hazy, "We were at motocross practice and Derrick bailed out on another trick. I-I got hit by something."
"A bike," Rachel said and my eyes shot towards her with shock.
I got hit by a bike and was knocked unconscious. I had heard stories about people who ended up in a coma for months or years and wake up not realizing that much time had past and suddenly I was panicked by the fact that I had no idea how long I had been out for.
"How long have I been unconscious," I asked, prepared for the worst news. Maybe months had gone by and I didn't even know it.
Rachel checked the screen on my phone that was in her hands, "About an hour."
"Oh," I sighed with relief, relaxing back into the pillow, "Am I okay?"
"You're lucky," she smiled, "The doctor said if you weren't still wearing your helmet you would've died. The tire just clipped the back of your head, but you're going to need a new helmet."
She bent down to pick something off the floor and held up my helmet, now split down the middle in two pieces.
"Cool," I nodded, a little impressed and maybe a little smug about what I had just survived.
Her smile disappeared as she looked down, sadly, at the helmet, before placing it back on the floor, "The helmet may have saved your life, but you saved mine. I should've moved, if I had just ran out of the way we wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have had to sit at your bedside spending forty-five minutes trying to decide what the best song to sing to you while in your coma and realizing that I didn't have a song for us."
"My Headband is my favourite song," I assured her. I could see she was trying to be strong and trying not to cry, but knowing Rachel her tears were inevitable.
"You saved my life, Brittany," she sniffled, her swollen eyes fixed on mine, "You didn't even hesitate before running between me and the bike."
I shrugged, "You would've done the same for me."
Her eyes turned down, "I would like to think so, but I don't know if I have that hero mentality. I can be quite selfish and-"
"Rach," I interrupted, gently, "You act selfish to preserve yourself. It's not who you are. Before we all banded together in Glee you had no one, nothing to keep you company, but your talent. You had no friends, no brothers or sisters, how can anyone blame you for wanting to protect the one thing that was always there for you, your voice. Just because you're driven to be the best, doesn't mean you don't care about other people. I don't have a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't save me if I needed it."
She stared at me long and hard, the tears spilling down her cheeks and finally she inhaled a trembling breath, "How are you so smart even when you've been hit by a flying dirt bike?"
"Because it's not about being smart," I explained, wishing I could just sit up and wrap my arms around her but my head was still throbbing hard, "It's about saying what you feel."
She sniffled, wiping at her falling tears before leaning down and giving me a kiss on my forehead.
"I think I need you to rub my palm," I sighed, the pain was intensifying and I tried to lift my left arm to give her my hand. Nothing happened. I tried to move my fingers and I couldn't even feel them. I tried to sit up to see, my right hand frantically grabbing at the sheets to try to push myself up, but Rachel laid her hands forcefully on my shoulders pushing me back down. "W-What's wrong with my arm. Is it still there?"
"Calm down," Rachel soothed, her hands stroking my shoulders up and down to try and calm me down, "It's okay, it's still there. It's just broken."
I felt like I was having a heart attack, but when her hand carefully lifted my arm to show that it was in a cast, and still very much attached to me, and her fingers gently began to rub the feeling back into mine, I managed to relax a little.
"They gave you some pain killers and said you're gonna be a little loopy," she explained, continuing her delicate massage of my fingertips, being careful not to aggravate my broken arm.
"How did I get the broken arm," I asked, confused.
"After the bike hit your head, you fell to the ground and then the bike smashed my windshield and ricocheted off, landing on your arm," Rachel explained, bringing each of my fingertips to her lips to kiss the pads.
"Talk about bad luck," I sighed, "So how long do I have to stay here?"
"The Doctor explained that once you've woken up they will just have to gave you a quick test to make sure you didn't break your brain and then you need a parent to sign you out," she said with a smile.
"Broke my brain," I questioned, smirking back at her.
"Highly technical term," she nodded seriously before breaking into a smile again. She held up my phone and added, "I had to go through your phone to get your mom's number. She's on her way."
"Oh," I said and then it dawned on me that she went through my phone and all of the things I should've deleted by now but I hadn't, "Those pictures are really old and I completely forgot they were even-"
"I just looked for your mom's number," she assured me, "I didn't look at anything else."
I tried not to show my relief, making a mental note to delete the naked pictures of Santana she had texted me a month ago when she was trying to entice me to come over. She succeeded, but the moment was now no more than a happy memory.
"So how can I repay you for saving my life," Rachel asked, bringing my fingers back to her lips but this time she bit down lightly on my index finger. I don't think she meant for it to be sexual, she did it as if it was a natural thing to do, but I have to say that the feeling and the look of my finger in between her teeth like that, well it was definitely taking my mind off the headache.
"You're going to come home with me and nurse me back to health," I said definitively, taking her hand with my good one and lacing our fingers together.
Her face grew nervous and she stared down at our hands, "I don't know."
"You're car is smashed so we're gonna have to give you a ride anyway," I persuaded, "You may as well come back with me."
"Okay," she agreed, giving me a lopsided smile and leaned in, kissing me on the lips. She backed away with a sour look on her face, "Have you been rinsing with Dr. Pepper again?"
"Give me a break," I rolled my eyes, "I got knocked unconscious by a flying bike."
"Okay," she said, narrowing her eyes at me, "I'll let it go this time. But I want you to know that oral hygiene is very important to me."
"Go get the doctor," I ordered, pointing to the door, with mock annoyance.
She tossed her head back and tried to give me a defiant look, but she caved and got up from the bed, leaning in to give me another kiss on the lips she stopped and thought better of it, kissing my forehead instead, before leaving.
The doctor's test was pretty juvenile: What day is it? Who's the president? If you were an animal what kind would you be? Okay, maybe not the last one, but it would've been an interesting question. I'd definitely pick a cat so I could climb on the top of door frames, wait for someone to walk through and then pounce on them screaming CAT ATTACK!
Suffice to say, I passed the test with flying colours and he gave me the grim, obvious, news that I would not be competing in the motocross competition on Sunday, nor would I be getting back on a bike in at least a month, if I was lucky. Rachel looked absolutely miserable as he said those words, the guilt so clear on her face I thought she might burst into tears again, but I made sure to stay strong. Inside, I was completely crushed and very angry, not at Rachel of course, but that idiot Derrick who tried to kill my girlfriend. We would definitely be having some choice words the next time I saw him around the playground.
I didn't tell Rachel about the scout, I was going to tell her about it once practice was over, but then the accident happened. I felt like if I told her now it would only make her feel worse and that was the last thing I wanted. I was trying to keep my spirit up for Rachel's sake, she looked like she was going to break down into tears at any moment and I felt like I needed to be strong for her. I saw her cry far too often.
On the inside, I wanted to cry like a little kid. It seemed like all my dreams were being dangled just out of my reach. Rachel may have been this new, wonderful person in my life that I was very thankful for, but just like her Broadway dream, I had dreams of my own too. To have them squashed like that, for now, was pretty heart breaking. Who knew if I'd ever get another chance at this?
My mother finally showed up another hour later, apologizing that she just couldn't get away from work. Sounded familiar. Her daughter lying unconscious in the hospital and she's busy saving the world from insanity. To say that I was a little bitter that the rest of the world came before me to my parents was a bit of an understatement.
"Thank you for waiting with her, Rachel," my mother said, but it could've sounded a little more sincere.
Rachel gave me a confused look and then replied, "Of course, I wouldn't just leave her here."
"That's nice," my mother said, but I'm pretty sure she wasn't listening as she began tapping the keys on her Blackberry, "Hurry up, Brittany, and get changed. I left an important meeting for this."
"Sorry to trouble you," I muttered, throwing back the hospital sheet, noticing some nasty looking bruises on my shins that I assumed were from the fall, and Rachel gasped at the sight of them.
My mother glanced up from her Blackberry and noted, "You should ice those when you get home and honestly Brittany, when was the last time you lotioned your legs? You've got armadillo legs."
I pulled the sheet back over my legs, suddenly feel self-conscious in front of Rachel, for probably the first time. I didn't know how my mother always managed to act like 'mother of the year' one day and then beat my self esteem into the ground the next. Thankfully one of the nurses came in instructing my mother needed to come with her to sign paperwork, leaving Rachel and I alone.
"That was mean," Rachel whispered, sadly, almost as if she was trying to apologize for my mother.
"She must be having a bad day," I shrugged, trying to pretend like it didn't bother me.
"You don't have armadillo legs," Rachel soothed, pulling the sheet off me, "They're perfect Brittany legs."
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and Rachel wrapped me in her arms. I rested my head against her chest and it was a nice change to be in this position. I could hear her heart beating inside her and it was such a strange thing to hear a rhythm coming from inside someone. She broke away a moment later, the hug not lasting near long enough for my liking, and picked up a stack of carefully folded clothes.
"You folded my clothes," I smirked as she placed them on the bed beside me.
"Well you weren't going to," she quipped, turning around to face the window to give me some privacy.
"I guess," I laughed, struggling to try and reach the ties at the back of my hospital gown. The third try strained my shoulder and a bolt of pain shot all through my arm, up my neck and into that sore spot in the back of my head. I stared at Rachel's back nervously, while I tried to work up the courage to ask for her help and finally I took a deep breath and said, "I-I need your help."
She turned around slowly and looked about as nervous as I felt.
"I can't reach the ties," I said, motioning behind me with a tilt of my head.
She hesitated for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek, then stepped towards me, reaching around and feeling for the ties. I felt her fingertips graze my shoulder blades and then my bare spine as she found the top tie and tugged it loose. The next one was much lower, at the small of my back, and I watched her face get closer to mine as she bent down lower to reach them. Her lips were so close to mine I could feel her breath and it was literally torture to be that close to her and not be kissing her.
I felt the last tie come loose and the shotty design of the gown, of course, made it slide right off my shoulders and onto my lap. Her face was still mere centimetres from mine and I could feel my cheeks growing warm.
"Don't look," I whispered, but I didn't make any motion to cover myself and Rachel's eyes were locked on mine. That same darkness clouded her usual brown eyes once again and all I could think of was how long I would be able to wait to have sex with her without imploding.
"Not looking," Rachel whispered back and she wasn't, her eyes were still trained on mine and the only tell she was giving was the arousal in her eyes and the huskiness in her whisper.
"You're gonna be the death of me," I swallowed, mentally kicking myself for the poor choice of words considering why we were there.
She ignored it though, blindly sliding her hands up my bare shoulders to my neck and said, "You're the one who's half naked."
I licked my lips and let out and embarrassing groan, "Please tell me you're fighting this as much as I am."
She blinked and a small, telling smile spread across her lips, "Yeah, but as glamorous as it would be to lose my virginity in a hospital room, while you have a concussion, and while your mother could potentially walk in at any moment..."
"Details," I chuckled, pulling the gown up to cover my breasts and Rachel's eyes finally left mine when I was safely covered.
I got dressed with Rachel's back turned, with a lot of difficulty I might add. As hard as I tried I couldn't get the button fastened on my leather pants and when I was fully dressed, I got Rachel to do it for me. I skipped the bra, deciding that I was not in the mood to fumble with tiny hooks, but realized that probably wasn't the best idea since I was still wearing the pink shirt Rachel had given me and it was pretty thin. It didn't matter though, I felt like I had a pretty good excuse for looking like I belonged downtown after dark.
The doctor sent me home with some heavy duty pain killers and told me to come back if I started vomiting, as if that thought wouldn't cross my mind. My mother spent the entire ride home on her cellphone and her constant chatter was only aggravating my pounding migraine. I had opted to ride in the back seat with Rachel and after ten solid minutes of her insistent voice, I groaned and buried my head into Rachel's chest. She wrapped her arms loosely around my head, covering my ear carefully with one hand to block out some of the noise. It helped for awhile, until the beat of her heart began to pick up its pace and grow louder with each thud. I'm sure any other time it would be a soothing and wonderful sound, but with my head in its current state, it was anything but.
"I'm just going to drop you guys off at the door," my mother said as she pulled into the driveway, "I need to get back to work. You'll be fine on your own, right Britt?"
I shrugged, I was always fine on my own, "I've got Rachel to keep me company."
"Excellent," she said, coming to a complete stop and continuing her phone conversation.
After Rachel got out of the SUV, she rushed around to my side and helped me out. She wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me close to her as I put my good arm around her shoulders. I leaned some of my weight on her, but was careful not to put too much on her because she was so much smaller and although I knew she was stronger than she looked, her tiny frame made me cautious. She led me into my house, up the stairs and into my room, sitting me down on my bed before going back and shutting my door like I always did.
"Do you need anything," she asked, "Water or something to eat or something?"
I shook my head, my stomach was still turning from the painkillers they had given me and the concussion, "No, I just want to change into my pajamas and go to sleep."
The September heat wave was continuing in full force and my leather pants were growing increasingly disgusting. I wasn't even looking forward to stripping down to pajamas, instead wishing I could strip down naked. Even our house, which had central air, was not used to the extreme humidity and couldn't keep up with the heat. Rachel was shining with sweat too and she was pulling at the front of her shirt to try to fan herself off, with one hand, while using the back of her other hand to wipe the sweat off her brow. Somehow, sweaty Rachel looked delicious.
"Do you want me to find you some pajamas," she asked, glancing towards my closet.
"Actually," I said slowly, drawing out the word, nervous about her reaction to my next question, "It's really hot, would you mind if I just slept in my underwear."
Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other, chewing on her lip as she sucked in a soft breath and then tried to cover up her reaction with a shrug, "I suppose it's nothing I haven't seen before."
I took that as a yes, because my head was starting to swirl again and I needed to lay down to make the world stop spinning. I tried to stand up but her insistent hands on my shoulders kept me from doing so,
"What do you need," she asked calmly, her hand brushing back the bangs that had stuck to my damp forehead.
"I'm not wearing a bra," I sighed, closing my eyes because the movement had caused the dizziness to increase, "I just need a sports bra from my drawer."
"Okay, hold on," she whispered and the loss of her hands made me open my eyes and watch her disappear into my closet. I heard some shuffling of drawers as she tried to find the right one, then finally emerged holding a white sports bra, "Is this one okay? I just grabbed the first one I saw."
"Yeah," I said, closing my eyes again and feeling myself beginning to sway. I could feel the nausea beginning to build, but I refused to let it take me over, because there was no way I was going back to the hospital tonight. She handed me the bra and turned around as I immediately pulled the shirt over my head. I fumbled with my sports bra, trying to maneuver it over my bulky cast and getting the straps caught a few times before I finally got it on properly.
I must've groaned or something, because Rachel's head tilted to the side and she asked softly, "Do you need some help?"
The pain in my arm and head had become unbearable and I didn't have the strength to try to stand up and try to undo the button on my pants. The simple everyday things I did seemed like the most impossible tasks and combined with the pain, I was extremely frustrated.
"Rachel," her name came out as a fatigued whine and Rachel quickly turned towards me, closing the distance between us.
"Lie down," she whispered, nudging my shoulders down so that I was lying flat on my back with my legs still hanging over the edge. She got to work, kneeling at my feet to first remove my shoes and socks before standing back up and leaning over me. I could feel her fingers trembling against my lower abdomen as she tried to undo the button on my pants and after her third try, I held her hands with my good one.
"Relax," I groaned, cracking an eye open to look up at her.
"I've never taken off anybody's pants before," she said nervously, but she managed to regain control of her fingers and got the button undone.
"This is different," I said, lifting my hips off the bed as she slowly peeled the leather from my legs, "It's not supposed to be sexy."
I could feel her fingertips on the tops of my thighs after my pants had been completely removed and she said, "Everything is sexy with you."
I forced a smile through my haze and then crawled to the top of my bed, resting my head on my pillow and looking over at Rachel. She shut off the lights and I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I could see her in the moonlight again. I saw her hesitate at the side of the bed and I knew she was trying to decide whether she should lay down beside me clothed, or strip down like I had.
After at least a minute had gone by and she hadn't moved I whispered, "No pressure."
I heard her soft sigh and then watched as her hands gripped the bottom of her shirt. She hesitated again and it felt like ages had gone by before I finally heard her take a deep breath and pull her shirt over her head. I couldn't see much in the dark, but I was pretty sure her bra matched the colour of the shirt she had given me to wear. Her skin was glistening in the moonlight with the sheen of sweat and through all of my pain, I still couldn't keep myself from straining my eyes to watch her undress. The silence that had fallen in the room was broken by the sound of her zipper being dragged down and her skirt followed her shirt to the floor. Her panties didn't match the bra, they were white with some kind of a pattern that I couldn't quite make out in the low lighting and I didn't want to stare too hard incase she could see me looking. She bent over to pull off each sock and then straightened back up. I had seen this much of her before when she wore the bikini, but this was different. When I had seen her then, it was before we were together, before I had admitted to anyone, nevermind myself, that I had romantic feelings towards her. Now I knew I did and having her half naked standing next to me was completely different. If I had felt even a little bit better than I did, I don't know if I would've been able to hold back.
I didn't know what she was so worried about. Her body looked amazing and I wondered what she saw when she looked in the mirror. I was a little curious if she had a warped sense of body image and was a little guilty that the Cheerios and I might be to blame for it. In freshman year, Santana picked out the nickname 'Blubber-Berry' for her, even though she was never really overweight. All she had was a bit of baby fat in her cheeks and arms, but we were always pretty good at picking out people's insecurities and beating them up with them. I think it may have taken a week of being constantly called that name for her to drastically change her diet. Suddenly she went vegan and the only thing I ever saw her eat at lunch was half of a salad, the other half she only pushed around her plate with a heart-wrenching dejected look on her face. I wouldn't be surprised if that was when her morning ritual of exercises began as well, because a month later the baby fat had vanished and Santana settled on her favourite new nickname 'Hobbit'. Now it just alternated to whatever she felt like calling her that day.
I forced myself to sit back up over the edge of the bed, fighting through the pain in my head because I couldn't be half naked and her half naked and not make something out of it. She took a step back, not expecting me to move, but my good hand reached out and caught the curve of her hip, pulling her back to me until she was straddling my legs. I looked up at her as I ran my hand along her stomach, feeling the muscles contract as her body reacted to touches she wasn't used to feeling.
"Do you even know how beautiful you are," I whispered, my eyes fixed on hers as I tried to read her reaction. Her eyes glanced away as she shyly tucked her hair behind her ears, and my hand went back to her hip, giving it a firm squeeze until her eyes returned to mine, "I mean it, Rachel."
Her hands found my cheeks, her thumbs stroking the corners of my mouth and then my lips before she leaned down and pressed her lips to mine. It was gentle at first, but as my hand snaked up her slick back she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue past my lips and tangling with mine. I felt the bed sag on one side of me and then the other as she placed a knee on either side and suddenly she was sitting on my lap, with only a thin piece of cotton separating her butt from my bare thighs. We both moaned into the kiss when we felt the contact and it was like fireworks all over again. My hand on her back travelled downwards, gripping her butt through her thin panties as I ground her down against me. She broke the kiss with another soft moan, pressing her forehead to mine as she rolled her hips, this time without my encouragement, and then moved her head down to my shoulder, pressing her lips softly against my neck.
My head was beginning to swirl again and the room began to spin, unfortunately not in a good way. I halted her movements with my hand and leaned back away from her.
"What's wrong," she asked breathlessly, her hand trailing from the side of my neck down my chest and then hooking her fingers into the front of my sports bra.
"I think I'm going to be sick," I sighed, swallowing hard to try to make the lump in my throat go away. She immediately pulled away from me and rose to her feet.
"Please don't throw up on me again," she said and through the moonlight I could see her crinkle her nose, "Being thrown up on once is enough, thank you."
I forced a chuckle as I laid back on my bed, "I still feel really bad about that."
She crawled across me to get to the other side of the bed, careful not to hurt my broken arm, or create too much movement in the bed, and then settled onto her back. She gently pulled me against her and I rested my head on her chest, wrapping a leg around hers and letting my cast rest against her stomach.
"Too heavy," I mumbled the question, referring to my cast on her stomach.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling loosely at the strands as her other hand massaged the fingers poking through my cast, "Just right."
I felt my head slowly begin to settle, the feel of Rachel beneath me and surrounding me, somehow making me feel better and after a long silence she whispered, "You're beautiful, too."
"Thanks," I said, smiling to myself. It felt really good to hear her say it. To be honest, nobody really said it to me very often.
"Thanks for saving my life," she said, her hand stilling in my hair for a moment before returning to its previous rhythm.
"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," I replied, meaning every word. "But let's not make a habit of it."
"I will certainly try not to."